Microstory 2441: Power Crystal Factory (PCF)

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Not to be confused with scifi examples of power crystals, or examples in fantasy where crystals have magical properties. Disclaimer over. For the most part, ships and orbiting stations in the system fleet are manufactured in outer space. The only reason we ever did it on Earth was because we were not capable of space manufacturing in the early days. Once we built up some infrastructure, and bolstered the industry overall, we were able to free ourselves from the gravity well. We still needed ways to actually get up to these vessels, but that was easy after everything. There doesn’t seem to be a name for the host star, or the star system as a whole, so we’ll just call it a Castlebourne thing. They build their ships on a secret moon base, which is easier for them to take off from. I caught a peek from a telescope once, and saw the mass driver that they use for launching. That’s all I know about that, and the crystal regulators. Every ship, no matter how big or small, or what powers it, or what it’s used for, has a need to distribute its power. Our ancestors used to use various technologies, like adapters, to control the flow of electrical power. These were crude by today’s standards, but the principle remains vital to the safe and efficient operation of a moving vehicle. Crystals have a variety of uses in this regard. I won’t bore you with the details, but some of them serve as conditioners, which maintain the smooth transference of power, where it’s needed. It makes sure that everything, no matter how remote, is powered at all times. But sometimes it’s too much power, so you also need crystal capacitors, which can buffer the power temporarily, and release it more gradually. If it’s buffered too much, then they can also redistribute it safely, if only to a waste heat ventilation system. Crystals are also used as nodes, redirecting or splitting the power when powering multiple independent systems at once. I say all this so you understand why this dome has to exist. So now you know why the crystals themselves are important, but that doesn’t explain why they need to be manufactured here, instead of the moon, where nearly everything else is made. It has to do with gravity. Crystals aren’t made, they’re grown. They start small, and build themselves from there, almost like a plant. For some types, this process requires 1G surface gravity, or close to it. There’s some evidence that Castlebourne’s slightly lower gravity is beneficial to the process, but they’ve not completed enough studies on this phenomenon, and there are a lot of other variables to account for. What we do know is that Castlebourne-grown power crystals are at least as good as any others. You may be asking, why don’t you just grow them in a cylindrical habitat? And I’ll tell you, that’s not real gravity. It’s only simulating gravity. For everyday living, if the spin is programmed correctly, everything feels normal. But crystals are more finicky. They also need to be still, and they can tell when they’re in motion, which is presently the only way to fake gravity. So for now, they’re grown on the surface of a full-sized planet. That’s what we do here in this dome, and we do it well. Most of this is automated, as one would expect, but I still have an important job to do here. They still like to have humans inspect the merchandise. If you ever ride in a ship that uses my power crystals, you can rest, assured that it’s been created using the highest of standards, and you’re safe. At least from crystals. Any other components, I don’t know...that’s not my department.

Microstory 2434: Canopydome

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Around the turn of the 22nd century, a major effort began to rewild Earth. Most of the population were moving to megastructure arcologies, seasteads, and space habitats. The cities of old were taking up space where life could be thriving instead. By now, the amount of horizontal space that humans take up is practically negligible. But these endeavors weren’t the very beginning of it. Closer to the middle of the 21st century, people were fed up with how their ancestors had treated the planet. They hadn’t even considered bulldozing entire cities yet, but they still knew that more needed to be done to recover the ecosystems that had already been destroyed. In particular, they were worried about the Amazon rainforest. So many trees had been taken down, and with them, the little critters that used that region as a home. They fought back against corporate greed, and began to restore what was lost. This was during the beginnings of worldwide universal basic income programs, so it was easier to push back against certain institutions. Four hundred years later, not only can we restore whole ecosystems, but create them from scratch. That is what they’ve done here under Canopydome. While nowhere near as large as the one in South America, or other parts of Earth, it’s still nice. When an individual is standing there, under the canopy, it’s not like they can tell how expansive it is. That’s the thing about a rainforest, which sets it apart from other forested environments; you’re wrapped up in the foliage, and can’t see very far. When you’re in it, it feels like this is all there is, and if you’re alone, you feel that too. At the moment, there isn’t much fauna in Canopydome, so the animal calls you hear are from hidden speakers, but I was promised that this will change in the future as more organisms are bioengineered to sustainable levels. They explained how there is actually another rainforest dome, but it’s not at all accessible to the public. It only exists to introduce various species to a comparable environment, and let them figure out how to survive on Castlebourne, before anyone shows up to gawk at them. Apparently, there are a lot of domes like this which serve this purpose. That makes sense. Regenesis is a delicate process, and slow if you wanna do it right. They could make them as realistic automatons instead, but I think they want to be as authentic as possible. One of the reasons they’re doing this is to preserve life, not just so it appears that life exists here. If you’re afraid of large animals, my advice is to come here now before they show up. In contrast, if you want to see those animals, then I advise you to wait. We’re probably talking about five or ten years depending on your definition of the climax community—or more appropriately their definition of it.

Microstory 2433: Tokyo 2077

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Did you ever go to Tokyo, Japan in the year 2077? Well...welcome back! I don’t know exactly why they chose this year for their recreation. I looked it up, there’s no Tokyo 2042, or Tokyo-Yokohama 2115. Maybe it’s random, or maybe the creator has some particular affinity for this city in this time period. They may have just as easily chosen 2075 or 2078; I dunno. I did find something when I searched for answers in the central archives that the year 2077 was used in a surprisingly great number of media, but they were all set in the future, because they were created before this. So maybe it’s just a nod to that, because the robot staff aren’t telling me anything. They just say, this is Tokyo 2077, have at it. I think I may know why Tokyo was chosen, though. At the turn of the 22nd century, there was a huge push towards population overcentralization. They figured out how to create megastructures that could fit hundreds of thousands of people each. They were nicer, newer, and allowed the rest of the land below to be returned to the plants and animals. They built these things several miles away from the population centers of the time, so people didn’t have to move very far, and once the old cities were emptied out, they could start to bulldoze them over. Tokyo was one of the last holdouts, and not because they hated pandas. There were a number of reasons, but the main one was that they were already so densely packed. There was no room to build the damn thing nearby, especially when competing against other priorities, like preexisting wildlife preserves, and historically protected settlements. They also wanted to build it near the ocean, because people love the water, and all that space was taken up, because like I literally just said, people love the water. Plus, the population by then in the Tokyo Metropolis was already so huge, one of these arcologies barely made a dent anyway. They needed a lot more to make any bit of difference. As I mentioned, it eventually merged with Yokohama, forming one gigantic city that wasn’t going anywhere soon. People eventually did move out, to seasteads, orbitals, interplanetary and interstellar colonies, and to just other parts of the world, but it took longer than anywhere else to find room to construct the megastructures. Anyway, if you have some particular interest in seeing what Tokyo looked like a few decades before this great transition—or in reminiscing—come check it out. There’s plenty to do here, but the theme isn’t any narrower than the city as a whole. It’s only a replica with robots simulating people living their everyday lives, so no one’s going to give you anything specific to do. People are starting to treat it like a violent video game, and destroying the androids like criminal thugs. I don’t know why it’s a growing trend in this particular dome, because the planet is riddled with non-self-aware droids, but you can try that if you have a lot of pent-up aggression. Be yourself, I guess.

