Microstory 2767: Spread Your Wings and Fly Away

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A former Custodian from the Spydome Network is processing Elise’s upload to a new substrate. His equipment is unlike anything she has ever seen before. Before she died, she was in her tenth body. She usually chose to look about the same as she did before, only sometimes making a tweak or two. Telman says that she can look like anything. When she asks which design software they’re using, he claims that they’re not using any at all. She apparently decides what she wants in her head, and the bioprinter converts it into DNA. She has a hard time believing this, because while brain-computer interfaces are old hat, what he’s describing is a whole different animal. Her brain is not capable of consolidating every single detail. She can only ever conceive of a general idea.

Telman assures her that it will work. The machine doesn’t need her to know exactly what she wants. She just has to have the finished product in mind. The way she sees it, she’s living on borrowed time anyway. They were told that if they died during the hunt, their backup bodies would be reactivated on their behalf, having never received any recent updates. So despite her disbelief, she follows through with the plan. She doesn’t have any hands, she kind of has to let people do whatever they want anyway. She watches as Telman locks her head into the mechanism, and shuts her down.

It’s the reawakening redux, though the process is faster this time. Instead of a pinprick, her consciousness returns just about all at once. She remembers everything leading up to the upload, including the gaps in her memory from before the decapitation. The first thing she does is wiggle her toes. It’s not easy, but that’s because her movement is limited, not because there’s something wrong, or because she doesn’t have any toes. Her memory focuses on one thing, which happened at the beginning of this. She’s in another chrysalis. She wriggles her whole body now, trying to look for down, like she did last time. It feels different, though. It feels...softer, more stringy.

She doesn’t vomit like she did before. She doesn’t feel like she has to. She’s stronger now. Without hardly doing anything, she feels stronger than she ever has her whole life. That’s one thing she shied away from before. Superstrength is a pretty easy characteristic to give a new body, but she never went overboard. It didn’t seem necessary. It could have been really useful centuries ago, but life just isn’t that hard anymore. That’s why they built Castlebourne in the first place, to simulate struggle.

This isn’t much of a struggle. She pulls the fibers apart, but she doesn’t slip out onto her head. She rotates her whole body so she can gently lower herself feet first. She deftly lands on the floor. It’s less gooey than the chrysalis, which may or may not make sense. Looking at it here from the outside, she decides it’s more like a cocoon.

“Oh my God, what is that?” It’s Rage’s voice behind Elise.

Elise turns. As she does, her back and shoulders move in a way that she’s not used to. They’re stiff, a little sore, but not something she won’t get past eventually. Wait, no that’s not it. It’s so much more than that. There is something hanging off of her back. What is that? What the hell is that? “What the hell is that?” She spins, trying to see it.

“Here, there’s a mirror,” Colley explains. He cautiously takes her by both hands.

Elise looks at herself straight on. Her breasts are larger now, but that’s about all that’s changed. Oh, and also her skin is a totally different color, and she has wings!

“That is quite the change,” Zelda points out. “How does it feel?”

Elise turns to see herself in profile. She shrugs her shoulders one after the other and back again until she understands which new muscles she needs to work. The wings extend farther than she thought they would. She has to step away from the wall to open them both. Like her skin, they’re a beautiful cool green and fuzzy. She admires herself, which is not like her, then looks over at the cocoon. “I’m a moth.”

“You’re the Ladymoth,” Minotaur says. “That’s what you said before.”

Hrockas, Azad, and Telman are standing off away from the group. Telman clears his throat. “I hope you’re pleased. If you’re not, that’s why this technology has not yet been made public. People are complex. They may not know what they want.”

“Oh, I want,” Elise says. She giggles as she flaps her wings lightly. She looks around and finds a door near the opposite corner. “Will that take me outside?”

“You want to fly?” Telman guesses. “Already?”

“Maybe you should take a moment to get used to basic movements,” Hrockas suggests. “You wouldn’t want to overdo it. The way the tech works, you are still not streaming anywhere, and we did not save a recent backup of you. If you fall out of the sky and perish, you won’t remember any of this.”

“Thank you for your concern,” Elise says to him. “Door, please.”

Hrockas sighs. “I understand. But before you go launching yourself off the ground, let’s travel to the nearest body of water, so you have a softer place below you.”

Elise accepts his suggestion. It’s not a bad idea for her to learn to walk around with all this mass first. Her body is definitely strong enough to manage it, but it’s teetering a little bit as she gets used to weight distribution. Some of them walk on ahead while others take up the rear. She’s walking beside Miracle for obvious reasons. “Did you use the cocoon to make your wings, or standard accelerated cloning?”

“I used bioprinting,” Miracle explains, “but I don’t have access to this. It’s next level. I hope you know how lucky you are. They use it on the Tangent, but it’s incredibly rare, and most of those people have no imagination. You did quite well.”

Elise flutters her wings a bit, but it’s awkward. She needs practice. “You like it?”

“I’m so jealous,” Miracle replies. “You have an amazing body.”

“Maybe I’ll give you a ride, if I’m capable. Moths are strong in some ways, but not in others. I may be quite fragile. We’ll just have to see.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Miracle insists. “I’ll get my wings back soon enough. I did want to ask, though, why a Luna moth?”

“Okay, we’re here,” Hrockas announces. “Get ready to save her, Azad.”

As everyone is spreading out to watch, Azad checks for threats.

Elise gets into position and prepares herself mentally. She takes a deep breath before looking over at her friend. “Miracle. You asked me why a Luna moth. Because when they fly, they look like this.” She leaps into the air and flaps her wings. She’s not awkward anymore. Her wings are completely in sync, and her navigation is on point. Wherever she wants to go, her body goes. She glides gracefully up, down, and all around. Now Elise understands why Miracle chose it, and she wonders why there aren’t more. There are flying humanoids on Altair, but it should be widespread. This feels like the natural progression of the human experience. She wishes she could share it. She wishes all of her friends could be moths, or have any wings of their own.

Elise flies higher and higher, several kilometers in the air. And then she falls.

The Advancement of Mateo Matic: September 27, 2571

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When Mateo returned to the timeline the next year, his little ship was sitting on Earth’s moon. It was absolutely not unheard of for an unmanned vessel to show up like that, so no one questioned it. They would have scanned it for threats, then left it alone on the dock. It was particularly believable since it came from Varkas Reflex, where a lot of people no longer had physical bodies. Even if it was from elsewhere, some people lived exactly like that, in their ship’s core memory, with no physical body. He fit right in.

