Showing posts with label gravity. Show all posts
Showing posts with label gravity. Show all posts

Tuesday, September 8, 2026

Microstory 2752: Foul Trouble

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Zelda and Jolanda both do a lot of exhilarating activities. Framed one way, they sit on opposing sides of the spectrum. Zelda likes to lose control. It is absolutely possible to be bad at an extreme sport, but once you learn how to do it, a lot of it involves letting go, and allowing the forces of nature take over. Gravity is a big one for them. Jolanda’s thing is all about taking control. When she’s inside of the car—or when she literally is the car—she makes every decision about where it goes, and what it does. For both of them, the work is very tough and strenuous, and they’re all sports, but a certain kind of sport. What they’re doing right now is exploring one of the other kinds.
“Fellow treasure hunters, please allow me to be the first to welcome you all to...Sportsdome,” Rage says dramatically. It’s a surprisingly unpopular dome. That might be a harsh word to use. It’s not as popular as it would be if you picked the whole 83-kilometer diameter dome off of Castlebourne, flew it to Earth, and dropped it somewhere. The problem with this dome is it’s simply a collection of all sports fields of play. There’s nothing innovative about it except the fact that it’s all consolidated. You can get each one of these games anywhere, and for much cheaper than the energy credits it takes to travel to this world. Basically, if sports are your thing, you’re probably better off staying put wherever you already live. Castlebourne is for niche experiences.
“I played one of the ancient games once,” Colley says. I think it was called bolleyball. And I think I only played it because it rhymed with my name.”
“You’re thinking of volleyball,” Jolanda corrects. “I’ve played a ton of these, but only in VR. A lot of people hate that because it isn’t pure, but if you have a halfway decent physics engine and synaptic integration, there’s really no difference these days.”
“What are we doing here?” Zelda asks. She sounds and looks bored.
“Zel, I would have thought you loved this stuff,” Elise points out.
“There are too many rules,” Zelda complains. “I don’t like rules. I mean, back when dying once meant dying forever, I understood the rules for safety. And I even understand them today for the purposes of continuity, pain aversion, and convenience, but these little sports have such arbitrary rules. They’re all, like, you can’t bounce that with two hands, or, it’s gotta bounce once and inside of these white lines. A lot of the rules have to do with bouncing and dropping. I just don’t find it exciting.”
“We’re not here to be excited,” Rage clarifies. “We’re here to learn the mechanics of gameplay. Some of you use your minds, some of you use your bodies. Traditional sports marry the two. Those rules you hate, Zelda, are part of that. You have to remember where the ball goes and how to get it there. You have to see the obstacles in real time, and find a way around them. Half the audience is cheering you on, half of them wanna see you fail. None of you has done activity on behalf of someone else. Even I, who has usually been part of a team, sees an escape room as a private accomplishment. I share the joy of accomplishment with my team, but my mind leans on what I personally got out of it. Sports athletes can’t think like that. Their sole job is to serve the team, even if that means sitting on the bench during a play and encouraging their teammates. That’s why I signed us up for the Total Lifestyle Experience.”
“What’s the total lifestyle experience?” Elise asks as Rage is walking off. She and the others rush to catch up. “Hey, what’s the total lifestyle experience?” she repeats.

An hour later, the six of them are standing on the grass field. They expected a big fancy arena, but this place looks like it’s been neglected. They’re wearing the same uniform, which is a shirt, short shorts, tall socks, and spiky black shoes. There’s another team of six people here, Combined, they’re standing in a triangle shape, using the wall as a third side. At the top point is a scraggly white-haired man. His shorts are even shorter, and he has a whistle. It’s impossible to not notice his whistle.
He’s been whistling this whole time, apparently communicating with the bots who are running around the field, moving equipment around. Now he finally turns to sneer at the players. “So you think you’re good enough for league football, do ya?” he asks in an English accent. “You’re the sorriest lookin’ excuses for players I ever saw this side of the meridian!” He looks at one of the other team’s members. “Your shirt is on backwards, ya wanka! What’s the matter, ya never worn clothes before?”
The youngish-looking girl tries to pull her elbow in to turn the shirt around, but is too embarrassed to keep going, so she ends up pulling it off all the way.
The boss guy, whatever his job is, shakes his head. “Girls in the league. What are we gonna have to let in next? Billy goats!? I long for the days when men were men!”
One of the other women on the other team begins to walk away.
“See, that’s my point. Women can’t handle the stress of being in a real club. What’s your problem, young lady? That time of the month?” He laughs and slaps Minotaur’s shoulder because they’re standing the closest, expecting them to agree.
“I have a vagina too,” Minotaur snaps back, shutting him up.
The blonde woman comes back with a football. Without saying a word, she tosses it towards the girl who was wearing her shirt backwards. The girl does a backflip, kicking the football behind her. As she lands on her feet, the ball ends up square in the goal, which is halfway down the field. “Any questions?” the blonde asks.
Somehow, the old man shuts up even harder. He does eventually have to continue, though. “I have to go make sure there’s no scheduling conflict with the pitch. In the meantime, you can either run drills or talk about your fee-fees.” He walks off.
The blonde from the other team, who appears to be in charge, smirks at the hunters. “We’ve got you on toast. Who do you even play for? I earn your life in a week.”
“Did you have to look up football slang, or does being an arsehole come naturally to you?” Rage volleys.
“Rage, what are you doing?” Elise questions. “What’s happening here?”
“I told you,” Rage begins. “I signed us up for the total experience. We’re a ragtag group of eclectic misfit underdogs. They’re the jerk pros who everyone knows is gonna win the big game until the last second when the shyest and least confident player on our team uses a random, seemingly unrelated, skill from their life for a complete upset.”
The treasure hunters stare at Rage, still not quite understanding the point of it, but also not getting the point of playing football in the first place, so they might as well lean into it. Elise looks back over at the blonde boss. “Wankuh.”
The blonde laughs. “Not quite how you pronounce it, but I’ll take it. Before we play the big game,” she goes on with airquotes, “you should know that we’re after the same thing. There’s a deeper level to Treasure Hunting Dome. We’re gonna find it first.”
Rage looks extremely surprised and distressed. She clearly had no idea.
The blonde smirks again. “It’s nice to meet you. I’m Miracle. Miracle Brighton.”