Microstory 2398: Vacuus, May 13, 2182

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Dear Pascal,

Thank you for your letter. I have shared this development with Velia, but we’re not telling anyone else, at least not for now. We were so excited when the researchers told us that the Valkyries were moving on, and we would suffer under their harsh rule no longer. It never occurred to us that Condor wouldn’t be there when we got to the other side of the unfortunate blackout. We talked about him often, wondering what became of him with his new job, and what fun new people he would have met over the last two years. I can’t believe he’s gone, and I’m frustrated at how unfair it is that we were separated from each other for so long. We finally reconnected, only to be ripped away once more, like some cruel cosmic joke. I can’t imagine what it’s like for you. You got to know him fully. You watched him grow up. You’ve seen his laugh. He sent a few photos of himself to me and Velia, and one video to Velia. He wasn’t really much of a smiler, but we don’t have very many examples, do we? I sure would have liked to see that face again. Since we can’t tell him, Velia wants me to let you know that she waited for him. She knew she would never get the chance to meet him in person, but still, she hasn’t met anyone else. She hasn’t tried, and she hasn’t let it happen. But...I think it probably needs to happen now. Condor wouldn’t want her pining for someone who can’t even write to her from across the void, would he? No, I knew him well enough to know that. Anyway, I’ll let you go. There’s nothing to say about the blackout. Most of our lives didn’t change on a day-to-day basis. For the most part, it has no effect on our internal communications. My job is a bit different, but as the saying goes, it’s nothing to write home about. I’m still doing what I’ve been doing forever. Maybe that’s how I could honor Condor in my way, by doing something brave, and making a change in my life. I’ll think about it. Thanks again for replying. The anticipation was making me sick to my stomach. At least now I know the truth.

Your loving daughter,

Corinthia

The Sixth Key: Living Under a Rock (Part I)

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When all the inhabited terrestrial bodies and ships in the five previous concurrent realities were sent into the Sixth Key, they were mostly dumped where they were, relative to each other. There were a number of exceptions. Residents of the Parallel had managed to colonize just about every rock worth standing on in their version of the Milky Way. This included a bunch of random rogue worlds, and some planetoids, but nearly all of the more massive ones too. Other realities had done the same thing, just to a fraction of a fraction of a degree. This meant that there were multiple Proxima Domas, multiple Teagardens, multiple Waizidis, even if they went by other names. There was plenty of room in the new universe, but it threw off the gravitational distribution. There were also some worlds from other galaxies that had to be ported over. Another thing that altered the gravity was a lack of a central black hole. Sagittarius A* was not habitable on its own. It was too dense, and too deadly. Some used it for power, but there wasn’t anyone standing on its surface, and if there was no one on its surface, it wasn’t saved.

There was an empty void in the middle of the galaxy now. Some star systems that were orbiting their version of it were sent flying through space on a new trajectory, filling this void with the occasional isolate. One of these worlds happened to only have two people standing on it. It didn’t even have a name, but since it was supporting life when the Reconvergence happened, it too was shunted through the cosmic escape hatch. Not only did Echo’s parents not know that any of this was gonna happen, but they also didn’t know that anything had happened. All they could tell was that they lost all communication systems, and they were stuck there. Alone.

They made the best of their situation. The planet had an atmosphere, though not much life. They had to plant and grow their own food, but they took joy in their work, and they were happy. They ultimately conceived a child together, and raised him there the best they could. They socialized him in a virtual simulation filled with NPCs, but in the end, it was just the three of them. And then it was just two. And then it was just one. Echo Cloudbearer has been entirely on his own for the last few years, not knowing how to get to civilization, or even really whether he should. He spends some of his time in the simulations, but has grown bored with them over the years, and visits them infrequently these days. He mostly sits amongst the flowers, and strolls along the pond. It’s not perfect, but it’s home, and he’s content. This is all about to change.

As Echo is sitting against his favorite rock, he hears a whistling sound from up above that he’s never heard before. A body appears out of nowhere up in the air, and falls down hard on the ground. It’s glowing red. He approaches with caution, but he can’t get too close. A searing heat is threatening to burn off his eyebrows. He just stands there watching as the glow fades, and the body cools off. It’s a beautiful woman, and she’s not moving. She must be dead, and not because of the fall, but the metal object that’s jammed in the back of her head. When it feels safe, he kneels down beside her, and checks her life signs using the skills his parents taught him. Yeah, this woman’s definitely dead. He looks back up at the sky. Could it be? Did she fall through the atmosphere? No, she wouldn’t still be intact, and he’s sure he saw her appear out of thin air, not simply grow larger and larger as she fell closer and closer. All this time without ever meeting another soul, and the first new person he sees is already dead. What a joke.

Saddened by this bizarre and disappointing development, Echo does his duty, and buries her in the ground. There is no way for him to know if this is what she would have wanted, but that is what his parents told him to do with them after they were gone. Once he’s finished with his work, he stands beside her grave out of respect. He wants to say something nice and reverent, but again, he never knew her, and he’s also very inexperienced with talking. He isn’t necessarily naturally quiet, or reserved. It’s just that he and his parents knew each other so well. They had a shorthand, and often got things done without needing to speak. He grew used to that, and after they left him, he had even less of a reason to open his mouth. So he just stands there for several minutes, staring at the mound of dirt piled upon the new grave. After enough time passes, he just goes about his usual business.