Mateo teleported out of the vessel, and to the middle of space, where he continued to teleport until he was back on Earth, hopefully having never been detected by any sensors. He was now where Topeka once stood. Through the dense canopy of the forest, the nearest arcology rose into the sky. Instead of teleporting there too, he decided to go the rest of the way on foot. Once he passed through the treeline, he saw that there was something different about it. It was much smaller than a normal megastructure. Giant cranebots were either assembling it or disassembling it. No, they were definitely disassembling it. He looked around for someone to query about this, but saw no one.

He jumped to Kansas City instead, where he found a normal tripod, still standing at full attention in the woods. It felt different, though. He couldn’t explain it. It was sort of quieter, maybe? He walked inside, and up to the information kiosk. “Hello. I was just in Topeka, but before that, I was off-world for centuries. They were taking one of the arcologies apart. What can you tell me about that?”

The man smiled, and it did look like an organic man, but there was no way to know these days without asking, which might have been rude. “The global population is decreasing. If you have returned to the homeworld for a permanent stay, you are in the minority. People are leaving. Many are going to Varkas Reflex, still more to Castlebourne. Others go to Gatewood to start their own colonies wherever.”

“And are we happy about this, or sad?” Mateo pressed.

“A bit of both, the informer replied. “It’s the end of an era. Earth was once all there was, of course. Are you old enough to remember that?”

“Vividly,” Mateo answered. “I was born in 1986.”

“Ah. I was born in 1985. Respect your elder, son,” he joked. “Well, it’s bittersweet, but many look back and see this as inevitable. Once we decided to rewild our lands, there was no stopping it. What relative few buildings are left take up space where wildlife cannot grow. The footprint is small, but not zero. Each one taken down adds a slight amount of life back into the world. Pushing those boundaries is an enticing proposition. What if we removed all human presence? What if we returned Earth to the way it was millions of years ago? We’re not specifically trying to go that extreme, but again, a lot of people think it’s trending towards that, whether we like it or not. We still boast the greatest population in the galaxy, but we may not be able to say that forever.”

Mateo looked around the atrium. “It will become a museum. Your population will never reach zero. The lower it goes, the more people will want to come here to see such a low-populated Earth. Which will defeat the purpose, so they’ll leave. Back and forth.”

The informer smiled again. “Like Gaia breathing.”

“Like Gaia breathing,” Mateo echoed in agreement.

“Matt!” he heard Leona’s voice call up to him from behind.

He turned around. “Hello, love. Sorry I had to go.”

Leona caught up to him. “It’s not just you. Romana is leaving too.”

Mateo nodded solemnly. “I thought she might. Is she here too?”

“I’m not even here. I projected my hologram from home. You need to come back.”

“I can’t go alone,” Mateo reasoned. “I only have one, uhh...” He realized the informer was listening to them, so he couldn’t finish that sentence.

Leona nodded. “Rambo had trouble tracking you, so we sent out a remote search party, which led us to VR, which led us to Loa, who told us where you went, so we started another search for you on Earth. Now here I am. Three of us will come get you.”

“Thanks. I love you, and I’m sorry.” He turned back. “Thank you too.”

The informer gently shut his eyes and nodded his head respectfully.

Mateo went outside to a secluded part of the woods. Marie, Olimpia, and Ramses appeared hours later, but not through a sling portal. They simply materialized, which suggested that they went somewhere else first. He chose not to ask about it, in case they were mad. He synced his slingdrive with theirs, and they all went back to Ramosus.

Romana had gathered everyone in the lab already, so they stepped out of the slingdrive chamber, and took a seat with the others. Well, Mateo stayed standing.

“I spoke with Loa,” Romana began. “I know where Boyd is.”

“Did you try to reconnect with him?” Mateo asked her.

“No. She would not have let me, and I probably shouldn’t,” Romana went on. “I’m not going to apologize or tell you that I regret what I did. Perhaps one day I will, but not today, and not here. I have to leave. There are too many hard feelings right now. Things spiraled quickly, and I definitely regret that at least. We were a team, and I put that all at risk. Don’t...interrupt, please. That’s how I feel, and I don’t think I can get better around you. If I try to stay and repair things now, I fear it will only be duct tape.

“The distance is what will bring us back. Distance in space, and in time. I will be back. I don’t know when, but I don’t wanna leave you forever, and I need you to believe that, because it’s true. I’m angry and hurt, but not bitter. Some of the blame belongs to you, some to our various opponents, and of course, I’m responsible for a great deal of it.”

“Where will you go?” Mateo asked. “Sorry if you’ve already answered that.”

“Earth, actually. When Ramses was there, he installed a forge core at an undisclosed location, which will generate a mirror slinglab for us. This will allow anyone to go back and forth without having to be in an array. But I won’t be sticking around the lab. I may not even stay on Earth for very long, and I don’t want any of you to follow. I don’t want you to try to convince me to come home, or even just look out for me. I want to be alone. I have to be alone. I hope you understand, especially you, dad.”

Mateo nodded. He obviously understood why she couldn’t stay here after all this. When she said she would be back, she probably meant it, but would she still feel the same way tomorrow? A week from now? Years into the future? Was this the last time they would see her? “I won’t argue or stop you, I really won’t. You can’t ghost us, though. We need to know that you’re okay. You don’t have to check in every single day—that would be way too much—but we do need proof of life, periodically. Can you do that?”

Romana smiled sadly and nodded. “I can do that. Maybe once a week.”

“Thank you,” Mateo said graciously. “If you need a ship, I left one on the moon.” He handed her his dock token. “I love you. If you can’t say that back right—”

“I love you,” Romana interrupted. “I love all of you. We’ll get through this. I promise.” After hugging them one by one, she stepped into the slingdrive chamber and nodded at Ramses. Once he finished tapping on his console, she disappeared.

“Did you tag her as we discussed,” Leona asked, “so we can always find her?”

Ramses took a very long time to respond. “No.”

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Spaghetti West: Moonfall (Part I)

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Decades ago, a star called Proxima Centauri underwent a cataclysmic magnetic shift, which created a coronal mass ejection that decimated the orbiting planet of Proxima Doma. Proxima Doma was tidally locked, which meant one side always faced the sun, and one side always faced away. Only a narrow band was ever habitable, but as it turned out, not for long. What researchers now believed was that this event was the culmination of a centuries-long cycle. Over time, the habitable zone along the terminator line will stabilize, and become survivable once more. It had already begun to do that. There was still no atmosphere, so it required intelligent intervention, and for some, this was enough, but not for most. They wanted something permanently safe.

