Microstory 2691: Mettle

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Ronan and Mayumi are at the entrance, waiting for the elevator to lift up to the surface of their first dome. He’s staring at the screen, which is playing footage of the Nordome Network, as if they’ve not already bought into the adventure. He’s not paying attention to the video itself, but the fact that it’s on a screen. They weren’t invented until the 19th or 20th centuries. That seems like so long ago, and they’re jumping so much further into the past than that. But he’s not really thinking about that either. He’s thinking about that screen; about how it’s the last one he’ll ever see for decades. His character is 29 years old, and Mayumi was made to look about 18. Historically, she probably would have been younger, but there are limits to how authentic they’re going to be. This is wild west of the Charter Cloud. Castlebourne’s laws don’t care how old someone appears to be, as long as the totality of their experiences make them an adult. He’s never heard of any substrate-play which—he doesn’t want to think about it. They’re both adults. Their characters have been married for a year. She’s pregnant. That screen.

They’re sitting here with a couple dozen other people who are entering the simulation at the same time. The walls are gray and metallic in a very rustic way, almost like their means of bridging the gap between the modern era, and the Viking Age. Or maybe it’s just a cheap way to build since all this thing has to do is take you up to a forest that’s meant to look like one you would find in Danmörk on Earth. As he’s still watching that screen, getting a little bit of cold feet, Ronan starts to realize that the only reason the metaphor is creeping into his mind is because of what’s actually happening to his feet. At first, he thinks someone spilled their water, but then he sees that there’s way too much of it. The walls are leaking, and the pod is filling up fast. Others have noticed as well, and start to get worried. There are rules about what your substrate has to be. You can’t come in here as a condor, or have advanced physical traits, like the kind of strength a true Norsemen wouldn’t have ever been physically capable of achieving. And you can’t have gills. His and Mayumi’s consciousnesses are still streaming to the remote servers, and he suspects everyone else’s is too, but they still don’t want to die.

They’re floating now, the water is so deep. People are trying to find some kind of emergency hatch, or a way to contact help. Ronan looks over. The display is still showing the hype video, but it’s starting to shutter and shake. The lights are flickering, they’re about to die. Something bad must be happening on the surface, like a simulated hurricane so powerful that it’s breaking the fourth wall, and literally leaking into the infrastructure of the dome. All four walls suddenly separate from each other and fall away. The rest of the water rushes in so they’re fully submerged. He finds Mayumi, and holds her close to his chest as he looks up. There’s a light, filtering through the water, showing their way to escape. They kick their legs and breach. Ah, their supplies. Some of it is floating around, but some of it isn’t buoyant. The ocean floor isn’t too far away. He might still be able to reach it. “I’m going down for the tools!”

“Okay!” She yells. It is storming, though it’s probably not a hurricane. Splintered slabs of wood are scattered about, which weren’t in the elevator. It’s a shipwreck.

Ronan takes a deep breath, and dives back down. As he’s searching for their tool basket, he spots the elevator pod. The walls are coming back together as it’s dropping back down into the shaft. This is obviously not anywhere close to being an accident. The Custodians set up an elaborate way to introduce them to the world of the Norsemen, and they did it in spectacularly terrible fashion. He absolutely loves it, but that doesn’t mean he’s going to go back up there with nothing. He spots the basket, so he adjusts his heading, and goes for it. Someone else reaches it first. The stranger starts picking up the tools that fell out, and putting them back. Ronan is about to fight him for it, because that’s what a Viking would do, but then he sees something else. A young man is drifting around. His eyes are closed. He’s clean-shaven, wearing farmer’s clothing.

Ronan can’t vie for the tools and save the boy too. He doesn’t know who this is, but if he’s half as enthusiastic about this simulation as Ronan and Mayumi is, he wouldn’t want to die on his first day. Would they let him back in? Is there a waiting period for screwing up this badly this early? Plus, Ronan isn’t even sure that he’ll survive at all. You do not have to be immortal to come here. You have to sign a bunch of waivers, just like Mayumi did with baby Talus, but they will let you in if you really want to test your mettle. Yeah, he has to save this guy. He adjusts his heading slightly once more, and reaches the kid. He takes him by the underarms, and swims them both up.

“Ronan!” he hears Mayumi call. “Ronan, over here!” She’s holding onto a big wooden door. The guy who stole their tools is trying to find refuge on it too. “Get the hell off!” she demands, physically pushing him away. She wasn’t even there when he stole from them, but she has ver good instincts.