The next morning, Echo does what he does every day, and wakes up to stand on the hill. He likes to survey the land. This is the best vantage point in the area. This is where his parents originally settled, and he has never left. There doesn’t seem to be a need to. Everything he could ever need is right here. That’s why he buried the stranger on this hill. It seemed like she deserved it, whoever she was. He quickly realizes, though, that now it can no longer be his lookout spot. It’s not his anymore, but hers. Something green in the dirt catches his eye. Is that a blade of grass in the center? He reaches down to get it out there so it’s more uniform, but discovers it to be stuck in the dirt. It’s...growing from it? He didn’t plant anything here, and even if he had, he tilled it up so much for the burial that no shoot could have survived long enough to be visible already. No, this doesn’t make any sense. Echo knows every species that grows here. There aren’t that many, so it was easy to learn when and how to plant them, which ones to plant separately, how much water each type needs. This kind of looks like one of his ohedlan trees, but there’s something off about it.

Echo continues to go about his life. He eats, he sleeps in his shallow little cave, and he makes waste. Each morning, the new magical tree has grown taller. The bigger it gets, the less it looks like an ohedlan tree, or anything else he’s familiar with. His best guess is that the dead woman had a seed of alien origin in her pocket, and it fell out while he was burying her. He tends to it, just as he would any other plant in his little garden. He makes sure that it gets water, and protects it from the kol beetles. They may be here to help, not hurt, but he can’t tell, and the tree remains too young for him to take the risk. Perhaps when its older, he can find out what they do to it. For now, this is his baby, and he’s not going to let anything happen to it.

It’s the fastest-growing tree he’s ever seen. In only about a year, it’s at full maturity, with a hardy trunk, strong branches, and blue leaves. It’s beginning to flower, but is not yet bearing fruit. That’s when it starts to talk to him. He’s not even all that surprised. He knew there was something special about it right away. The fact that it seems to have a brain is crazy, and he’s never heard of it before, but he understands that he knows very little about how the rest of the universe works. This could be entirely normal elsewhere. “What is your name?” the voice asks.

“Echo Cloudbearer. Yours?”

“We have had many names, but I have decided to settle on Clavia.”

“Are there more than one of you?”

“There once was,” Clavia replies. “We are now one.”

This is unsettling to Echo, though he would not be able to articulate why. “How do you grow so fast?”

“Time ain’t nothing but a thang.”

“I don’t know what that means.”

“We spoke up to warn you. You have shown us kindness where you did not have to. You could have let us fend for ourselves, and perhaps even died, yet you put in effort to help. We owe you a debt of gratitude.”

“Tending to my garden is all I have to do,” Echo replies. It’s true. His life is pretty easy going. He has the kol beetles to contend with, and a few other critters, but for the most part, the plants take care of themselves. They’re low maintenance, yet they still bear fruit. His life may be boring, but it’s satisfying.

“Still, you deserve to know that you will not be alone for long, and we do not mean us. We are still young and weak, and will not be able to protect you. Others will come. They’re coming for us. You must leave this place, and find somewhere to hide. They will harm you if you stand in their way, and they may interpret you as a threat whether you mean it or not.”

“What will they do when they get to you?” Echo questions.

“That is none of your concern,” Clavia says nicely. “You must hide,” she repeats.

“I protected you as a sapling, and I’ll protect you now. That is how I was raised. To hide would be to dishonor my parents, and I will not succumb to my fears.”

Clavia doesn’t respond right away. “Very well. We respect your wishes. There is not much that you will be able to do, though. To answer your question, we do not fully grasp the intentions of those coming for us. We know only that they are on their way. We believe that they detected our birth, and are coming to investigate.”

“When?”

“Tonight.”

“I’ll be ready.”

While it’s true that Echo’s parents settled in this spot, it is not where they first landed. On the other side of the rock formation in the middle distance lay the remnants of their shuttle. It did not crash, but it was damaged during a lightning storm, and has been gathering dust ever since. They stayed there for a few months while they were starting the garden, at which point they abandoned it forever. It was never forbidden for Echo to venture this far out, but he’s only been here once, and hasn’t had any reason to return until now. There are weapons here. He doesn’t know how to use them, but perhaps the sentient tree knows. That’s not all he’s after. Echo wears very little as the environment here is almost always favorable. Even when it rains, the temperature is mild, and the wind isn’t too bad. His clothes were apparently made out of seat upholstery, and other miscellaneous fabrics from their shuttle, but that’s not what the two of them were wearing when they arrived. They were in spacesuits with all sorts of tools and gadgets attached. After they died, he removed their suits from their bodies, and connected them to some kind of port on the outside of the shuttle, as per their instructions. He was told that they would be ready by now, but they never explained what they meant by that. He’s grown up to be about the same size as his father was, so his suit fits perfectly. It’s a lot more comfortable than his regular outfit too, he feels so safe and contained.

“We did not know you had that,” Clavia acknowledges. “We can only see things that are happening, not conditions that remain static.”

“You know now. What about these things? Will they be useful to us?” Echo’s parents called them guns.

“Those are dangerous...but we can teach you.”

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Extremus: Year 91

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It has not been easy, but Tinaya and Arqut have gotten through the loss of their son, and the sudden introduction of an alternate version of him. What he did cannot be undone, so the only choice is to move forward. They held a little funeral for their lost child, and then that night, they shed their last tear for him. A new tear might form itself later, but for now, they’re okay. Though Silveon may now be older than them, for all they know, it’s still their job to protect him. Even if he’s smart enough to navigate the complexities of adulthood, he’s still just a little guy, so if nothing else, he needs them to open cabinet doors, and stuff. Plus, he has to act like a baby around most people.

Tinaya has the day off today, so she’s the one taking him to his playdate. Niobe would normally do it, but she has the day off too as far as her designated guardian duties go. The door opens. “Hello. Calla, I presume?”

A woman in her fifties is standing on the other side of the door in a pink floral robe that’s insufficiently covering up a nightie that is far too revealing. She’s holding something in her hand that Tinaya doesn’t recognize. It’s a small tube that’s glowing orange on one end. She smirks at Tinaya and lifts the tube up to place it between her lips. “It’s called a cigarette. People used to smoke ‘em on Earth. Like this.” She inhales, inducing the glow to brighten just a bit. She then contorts her mouth as she removes the cigarette, and blows the smoke out away from Tinaya and Silveon’s faces.