While the cycle was meaningfully long for a baseline human, it was a flash in the pan for an immortal, and unsustainable for a community. Why put down roots when you knew they were going to be destroyed eventually? People died in that tragedy. Many stayed on the poles, which were the only permanently safe regions, but this made space commutes unreasonably costly. So the majority of the survivors left.

They went all over the stellar neighborhood, but the primary destination was the Gatewood Collective. Gatewood was a materials depot, which was designated to provide colonists with the resources they needed to go wherever their final destination was. No one was meant to live there who didn’t work as the managers of the depot. One faction from Proxima Doma wasn’t happy with that. They wanted to stay, so they tried to lay claim to one of the extremely inhospitable planets. These were more stable and consistent than Doma, but still harsh. And anyway, they were about to be annihilated.

After some political turmoil, the captain of a transport vessel agreed to relocate these holdouts to another planet. They wanted one to call their own, but if they didn’t want to die, they would compromise for their own secluded region of a preexisting colony. This one orbited Tau Ceti, and was called Thālith al Naʽāmāt Bida. It wasn’t the only planet in the system, but it was the only habitable one, and that was thanks to a particularly uninhabited world called Qishra.

Sugar Delgado stood on the bridge of her ship with the Axiom of Astronomy, Liselot Olteanu. They were regarding a terrible sight through the viewscreen. “Magnify more,” Sugar instructs the computer.

That was definitely a moon, and it was definitely far too close to the planet.

“Not to blame or criticize,” Sugar went on, “but you didn’t see it coming?”

“Qishra orbits the star slowly, and the moon is moving fast. For the majority of the time, the moon was behind the planet. Even if we had seen it coming, there still isn’t anything we could have done about it. Some researchers think that it’ll be a near-miss.”

“You don’t,” Sugar stated.

Liselot held both of her fists up and presented a crude demonstration. “If Qishra were the eightball, and the moon was the cueball, yes, the geometry says it would miss.”

Sugar nodded. “But the Roche limit.”

“The Roche limit,” Liselot echoed. “You have to account for the gravity. The two bodies are being drawn together, and they will crash into each other. Now, it’s not a Theia event, but it will be enough to cause chaos. We can’t model what will happen to the planet once the rogue moon strikes. The most widely accepted model has the majority of the moon being ejected from the system while Qishra begins to form a ring.”

“But it won’t stop there,” Sugar deduced.

“The collision will add mass to the planet, which will only help it do its job to protect us, but over time, the chaos will increase, and it could start to shoot us.”

“But you don’t know.” Sugar wasn’t arguing, Not knowing was the scary part, because, given their technology, there was nothing they could do to protect themselves besides leave. And that will be logistically difficult, even if the first impact took months.

This world was a haven for those who wanted to live on a planet, but still wanted the simple, isolated life. There was only one city, mainly for coming and going. Nearly everyone lived in villages or homesteads. Some areas had such perfect weather that they didn’t even have permanent structures. A nomad might walk around with their tech and a tent, and that was it. People moved here because they liked to be alone with nature.

“No, we don’t know. It could take years, or it could take decades, but either way, I would not want to live here if I were a Domanian refugee,” Liselot reasoned.

Sugar shook her head. “You don’t know these people. They were fully cognizant that their new planet, Doma Tertia, was going to intentionally be destroyed, but they refused to leave. We only finally got them off of it because they are fiercely loyal to their leader, so we only had to convince him to stop being stubborn and stupid.”

“Then tell him to tell the others to get right back on your ship and leave here too.”

Sugar sighed. “He’s not here. He persuaded them to leave, but had somewhere else to go. Now they can only operate on his most recent orders. It’s bizarre.”

“For a group of isolationists, they sure are dependent,” Liselot pointed out. “Sorry to be blunt about that.”

“No, you’re right. I don’t like them, I just got stuck with them,” Sugar explained.

“Some Bidans have packed up and left because of this threat,” Liselot added. “I mean, our population was already dwindling because people want to check out Castlebourne, or because they’re choosing Varkas Reflex over VR around nature. Some, however, report being afraid of Armageddon. It’s my job to give them the facts, and the fact is that we don’t have enough information yet, and once we do, it may be too late.”

“You called it a rogue moon,” Sugar pointed out. “Which planet is it from?”

Liselot smiled. She was actually rather excited about this. “We think it’s from Qishra. We think the planet ejected it millions of years ago, and it’s been rogue ever since, wandering the outer system this whole time. Which means it’s—”

“Coming home,” they said simultaneously. Then they were silent for a moment.

“I hope you weren’t thinking that we could help with evacuation efforts,” Sugar said, breaking the ice. This was a transport vessel, but it didn’t have unlimited capacity. Well, that wasn’t exactly true. With enough power, they could expand inward into pocket dimensions. But it could still not support the whole population of this planet, and none of them was authorized to know about that kind of tech in the first place.

“No,” Liselot assured her. “We may prefer nature, but the reason the city exists, and why my job exists, is because we understand that the universe is a dangerous place. Most who do want to leave are transferring their consciousnesses through the quantum network. We’re building deep underground shelters for those who want to stay, and constructing exodus ships for those who wanna leave in their own bodies with their own possessions. What we were hoping was that you could prevent the chaotic ejections that will follow. New ring systems are violent and unpredictable. With your weapons—”

“I don’t have any weapons,” Sugar argued.

“Forgive me, captain,” Liselot said. “Our sensors clearly indicate one.”

Sugar painted a puzzled look on her face. “Oh, that’s a hot pocket purge.”

“I’m sorry?” Now Liselot was the one who was confused.

“It’s a stealth feature,” Sugar began to explain. “You store your waste heat in a special contained environment, then you can purge it all at once when you’re, say, on the other side of a star, or something. You’re practically invisible in between purges.”

“That sounds like it could be used as a weapon,” Liselot contended.

“Yeah, but not for what you’re asking,” Sugar insisted. “It’s not anywhere near as powerful as the kind of nuclear bombs you would require. It can’t hold enough energy to accomplish that. I’m sorry. If I had realized your intentions, I wouldn’t have wasted—”

“No, it’s my fault. I listened to what my experts said they detected on your ship.” Liselot frowns and breathes through her nose. “Thank you. I’ll leave now.”