Ronan drags the victim over to the door, and together, they lift him onto it. Okay, back then, no one in the world had any clue how to perform CPR, but Ronan has his own rules and limits. He’s not going to compromise his integrity for what essentially boils down to a game. He went down there, and pulled this guy up, so he’s going to get the water out of his lungs, and make him breathe again, even if it’s not historically accurate. While Mayumi steadies the door, Ronan presses on the victim’s chest, and provides rescue breaths. He only does it for a few minutes, and never needs to take a break.

The boy lives. He instinctively turns to his side, and spits the water up. He coughs and breathes erratically as he fully returns to the land of the living, or rather the sea of the living. “Thank you!” he says when he gets the chance. “I’m an idiot.”

“It’s quite all right, son,” Ronan says. “Are you here with anyone?”

The boy shakes his head. “My character is an orphan who just escaped indentured servitude in search of a better life in Danmörk.”

Ronan smiles, and slaps him on the back, incidentally causing more water to spill out of his mouth. “Well, you’re gonna find it.” He looks over at the thief, who is trying to grab onto a skjöldr. It keeps flipping around, and as the storm starts growing even worse, he ultimately loses the tools to the deep. “Stop!” Ronan orders. “It’s gone! If we’re going to make it to that shore, we have to do it together!”

He continues to lead the participants. He figures out how to bring them all together, so no one gets pulled away by the waves. They make their way towards the land mass, which started out about a kilometer away. Man, these people really know how to make life interesting. He didn’t sign up to start this whole thing with practically nothing, but it’s the best thing that could have happened to him, and is only invigorating him. Now they have to really build something here. Now they have to fight for survival. The first step in their long journey is over, and it’s probably the easiest one they’ll run up against. They’ve made it. They start climbing up the beach. And so it begins.

Microstory 2652: A Wing and a Prayer

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Malika Turnbull follows her friend’s instructions, not knowing if it’s going to work. Truthfully, she hates mythology, but Mandica needs her, and she’s willing to stomach it for as long as she must. Hopefully Plan A will work, and it won’t be too terribly long. She’s standing at the maintenance entrance, still in the plaza, not even too far from the reception. The door is locked, which they figured would be the case since it’s a secure area. She locates the nearest camera, and holds a photo of Mandica up to it. This really probably won’t work. Daedalus would have to be monitoring it, or have some sort of alert system connected to it. Why would he even do that? He’s supposed to be an NPC. He’s not supposed to have any access to the outside world, or the inner workings of any dome. There’s just no way—the door swings open on its own. “Oh. Okay, then.”

She goes through the passageway then lifts the trapdoor, and ends up in the meadow that Mandica described. Oh, she almost forgot. She detaches the pole from her back, extends it to the right length, and jams it into the stone wall to prevent the hidden secondary door from trapping her here. As a visitor, she would have every right to leave, but that would be a whole thing. Hopefully this guy doesn’t take long.

Several hours later, a man wearing brown and gray wings swoops down from the sky holding a torch. He jams it into the ground, and smiles cautiously. “I’m Daedalus. What fate has befallen Mandica Kolar of Tribe Kolar?” Would Daedalus say that?

“She’s fine. She just can’t leave where she is, so she sent me in her stead.”

“Did she find the woman for whom she was looking?” he asks.

“Yes, but Morgana is powerful, and angry with Mandica, for no apparent reason. Mandica is calling in the favor that you owe her.” The original script had her qualify that with expressing the hope that the favor still stands, but Malika suggested that she hold firm so it doesn’t become an argument. Mandica accepted the attitude, because after all, she’s not the one who has to be here with these creatures, wherever they might be lurking. “She is asking you to engineer a pair of wings for her. She requests raven black.”

“Hmm,” Daedalus says. “What is your name, child?”

“Don’t call me that. I’m probably older than you. My name is Malika Turnbull.”

“Fascinating. Are you two related?” he asks offensively.

“Oh, because we’re both black, we must be related.”

“Your names, dear traveler. They’re similar. That is all I meant.”

“Oh.” Malika shrugs. “People have similar names. It happens.”

“I wouldn’t know.” There are other people named Daedalus out there, Malika is sure of it, but she wouldn’t expect the bot version of the original to understand that.

“So. How about those wings?” she presses.

“I will not have to build something new for her. If it is raven black she is after, then it is raven black she shall have. I have a new line of wings back in my shop that I think she’s really gonna love. More compact than ever, more advanced in every way. They exist in your world, but they are quite rare. I had to sacrifice a lot to persuade—”

“I don’t mean to be rude, but I don’t need your life story.” Yikes.