Tuesday, August 25, 2026

Microstory 2742: Pushing Through

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Over the last hour, Runaway has been reaching into the minds of her progenitors, and making them escape wherever they happened to be so they can find refuge in Tau Station. The station, meanwhile, has been moving closer and closer to the center of the universe, as has Pribadium’s lab. The Little Crunch, as Sugar—which is what Sora has chosen to call her—has decided to call it, is still heading their way. So far, there have been no casualties, but that’s only coming off Runaway’s knowledge. It could have happened prior to her genesis. And soon, there will be no safe place left to hide.
That’s why their priorities have completely shifted. They no longer have two objectives, but one. The barrier is dangerous, and a huge threat to all. They have no choice but to refocus their efforts on saving everyone. Having the mobile command center would be great, but it’s not worth people’s lives, and it’s an all-hands on deck situation. Runaway may be more powerful, but her knowledge doesn’t include anything about the lab, and Sugar is literally out of date, so Pribadium is in charge.
She has been barking orders at all three of them, Sora included. She gave him a teleporter vest so he can jump to various parts of the facility. He is mostly sealing bulkheads manually since all available power has been rerouted to propulsion. Runaway has done the same thing to Tau Station. This only solves the immediate issue, though. They are trapped in this pocket universe with no apparent escape.
“We have to punch through it!” Runaway argues. She’s figured out how to multitask, so she can carry a conversation while fully in control of her progenitors.
“Through what, the gravity generators? I’ve already thought of that,” Pribadium explains. “It won’t work. It will only crush us faster.”
“No, the dimensional generators,” Runaway argues.
“Those are for pocket dimensions. They’re not going to get us back to real reality,” Pribadium reasons. “We would still be crushed, except we won’t see it coming anymore.”
“Dimensional generators synthesize temporal energy. Don’t use them correctly. Break them open. Focus the energy through a hot pocket purge, and create a doorway.”
Pribadium shakes her head. “You’re talking about an artificial wormhole. Just because it’s manmade doesn’t mean it will be any more stable than a natural wormhole.”
“Stop!” Sugar suddenly cries before Runaway can push back on Pribadium.
Everyone halts. “What is it?” Pribadium questions. “Do you have a better idea?”
“I have the only idea,” Sugar contends as she’s stepping over and gently moving Pribadium and Runaway’s hands away from the controls that they were hovering over. “We are going about this all wrong. The only reason the walls are closing in is because we’re trapped between the membrane of the universe, and the false vacuum we call outer space. We may think we have to slip back in to survive, but even if we manage to punch a hole in the dimensional barrier, the resulting explosion could be catastrophic...for us, and anyone else in the vicinity.” She looks at her future self. “Pribadium, you wanted to leave the universe. You wanted to create your own. That’s exactly what we have to do. The bulk is a stable equilibrium. We will be safe there.”
“But we’ll be trapped,” Pribadium says. “These people can never go home.”
“Can’t they?” Sugar questions. “Isn’t traveling the bulkverse the whole point?”
They think quietly on their own. “So we push through,” Runaway determines.
“We push through,” Pribadium agrees.

Tuesday, August 11, 2026

Microstory 2732: Tree of Thought

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Pribadium gives Sora a go in the equilibrium chamber. He likes it because anyone can use it, whether they have been biologically or technologically enhanced, or not. It doesn’t even have to be alive. Bulk forces act on every object with the force equal to its mass. This allows everything to stay in place unless moved by some other force. Sora places his cup of tea in front of him and to the side, as if there were a table there, and it stays. Gravity doesn’t exist here, atmospheric pressure doesn’t either. It doesn’t move until he reaches back for it. He even leaves it upside down, and it’s fine. He says that he forgot to have fun. Elke’s arrival, while it sparked love in him, was filled with so much anxiety and longing that he stopped enjoying daily life. He spent all of his time focused on her, both before and after her death. He can barely recall what his hobbies were. He would have loved to play in an equilibrium chamber back then, probably. Since he’s no scientist, he goes off to another area of the outpost to find his bliss.
Pribadium!One and Pribadium!Two, meanwhile, have work to get through. Their mission is to pull this small pocket of space out of the universe entirely, and let it exist as its own miniature universe. Once there, they will be able to travel to other branes, just like The Crossover or Zoey Attar. They will be able to adjust their own laws of physics, and explore new worlds. They will break new ground. Neither of them has ever done this before, but Pribadium!Two has more experience. She offered to transmit the memories and knowledge into Pribadium!One’s brain, but the latter declined. She wants to be herself, and not mix each other together.
“No, that’s not gonna work,” Pribadium!Two warns over her shoulder.
Pribadium!One sighs. “I’m starting an arboreal progression. I’ve not yet gotten to the pruning stage. Do you not remember how we work? How much have you changed?”
“No, I remember the arboreal technique. I just didn’t think you needed to start with a seed, since I already have a ton of hard data over here,” Pribadium!Two argues.
“Yes, I saw your data, but you were mostly looking at it from the main sequence. Now we’re in the new parallel. We have to start from scratch. We can compare notes later. But that won’t be until after my tree grows, after I prune it, and after I climb it.”
“After we climb it,” Pribadium!Two tries to correct.
“No, I want to climb it myself. It’s not that I don’t trust you, it’s that I’m trying to keep my work contained and isolated, so it stands up to future testing. I don’t want to be biased by your research. The very basis of science is reproducible results. If I can’t reproduce them without looking at your results first, they won’t hold up. In fact, why don’t you go down to the aux lab, so we don’t even occupy the same space.”
“Why would I go to the aux lab? I’m the one who needs the main servers for the simulations. You’re still a seedling!” Pribadium!Two contends
“Oh, the servers down there are fine,” Pribadium!One reasons dismissively.
Pribadium!Two shakes her head. “No, I have been upgrading the primaries.”
“You have?” Pribadium!One pushes her alt self aside to check her workstation. “Goddammit, I didn’t give you permission to make changes. Now I’ll need to reconfigure all of my preferences. Just because you technically have credentials, doesn’t mean you should use them. This is my lab. Yours is in another reality. Please respect that.”
“I suppose we need to come up with some ground rules before we proceed.”
“I suppose we do,” Pribadium!One agrees.