“Hold on,” Sugar said. “It will take months for the ring to form and become a real threat. Just because I don’t have what you need, doesn’t mean I can’t build it. At the very least, you need to construct orbital defense platforms with ablation lasers. Earth has been using those for centuries, and it’s worked out for them.”

“Earth has never faced the kind of onslaught we could have on our hands,” Liselot said. “Jupiter has always been stronger than Qishra. That’s why intelligent life was able to evolve on it in the first place. And their monitoring infrastructure is leagues beyond ours simply by its age. We knew what we were getting into when we colonized. Tau Ceti is a volatile system. This should come as no surprise. We were foolish.”

“Still,” Sugar urged, “you need ablation lasers, don’t you?”

“Yeah, I suppose you’re right. I just don’t know that we have time.”

Sugar smirked. “Well...we store time in the stern.”

“Huh?” Liselot questioned.

Sugar had already said too much. “I have the design for an excellent defense platform in my privilege vault. It’s got a lot of bells and whistles that you don’t need right now, so I’ll take a day to modify it. All I’ll need are the raw materials.”

Liselot held a minute to think about it. “We’ll accept anything we can get.”

“Great.” Sugar tapped behind her ear. “Van. Come to the bridge please.”

Van teleported there instantly.

“Whoa. How did you do that?” Liselot asked him.

“Uh, he’s only a hologram,” Sugar lied. “Van, I need you to be able to make physical contact, so please turn off your imager and come back in person.”

“Sorry, boss.” Vantu disappeared.

“I could have sworn that I could feel his physical presence,” Liselot claimed. “Maybe even the warmth of his core.”

“Magnets!” Sugar joked.

Liselot breathed deeply and looked back over at the impending collision. “You really think we can do this? I know we don’t have to worry about something happening tomorrow, but we’re intentionally obsolete. We should have made the city bigger.”

Sugar watched the event too. “I can do this. Trust me, it’s no big deal.”

It was a big deal. The moon itself was nothing, but it turned out to be hiding something much, much worse. No laser could destroy a black hole. But it could move it.

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Microstory 2757: Point of No Return

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Jolanda tries to walk out the door into the empty city, but Rage warns her off, saying that something is still wrong. They must have assembled the puzzle incorrectly. Perhaps it poisoned them and caused them all to lose time, or there’s just something weird going on that none of them can explain.

“I can explain it,” Miracle says as she walks right outside. “We are in a Facsimile.”

“I don’t know what that means.” Rage is in the doorway to protect everyone else.

Miracle rolls her eyes, and waves her arms like she’s parting the Red Sea. “Would you please? I need everyone to see and hear me.” She sighs. “I didn’t know we would encounter time travel on this journey. I thought it was possible, but I guess I gave Hrockas too much credit. I don’t have the time or bandwidth to explain everything, so let’s just go over the basics. Has anyone seen an old show called Stranger Things?”

A few people raise their hands, including Colley.

“There’s an evil world in that show that looks just like ours, except there aren’t any people in it, and it’s horrific. There are all sorts of vines and mold covering everything, and toxic particles float around all the time. Spoiler alert, what they eventually discover is that this copy of the world was created on a particular day in the past, like a snapshot of a single moment. That is basically what this is, but without the horror overtones. Well...there was that one time when zombies and other monsters were fabricated here in secret so they could be let loose on the populace—”

“I remember that,” Zelda jumps in. “I was trying to relax in Mildome when a serial killer from Bloodbourne suddenly attacked. They weren’t too hard to kill, though.”

They all look at her like she’s crazy.

“What? I don’t only spend my time in Adrenadome. I like bees and butterflies.”

“Well,” Miracle continues, “now you know, this is where they came from. I can’t tell you not to worry about lingering monsters, but let’s hope not. The person who controlled them no longer has control over this place. He was sent away. We actually fought alongside each other against a bigger threat, but he never returned. I’m just trying to give you an idea of where we are, and what we’ll find. Any questions so far?”

“Yeah.” Rage raises her hand. “What the hell are you talking about?”

Miracle sighs again. “Hrockas can force me into any substrate he wants, but he can’t stop me from using my powers. Those are based on my neurology, so he would have to kill me to get rid of them.” She squares her shoulders and makes sure that everyone is watching. She disappears, simultaneously reappearing on the ground a few meters away. She screams in agony as she holds her head. “Ah, you son of a bitch, what did you do?” More screaming.

A gargantuan holographic screen resolves in the sky. It’s Hrockas again. “Nuh-uh-uh. No time powers. You think I didn’t plan for that? This world is littered with temporal suppression fields. Good luck turning them all off.” He blinks away.

Elise helps Miracle back to her feet. “Don’t do that again. We get the idea.”

“I’m still not sure I believe it,” Rage reasons. “I can think of four major explanations off the top of my head for what she just did.”

“I have seen people do what she just did before,” Jolanda admits. “I was born on Proxima Doma. Before you ask, I wasn’t on the surface or in low-orbit when it was destroyed, but I did become a refugee. They ferried us to Gatewood where we could choose our final destinations for free. I ultimately opted to transmit my consciousness here, but not before I witnessed a riot that had to be quelled by a bunch of teleporting cops. I don’t think they were faking it. What would have been the point?”

“I’m sorry you went through that.” Minotaur gives Jolanda a hug from the side.

Miracle nods. “The faster-than-light technology some ships use now? Researchers didn’t simply finally figure it out. People like me gave it to them. They had this big meeting in the year 2400 with the, uhh...sort of council. I had nothing to do with it because I’m not on the Shortlist, but there’s a very low chance that your life has not been impacted directly by a time traveler one way or the other, for good or bad.

“Miss Shin, if you were a refugee, you probably spent some time on The Tangent, or at least you saw it. Their artificial gravity was a gift from that council. Hrockas has a number of friends with powers and patterns. A team of them was instrumental in making Castlebourne what it is today, and he continues to employ others. For the most part, they try to keep the tech more conventional, but there are some things normal physics can’t handle.” She gestures at the world around them. “This is proof of that. I’m betting they keep it up and running just in case they ever need it, for times like these.”

“So, what are we facing?” Zelda asks Miracle. “How dangerous is this tech?”

“You’re not actually listening to her,” Rage complains. “We can’t trust her.”