“Very well, my new blue friend. Back or front?”

“Huh?”

“Would you like me to carry you, or let you ride on my back?”

“Neither. I will stay here and wait for your return.”

He shakes his head. “This area is unsafe. Spriggans lurk in these woods. You have been lucky so far. Had I known that you would be coming, I would have been waiting for you. Please, you must come with me. You may be immortal, but I do not want to return to this spot to find your dead body, and have to wait for your replacement.”

She refrains from arguing that it was she who had to wait for him before. Instead, she lets him pick her up by her underarms, and fly her over the lands. “This is some bullshit,” she complains on the way. She doesn’t like being controlled by other people.

They land on the top of his tower in the center of a great city. Crowds of people are cheering for him, and seemingly praying. He waves at them respectfully, and blows them kisses, but does not stay long before escorting Malika inside. “This is my flight lab,” he says when they enter the room. “I have others, but I’m obviously fond of wings.”

 “Right.” Again, Malika is not into this sort of stuff, but she is an educated woman. She knows enough about the stories to know that Daedalus didn’t just keep building wings, and become the emperor of the world, or whatever he is here. Mandica said that the mythology has evolved on its own with all these unrelated characters being forced together, but it’s surreal seeing it up close. She still doesn’t wanna stick around.

“Ah, right here,” Daedalus says as he’s walking a dress form mannequin more towards the center of the room. He smiles proudly, which is odd, because there’s nothing on the mannequin. He reaches behind it, and presumably flips some switch. Nanites emerge from the back, and form themselves into wings. They are raven black, as requested. “What do you think? I have other corvids, but this one was specifically inspired by the raven. There are other black ones too, though they’re more metallic.”

“I think she will love these,” Malika has no choice but to admit.

“Do you want to try them out first?” he asks, still standing tall and proud.

“Oh, no. They’re not for me.” Malika walks around to get a better look at the backside, and the housing unit. “Besides, what would I be testing? She didn’t specify what she’s looking for. She didn’t know they could collapse like this. As long as they work, she will accept them. I presume you don’t have a return policy.”

“For her, I absolutely do,” Daedalus says. “But you really should try them. If not, I have other models, perhaps in blue? This might be your last chance.”

“Okay, fine.” She’s a guest here, right? She doesn’t want to be rude. She only gave up being a superhero in Underbelly because her substrate was destroyed. She still likes to have fun. The blue wings are not quite the same shade of blue as her character, but perhaps that’s a good thing. Blue Umbra is dead, and unlike Ravensgate Rescuer, she’s never coming back to life. She lets him help her put the apparatus on, and take her out to the edge of the building. If he’s trying to kill her, he’ll fail. Her mind will just stream over to her nearest backup. She leaps from the building, activates propulsion, and begins to soar through the air. It’s a magnificent feeling. She was obviously just flying, but it’s better to be in control. She spends an hour up there, feeling the wind in her face, and enjoying life for the first time in a long time. She lands back on the roof with a huge smile. “Thank you for letting me have that experience.”

“It doesn’t have to end,” he says. “You can keep them.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, why not? No one here can appreciate them like a real-worlder can.”

“Well, thank you,” She’s not gonna argue. “Do you have one in red and black?”

Microstory 2615: If You Stay, There Will Be Trouble, But if You Go, It Will Be Double

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August 22, 2526. The caravan has been continuing on its way. They have started noticing tracks in the regolith which suggest that others have had to drive to escape. Their own trains might have also been damaged, or they just didn’t want to use them. There’s no way to communicate with people that far away, though. Radio signals can only reach a short distance with all this electromagnetic interference in the air now. Breanna has had to keep the vehicles closer together so they don’t lose track of one another. They obviously lost contact with the two dissenters right quick, so they don’t know what’s become of them, but it’s been more than a day. In all probability, they’re already dead. The truth is, it would be nice if they could confirm that just to be ultra confident that no one else will get the idea to do the same thing.

By and large, despite their horrific circumstances, everything has been going relatively smoothly. Breanna is still the de facto leader since she is the most knowledgeable one here, and everyone seems to be respecting that. While she still says that she’s operating the lead car, it isn’t always the one in front. One or more of the others will periodically come across a nice, road-like surface, and gain some speed. This is fine, it’s not like they’re in a single-file line, so there is no way to serve as vanguard for all of them. Unfortunately, that may be precisely what they should have done.