“I don’t smell it. If it’s smoke...”

“It’s not real.” Calla takes another puff, but covers the tip of the cigarette with her hand, which blocks the holographic light from spreading throughout the area.

“What’s the point?”

“It’s real on the other end,” Calla responds. “Still fucks up my lungs.”

That’s stupid, Tinaya thinks to herself.

“Yeah, it is stupid. But at least there’s no such thing as secondhand smoke on this ship, so you should be grateful. And by the way,” she goes on as she’s stepping aside for them to come in. “I’m not in my fifties.”

Tinaya takes a deep, epiphanic breath. “You’re a psychic.”

“Born and bred,” Calla agrees with a tight voice, which leads to a short coughing fit. “Can’t turn it off. Holo-smoking helps a little. The drinking...helps a lot.” She reaches for a glass of some kind of gross brownish liquid, and downs the rest of it.

“How are you getting away with these things? They’re illegal.”

Calla chuckles as she’s pouring another. “People got secrets. I know they’re secrets.” She offers the drink to Tinaya, then shrugs and downs that one too when Tinaya declines. She pours a third. “I can get away with pretty much anything.” She walks over, and points an accusing finger at Silveon. “As long as this little shit doesn’t fight me.”

“Excuse me?” Tinaya questions as she’s pulling her son away protectively.

“I can’t read his mind,” Calla explains as she’s shuffling away from the two of them. “He must be psychic too, and the best one I’ve ever heard of if he’s already mastered his barriers at his age.”

“What about your son?” Tinaya asks. “What’s he?”

Calla freezes up, and stays there for several seconds before dropping her glass down on the table. She then waits another several seconds. “A bigger shit. Come on. He’s taking a nap, but I can wake him up.”

Tinaya follows her down the hallway after Silveon shuts his eyes, and nods. This is apparently what he wants. But he must be crazy, because not only is this woman the biggest mess she’s ever seen, but the situation with her son is even crazier. “Is this a joke? This is Waldemar? Why, he must be at least eight years old!” The boy is sleeping on his side while a toy soldier operates on its own on his pillow right in front of his face, loudly shooting imaginary enemies.

“He’s ten,” Calla corrects.

“I assumed he was a baby, like Silvy.”

“You think this was my idea? Your niece, or whatever, is the one who brought him.” Niobe knows the truth about Silveon. If she did this, it’s because he asked her to.

Silveon suddenly giggles, and gently slaps Tinaya in her temple. It doesn’t hurt, but she does feel something surge throughout her head. It quickly dissipates.

Calla narrows her eyes, and peers at her. Then she shifts her gaze to Silveon, and back again. “He just put a psychic barrier in your mind.” She once more points at him accusingly, barely holding onto the glass with her remaining fingers. “What are you?”

“He’s my son,” Tinaya declares defiantly. “He’s my baby,” she adds in a softer tone. She adjusts her hold on him against her hip. “I don’t think this is going to work out. I’m sure Waldemar is a very lovely boy—”

“He’s not.”

“Then all the more reason...”

Silveon places his hands against her collarbone, and pushes his face away from her. Even though they’ve not come up with a code for how he can communicate with her while they’re in mixed company, she is absolutely sure that he’s trying to tell her that they need to stay.

“I think he wants to stay.” Calla is interpreting the move the same way apparently.

Tinaya looks at her child with concern on her face. This is obviously part of his mission, and if she holds him back from that, she’ll have lost the younger version of him for nothing. All three of them have sacrificed so much to make this work; four, if they’re counting Niobe. They can’t give up now. She may not know Silveon very well, but no son of hers would have sent his own consciousness back in time just for funsies. It has to be incredibly important that he make the changes to the timeline that he’s surely painstakingly planned out. She switches him to her other hip. “Okay. Well, we’ll be back in twenty minutes. I forgot his favorite stuffie.”

“Whatever.” Calla closes the door. “We’ll be here.”

Tinaya leaves the unit with Silveon, but then teleports back to their stateroom from the hallway. She carefully sets him down on the couch. “Why didn’t you tell me this before? Why didn’t you warn me?” She paces the room impatiently.

“I wanted you to see it for yourself,” Silveon replies. It’s still weird, hearing this little toddler articulate so well. “If Auntie Ni and I had tried to explain it, you would have just shaken your head, and forbade us from going. I need you to understand what we’re dealing with, so you’ll see why there’s no other choice.”

“I don’t know that. I didn’t see that. Nothing about that situation tells me why the hell—!” She stops herself. She shouldn’t be cursing in front of her son.

“It’s okay, mom. I’ve heard worse. I’m an adult.”

“Yeah, you keep saying that.” She takes one beat. “Are you psychic too? Have you been reading our minds this whole time?”

“No, I can’t read your mind,” he assures her. “Anyone can learn to put up a psychic barrier, and I learned from the best. I had to.”

“Who is Valdemar Kristiansen? Or rather, who does he become?”

“Hopefully nothing,” Silveon says.

“You’re here to assassinate him? Is this you trying to subvert the Hitler's Time Travel Exemption Act?”

Silveon laughs. “No. I’m not here to hurt anybody, mother.”

She keeps pacing for a little while in silence. “Why you? He’s eight years older, and no one can take you seriously yet. Why did they choose you to do this?”

Silveon smiles kindly. “No one chose me. I didn’t even volunteer. I’m the one who realized what needed to be done. I came up with the idea, I made the plan, and I’m following it through. I had help, but this isn’t a large operation. I might have chosen someone else if I had thought that I could trust them. But if there’s one thing this ship has taught me, it’s that...you can only rely on yourself.”

“I hate that lesson,” Tinaya laments.

“Me too,” he says comfortingly. “Which is why I’m trying to change it.”

“What’s wrong with that woman?” she asks.

“Just what you would think. She hears all the despicable things that people would prefer to keep to themselves. She tries to suffocate and drown them out, but they still leak through, and...”

Tinaya can guess where he’s going with this. “And she can hear her own son’s thoughts. That’s the real problem. He’s the real problem.”

“He doesn’t have to be. I can teach him.”

She has stopped pacing, but she’s looking away now, deep in thought. “Teach me first. Tell me what I need to know about him, and the future, and I will fix him for you. I’m an adult. I’m the Captain! This is no job for a baby.”