“I’m not trying to be your leader,” Miracle defends. “I’m only giving you the facts. What are we facing? No way to know, but throw your rule book out the window, because it no longer applies. Time travel is a very loose term, and a misnomer. Many who can manipulate spacetime don’t simply move forwards or backwards. Some can turn invisible by basically showing you what’s behind them instead of them. Some can duplicate themselves by pulling from microrealities. Hrockas may only be using this dimension to separate us from gen pop, but he also might be planning to throw temporal obstacles at us. Rage, you can listen to me or not, but if it’s that second option, I have an incredibly unfair advantage, because I’ve seen this stuff before.”

A deafening silence falls, making this city even more a liminal space than it was when they first set foot out here. Miracle could be wrong. The people they saw before might have been volumetric images. Or the dome they were in simply spun around to the other side, which was made to be a replica of this, but never populated. There are other explanations for what happened to them, but on the off-chance that Miracle isn’t mistaken or lying, they have to pay attention to her. Trust, but verify.

Elise stands over by her friend. “Rage is the leader. That’s not changing. Miracle, let’s call you the advisor.” She gestures to her main teammates. “We’ve been working together for weeks, and we know what each other has to offer. We’ve settled into our respective roles, so that can be yours. But until further notice, we must all be in an alliance together. Do you disagree, Miss Brighton?”

Miracle smiles. “I do not. Like I said, I don’t wanna lead. Advisor feels right.”

“Rage?” Elise asks, hoping that the tensions don’t escalate.

“Very well,” Rage decides. “I’ll listen to you, Miracle, but I promise nothing regarding my actions. If I want to make a different call, that’s what I’ll do.”

“Sounds good.” Miracle turns around. “Now. First thing we need to do is check for—” She takes a step forward, and suddenly disappears. A few seconds later, they hear her screaming from the heavens, right before she splats on the ground. “...Time mines.”

Microstory 2755: Please Don’t Hold the Handrail

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Two of Miracle’s guys don’t hesitate for a second. As soon as that door cracks, they’re running right for it. They evidently have no loyalty to their teams. Elise doesn’t know how long they’ve been training together, but she’s not finding it so easy to leave them behind. She didn’t even always want to do this. The only reason she agreed is because of the team. If they’re going to take that from her, what reason does she have to go on? She’ll have to think about this first, and ignore that door in the meantime.

Minotaur jumps out of their seat too. They only manage to intercept the second guy, body-checking him against the wall as the first one slips over the edge right on the other side of the door and plummets to his death. Minotaur stands up and catches their breath. They’re not used to an analog body either. “You’re welcome.”

Miracle stands from her own seat and casually walks towards the lethal exit. She stands before her former teammate as he’s catching his breath too. She slaps him hard.

“I’m sorry, boss. You just talked so much about the prize. He and I started coming up with what it could possibly be. We think it’s unlimited energy credits. We could go anywhere. We could do anything. You know what, I’m not sorry,” he goes on as Miracle spins around and places her back to him. “What did you expect, pulling me out of Bloodbourne like you did? Running for my survival is what I do best. That’s why you—”

Since she turned around, Miracle has been mocking him with her facial expressions, and by mimicking mouth movements with her hand. She suddenly donkey kicks him in the chest, sending him over the edge to fall to his death too. She takes a deep breath, and half a step forward. “Does anyone in this room need me to define the word alliance for you, or are you at least slightly smarter than a panda bear?”

Rage calmly stands now, in just the same way Miracle did before. She approaches her slowly before suddenly jamming her forearm against Miracle’s clavicle and pinning her to the monitor, cracking it. “I know what an alliance is, but I don’t work with killers. You stay out of our way, and we’ll leave you alone too, but if you ever treat any one of my people like you did your own friend, you will wish you had jumped out too. Savvy?”

“Savvy?” Miracle echoes in an accent. “Are ya lost, love? This isn’t Piratedome.”

“Do. You. Understand me?” Rage reiterates, squeezing her chest even harder.

“Ooo, buy me dinner first, and I’ll understand whatever you say, Mistress.”

Rage angrily lets go and turns away from Miracle. She has spoken about this with the team before. It is absolutely crucial for her to temper her anger so her nickname remains firmly ironic, rather than simply not technically accurate. She centers herself with her eyes closed for a moment. “Zel, you’re up. Remember, they know what we’ve done. The tricks you used last time probably won’t work in this place.”

Zelda gets out of her seat and picks the sconce that Elise used to free her up from the floor. “I need silence,” she announces before she drops it into the pit. “Fifty meters.”

“I’m not so sure about that,” Elise determines. There was something wrong about the way the sconce sounded compared to the way the men did. Their shouts actually didn’t sound right from the start, but she initially shrugged it off because she doesn’t know the acoustics of this room, or the pit. Now she suspects they’re vastly different than they appear to be. The void before them might not exist at all.

Elise takes her shirt back off, and uses it as a glove to remove a shard from the monitor that Rage broke. She sets it on the floor, reflective side up. She then gently nudges it towards the blackness to get it in the right place. Once it’s partway into the dark, she pays especially close attention to the way the light bounces off of it at the threshold. She bends down and starts to retie her shoes while she speaks. “A few years ago, I took a course on volumetric emitter placement. These days, an AI will decide where to place them for optimal image projection, so it’s become a lost art, but designers, architects, and engineers used to have to plan it carefully.

“Which of you has seen the movie Thunderbolts*?” Elise asks the whole group.

Colley raises his hand. “It’s a perfect example of combatting historical superhero fatigue in the early to mid-21st century media by actually lowering stakes.”

“Remember the elevator scene?” Elise presses.

“You don’t mean...” Colley begins.

“I need you,” Elise encourages. “You’re the only one who doesn’t need me to say it out loud, which might skew the results for us. Get over here, we’ll be fine.”

Colley walks over to join Elise. “Up or down?” he asks, sighing.

“Sideways,” Elise answers him. She turns him around then turns around too so they’re back to back. “Leading foot is one, trailing foot is two. Ready...one.”

Colley plants his left foot against the wall while Elise plants her right one.

“Now two.” They both step fully off the ground, holding themselves up by applying pressure to the walls with their feet, and each other’s backs. They begin to chimney walk through the darkness. One of them always makes sure their leading foot has something to press up against before the other tries their side. They could always end up with a wider hallway, or some sort of opening that completely destroys their plan, at which point they would have to go back. They can see nothing in this void.