“So.” Cash spins her seat around to face the rest of the passengers. “Does anyone know any driving ga—?”

The vehicle suddenly veers to the left. They can’t quite tell why at first, but they certainly feel the lurch, and a bright orange light overwhelms their eyes. Breanna reaches up instinctively to take manual control, but that is not the right thing to do in this situation, so she holds back. The autopilot changed directions for a reason, and while it may not be smarter, it does have greater awareness, and can react faster.

“Oh my God!” someone on the radio screams. “It just threw them into the air. Oh my God what is that? What is that!” They continue to hear voices, but it’s just an unintelligible cacophony.

“Zero-three-one is down!” Cash declares, looking at her terminal.

“Down how?” Breanna demands to know. “What happened?”

“This.” Cash flings the image on her screen to Breanna’s. A giant spinning vortex of fire is spiraling up into the air and widening. “I don’t know what any of this means. Weather and natural disasters science isn’t my bag.”

“It’s a pyrotornado. The methane levels just spiked off the charts. There’s probably a reservoir underneath us, which the CME destabilized, and it just went critical, possibly due to our presence.”

“Hello?” someone manages to radio clearly after a brief lull. “What do we do?”

Breanna grabs the mic. “Go radio silent and wait for my instructions. Don’t touch the controls.” She faces Cash. “The rovers haven’t stopped, so I assume it’s better to keep going. If we’re over the pocket, we need to try to get off of it.”

“Impossible to say,” Cash explains quickly. “We don’t have time to survey the land. The one behind us could be a baby. We could be driving towards the motherlode.”

“What’s that right there?” Aetrena asks, leaning forward over Cash’s shoulder, and pointing at her screen.

“The computer is calculating a 56% chance that it’s safer to hunker down than to bug out, but that’s too close to call, so it’s deferring to the operator. It maintains the status quo until you give it a new plan. So we should do that,” Cash urges.

Breanna glances back at the data and tries to make a snap decision. This really isn’t her forte. She likes computers. And that’s why she should trust it. Those are terrible odds, but 56 is higher than 44, so without any further information, the only logical response is to give yourself the best chance. “Do you think that zero-three-one triggered it by running over some kind of entrance? It literally lit a spark?”

“That would be my guess,” Cash concurs.

“Then I’m activating hunker mode for all vehicles.” She starts tapping her interface. “It looks like that thing is moving away or running out of gas. I don’t want what happened to three-one to happen to someone else.” Their rover comes to a complete stop, as do all of the others, spread out a little for safety. “We wait it out while we use our caravan sensor array to run that survey. We need to know where to go, and how to move safely.” She gets back on the radio to do her best to explain all that to everyone else. They have some questions, but Cash is going to have to field them...one at a time, in an orderly fashion. For now, they just aren’t going to move. The computer begins to lower their suspensions, and inject their anchor spikes.

“Boss? This is one-two-one,” someone radios in a panic shortly thereafter.

“Go ahead, one-twenty-one.”

“We lost someone,” Rover 121 says quickly. “He ran out, out of his mind. He doesn’t know anyone here, and has been a little crazy this whole time, but now he said he’s afraid of the small space, and just had to break free.”

“Is he wearing a suit?” Breanna asks.

“Not even a mask. He was scared of that too.”

“I see them, they’re not far,” Cash reports.

“Shit,” Breanna says, going back to the controls. “It will take some time to reverse hunker mode, but faster for us than anyone else, and we all have IMS units.”

Tertius is looking at the screens now. “No time. He’ll die out there. I’ll hoof it.”

“And then what?” Breanna questions.

Tertius grabs the door handle. “Then I’ll give him my suit. Lower your visors.”

They all seal up their suits, except for Aeterna. As soon as her father runs out, also without a vacuum seal, she casually closes the door. Who are these people?

“Come on, come on!” Breanna urges. She keeps one eye on the release progress, and the other on Tertius’ beacon. He’s moving fast, but they’ll be able to catch up if this blasted thing ever gets going. “Goddammit, let’s go!” She impatiently waits a little more, and a little more. “Finally!” She activates manual mode this time, peeling out, and spinning a doughnut.

Visibility is low, but they draw close enough to see Tertius open his suit in the back, grab the panicking guy by the wrists, and shove him into it in his place. Without even waiting for the vehicle to stop, Aeterna opens the door again just as a new explosion right underneath flings them all into the air. She grabs the man just in time, and pulls him in to safety. Her father, though...Breanna doesn’t care how enhanced he is, he’s not surviving a thermal cyclone out in the open like that wearing little more than shorts and a t-shirt. He’s just not. They might not even survive.