Monday, August 10, 2026

Microstory 2731: The Choices We Make

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Pribadium!Two offered to explain to Sora what happened to his alternate self, but he decided that he didn’t want to hear it, at least not right now. They all three split apart, and went to their separate corners. They need to decompress from everything going on, and process all the new information. If they miss their window to create a mobile pocket universe, then so be it. It was never going to be an instantaneous endeavor, and it’s prudent to wait a bit anyway. This is a huge undertaking, which will have massive ramifications in this universe, and who knows how many others?
Pribadium!One is lying in her equilibrium chamber now, thinking about Sora. When they first met, he was a clear opponent. She was trying to get him to calm down and see reason, but she never thought she would feel bad for him like this. The story he told about his crush on Proxima Doma was heartbreaking. She teased him with the chance to get some closure, and then about immediately took it away from him. It wasn’t fair, and she’s going to have to figure out a way to apologize for it, besides simply literally saying the words. He obviously needs some space right now, though.
A door alert. It’s Sora. When she commands the AI to open the door, he walks in. “Sorry, I didn’t know you were sleeping. I can come back later.”
“No, it’s okay.” Pribadium!One stands up and hangs there mid-air.
His eyes widen. “How are you doing that? I thought antigravity was impossible.”
She lowers her legs one by one like she is climbing down a ladder, towards what’s considered down. “It’s not really antigravity, per se. Though, I suppose we could make that happen too if I figure out how to contain quintessence. I have some friends who built a machine that uses it, but it was awkward between us, so I never got the chance to study it in depth. Anyway, no, this is an equilibrium chamber. Another friend of mine developed it, and now they use it extensively on Varkas Reflex. People stay in simulated environments for years on end. This perfectly distributes the pressure on your body, so you don’t suffer the negative health effects of extended immobility.”
Sora stares at the apparatus, curious enough, but obviously not really thinking about it. Their goals are unaligned, and one of them might have to relent one day.
It’s not just about him, though. He’s not the only person they have to worry about. Thousands of colonists who just so happened to be on this side of the host star have the right to decide what to do with their own lives too. She’s just glad that most people escaped the bubble. She placed her lab away from the activity even though it placed her in the line of fire of the upcoming obliteration blast, because she knows exactly when it will arrive, and has ways of avoiding it. Now that doesn’t matter anymore. “Did you want to talk about something?” she asks as she’s stepping out.
“I don’t need to talk to Elke,” he answers. “Before you say anything, I realized that she made her choice. Whatever her reasons, I wasn’t worth sticking around for. We knew each other for years. Her suicide took years, but she never gave up. If she survived it—if she didn’t end up killing herself again on the other side, then that still has nothing to do with me. It never did. So you two go ahead and do whatever you need to do with the weird universe thing. I’m not much help, but I’ll be here. I’ll support you.”
“This wouldn’t happen to have anything to do with what she said about us?”
“About how we were together in another timeline? No. This is my choice.”
“Okay,” Pribadium!One says. “I’ll speak to my alternate self in the morning.”

Friday, August 7, 2026

Microstory 2730: Time Spent

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Time may be an important factor. It is hard to tell how delicate their position is. The dimensional barriers could snap under the gravitational and quintessential weight as the two opposing forces fight each other for supremacy, with the Gatewood Collective caught in the middle. Pribadium!Two believes that their laboratory sits on the very edge of the unique spatial bubble that the star system is in. She selected this secret location specifically because of its distance from everyone and everything else.
“Why wouldn’t it be in the center? This is where the time machine is,” Sora notes.
“Exactly,” Pribadium!Two agrees. “It was not omnidirectional. The spatial warping spread out from here, towards the gravitational barycenter of the system, which is in Barnard’s Star. That’s why half the system isn’t in the pocket universe.”
Sora regards her in disgust for a moment before redirecting his attention to Pribadium!One. “So you just let her out of her cell, and we trust her now?”
“She’s helping us. We need her,” Pribadium!One explains. “Sorry to brag, but two heads are better than one if they’re both my head.”
Sora scoffs. “She’s the one who told me that I couldn’t speak with Elke.”
“For now, it’s true,” Pribadium!Two starts to say.
Sora holds up a dismissive hand. “I was talking to the real Pribadium.”
“She’s right,” Pribadium!One explains. “It’s not just a calibration issue. If we disturb the balance that we have managed to achieve here, it could all fall apart.”
Pribadium!Two nods. “Yeah, and—”
“Zip it,” Sora interrupts again. “What exactly does that mean? What happens if it falls apart? Do you mean we all die? Because you don’t seem too distressed about it.”
Pribadium!One sees how Sora is treating her alternate self, but she feels compelled to ignore it, and answer his question. “People here will be fine, as long as the star stays inside of the pocket too, which I don’t see why it wouldn’t. It’s holding every atom together so the quintessence doesn’t pull it apart. What we’re trying to do is create a permanent equilibrium, and to do it in an extradimensional realm called the bulk.”
“I don’t care about that. I want to see Elke again, I want to reunite with my people, in whatever reality it is, and I want us to settle down in a new home,” he reasons.
Pribadium!Two starts to talk as quickly as she can. “And you can still do that—”
“I don’t wanna hear from you again!” Sora shouts. “Your opinion doesn’t matter!”
“Hey,” Pribadium!One jumps in. “Sora, I know you got some rest, and that put you back to your old self, which I find...incredibly annoying, but I have seen a kinder version of you. You have it in you to show respect at all times. You’re not Mr. Hyde.”
“I don’t know who this Hyde guy is, but this is the real me,” Sora contends. “This is who I am. The man I am when I’m tired is weak, and a pushover. I hate him. He’s—”
“Thirteen months,” Pribadium!Two interrupts, giving him his own medicine.
“What?” Pribadium!One questions.
Pribadium!Two looks directly at Sora. “We were together for thirteen—I mean, we weren’t together. We...well, we weren’t nothing. I just mean...I didn’t know how much time we needed to fix the past, so I intentionally overshot it. We spent over a year making sure that the Teaguardians never had any reason to destroy Doma Tertia.”
“Then where am I now?” Sora pressed. “You never did say. I find that—”
“You’re dead! You sacrificed yourself!” Pribadium!Two breathes. “For me.”