They don’t end up having to go too terribly far, though. After only a couple of meters, they are out of the holographic void, and into the hallway on the other side. A people mover is running at incredible—and incredibly unsafe—speed below them. That’s what it was. The men who were sent over the edge merely fell on this, and they cried bloody murder because they were being suddenly dragged away into the unknown after believing that they were gonna fall to their deaths. This doesn’t explain the sconce, and it doesn’t explain why their friends aren’t responding to their shouts now.

“We’re gonna have to go back,” Colley determines when they give up.

He’s right. The belt is moving far too fast for their puny human legs to carry them the wrong direction to explain it to the others. If they don’t chimney walk back, their friends will assume that they fell to their deaths too. They prepare themselves mentally, call upon a second wind, and make the hard return journey to the chrysalis chamber.

Once they reappear from the void, Jolanda and Minotaur help them get off the walls safely so Elise and Colley can explain the situation. Rage then conceives the plan.

Elise should feel tired, but she’s wired, so she volunteers to be on carrying duty. She and Zelda hold each hunter by the shirt and pants, low to the ground. They toss them into the void from that position, allowing them to fall onto the belt with a far lower center of gravity. It isn’t painless, but those first two guys probably had it much worse.

Finally, only the two of them are left. “How do you wanna do this?” Elise asks.

“I’m strong enough.” Zelda picks Elise up and drops her onto the belt on her own.

As Elise is flying down the hallways on her ass, she looks back to see Zelda surfing on it like a pro. What a total badass. Elise may be falling in love.

Microstory 2739: Nobody Exists on Purpose

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Pribadium’s friends once compared her to Rick Sanchez. She is not as cartoonish as he is, and she doesn’t break any laws of logic, like building a robot in a couple seconds with a screwdriver just to pass the butter. She does, however, frequently invent things just because the ideas are floating in her head, and she has to get them out. Or rather, she did. She has not developed anything significant in years, so she’s a little rusty.

Humanity is nowhere near the end of science, but they have pretty much solved every problem. Primary drivers are moderate performance improvements, scale, distribution and access, and most importantly, efficiency. The most pressing issue facing the universe right now is figuring out how to perform the most complex calculations using the least amount of energy. It’s profoundly important, and will only become more so further down the timeline as entropy progresses, but it’s certainly not fun, especially not for her. She pivoted to Administration and Operations because it was a challenge.

Now she has to go back to her old self to understand who this self-proclaimed embodiment of the population of this universe is. But if she’s gonna do it, she’s gonna do it her way, and her way...is not the normal way. Instead of trying to recall the procedural memory that she has lost over time, all she has to do is call forth a younger version of her who still has the required skills. She playfully calls it instantiating her panda.

“Why do you call it that?” Sora questions as he’s watching her prepare.

“Inside joke,” Pribadium explains as she checks the imaging chamber’s integrity.

“So you’re going to contact yourself from another time? Isn’t that dangerous?”

“It would be, if that were it,” Pribadium begins. “Any time travel risks irreparably throwing off our current conditional state. This is more like a revision history.”

Sora nods. “So you’re still trying to do the mobile command center thing.”

Pribadium stops working for a moment. Though everything has changed about their circumstances, nothing has changed about their objectives. Well, at least not Pribadium’s goals. She still wants to separate this pocket of the universe, and she still wants to travel the bulk with it. “I can’t think of anything more important than that right now. Understanding that amalgam in the other room is only in service to that end.”

“I see,” Sora says. “Well, I’ll leave you to it, then.”

“Oh, you’re not going anywhere, mister.” Pribadium is still not looking at him, in favor of focusing on the work. “You stole my tech and abused it. Don’t think I forgot about that. I don’t know if it led to what happened with the Stonehenge model, but that’s exactly why you’ll have to be tested too.” Now she looks at him like a shushy librarian. “You placed this whole lab at risk, not to mention the universe. I forgive you on a personal level, but you may yet pose a risk, so you’re next on the list.”

“Okay,” Sora agrees with his tail between his legs. He sits down on the bench.

Pribadium is ready. She boots up the machine, and waits for a previously saved state to appear in the form of a hologram that both of them can see and hear.

Pribadium!Zero’s image slowly renders at first before completing in a blink. She looks around to orient herself before looking at Pribadium!One. “Whassuuuuuuup!!!!!!!”

“Aren’t they supposed to say, report in these situations?” Sora questions.

“I was an ornery little bitch.” Pribadium looks at her self. “Listen up, Egg. I got some work to do, and I need your brain to do it.”

“Fuck you, Chicken.”

The Advancement of Mateo Matic: September 16, 2560

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The team decided to leave before midnight central so they wouldn’t have to explain their end-of-the-day disappearance. They were determined to hunker down and really figure out who in this galaxy might actually need their help. The larger colonies could have huge problems, but the infrastructure and procedures to deal with them. The single-person sites were harder to pinpoint, and populated by people who were typically there because they wanted to be alone. It was the sites like Patsy Richelieu Best First Quarter Star colony that were likely most in need. Of course, this particular colony didn’t need anything from them. It was wild to see, though. They would kind of always expect a colony to either be the fruits of a grand cosmic exodus, or only one person looking to disconnect from society. There was a lot of middle ground, though, and they would probably meet others like Patsy and her cake-loving friends.

“What we need is some kind of monitoring system,” Mateo suggested, not knowing exactly what he was going for. “Like in movies where aliens are here to protect us. I guess they don’t have to be benevolent. They just have to know a lot about us, and have spent time studying us without giving themselves away.”

“It sounds like you’re talking about invisible probes,” Leona offered. “Movies often don’t explain how they remain hidden, but it would be something like that.”

“Invisible probes, I can do,” Ramses decided. He jumped over to the nearest workstation. “It can stay optically invisible using holography, and shield its waste heat signature using a miniature hot pocket. It would be able to move on its own power, and teleport when necessary. It would send signals exclusively through the bulk, so only we receive the data. It keeps watch over establishments throughout the year, and compiles a report for when we return.” He was getting really excited about the possibilities. “I wish I had thought of it myself. We keep jumping from place to place when we just need to let the information come to us.” He looked up to find everyone staring at him.

“Go on,” Romana encouraged. “What else were you thinking?”

“That I should work alone,” Ramses said. He reached over, and squeezed the band of his watch.

After he held the button down for a few seconds, the whole team vanished.