The Seventh Stage: Rock and a Hard Place (Part III)

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Ezqava ‘Effigy’ Eodurus has had a storied past. Much of it, she prefers to forget. She was young and stupid at the time, and very vulnerable. She placed her trust in someone who turned out to be so much better than her, she never wants to feel that judged again. She truly doesn’t understand her own mind. She’s mischievous and unpredictable, and even sometimes violent. That’s why they locked her up on Earth, and now on this random remote penal colony. Colony isn’t the right word for it, though, since she lives here alone. It’s not too bad. She has a nice home with a pool. The weather is always tame, but she can see storms range in the distance, which is interesting. They’ve provided her with countless hours of entertainment, but no means of communication. She can see what’s going on all over the universe, but can have no effect on it. Unless someone comes to talk to her. Which they do, all the time, though less so in recent days. When she was trapped in her cage on Earth, no one visited her. Most people didn’t even know that she existed. Here, she’s so popular. Here, they value her knowledge. Sadly, they don’t value her as a person. It’s her fault, and she knows it, but it’s still been difficult.

It won’t always be like this. Effigy doesn’t have the power to see the future, but with all the data that she’s collected, she’s pretty confident in her predictions. Hers is not the only transcendent power in these lands. There are two others, and based on the trajectory of their dealings, it won’t be long before they meet. The only question then is whether she can convince them to join forces with her. In the past, she would attempt to gain allies through trickery and subterfuge. Her ability to shapeshift into any human form has always been too tempting to ignore, and too easy to abuse. Her usual methods won’t fly with Clavia and Echo. Not only will they see right through it, but they actually have the power to turn on her. The reason she was in a cage for centuries was because none of her combatants knew how to kill her. The Cloudbearer twins do not suffer the same shortcomings. They have more power than her, and it’s hard to tell how they’ll use it. They’re good...for now—if there even is such a thing as a good person. That doesn’t mean they won’t fight her. If she wants them to trust her, she has to be honest, good, and honestly good. That’s why she has spent the last several years helping leaders of this pocket universe. She’s been asking for favors in return, but only because that’s what they expect. If she did it for nothing, they would be suspicious of her.

Effigy has been trying to get better, but without an unbiased third party to assess her progress, she can’t know if it’s worked. Her self-improvement was driven by her desire to regain the power and freedom that she once had. Is this a paradox? Is it impossible to be worthy of the power that one seeks if they seek it? Is ambition inherently evil? More importantly, how will the god twins see it? Earlier, she planted the seed of her answer when an old friend came for a visit. Either she’s about to get a third visitor in one day, or her friend is back.

She watches as the personal pod streaks across the sky, and lands somewhere on the other side of the wall that keeps Effigy from seeing the ocean. She’s tried asking for a tower to have a better view of this world, but she’s never given anyone enough intel to warrant such a gift. She’s going to play it differently this time, not like she did before with Bariq. She’s going to be cool and composed, but genuine and professional. The door opens. Two women walk through. One is the friend, but the other is a stranger. “You have returned,” Effigy begins, “sooner than I expected.”

“The term sequence that you provided was right,” Tekla replies. “It took me to an evidently unused Nexus, which allowed me to travel to Origin, where I met an apparent god, who connected me with this one here.” She gestured towards the other woman.

“Hi, Francis Deering,” she says, offering her hand.

Effigy reaches out for it, then pulls back in horror. She forgot to shapeshift into the form of a human. She looks like her true self still...a white monster. “I’m terribly sorry. I didn’t mean for you to see me like this. I didn’t realize.” She takes a breath, and transforms herself into a woman she once knew by the name of Slipstream.

“It’s okay,” Francis assures her. “You don’t scare me.” Her skin begins to vibrate and ripple. Within seconds, she looks like a masculine version of herself, perhaps a twin brother, or something. She—or he—seems as surprised as Effigy and Tekla do. “Wow, that was much faster than it is where I’m from. Your world is interesting.”

Effigy smiles. “May I ask, what are your pronouns?”

“She/her when I’m in my female form, and he/him when I’m like this.  If you’re talking about me in a more general sense, and you’ve encountered me in both forms about evenly, you can use they/them.”

“Can you turn into anyone, or just this one guy?” Tekla asks him.

“I’m not turning into a different person,” Francis explains. “I’m both people. Nothing about who I am as a person changes when I’m in one form or the other. They call me a dimorph; both male and female. I can only have one reproductive system at a time, but my mind and personality maintain continuity.”