Wednesday, July 29, 2026

Microstory 2723: Not Part of the Plan

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Pribadium always keeps an excess of nanites for such occasions. She releases enough to encompass Sora in a vacuum suit, as well as herself. When he takes her hand, she teleports them into orbit. The two Teaguardian ships here are powering their weapons, and it will do enough damage to the planet to still kill the two of them. She has cleared the signal jammer, so her consciousness has begun streaming to her backups again, but it will take some time before the update is complete. Besides, she has to protect this dumbass. So she keeps teleporting them until they’re far enough away.
From this vantage point, they watch as the weapons reach critical mass and converge on a single spot on the world below them. They seemed to have been aiming for the settlement, so everyone living there is already dead. The Teaguardians don’t have to keep going. Yet they do. In minutes, it’s quite clear that they’re planning to obliterate Doma Tertia. But there’s a reason Pribadium chose not to do it this way in the first place. It might be quicker, but it won’t last. The gravity well is too strong.
Every celestial body holds something known as gravitational binding energy. If you want to break it apart, you need any amount beyond that binding energy. If you don’t reach this threshold, it may still break apart, but then it will just come back together. Even if it takes years, it will recoalesce because the total mass has not changed. That’s why they constructed a stellar shotgun on Ross 154, because they needed a shit ton of energy to get it done. What the Teaguardians are doing here is only making things worse. The whole point is to get at all of the raw material without having to dig themselves out of the gravity well every time they want to redistribute it. Now that’s what they will have to do. But there’s an even greater problem. It’s all about safety.
You can’t just go blowing up planets without any regard for what else is around. The energy beams are coming from several light years away. They knew exactly when they were going to deploy, and what the Gatewood system would look like when that energy finally arrived. In order to protect the people who needed to live and work here during the blasts, they determined where the safe zones were. For the last several months, in preparation for the demolition, everyone was moved to a handful of little pockets of safety. These were calculated, recalculated, verified, and reverified by literally thousands of independent entities. All of those precautions are no longer viable. If she doesn’t undo this, the entire star system will have to be abandoned for decades.
Pribadium sighs. “I really have never heard of Tertius or Aeterna,” she begins, “but I am not surprised. A number of people were born with the ability to manipulate time or space in various ways. Others became that way later in life. I had to discover the power through years of science and exploration. Time travel is real, Sora.”
“You can go back and undo this?” Sora asks. “You can save my people?”
“No,” she answers. “But you can. The only way to stop the Teaguardians from shooting the planet is by not giving them a reason to. Only you can do that.”
“Was this all part of the plan?” Sora questions. “Was it nothing more than an elaborate ruse? Were you just trying to trick me into changing the past?”
“You think I blew up a planet just to get you to help me undo it? Mr. Shimizu, that makes no sense. I could have teleported you all offworld whenever I wanted. I was going for diplomatic avenues. I never wanted you to know the truth. So how about it? You wanna help me save the world? Or are you gonna be, like, a dick about it?”

Sunday, July 5, 2026

The Advancement of Mateo Matic: September 15, 2559

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When no one else stepped up, Marie decided to choose their next destination. She consulted the bulk map, and cross-referenced it with an updated copy of the central archives, landing on a colony once more thanks to its funny name. The database listed it as the Patsy Richelieu Best First Quarter Star. Not even Ramses or Leona understood why it would be called that, and they decided not to bother trying to figure it out before they left. It seemed innocuous enough. They weren’t going unprepared, however. Ramses designed a go-bag filled with essential survival items, like multitools, a first aid kit, and a dayfruit starter pack. It also contained hardened, but dormant and shielded, electronics in case they ran into another issue. The chances of what happened on the last planet happening again weren’t high, but they were not zero. He wanted to be prepared. Romana wanted to carry it, still feeling guilty about last time.
They slung to the coordinates, finding themselves falling towards some kind of planet. “Not habitable,” Mateo announced, looking at his sensors. “Not naturally.”
“I’m not picking up any artificial structures on the surface,” Leona said, “but we can’t see the other side. Still, there are no radio signals, which makes some sense. It’s a super-terrestrial. The surface gravity is highly variable, but about 8.7G.”
“Maybe we ought to jump to that manmade object up there,” Angela warned, “unless we want to plummet to our deaths in the atmosphere.”
They jumped to the ship, but not inside of it. Leona cleared her throat after she opened a channel. “Orbiting vessel. This is Captain Leona Matic of Team Matic. We mean you no harm. Could we have permission to board?”
A woman’s voice replied, “come on in! I made bundt cake!”
An airlock opened. They floated inside, and waited for the hatch to close behind them, then for the airlock to repressurize. The inner door opened.
The woman was waiting for them, holding her plate. She was wearing a white tank top and a tennis skirt, like an off-duty college cheerleader. “Welcome to our home, new friends. My name is Patsy Richelieu. I’m in charge around here.” She took another bite. “How did you arrive? My logs didn’t record someone using the quantum terminal, though it is open to public access, so maybe I set the preferences wrong. I’m not an engineer.”
“I can check it out for you,” Ramses offered. “You probably have it set right. We came in through a nearby terminal, then flew here manually.”
“Oh, what fun,” Patsy decided. “Hungry?”
“We could eat,” Mateo answered. Everyone out here just wanted some intelligent connection, didn’t they? No one needed saviors or rescuers. Just good old fashioned human conversation. “Could we ask...the name of your star?”
“Oh, haha,” Patsy began as she was leading them down the corridors. I started a new job as a saleswoman in July of 2026. I had no experience; even fibbed a little on my résumé, but I was a natural talent. I had the best first quarter on the job of anyone in company history at the time. My boss awarded me with this star at the company retreat.”
“Oh, it was one of those name-a-star scams. I mean—sorry,” Leona apologized. “You obviously managed to convert it into a real claim after five hundred years.”
Patsy giggled. “Don’t you fret. I thought it was stupid at the time too, but it did mean something, because the company didn’t approve it. My boss had to pay for it with her own money, and the closer stars are much more expensive. They made me feel at home, which I honestly didn’t expect. I had been searching for a job, not a career. I ended up retiring from that same position after 44 years of service. Do you know money? Were you alive back then?”
“We were,” Marie answered.
Patsy nodded, then went on, “then humanity invented AI, net positive fusion, and anti-aging technologies, and it started to feel less ridiculous. Over the centuries, I kept this place in the back of my mind, and once Project Stargate reached this far into the galaxy, I decided I might as well lay claim to what a piece of paper and a $250 bill said I already owned.” It didn’t validate the entire scam, but at least this one person got what she paid for. Pretty cheap for an entire solar system. It looked like there was nothing for them to do here either, though. Their new paradigm of not being useful would continue. They could eat cake, and that was about it. Nevertheless, if this woman was lonely, maybe that would be enough.
As they were following her down the corridors, they started to hear chatter. A set of doors slid open, revealing a huge crowd of people in a mess hall, also wearing surprisingly sexy outfits, and also eating cake. They started cheering, and saying things like “hey, Patsy! and “Patsy’s back!”
“Forgive me,” Leona began, “but are they NPCs? I don’t mean to be rude.”
“No, they’re independent,” Patsy assured them. I have a lot of friends. I’m very friendly. I met most of these people on the quantum boards. They all wanted to do something weird, and there’s nothing weirder than living around a star called Patsy Richelieu Best First Quarter. Like I was saying, I have an open-door policy.”
“So, you don’t need anything?” Mateo pressed. “Everyone’s okay?”
“Yeah, why? What did you hear?” Patsy asked as she was licking the last of the frosting off of her fork.
“Nothing. That’s just what we do, going around making sure the colonies are all right,” Mateo answered.
She smiled, as she twirled the fork against her teeth. “Why, you’re even friendlier than I am, aren’t ya?” She faced her people. “Hey, everyone! These guys are part of some kind of volunteer colony outreach program! Isn’t that sweet!”
They cheered again.
“Well, we don’t need anything,” Patsy explained, “but we could always use a few more smiling faces. That’s the only rule. You have to smile.”
The seven of them kind of already thought they were smiling, but they forced themselves to make it more blatant.
“We’ll work on it,” Patsy decided. “Go, sit down. It’s time to eat!”