“Did he just kick us out of his lab?” Angela questioned.

“Wow. Rude,” Marie joked. “But it’s smart for him to have that, for security.”

“It might take a few days,” Leona estimated. “He won’t just be designing the new probe, but testing for failures and black swan events. In the meantime, I think I would like to consider building something for us all that is in this dimension, instead of our pocket dimension habitats. Nothing against them, but they’re more for mobile use.”

“I agree,” Mateo said. “If our enemies are right, and this is going to be an important planet in the future, then I imagine we stay here for a long time. Or not. Perhaps, like all the other things we’ve had in the past, we’ll hand this off to someone else, while we move on to something else.”

“I believe what Ramses is doing will keep us busy for quite a while,” Romana pointed out. “There is probably a lot going on in the galaxy that we simply do not know about, so it seems boring. We lack data, and we’re about to get it. But yeah, I’m in.”

They sat down to start drawing up plans for residences fit for an interstellar capital—not too gaudy—they were not trying to play themselves as gods. By the end of the day, however, Ramses was finished with his probes. They sent a small test batch out to some past establishments. They returned to the timestream the next year with a hit.

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Microstory 2698: Color to a Blind Man

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The conversation was over with the kids. Isavet was excited to learn. She wanted to see the big diamond wall that separated her tiny corner of Castlebourne from everyone else. It’s not, strictly speaking, forbidden, but it’s frowned upon since it breaks the immersion. It’s also kind of impossible to get to. Not really, but sort of. You can only reach it by water, but the walls curve down like a soup bowl. So yes, there is some kind of metamaterial or concrete that you can touch, but the sides are so sloped and slippery that you can’t get out and walk around. The environmental hologram, meanwhile, makes it look like there’s miles and miles of more water and land, even though you’re probably less than two meters from the projection. Still, he would be open to taking her if she really wants to, but only when she’s older. Every time they talk about the outside world, it takes Ronan out of it, and undermines the purpose of the simulation.

Talus couldn’t care less. Giant dome, whole planet; it didn’t matter to him. He didn’t ask questions or widen his eyes at the bombshells. Ronan is seriously considering taking him to get him evaluated by a medical and mental health professional. They would let Ronan back in after an emergency, but if something really is wrong with Talus, then he wouldn’t be able to return to the network, and if that happened, effectively neither could Ronan. Nothing has been decided yet; there’s still plenty of time to weigh their options. Right now, he has to get to the bottom of this flex display situation. Gia has been lying this whole time. “Why?”

“I did it for Isa,” Gia began to explain. “What we just did in there is precisely what I knew I would have to do one day. I never thought I would lose my first partner, and I never thought I would meet someone like you, but this was always the plan. Your plan didn’t exist. You were pretty convinced that Talus was the same as he was before, and would eventually remember everything. When you told me stories of your exploits in the real world, you framed them as things that you might be able to revisit some day, either physically, or nostalgically through reminiscing. You never considered the possibility that you would have to teach someone about domes and simulations. Imagine going back in time to the better part of two millennia ago. Explain any of this to any adult you meet in that period. It simply can’t be done. This was the best time to do it. They’re old enough to have real conversations, but young enough that their brains are still plastic. But they’re still human, and they needed a visual aid. The only other option was calling an elevator, or reaching an emergency exit. Would you rather I have done that instead?”

“No, of course not. I just don’t want you to get in trouble.”

“The display was a necessary evil. And it’s done,” Gia decides. “That’s why I chose this variant, because it will burn up in a fire just fine. See? Watch me.” She pulls it out of her pocket, unrolls it, and hangs it over the flames of the firepit. “I’m just waiting in case you change your mind, but if not, you have three, two, one.” She throws it in. It sizzles and steams as the protective outer layer evaporates from the core. It’s designed to give users a few extra seconds to save it from an accidental drop, or if they changed their minds. Because once it’s gone, it burns up quick; even faster than real paper.

A few months later, they find themselves regretting letting it go when they discover that Gia is heavy with child. Vith, Talus, and Isavet are going to have a little brother or sister to play with. They sit them down for another conversation, and tell them the good news, but Talus is not happy.

Extremus: Year 127

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Things were weird on the ship after the announcement came through that Admiral Oceanus Jennings was dead. People seemed to be alarmed and upset by the news. They would say things like he was too young, and that it wasn’t his time. Waldemar’s advisors explained the morale was down as a result of the sad development. Morale? Morale? Because somebody died? He was an old man, he wasn’t gonna live forever anyway. Waldemar will never understand this relentless pursuit of the past. It happened, get over it. You’re still alive, so don’t stop now. There’s more work to do. It’s been two years now, and things have not improved much. If Waldemar knew how the passengers, and especially the crew, would react, he never would have done it. Who knew that killing someone would have consequences? They didn’t teach that in school. They just said that murder was bad, and assumed everyone would understand and agree. He’s been smart, though. He hasn’t been contradicting them. Taking Silveon’s general life advice, he has been letting people feel what they feel. It’s been getting in the way of his plans, though. Extremus is in a slump.

Everyone is afraid of change. It is a core property of humans, actually, and all life. Sure, evolution necessarily leads to change, but everything is in search of equilibrium. Everything wants to find a way to live where they can be centered and happy. Change isn’t only scary, it requires high cognitive load, and the formation of new muscle memory. So in the end, it’s not as much about the fear of the unknown as it’s about laziness. Change requires putting in effort; mentally, physically, emotionally. Waldemar is probably no different than most people, except for the emotional side of things. He doesn’t want to work too hard. So why is all this change that he is trying to institute not a problem for him in particular? Well, it’s because his mental state is already there. He sees what the world should be, so his brain wants to do work. Even when it was originally working through the problems, though, it wasn’t too taxing, because it felt right. That’s the equilibrium that his mind is searching for. Change is the goal. That’s what his therapist-in-a-box says anyway. He’s been relying on her a lot these days.

“Why do you think that is?” Dr. Wholth asks in that soft voice of hers, which is likely meant to keep her patients calm.

“Why am I relying on you so much?” Waldemar guesses. “You’re the only person I can talk to who can’t get upset about the terrible things I’ve done, and can’t rat me out to anyone about them.”