They nod.

“I can shift back, if you’re more comfortable...” Francis offers.

“No, it’s whatever you want,” Effigy assures him. “Is that why you chose him?” she asks Tekla. “Because he’s a shifter.”

“I explained the situation to the god, Senona Riggur, who suggested a therapist would be of some use to you. This is who they chose.”

“So, you’re from another universe?” Effigy asks Francis.

“Am I?” Francis volleys. “No clue. I just go where they tell me.”

“Well, I really appreciate you coming here, and I would appreciate more of your time. You see, I’ve traditionally not been so great of a person. As you saw, I’m not a person at all. I think that I’ve learned the error of my ways, but self-assessment can only get you so far.”

“You say you’re not a person. What do you mean by that?”

“Well, you saw. I’m not human.”

“Just because you’re not human doesn’t mean you’re not a person.”

“Do you know a lot of non-humans where you’re from? I mean, more intelligent beings than just dogs and cats.”

Francis smirks. “I know a few.” She takes a beat. “Let’s get into this. Is there somewhere we can talk?”

“Yeah. Tekla, do you need to get back to Judy before she gets suspicious?” Effigy asks, worried. Maybe she is better, worrying about others.

Tekla laughs. “You think I took the Nexus to a hostile unknown location without getting my boss’ permission first? She went with me. She was granted her own wish alongside mine. Don’t ask what it was, though.”

“I see. Tell her thank you. She’s always been more supportive and understanding with me than other people.”

“I will pass along the message. Until then...” Tekla starts to say, “I’ve never skinny-dipped before, but I hear that’s how it’s done in this pool.”

Now Effigy is the one to laugh. “You can if you want. I also have suits in the cabana. We’ll be in the solarium, if you don’t mind a little sun, Mr. Deering. The windows are rated high for UV shielding.”

“That sounds lovely,” Francis replies.

The two of them head to the other side of the house to discuss Effigy’s issues, and her self-doubts. In the spirit of my agreement with Dr. Hammer to stay out of the therapy sessions that she has with her own patients, I cannot relay what Francis and Effigy discussed in private. While Dr. Hammer did not technically ask me to maintain the privacy of all of my characters, I believe that she would prefer me to respect therapist-patient confidentiality across the board except for conversations which are integral to the plot. Suffice it to say, Francis’ wisdom was very helpful in Effigy’s quest to not only become a better person, but to understand what that truly means, and how to measure her own progress, as well as recognize her successes for what they are.

Effigy looks up to the sky again. “You’re in my head.”

Is she talking to me?

“Yes, Superintendent, I am talking to you. You are writing this story from an omniscient third-person perspective. You know everything that I’m thinking. The fact that you chose not to watch my therapy session is meaningless. You still know exactly what happened. You could always just pull it straight out of my thoughts.”

“Who are you talking to?” Francis asks. They’re currently strolling around—

“No, no, no,” Effigy interrupts me. “You’re not going to ignore my question by droning on and on about the minutiae of our current behavior, just to reach some arbitrary word count goal on this installment. There’s vivid imagery, and then there’s pointless and trivial details. We’re walking back to the other side of the house. There. Done. That’s all you need to say.”

I wasn’t ignoring your question. You didn’t ask one.

Effigy stops to think for a moment. As she does so, a beetle-like insectoid crawls along the leaf of a plant hanging from a pole on the side of the building. A spider-like creature is on the underside of this leaf, and the question is whether one will notice the other, both each other, or neither. No one is looking at these organisms, but it’s still happening. Things like this are happening all the time, all around you. If Effigy weren’t blinded by her frustration with me, she might have the capacity to take a moment to admire the beauty. She’s standing next to it right now, stewing. She’s choosing not to look over at the insectoids, knowing all too well that if I wanted her to look at them, she would goddamn look at them. For as powerful as she thinks she may be, she is nothing compared to the might of the author. I could erase her from the story with a few taps on my keyboard. She would never connect with Clavia and Echo. She would never realize her full potential. She would never really know if she became a better person, or if the leopard simply can’t change its spots. I already spent years not mentioning Effigy and her exploits at all, and I can do it again. I could do it forever if I like. Her past as the final boss in the Springfield Nine franchise may never have happened. I could erase that too if I wanted. And maybe I will.

I just did. Effigy who?