Sunday, May 31, 2026

The Advancement of Mateo Matic: September 10, 2554

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Today was the day of the launch. Ramses’ automators had constructed 121 million Outriders, and he was ready to let them go. Team Keshida had built billion of modules for Project Stargate, but that was designed to spread to every star system in the galaxy. That wasn’t necessary here. They only needed enough to get to every region for now. They still hadn’t come up with a specific reason for Operation Starframe, but perhaps something would come up sometime in the next 108 years when the farthest ones settled at their posts. They were obviously avoiding the stellar neighborhood, and every system beyond that which was also colonized, or soon enough would be.
Ramses wasn’t sending the Outriders via rockets or launch loops. He was teleporting them away, but using a very specific method. There were different types of teleportation. Momentum was sometimes conserved and sometimes not—depending on how you applied the pressure—but going the other way by adding momentum? That was more difficult to pull off, though still easier than having to include so much gravity in the calculations. This allowed him to grant a boost to each Outrider, so it wouldn’t have to rely solely on its own fuel, but also limited the amount of infrastructure he had to build. He could dispatch hundreds of them at a time using this technique. This would take a few days, but enough of them would go out today that he could monitor the situation, and trust that it would continue to go smoothly.
Mateo, Leona, and Olimpia were lying on a bed under a room-sized glass dome on the moon. They were watching the Outriders disappear from their launch pads. Each one gave off a burst of light. Ramses intentionally programmed them to have different colors, so the visual was more spectacular. Their little dome was projecting an augmented reality, which was zoomed into space a little so they could see the exit bursts as well before the Outrider entered reframe speeds, and disappeared entirely.
They were enjoying the quiet when Sanaa Karimi’s face suddenly appeared on screen. “Can you see me now?”
“Sanaa, what’s wrong?” Leona asked.
“Nothing,” Sanaa replied, though the image quality was bad. She was pixelating, echoing, and skipping. “Except for this connection. I was told you had a pyramid.”
“We do. We had to chop off the top, though,” Leona replied. “It opened us up to unwanted visitors.”
“Whatever. Look, The Superintendent reached out to me. He’s trying to write today’s story, but nothing is coming to his mind. He knows that Operation Starframe, or whatever, is happening today, but it doesn’t lead to anything interesting. So he’s going to cut this short. He’s evidently really busy working on something called...” She paused to check her notes on her tablet. “...The Last Refuge. It’s eating up all of his time, and he thinks that you will be fine without him for at least another week.”
“What does that mean for us?” Mateo questioned.
“He says you should talk with your daughter, but that the audience doesn’t need to see it. It’s time for you to accept her choices so she can move past her loneliness arc. The story can’t restart until then, and it’s boring until it does. I’m bored with it already.” She looked upwards. “Anything else, oh Wide One?” She waited. “Yeah, I did mean wise, sorry.” More waiting. “Yeah, I’m sure you’re working very hard at your diet. Can I get back to my life now?” One final pause. “Okay.” She looked back at the camera. “Bye.”
They all sighed and went back to stargazing until Olimpia said, “ya know, they killed God on Supernatural, and the world didn’t end.”