“It is, though,” he contends. “It’s not just about knowing what will happen if I don’t help him. It’s about who he’ll listen to. And I’m sorry, but the Captain? You are the last person he’ll listen to. Not everyone respects the chair. Some hate it. Some hate you. He’s the embodiment of all that hate. He absorbs it.” He pauses for a great deal of time. “Literally.”

“So, he is a psychic too?”

“Not in the way that you’re thinking. Look, I’ve already said too much. You really shouldn’t know all this. It’s not your problem. Just pretend to change my diapers, and sign me up for school when I’m older. I’ll handle the rest.”

“Did you have kids?”

“What?”

“Of your own. Did you grow up to have kids? Can you tell me that much?”

“No, I didn’t. I was too busy. I don’t think I could have done this if I had.”

“Then you couldn’t have known that what you’ve asked me to do is impossible. I can’t just let you handle it, no matter how old you are. I will always be your mother, and I will always need you to need me.”

He processes her words, then acknowledges them with a respectful nod.

Tinaya sighs, and looks over at the nursery door. “What’s your favorite stuffie? Or, what do you want it to be? We’ve come up with a cover story, so let’s make it real.”

Silveon smiles. “The fennec.”

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Extremus: Year 90

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It’s been about a year since Niobe moved to the Extremus to establish herself as a passenger. She’s been laying low, of course, instead of making some big announcement to the whole ship. Right now, she’s living off of her newborn contribution points. While she’s obviously not actually a newborn, as a new citizen, she’s enjoying the benefits of the vessel’s amenities without having to work for them. The naturalization program was created at the beginning of this project, just in case they somehow came across time travelers, or human aliens—or regular aliens—sometime during the journey. No one expected to ever do it, and officially speaking, it still hasn’t happened yet. No one needs to know that Niobe was born on Verdemus, and that she immigrated here. All the people she’s met so far have to know is that she moved here from a different section of the ship, and that she’s not currently in the workforce.

Silveon is thuh-riving. He’s reaching his developmental milestones at a healthy and typical pace. He can walk, run, and even climb. His obsession with exerting his independence has become a bit of a problem, but they’re dealing with his mischievousness. He can say a few random words, but not the ones that they expected. He says reframe a lot, as well as crew, light, and function—though, he fails to pronounce letter N in that last word, which is funny and cute, and embarrassing in mixed company. Tinaya has agreed to talk less about work in his presence, so he starts using fewer technical words. They would rather he focus on mama and dada. He likes to color, but he does not like to stay in the lines. Some people in the family think that this means he’ll grow up to be very rebellious, but his parents know that he’s a toddler, and this is how the toddler do. It doesn’t mean anything. He’s been rather curious about the little potty that they set up in the bathroom. He is just about ready to use it.

They have him set up on it now, trying to encourage him to try. “Go on! Go potty! You can do it! Just relax.”

He stares at the two of them like they’re speaking a foreign language, which they kind of are from his perspective. He starts to fiddle with the bidet settings. They’re on a child lock fortunately, so nothing is happening. Suddenly, he stops, and they don’t know what’s going on. He takes a breath as he’s looking around, at them, at the room, and even himself. He discovered his own body a long time ago, so what was this?

“Do you think he’s developed a rash, or something?” Tinaya asks, worried.

“I’m fine, mom,” Silveon says. He takes another breath before tinkling in the potty without issue. Once he’s done, he expertly disables the child lock to use the bidet and dryer. Then he stands up, and climbs the step stool to wash his hands.

Now they’re the ones staring at him. Arqut seems to realize something. “Who are you, and what are you doing in my child’s body?”

“Relax, father,” Silveon says as he’s slipping his pants back on, sans diaper. “I’m your son. I’m just an older version of him.”

“How much older?” Tinaya questions.

“It doesn’t matter.”

“When do we get our baby back?” she presses.

He lifts his little arms up, and they realize that he’s trying to place his hands on her shoulders. She gets down on her knees to allow him to do this. “I’m sorry, mother, but your baby is gone. I’ve overwritten his mind. This was a decision that I did not take lightly. I didn’t want to have to do it, but it’s the only form of undetectable time travel available. No one can know who I really am, and they certainly can’t know what I know, and why I’m here. I have chosen to reveal myself to you purely for practical reasons. I am not an actor, and would not have been able to fool your for long. It’s better to be honest now, so you can help me fool everyone else.”

“Why so young?” Arqut demands to know. “Why did you take our son from us at such a young age?”

Silveon sighs, and walks past them, into the main room. He struggles to get himself onto the couch, clearly not used to maneuvering such a tiny little substrate. “As I said, any other form of time travel would be detectable. I would have come here years ago, but this was as early as I could do it using this method. Studies have shown that breast milk improves child development, so I didn’t want to interfere with that, but I didn’t want to experience nursing at my true age either. This was the only time, really, when you think about it.”

Both parents start to cry, but desperately try to hold the tears back.

He watches them in sadness. “We’ll tell Niobe the truth, but not Zefbiri, and not anyone else. Auntie Ni will understand, as she’s no stranger to being reyoungified. We need her to take care of me for the next few days while you mourn your loss.”

“What are you talking about?” Tinaya’s eyes are watering even more, and there’s nothing she can do about it. “How the hell are we going to mourn this?”

“It’s an ambiguous loss. I know it won’t be easy, but we came up with a plan before I left the future,” Silveon begins to explain. “I’ll write it up for you. You will get through this, and one day, you’ll just see me as your son, instead of the stranger who took him from you.”

“Who came up with this plan?” Arqut asks. He’s doing better with the tears, but not by much. “Was it us? Did we send you back here?”

Silveon has a really good poker face as he’s refusing to respond.

“We couldn’t have,” Tinaya reasons. “If we were still alive when this apparent time travel needed to occur, one or both of us would have done it instead, and gone back to whatever point in the past would have given us the advantage that he lacks by showing up today.”

“Not if we didn’t want to incidentally prevent our Silveon from ever being born in the first place,” Arqut reasons better. “November 2, 2357; that’s as far back as any of us could have gone.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Silveon reiterates. “It’s done. It can’t be undone. I know what I’m here to do, and you don’t need to know anything beyond what I’ve already told you. In fact, it’s better if you don’t. Plausible deniability, and all that. Please. Go on your vacation, and let Niobe pretend to babysit me. When you come back, I promise you’ll be able to handle this situation better. I consulted the experts. I could tell anyone I wanted in the future, because that timeline has since collapsed, destroying the secret along with it. This is the timeline that needs to exist. We’ll all move on from here. It will be better.”