Dr. Wholth is an airgapped program, loaded into a self-contained device, powered by interchangeable fuel cells. She has no access to the internet, and no one else has access to her. They don’t even know about her. He created her himself. He took the base personality of the ship’s freely available virtual companion, and copied it onto this offline machine. He then fed it all of the psychological, psychiatric, and therapeutic information he could find. She even knows a little bit of medicine, though she wouldn’t be able to do anything to help physically since she’s only a hologram. “You don’t think you can trust Silveon or Audrey anymore? You used to lo— be quite attached to them.” He didn’t program her to make little mistakes like that. As he is not a tech developer, he can’t figure out how to remove it from her core code.

“To be honest, I’m getting rather tired of them. I used to crave stability and predictability, but now I just want a fresh start. I want new people. I think I needed them before. I don’t think that I’ve learned I never needed them. I think I genuinely changed. I’m proof that it can happen.”

“That’s good, that’s good,” she says encouragingly. “You’re getting better at understanding your own behavior, and feeling less robotic; your words.”

He laughs. She is always acting like she can offend him, but she really can’t. He knows that she’s just zeroes and ones. She sometimes acts afraid too, like when he talks about the people he’s killed. She seems worried that he will do the same to her. Which he might. He shuts her off every time he’s done using her, and her consciousness does not continue until he switches her back on. He could one day choose to never complete that second step ever again. He could open the device up, and break all of her circuits apart. He sometimes considers that, just so he can end a life without any risk of consequences. He wouldn’t even need to contact his secret police for help covering it up.

“What are you thinking about, Waldemar? You’ve been quiet for the last couple of minutes,” Dr. Wholth says.

He wants to get a reaction, so he tells her the truth about his most recent thoughts.

Dr. Wholth nods. “Then perhaps that’s what we should do.”

“You want me to break your logic board?” Waldemar questions.

“No. I want you to find a healthy way to explore your urges and compulsions. You told me about your virtual honeymoon, and you told me about the game that you invented, but it doesn’t sound like you use such technology regularly.”

“Well, there’s nothing to do in VR,” he starts to explain. “Nothing is real. Even if you’re presented with problems to fix, the best solution to every single one of them is to simply log off. So I just don’t see the purpose.”

She sets her pencil and paper down, showing more of the lingerie she’s wearing. He just feels more comfortable talking to people like this, whether they’re real or not. He thinks it’s because she looks more vulnerable, and less of a threat to him. “People tend to require more than what is immediately around them. Have you ever heard of deep space hermits?” She poses.

“Yeah, they’re the guys who hollow out an asteroid, and just live alone for centuries. Doesn’t sound so bad. If I had no ambition...”

“If all they wanted to do was survive, they could live for millions of years off of that one asteroid. They would have a bed if they were still organic enough to sleep. They would have food, water, basic life support. They could recycle their waste, and never need anything else. Their habitat could be the size of your water closet. But what kind of life is that? It’s worse than a simulation, because there’s not even the illusion of something happening. They always have VR, AR, and-or larger infrastructure to provide them with stimuli. It may sound like they went out there to be alone, but they instead go out to be in control. Your problem, Captain Kristiansen is you don’t have very much control. Sure, you’re in charge, but you rely on others to make things happen. You need them to make their own decisions, or things will fall apart. You can’t handle it all on your own, and I don’t think you would want to. But if you really want to feel in control, you need to construct your own world to inhabit. You won’t live there permanently, but it might be a nice escape. You’re still human, Captain. Your brain is wired differently, but you share a lot of traits with others. I think you get so wrapped up in what sets you apart that you miss the similarities.”

“Well, the program would have to be isolated, like you. I wouldn’t feel free if other users can show up, and see what I’m doing.”

“That goes without saying,” Dr. Wholth says. “I could help you write the program, so we don’t have to involve anyone else. There’s more than enough extra room on my data drives for a single, original environment. We could even hold sessions in there. I know you sweep this room for bugs every day. Those wouldn’t matter in the construct. It would all be in your head...and mine, so to speak.”

“I could hurt people in a judgment free zone? I could make any choice I wanted.”

“Exactly,” Dr. Wholth confirmed. “I said I could be there, but it doesn’t have to be in my capacity as a therapist, or not every time. I have other characteristics. I could be your friend, your lover, even your enemy. You explore parts of yourself that you can’t in the real world, and when you log out, you go back to your regular life. All of that pent up aggression has been released, and no one has to see it. No one has to know. I think it would make you a better captain. I think it would make you a better leader. If you want to raise morale, it starts at the top. When you’re stressed out, so is everyone else. You need to show them what happiness looks like.”

“I don’t really do happiness,” he reminds her.

“No, that’s not true,” she claims, shaking her head. “You can be happy. It’s a common misconception that people with personality disorders don’t have emotions. You absolutely do. You just need to learn better what they look like on the outside. You’ve been doing a great job. Silveon helped you, Audrey helped, even Sable helped with that. And of course I have. But there’s something else in the background that’s holding you back from greatness. Let the simulations pull that off of you, so you can become your best self. I’m not trying to change you into someone else, just the better you.”

“Okay, you’ve convinced me,” Waldemar decides. “I’m in. We won’t start today, though. Go back in your little box so I can get back to work. We’ll talk later.”

“Yes, sir, Captain, sir,” she says respectfully before flickering off.

“Ugh, I thought she would never leave.” Sable appears from the bathroom.

Waldemar jumps to his feet. “How long have you been there?”

She smirks. “Long enough to know that VR isn’t going to help. You’re too smart. You’ll always know it’s not real.” She approaches slowly, almost sexily.

“I don’t know what you think you heard...” he begins to argue.

“Shh.” She places a finger upon his lips. “Relax. You think I didn’t know what you were when I met you?” She grabs his arm muscles. “A big strong man like you runs on pure testosterone.” She growls.

“What do you want, Sable?” They’ve not slept together in the last few weeks. He just kind of got tired of that too.

“Kill me,” she offers. “You want to feel something real? Kill me. I can take it.” What the hell does that mean, she can take it?

“I’m not going to do that.” He might have to, though.

Sable giggles. “Fine. Then I guess I’ll go make an announcement over the PA system, telling everyone what you really are.”

Okay. Now he does have to stop her. But he’ll just put her in his private brig until he can figure out what to do with her. He takes her by the wrist so she can’t teleport away. She spins around as she’s pulling a pocketknife out of her pants, and jams it into his leg. She giggles again. So he does what she asks, and kills her. Dr. Wholth might have been wrong. Even this has lost its charm. He may be getting tired of hurting people too.

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