Sunday, April 5, 2026

The Advancement of Mateo Matic: September 2, 2546

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Mirage and Ramses worked closely together. They had to design something that had never existed before; an onboard bulk energy weapon. A quintessence gun. The obvious choice was to reroute all that raw power from the slingdrive to the heat shunt. They were already halfway there—the hot pocket was made to pull in energy from the drive. The only difference was that it used to only be for waste heat, and now it had channel quintessence. As per usual, Ramses developed all of the procedures to make these changes by the end of the day, and then disappeared. When they returned a year later, it was done. “It’s all done?” Ramses questioned.
“All done,” Mirage confirmed. “The original planetary-scale black hole was pushed clear of the gravity well of Castlebourne’s recently moved-in solar system, so it shouldn’t cause any more issues for them. I made the new black hole about 690 light years from here, in the intergalactic void, where no one will bother it. Just in case, however, I left a buoy nearby with a copy of Thistle on it to monitor for any traffic within the next several billion years while there still might be some organics who need a certain threshold of gravity. I figured out how to switch the gravity regulators on Thālith al Naʽāmāt Bida and Varkas Reflex to the new source, so both planets have returned to normal gravity. The inhabitants are starting to delocalize again, though they seem to be a little gunshy about it since they still don’t know what happened.”
Members of Team Matic exchanged looks with one another. Once again, they had been rendered obsolete. Their apparent job now was to go in, spot a problem, then find someone else to fix it for them. Looking at the math, this should have always been their modus operandi, but they had already discussed all that. Leona nodded respectfully at Romana. “Okay. You’re up. Where do we go now, Navigator?”
Romana held her finger upwards and in front of her, as if showing the way to their new destination. “We’ll go,” she began melodramatically, “inside.” She disappeared.
Ramses turned back to Mirage. “Thank you for...” He trailed off before restarting, “well, I was going to thank you for your help, but I suppose I should thank you for letting me help.”
Mirage smiled sincerely. “You’ll figure out your place in this post-Edge universe. There are still some worlds that you have not returned to in a while.”
They said their brief goodbyes before teleporting into their interdimensional habitat. They had no reason to believe that anyone in Castledome would mess with their belts, but still, before Romana could give them a real answer, Leona activated burst mode. The whole stack rapidly jumped over and over again until they were at a safe distance from all others. She then sat down at her usual place on the circular couch. “Are we just taking a break?”
They all looked at Romana. Romana looked at Ramses. “What?” he asked.
“The thing,” Romana egged him on.
“I genuinely don’t know what you’re talking about,” Ramses said.
“The big thing you were working on,” Romana said, still vaguely. “I think you called it Operation Starframe?”
“Oh,” Ramses said. “That’s just an idea. I wasn’t keeping it a secret, I was just weighing the pros and cons. I’m not sold on the utility of it.”
“The utility of what?” Marie asked.
“Well, Project Stargate and Operation Starseed left Gatewood before the reframe engine was invented. Well, it had technically been invented by then, but there was only one ship, and Team Keshida didn’t integrate the technology into the modules, even though time travel could have given them that. Anyway, at this point, those modules have not yet made it even 300 light years. Operation Starframe would realize that alternative, but...I was thinking...only for us.”
“No one called it Starframe specifically,” Leona began, “but we considered that possibility at the Edge meeting. Kestral and Ishida were neutral on the proposal, but we ended up voting against it. There was only so much we were willing to give the public, and that...that was just too much. Colonization should be a controlled effort, happening gradually, so you don’t end up with a bunch of Linwood Meyers out there. Statistically, some would end up building something abhorrent on the other side of the galaxy before anyone realized it.”
“You mean like an oppressive empire run by an immortal megalomaniac?” Olimpia offered.
“Yeah, just like that,” Leona agreed. “We hadn’t heard of the Oaksent at the time, but we were worried about the possibility.” She looked back over at Ramses. “But this would be just for us? For what?”
“Exactly on that last question,” Ramses agreed. “It would be to get us around the slingdrive’s main limitation. We can only sling to where there is already an established presence. A fleet of beacons would let us go anywhere, and we would only have to wait about seven months to cover the Milky Way. But why would we do that? What would we need that for? One secret place for us, maybe, I can see there being a benefit, or maybe a few sanctuaries, but we don’t need the whole galaxy. That’s why I’ve not brought it up. I’ve been trying to determine the mission statement.”
“Plus,” Mateo said, “once the colonists do end up on those worlds, they’ll be confused about why there’s already a competing quantum terminal in the system.”
Ramses shifted in his seat a little. “Well, we don’t need a terminal to reach it, and I don’t even think it needs to be that big. I still don’t know the threshold. What does a presence even mean? Could we leave a 20th century digital watch there to serve as the beacon? What if one of the Al-Amins was there with no technology at all? Could we map onto another person instead?”
“So let’s do that,” Romana suggested. “Let’s spend the rest of the day running those tests. Send a bunch of reframe probes in all different directions, at different distances. One will be carrying the watch. Another will have a smartphone. One can have, like, an electric car... And so on, and so forth. I guess we would be doing the tests next year, instead of today, but still, you could start today.”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Ramses countered. “We’ve still not figured out the point.”
“Options,” Leona said. “It gives us options. What if there’s a threat out there that’s below the threshold, so we can’t get to it, but it can get to us, or someone innocent? Or what if we learn that the beacon does have to be electronic, and can’t just be people, and an anti-tech cult of cannibals forms on a colony a thousand years from now, but they’re so remote, no one can get to them...except for us. Because we left a digital watch on their planet’s moon 700 years before that?”
“You want us to be the stewards of the galaxy?” Ramses pushed back.
“Well...guardians is taken.”
Ramses blinked a few times before taking a couple deep breaths. “All right,” he said with the enthusiasm of an entry level worker who didn’t want to lose his job, but also had his limits. “I’ll get started on it.”
“You don’t have to if you don’t want to,” Leona insisted. “This isn’t an order. I thought you wanted it, but you can reject the idea, or delay it, or whatever you need.”
“No, I want it, but it’s gonna take some time,” Ramses warned. “I don’t think it will be too much work for me—the automators should take care of the fabrication while we’re gone—but it took Team Keshida years to develop the original Project Stargate. To be fair, that was 300 years ago, but clanking replicators can’t break the laws of physics.”
“Take your time,” Mateo told him. “We’re all here for you, even if that means staying out of your way.”
Ramses returned to his lab to develop yet another project. The rest of the team was useless for the rest of the day. They didn’t have nearly enough reframe-capable vessels, and wouldn’t for another year, if that. Romana still wanted to sling somewhere.
“I have an idea of where we could go,” Mateo began, “but I don’t want to overstep my bounds.”
“No, please, ideas welcomed,” his daughter encouraged.
“There’s an island back on Earth. I went there—well, I may have time traveled, so I don’t know when it was—but it had all sorts of fun things to do. Scuba diving, boating, parasailing, hiking, E-T-C. The whole thing was artificial, but looked natural; just perfect. They called it Star Island.”
“Yes, I heard about that,” Romana replied awkwardly. “Boyd, uhh...”
“He talked to you about it,” Mateo guessed. “It’s okay, I know that he changed from that time when we first met. I think you would like it there as much as I presume he did. There must have been some reason why he summoned us there, instead of literally anywhere else.”
“Then, if that’s what everybody wants,” Romana said, trailing off to wait for others to respond.
“This is your choice, remember?” Leona said.
“And I’m not a dictator, remember?” Romana volleyed.
Leona just smiled at her and nodded.
“Okay, we go to Star Island,” Romana decided, trying to be self-assertive and commanding.
While most of the group was transitioning to their swimsuits, Leona took the liberty of initializing the slingdrive array, jumping them all to Earth. Their belts were floating on the surface of the sea now, magnetically linked, but not in a stack. Ramses teleported out of his lab, into the common area. “Where did you just bring us?”
“Moku Hoku,” Romana answered him. “Have you heard of it?”
Ramses seemed annoyed. “I didn’t know we were gonna sling. I kind of needed the quintessence to conduct my work.”
“Oh, we didn’t think of that,” Romana said apologetically.
“It’s my fault, I should have known,” Leona contended.
“I’m the navigator,” Romana argued. “I’m responsible for this decision.”
Ramses breathed again. “No, it’s okay. I just need two of you to stay behind so I can run my tests somewhere remotely. Or we can have fun today, and delay the project.”
Leona walked up to Ramses. “Let’s delay it. You should enjoy yourself too. You have certainly earned the vacation. It’s gonna take a few centuries to get it done anyway, right? What’s one extra year?”
Ramses considered it before shaking his head, and walking away. Just as they were frowning, he spun back around, and transitioned to his own swimsuit. “Let’s show these hedonistic Earthans how to really cut loose!” They cheered in unison, and might have popped the champagne to get the party started if any of them drank.
They first teleported out into the water to make sure the belts were securely invisible, then left them floating around out there to go have fun on the island. They would come to regret their carelessness when three of them turned up missing at the end of the day.