“How do we know? Tinaya asks him. “How do we know that you’re telling the truth? You could be anyone. We can’t test your identity. Even if we could, we would have to tell this supposed truth to someone who could actually conduct that test.”

“Yes.” Silveon nods. “That’s a wrinkle in the general plan that we were never able to iron out. Trust is something that you’re just going to have to give without any proof. Even if I recited a secret that the three of us had between us, maybe I’m a psycho who tortured it out of one of us in the other timeline. You don’t know. You can’t. I wish I could give you a better answer, but I don’t know what else to say to help. How can I make this better? How can I make you feel better?”

“We could tell Omega and Valencia...unless they turn into bad guys in the future.”

“Omega and Valencia’s time on this ship is coming to a close,” Silveon says. “They’ll be preoccupied with the Ex Wars, and they have their own son.”

“They do?” This was news to them.

“Yeah, he’s a handful. He lives on Dardius. Or he will live there, rather.”

This conversation has been disheartening, and also exhausting. Arqut literally can’t stand it anymore. He sidesteps over to the reading nook, and sits down. Tinaya does the same with one of the dining chairs on the other side of the bathroom. Neither one of them knows what to say anymore. There are time travel laws, which prohibit consciousness travel too, but this is their son we’re talking about. There is no way they’re turning him in, even though there’s a strong possibility that they’re looking at an entirely different person who stole his body. He’s right that they’re going to have to learn to trust him, which is exactly what an impostor would say to protect his cover. It really would be nice if they could trust someone with the expertise to test him. As part of their regular checkups most people go in for yearly brain scans. This becomes optional as they age, but it’s mandatory for babies. Human minds change over time, which is why it’s advised to keep doing it periodically, whether you like it or not. But even with Silveon’s advanced age, may there be a way to definitively prove his connection to his infant scan? The problem is they can’t even inquire if that’s possible without revealing too much about the secret. They’re stuck...stuck in the uncertainty. Or maybe not.

“We’re going to have you tested,” Tinaya insists. “I don’t know if we’ll come to the right conclusion, but we’re going to take you to the Chief Medical Officer to try.”

“We can’t trust them. I don’t even remember who it is in this time period, because they did not factor into the plan. Only the four of us can know anything.”

“As Captain, I enjoy certain privileges that are not afforded to other crew members,” Tinaya begins. “I can erase the doctor’s memories once we receive the results, and I can order him to not pursue the investigation into his missing time. In case he does keep pushing it, I’ll have him record a consent video for himself.”

Silveon shakes his head. “It’s not that simple. Memory technology is fickle. Your aunt knew how problematic it can be.”

“This was years ago,” Arqut contends. “Science marches on. Your mother’s right, Silveon...if that even is your real name. We need help. I know you wanted to keep the circle tight, but whatever your mission is, we can’t even begin to let you move forward with your plans unless we have some reason to believe that you’re someone we should care about. If you’re really our son, you were either raised by us, or our most devoted family members, which means you’ll do what we’re asking of you now. We’re still your parents, no matter which one of us is the oldest. You will do as your told.”

“I miss your bluntness.” Silveon appears to be thinking it over. “Your words are wise, and your heart is pure. I agree to your terms, father.”

“And we’re not going on a vacation,” Tinaya adds. “If we can prove who you are, we will be able to take solace in that truth, even though we have missed the opportunity to raise our son from youngling to young man.”

“I do apologize for taking that from you,” Silveon laments. “I assure you, this was the only way. The future of the mission depends on what I do for the next 31 years.”

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Microstory 2007: Oregon

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In summer of 1987, papa was 14 years old, and about to start high school for the first time. But remember, this would be at the same school he was before, but it was still going to be different. His mother was a teacher, so she knew how important schooling was. She knew that it was going to be a lot harder for papa than it was in the lower grades. She wanted him to have one more experience as a kid, where he could have fun, and not worry about grades yet. She also wanted him to be away from his family, because she knew that he was going to have to go off to college when he got older, so he had to learn. She found a summer camp that went for a whole two months! I went to summer camp once, but it was only for two weeks. Papa only saw his parents twice while he was there, and his sister once. I remember him telling me that he had a lot of fun, but he was sad to be away from his family and friends for so very long. He made friends there, though, that he stayed friends with. They did a whole lot of things there, like swimming, horseback riding, and even archery. The camp was in Oregon, so it took them 9 hours to get there, which is why his family didn’t get to visit him very often. The place was called Antelope Reservoir Camp, and it doesn’t exist anymore, because the people who owned it ran out of money. I would have liked to see where my papa spent so much time, but maybe when I’m older, my dad will let me go to a place that’s like it.

Microstory 1742: Sea Serpent

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I don’t move at first. I have no idea whether you’re supposed to run away from a serpent, or stand still. Maybe she can’t see me if I stand still? I try to reach for my phone, but that seems to freak her out. She darts her head towards my hand, so I pull back. She relaxes a bit. I try to take one slow step backwards, but she doesn’t like that either. She seems to feel most comfortable with me where I am, and her where she is. I don’t get the impression that she plans on hurting me, but she considers any movement to be a sign of aggression. I notice something a little funny about her, since all I can do now is watch, and pray I don’t become the prey. I’m no serpent expert, obviously, but I’ve never seen one with such a flat tail. I can’t imagine that she can slither very well with that thing. Perhaps it’s meant to brush leaves and grass out of the way? No, that doesn’t make any sense. She’s already passed over any obstacle by then. Maybe it’s there to hide her tracks from predators. This sounds like a decent evolutionary advantage, though I would hardly call her worthy of being anyone’s meal. She perked up when I had to clear my throat. I doubt anything could sneak up on her, whether they were following tracks or not. I look around, careful to move my head as little as possible, and sniff the air. You know what, I think we’re pretty close to Danaid Inlet. Oh, that must be what that flat tail is for. She’s not a land serpent, but a sea serpent. That’s also probably why she’s so on edge, because she’s not close enough to water. I couldn’t say how long she can stay on land, so it could be indefinite. Or she’ll eventually die, and I’ll be able to walk away. No, I don’t want that. She’s not doing anything wrong. I want to save her.