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The Seventh Stage: Piffy on a Rock Cake (Part II)

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Bariq walks briskly into the room, finally finding his co-parent standing there with one of her assistants, whispering about something or other. After they see him, they both smile, make one last exchange, then part ways. He walks farther in. “Where are they?” he demands to know.

“The kids?” Judy guesses. “I’m sure they’re just out partying with their friends.”

“I just ran into them in the hall,” Bariq counters. “They haven’t seen Clavia or Echo anywhere since they left the ceremony.”

“You saw all of their friends?” Judy questions.

“I saw enough,” he replies. “They don’t have many.”

“They have more than you think. Not all of them are from the Seventh Stage, you know. They have a lot in common with some of the students from the Third Rail.”

“Judy. The kids are missing.” Over the years, she’s become calmer and more trusting of their children. She’s allowed them to be young and dumb, and make mistakes. She teaches them right from wrong, but she has always seen them as preadolescent and adolescent humans. The reality is that they’re both unimaginably powerful superentities, and very dangerous. Bariq loves them, and cares for them, but he has not forgotten how they started out. They’re both far older than they appear, and he sometimes sees that in their eyes. They will seem normal one minute, bright-eyed and curious. Then the next, they’ll slip into this unsettling state of all-knowing indifference. He has been afraid of them growing up and getting their memories back this whole time. It’s put a strain on their relationship, and yes, he’s even worried that this strain will create a self-fulfilling prophecy that leads to the realization of his greatest fears. He can’t help it, though, because they really are dangerous, and it doesn’t seem prudent to ignore that.

“What do you want me to do?” Judy questions. “Sick a tracker on them?”

“I want you to take this seriously.”

“I do. They’re sixteen years old, they’re gonna run off and do stuff without permission.”

“They’re not sixteen, and stuff without our permission could be blowing up planets or smoking nebulas.”

“That is...quite the imagery,” Judy says, “and is completely unfounded. They’re good people. You should believe in them more.”

“So you’re not gonna help look for them.”

Judy sighs. “I have Rebecca for the year,” Judy explains. “I’m going to spend some time with her today. Maybe you should do something for yourself. How about that woman from the academy? She seemed into you.”

Bariq closes his eyes. “She’s a hundred years younger than me.”

Judy shrugs.

“You wouldn’t get it, you grew up with your soulmate.”

“And then I lost her.” When the main sequence version of Earth was copied into the Sixth Key, Judy was duplicated along with it. Her wife, however, Rebecca happened to be in the past at the time, because that was where she was working. When she returned to her present, the other Judy was waiting there to greet her. It took a while for them to even find out about the whole Reconvergence mess. Since then, they’ve established a unique relationship. Rebecca spends some of her time with main sequence Judy, and some of it with Seventh Stage Judy, like an odd joint custody sort of arrangement. It might be unusual, but it’s working for them. And the kids love Rebecca. They treat her like an aunt. Yeah, she’s technically more like a stepmother, but she can’t really discipline them since she’s gone half the time, so they ended up framing it differently.

“Then you got her back,” he reminds her.

Judy concedes the point. After a moment of silence, she thinks of something. “You know who you can go to if you’re looking for someone. And it’s not a tracker.”

Bariq is confused for a moment, but quickly gets over that. “We promised to never go back there.”

“We promise that all the time.”

He sighs. He has a feeling that something is wrong. Echo and Clavia aren’t just hanging out on a habitable moon, watching the gas giant that it’s orbiting dominate the sky. They’re somewhere, doing something. It might be good for all he knows, but it’s not innocuous. It’s not meaningless. He has to find them, and if that means talking to a certain dangerous prisoner, then he will. “Don’t tell Cedar.”

“I don’t talk to that guy anymore,” she says.

“All right. I love you.”

“Love you too.” They are the twins’ parents, but they aren’t married. They have never had any romantic feelings for each other. In fact, their relationship started out pretty rocky. They were chosen to negotiate together during The Rock meetings specifically because they didn’t always see eye to eye. That’s not how it was for every duo at those talks, but it wasn’t uncommon either. Over time, as they’ve tried to raise these kids together, their connection to each other has strengthened, and love is a decent enough word for it. She has Rebecca, and he has his consorts, but they always try to be on the same side, even when it’s hard.