Sunday, March 29, 2026

The Advancement of Mateo Matic: September 1, 2545

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While Team Matic was living semipermanently on Castlebourne, Hrockas set up an annual meeting on their days in the timestream. He typically wanted them to be caught up on certain things, and maybe ask for their advice or help. Even though the team had since left, this meeting was still going on and going strong. It was a review of the prior year, and a general check-in for the planet’s administrative staff. Of course, they held meetings all the time, but this was the big one. Lycander left the meeting after the unauthorized teleportation alert because responding to such threats was part of his job. They were pressed about it because everyone who was given the ability to teleport was in the meeting, and none of them had left. He reported that all was quiet on the western front, and escorted them back so they could join the meeting too. But they weren’t necessarily going to participate as if it were business as usual.
Since Hrockas wasn’t expecting them, he didn’t simply continue with the agenda. He called a recess for an impromptu debrief. His trusty bodyguard, Azad leaned against the credenza behind him, and didn’t speak. “The last time I checked, you did not have the coordinates to Castlebourne’s new location. I’m not mad, but how did you find us?”
“Truthfully,” Leona began, “you can be found, but not by just anyone. First of all, we did not come here on purpose, and we did not go through the bulk. We were investigating a gravitational anomaly on Thālith al Naʽāmāt Bida. We still don’t know how it works, but we found a key piece of technology. Due to our presence, it sent us away. It sent us...here. We have no idea how or why. Maybe it read our minds, and thought we considered it home. I don’t know. We’ll need to look into it more, but to answer the spirit of your question, Ramses created a map that sends signals through the membrane of the universe, and pinpoints technological establishments. It is precise enough to target a single-person habitat. So yes, we knew where you were. We were using it to look for someone else, and initially avoided this region, because we guessed that the signal was coming from you. That being said, if Ramses could do it, that means it can be done. It doesn’t mean that the Exin Empire can do it, but it’s not impossible. The bottom line is that you’re not safe here, but to put it in perspective, you’re not safe anywhere. Moving the star was still your smartest move.”
“You just answered all of my follow-up questions,” Hrockas said. “Thank you.” He looked over to Ramses now. “I hesitate to believe that it was a mind-reading machine. What is your hypothesis? I know you always have one.”
Ramses looked around at his friends as he hesitated. “Bida, and presumably Varkas Reflex, generate their gravity artificially. Basically, what they do is blanket a surface with an invisible portal that blocks the gravitational pull of the celestial body that you’re actually on, and just gives you gravity from somewhere else. That somewhere else part is critical. It has to come from somewhere.” He looked around again, but this time at the walls and ceiling. “My hypothesis, sir, is that it comes from here. To Trinity Turner and-or Hokusai Gimura, it might have been a random point in space. They might not have chosen it with any level of intentionality. The gravity regulator may have even chosen it for them, and it worked, so they left it as it was.”
Hrockas closed his eyes and nodded. “But then we moved a new solar system to this region, and screwed everything up.”
“Honest mistake,” Mateo assured him. “In fact, not even a mistake. You couldn’t have known that it was here.”
“Actually,” Hrockas said. “I think I did.” He stood up from his chair, and tapped the back of his ear. Ramses had given him his own set of communication discs, which operated on their own network. “Telman, could you come to my office?”
A man they didn’t know appeared. “Sir?”
“What did that—what was that thing you saw a few years ago when we first started decelerating the stellar engine?” Hrockas asked him.
“The blip?” Telman asked.
“Yes, the blip.”
Telman looked at the others in the room very briefly. “It was a blip. It messed with our quantum connections. People’s consciousnesses weren’t properly received for a few weeks. Fortunately, our safeguards worked, and their signals were rerouted to an off-site back-up facility on the outer edge of the system. But then for a few weeks after that, transmission to Castlebourne started working again, and it was the off-site facility that stopped working. We’ve had to shut it down permanently, and rely on a second outpost on an adjacent side of the system for emergency back-up streaming.”
“Teleportation stopped working too,” Azad added. “We all took the trains during that period of time.”
Hrockas nodded again. “We didn’t know what to make of it. We never found the source of the issue, but things are mostly back to normal.”
Leona paced clear to the other side of the room. “Your stellar engine, was it polar?”
Hrockas cleared his throat. “There are some things even you are not allowed to know, but...no. It wasn’t a traditional thruster. We used other means. We just call it that because there’s no other name for it, and it’s what people understand. We moved laterally, sometimes towards the planet, and sometimes away from it, depending on its place in orbit at the time. We didn’t have to worry about any sort of exhaust beam with the technique that we used, and that was the direction we wanted to go.”
“That’s okay,” Leona said. “I’m guessing that the first back-up site was on the trailing edge of the ecliptic plane, which means Castlebourne crossed a particular point first, and then it followed.”
“Yes, that’s what happened,” Telman confirmed.
“Which means we can plot where it is now,” Leona said. “If you give us the data we need, we’ll get your other outpost up and running again, and maybe save a few hundred million lives in the stellar neighborhood while we’re at it.”