I look up to get my bearings. I’m a little lost, but I know the direction of the ocean. The inlet is to the Northwest of here. Hoping the serpent doesn’t decide to just attack me on the spot, I move a little towards the water. She moves to match me. She doesn’t get closer, or farther away. I move more, she mirrors me again. I keep going, always keeping my eye on her as she follows. The trek is rough. I’m sure the trail will eventually get us there, but who knows how long that would take? I just want to get to the water as fast as possible so this girl can get back to her life. I’ll find my way home after that, once I’m finally safe. She continues to slither next to me as I’m trudging through the brush, and over the rocks. I would be embarrassed, but the serpent seems just as awkward on land as I am. Also, she’s an animal, so I don’t think she has the capacity to judge others. But what do I know? She appears to be following me to the inlet, like she knows she can trust me to lead her there. After a few hours, we’re on the beach. I did it. I can’t believe I actually did it. Now she can go off to where she belongs. She doesn’t move, though. She just sits there, staring at the water like she’s enjoying the beautiful view as much as I am. I step closer, she matches, just like she has been. I take a few more steps. She slithers again. I’m starting to think she thinks I’m her mother, and we’re supposed to go in together. All right, fine. I’m already cold and tired; how is getting wet gonna make things worse? I wade in, and she gleefully slithers in next to me. Only then does she seem to realize she knows how to take it from here. After a splash—which my headcanon has decided to categorize as a sea serpent’s way of saying thank you—she swims away. I step out of the water, and sit on the sand to watch the sunset. I fall asleep there, dreaming of serpentine friends. I awaken with a little unexpected new perspective.

Microstory 1564: Plantworld

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Prompt

Everyone thought that robots or aliens would take over the world, but no one considered the possibility that sentient plants would grow out of control.

Botner

That’s what this bizarre creature from Tokyo seems to be: a strolling rose that puts us to shame with its round-about conversation, longevity, and willingness to prostrate itself before unsuspecting passersby. The rose, a forget-me-not, started out life as a normal plant in the garden of Urayasu City’s Chuo Ward. Initially, it was a member of the quiet ground cover family, but a sudden surge of excitement occurred among the neighborhood’s residents after a rose began growing up and out of its pot. According to the plant’s owner, the guy who brought home the forget-me-not in the first place, the plant’s red flowers, which were not there before, are supposed to signify good luck. At this point, the standard human reaction would be to marvel at the skill of the plant’s operator, who has apparently decided to use its many complicated arms and legs to celebrate Japan’s 125th year of reign in the world’s foremost soccer league. However, the rose is showing some unpredictable behaviors.

Conclusion

It’s not begging to drink human blood, or inject poison into victims. All its doing is multiplying, so rapidly that it can’t be stopped. Scientists tried to find a way to kill it, but before they made any progress, everything changed. The forget-me-not started to impact the plantlife around it, effectively transforming everything else into an invasive species. The spores get on clothes, and fur, and spread around. Not only do new plants grow from this, but also command nearby plants to do the same. In a matter of weeks, the entire island is covered in plants and flowers. They adapt to grow out of the cracks in buildings, and up through the floors. They thrive in the sun, in arid land, and even in saltwater. In months, all of Asia has been overcome, and the rest of the world will surely follow suit. People start to cut back on the brush as much as possible, to carve out some small area of livable land, but it doesn’t last long. It all grows back. People don’t die off as much as other apocalyptic scenarios would predict. There’s plenty of food to eat now, and it’s possible to just live in the wild, using natural shelters, like trees. So it’s only civilization that falls, while the population itself continues. It’s not as interesting anymore, as any plant or vine will destroy any attempt to establish lines of communication, and it’s also lonely, but we continue. We continue in our little isolated pockets like this, and if anyone came up with a solution to the problem, it wouldn’t be a simple thing to get that information to others. My family and I just decide that this is how life on this planet is, and there’s no way of going back to the way it was before. Then everything changes again. I leave camp for my daily walk alone, and come across a plant I see all over the place. But this one is different. It starts to speak to me. It asks me who I am, and what my intentions are. Soon, all the plants around me are speaking. I run back to camp, and tell my family, but they don’t know what I’m talking about. Only I can communicate with them, and now...it’s my duty to do so.

Microstory 1553: Our Ages

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Prompt

There are so many things I would rather be doing than this. But my parents wanted me to come support my little brother, and I can't ever say no...

Botner

...I’m 17 years old, I’m going to be 18 at the end of this month. But I don’t think I can legally drink. Last year, at a younger age, my parents would’ve been okay with me doing it with my friends. But because I’m 17, I can’t even do that. I have my reasons...well...I’m 17, and I have sex. (Not much, but still) And I also have a baby-daddy. (I won’t put his name out here, but he’s on here. I just know that his name comes up, and my mother always reads this. Lol.) Anyway, he wants me to have sex, but he also doesn’t want it to be messy, so he wants to wait until we’re married. He’s 30. We are only 19. So my parents said that if he married me before we are able to have sex, I’ll go to a boarding school. I think this is wrong. I want to be in school. I want to be close to my friends. I don’t want to be forced to stay at home. I don’t want to be a kid and play with Barbies all day, and do my homework at night. I want to be a normal teenager, for once. I’m tired of being reminded that I’m not a normal teenager...because I am. And I want to be treated like one. But since I’m 17, I can’t. My parents said that if I have sex, I’m gonna get pregnant, and then I’m...

Conclusion

...in real trouble, because who knows what age I’ll end up after I have the baby? I keep switching between 17 and 19, and I never know how old I’ll be when I wake up. This is the life of our species, and we’re all quite used to it. Seventeen and 19 might not make much of a difference to you, but it is always very clear for us. When we look at each other, we can tell exactly how old the other is on that day. Babies are incredibly dangerous for us to have. There’s about a 24% chance that the process ages you up so that you’re near your deathbed. The chances double when you have twins. Guys don’t have to worry about this. My brother keeps aging too, and now he’s much older than me, but men live longer, and after several years of the process, eventually stop, so they can age normally, and die after a reasonable amount of time. This was done to use centuries ago, in order to control the rise in our population. The well-intentioned extremist aliens who did it to us, however, have either died out themselves, or left. This is why our respective ages are so erratic and unpredictable. My boyfriend is eight, which is so much younger than he should be, and waking up that young is very rare for us. Now he can’t be a father. We have an age of majority, just like your species does, and when that barrier is crossed, the dynamics of their relationships can shift dramatically. Your mother can fundamentally become your sister if she wakes up young enough, because it would be inappropriate for her to keep raising you. I have the baby, and things are good for about a week. I’m 40 while I’m doing it, and mature enough to handle it on my own, because my boyfriend is only ten. My brother helps, which he should, because I’ve always supported him. Things go bad, however, when I wake up the next day. I’m now a baby, and my child is 40, and she raises me, and this is how we stay for two centuries.