Ramses holed up in his lab, and processed the data that Hrockas okayed Telman to provide for him. Telman even spent a little bit of time in there with him to discuss the issue. Ramses occupied himself all day with doing that, and designing some kind of new probe. He launched that probe before the team left the timestream, and reconnected with it after they returned on the first of September, 2545. “I found it. The probe found it. This region of the galaxy has its own gravitational anomaly. It’s kind of like a planetary-mass black hole, but it behaves unlike what the science predicts. I’m guessing the added mass of the solar system is interfering with its function.”
“Why use this?” Olimpia questioned. “Why get your gravity from a random point in space using an invisible black hole, when you can get it from a planet that already has the mass you need, say, Earth?”
“Because as we’ve seen,” Ramses continued, “that interferes with the equilibrium on both sides of the portal. You can’t share the gravity. You can only steal it. I’m starting to think that this area wasn’t the least bit random. Hokusai somehow managed to either find an Earth-mass black hole, or collapsed a comparable planet into a singularity to create one. I’m guessing that it was a rogue world, which made it inhospitable to life, and ripe for the taking according to ethical standards.”
“The timeline doesn’t make sense to me,” Angela said. “Castlebourne and the star both have deeper gravity wells than the outpost asteroid that it says the black hole is next to right now. Why have things been getting progressively worse on Bida? It seems like they would have been so much worse before.”
“That’s why it was so hard to find,” Ramses started to explain. The black hole didn’t pass through Castlebourne, or the star. They just got close to it. They got the ball rolling, so to speak. Now that the solar system has settled where it is, the issue has been worsening because it’s been persistent. The current competing gravity hasn’t been enough to destroy it all at once, but it’s been throwing things off. Before you ask, it’s actually not just compounding gravity here that is raising the gravity on the other planets. It’s simply disturbing the optimal operation of the regulators on the other side of the portals. Indeed, they were well-engineered to compensate for this disturbance, but are constantly fighting against it, and it’s taken a toll.”
“So, what can you do?” Hrockas asked him. “Can you move the black hole, or...should we try to move? I’m gonna tell ya, that’s not gonna be so easy, and definitely not fast. I can’t reach out to my contact whenever I want. We had a deal. Getting us here was the deal. I said nothing about a second move.”
“Relax,” Leona said with a laugh. “We have another solution. For the permanent one, we’ll need a reframe engine, but for the temporary one...a slingdrive.” She glanced at Rames. “A bigger one than we have. Incidentally, we must enact both plans, even if the permanent one sounds easier. It’s not easier at all. I couldn’t help but notice that none of the crew of the Vellani Ambassador was at the meeting. We really need them, and preferably yesterday.”
“They don’t come back here much anymore,” Hrockas revealed. “Their days of regularly transporting refugees are behind them. Anyone who wanted to escape pretty much has already. They mostly go on diplomatic missions on an as-needed basis. There’s still a lot of internal conflict that needs to be managed so it doesn’t explode into all-out war.”
“I assume you know about the armada that is on its way to where Castlebourne used to be,” Marie said to him.
“We do. We’ve been monitoring their progress. So far, they’re still headed in the wrong direction, but we will be prepared to fight if we absolutely have to,” Hrockas said.
“Do you happen to know where the VA is at this moment?” Leona asked.
“They don’t keep me updated,” Hrockas answered, “they don’t have to.” He paused for a second. “I can call them, if this is an emergency. Is it an emergency?”
“Not for you,” Romana said, “but for the Bidans and Varkas, uh...Reflexers...”
“Varkans,” Leona corrected.
“All right.”
Hrockas stood up, but Azad placed a hand upon his shoulder. “I’ll take care of it. It’s still glass, and you’re not armored.” He opened a cabinet on the wall and removed a few objects, like a stack of tablets and what appeared to be a king’s crown. Behind them was a second cabinet, made of glass. He punched through it with the side of his fist, letting the shards scatter in the main cabinet. He reached deep into a dark hole that they couldn’t see into, then quickly jerked backwards.
“It might be a few hours,” Hrockas told the group, “and it might not happen. Our needs do not take precedence over absolutely anything else going on. They might not be able to get away quickly, but they will eventually show up, and definitely within the year. Once they do, I’ll speak with them, and I’m sure they’ll work around your schedule so they’re here next year. I wish I could do better. I wish I had realized what we had done.”
“It’s not your fault,” Angela insisted. “Black holes are invisible.”
Mirage suddenly appeared, standing upon Hrockas’ desk. She was wearing an extremely loud rainbow outfit, and presenting in a hero stance, with her hands on her hips. “Have no fear! Mirage Matic shall be the tip of your spear!” She looked down to see the team. “Oh, hey, guys.”
“Why do you still use my name?” Mateo questioned.
Mirage teleported off the desk, and onto the floor, right behind Mateo. “Because I can see the future...husband,” she whispered into his ear. Then she nibbled on his earlobe, and slapped him on the ass before starting to walk towards the center of the room. “What can I do for you all? Your words; my deeds.”
Ramses stepped forward, and evidently decided to lean into it. “My queen, we ask for access to your great vessel. A marble-sized singularity must be moved out of this solar system. It will take a great deal of quintessence to perform such a feat, but we have no time to waste. Will you help us?”
Mirage frowned at him, but only still playacting. “This marble of yours, it wouldn’t happen to have anything to do with what’s going on with Thālith al Naʽāmāt Bida, Varkas Reflex, and Muñecai?”
The group looked amongst each other. “We didn’t know it was happening on Muñecai, but yes,” Leona answered.
Mirage nodded. “I’m quite familiar with interstellar filter portals. That is how we ended up in the Goldilocks Corridor in the first place.”
“So, is that a yes?” Mateo pressed.
Mirage pursed her lips, and turned her chin to the side. “You son of a bitch, I’m in!” she exclaimed with a smile.