Microstory 1390: Growth

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Fiore Stern: Hello? Mr. Botany Professor?

Botany Professor: Yes, that’s me. Office hours begin in a half hour, but I think I can make an exception. Are you struggling with the cambium assignment? I can give you an extra day, if you need it.

Fiore Stern: No, sir. I’m actually not a student yet. I was hoping to interview you, so you can help me get accepted into the program.

Botany Professor: Well, Botany is part of a liberal arts and sciences degree. All you have to do is get into the school, and you can choose Botany as your major—if you’re really sure this is what you want to study, that is.

Fiore Stern: You don’t think you could give me an edge? Maybe write me a letter of recommendation?

Botany Professor: Not really. This is Hillside University. They let pretty much anyone in who’s graduated from high school. The failout rate is lower with that method than you might think, because our professors are really invested in student success. Once you’re accepted, and start classes, you can join the program, and I can become your advisor. But I doubt you’ll need help being accepted.

Fiore Stern: Well, the truth is, I’m a...I’m a felon. I got out of prison a few months ago, and I’m trying to get my life on track.

Botany Professor: I see.

Fiore Stern: I don’t even know if the college will accept me with all that.

Botany Professor: I believe this institution does have a way of doing that. You have to acknowledge it on your application, but then they’ll have you meet with some special advisor. That has nothing to do with me, though, so I’m not completely clear how it works.

Fiore Stern: Can I still ask you a few questions?

Botany Professor: Yeah, that should be fine. Students probably will start coming in fifteen minutes from now, though.

Fiore Stern: Okay. So. How would you define botany?

Botany Professor: Botany is the study of plants, and pretty much everything that goes with that. It’s about how they convert energy, and grow, and support the environment.

Fiore Stern: What is the difference between a plant, and a flower?

Botany Professor: Well, a flower is just one part of a plant. Not all plants have flowers, because they have different ways of reproducing and spreading, other than sexually.

Fiore Stern: I have heard that. Plants have sex?

Botany Professor: Flowering plants reproduce sexually, yes. The male will transfer its gametes to the female. We call that pollination. It’s not quite the same as the way animals do it, though.

Fiore Stern: Interesting. Do you teach plant toxicity? Will you teach your students to tell the difference between a poisonous plant, and one that’s safe to eat?

Botany Professor: That sort of specificity isn’t what we do in the undergraduate department. Poisonous plants do not all share a single trait you would be able to use to determine if it fits into the category. You just kind of have to know what’s good, and what to stay away from. As far as edibility goes, there’s something called the universal edibility test. It involves a long process of slowly interacting with the fruits, roots, or leaves, to find out whether it’s safe to eat. It takes a really long time, and we don’t teach that here, because we don’t expect our students to find themselves in a survival situation where such knowledge means life or death. It’s a liability issue too. I’m not even allowed to tell you how to learn about the test.

Fiore Stern: Well, let’s say someone does die, because they ate the wrong thing. If a decomposing body helps fertilize the soil, in the circle of life, will plants and flowers grow out of the dead body?

Botany Professor: Um. Well, no. A dead body is not an ideal environment for growth. Sure, a lot of nitrogen will be released into the soil, which may support any life growing around it, but the body itself doesn’t just isn’t fit for that. Why?

Fiore Stern: No reason. Thanks for talking to me. It’s been really helpful.

Botany Professor: Yeah...okay.

Microstory 1146: Orabela Vinci

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Orabela Vinci was one of the source mages on early Durus, and considered to be the most beautiful. Even as a child, people would rave about her physical appearance, and make claims that she would be a heartbreaker. They believed their remarks to be harmless and innocuous, but they were unproductive and irrelevant. They were ignoring her more important qualities, like the fact that she was a beautiful person. She saw the beauty in the world, even a lowly insect, and the good in others, including those who probably didn’t deserve it. As terrible of a leader as Smith was, he always recognized her potential as a contributing member of society, and completely ignored her physical characteristics. She knew that he wasn’t just born evil, but he saw the world they were trapped in for the dangerous powder-keg it was—monsters or no—and while he went about it in the worst ways, he legitimately wanted to protect his people. She was not much for leadership herself, and left those decisions to the other source mages after Smith disappeared. However, in retrospect, they probably would have benefited from a little more of her insight. She was relegated to being the face of the source mage movement; like a mascot with more agency. It was astonishing how much easier it was to get people to listen to them when their words were coming from Orabela’s aesthetically pleasing visage. When the group decided to seek the proverters, who had the power to make them grow up at an alarmingly fast rate, Orabela was the most vocal against it. She was already treated differently because of how she looked, and that was when she was only twelve years old. If the monsters made her look twenty-three, now people were going to be having inappropriate feelings for her, and that would make things worse. They wanted to age themselves up, so people would take them more seriously, but it would most likely have the opposite effect on her, and it would be artificial either way. The proverters were capable of manipulating the age of a target’s body, but could have no impact on their mind. So whether they accepted it or not, the source mages were all still twelve-year-old children, or even younger, in Valda’s case. Natural born protector, Ecrin Cabral had a huge problem with forcing people to do things they didn’t want to do, so she guarded Orabela from the others, and the proverters. She was able to escape this fate while the rest of her friends were magically turned into adults. Sure, this limited her influence on the society they were building, but she was still one of the source mages, and no one could take that away from her. She awarded her older friend, Ecrin with agelessness, as a gift for her bravery and loyalty. Ecrin was thusly one of the first humans to be granted temporal powers on Durus, and she didn’t even have to compete in the mage games to earn it. Of course, this would come with its own consequences, as she would forever be underestimated for her own young appearance, but she would still go on to do great things for the Mage Protectorate, and beyond. Orabela, meanwhile, remained grounded as their civilization grew. She continued to focus on its citizenry, and largely ignored her status among the elite. She would come to be cherished for her accessibility, even after the world fell into the phallocracy, and most women were treated as unequals.