He walks out of the room, and down the hall to their personal Nexus, which will take him indirectly to where he needs to go. While his target is a prison, she’s not in a typical locked facility. It’s too risky to leave her anywhere with people on a regular basis. She’s too charming and beautiful. She has a way of getting into people’s heads, which they take measures to combat with psychic wards. Because of the need for distance, if she needs anything, it’s up to her to provide it for herself, using whatever she can find where she’s being kept. That’s not a lot, but she doesn’t seem to need a lot, so it appears to be okay. And she’s gotten more over the years. Bariq would normally ask one of his kids to transport him there remotely, but since they’re the reason he’s deigning to go this time, that’s not an option. He takes the Nexus to the nearest space station, and then a personal pod the rest of the way. It’s slow, but that’s the point. If there were too many ways to get to the penal planet, there would be too many ways to get off of it, and that’s not an option.

The prisoner has extraordinary extrasensory perception, allowing her to know things without experiencing them, or being around. Even where she is, trapped and alone, she knows what’s going on everywhere else, even back in the original universe. That’s what makes her such a big threat, and why she can’t ever be allowed to leave. Unfortunately, she appears to be immortal, so keeping her in place might be an eternal responsibility. She has taken a particular interest in their family, as would be expected of someone in her position, driven partially by their repeated visits for information, and sadly, even advice. They’ve used this resource far more often than they morally should. It’s just too tempting. The issue is how much she likes it. She loves the attention, and it gives her a sense of power that she doesn’t deserve. Bariq prepares himself at the entrance. The walls are a hundred meters tall, and this is the only way in or out. It’s not guarded by anyone, but a satellite in geosynchronous orbit keeps constant watch over it. He holds his hand up, and motions for the AI to open the door for him, which it does.

He finds the prisoner in the courtyard of her home. Again, it’s not a normal prison. It’s actually a pretty nice place to live at this point. She even has a pool, which she is using right now. Without any clothes on. She knew that he was coming, so it’s not like she’s been caught off guard. “Oh my,” she says in total false modesty. “My king, you’ve arrived. I’m afraid I’m totally unprepared.” She speaks with a hint of an accent. Vaguely transatlantic, Judy once deemed it. The prisoner climbs the steps out, holding her arm and hand over her privates, but not doing a very good job of it. At the moment, she has given herself the appearance of Judy. Sick bastard.

“Take off that face, Effigy,” he demands. When the Reconvergence happened, and the main sequence was copied into the Sixth Key, most time travelers weren’t around. They were warned that it would happen, and given ways of protecting themselves, often by simply skipping over the moment entirely. Effigy was a prisoner in a different place on Earth, and had been for many centuries prior to all this. The theory is that whoever put her in there died, or completely forgot about her, so now there are two of her, just like everyone else there.

“Is this not pleasing to you?” She sounds innocent and naïve, but it’s all an act, just to screw with him.

“Go back to normal.” This is a loaded command, because her real form is an intimidating white monster. She’s literally not human. They call her a Maramon.

“Do you really mean that?” she asks.

“Yes.” Intimidating is a strong word when it comes to Bariq’s constitution. She doesn’t scare him, and her true appearance doesn’t change that.

“Very well.” She transforms. “How can I help you today, Your Majesty?”

He’s not going to once more argue the point about him not being a king. It’s exhausting, and there is no way to win. She could deny the existence of light if it served her agenda. Logic and reality were irrelevant concepts, as was perception. “You know where my kids are.” It’s not a question.

“I do.”

“Are they safe?”

She smiles. “They’re safer than you are.”

“What the hell does that mean?”

“It means that your greatest fears are coming to fruition. They are realizing how powerful they are, and they’re learning to exercise their independence.”

“What. Does. That. Mean?” he reiterates.

She waits a moment to respond. “If I’m going to help you, I need something in return.” She always does. That’s why she has this swimming pool, and a breadmaker. And an actual parachute made out of gold, which they only agreed to give her because it’s too heavy to fly.

“What is it this time?”

She looks around with a feigned frown. “Here I am, piffy on a rock cake. I’m nice and  sweet, and everyone loves me...but I’m so small. The rest of the cake is bland, and boring. It deserves more of me. It deserves more piffy.”

“Honestly, I have no idea what the fuck you’re talking about. What is a piffy?”

“Nobody knows.”

He lets out an exasperated sigh.

She mimics him. “General Bariq Medley, always so frustrated. If humans still had heart attacks, why you would have died centuries ago.”

“Get on with it, what do you actually want?”

“A mirror.”

“No,” he answers. He doesn’t know why exactly, but they have been told that she is not allowed to have mirrors. Sure, there is such a thing as a time mirror, which is a temporal object designed to view—or even access—other points in spacetime. But you can’t just turn any mirror into a time mirror. That’s mostly just what it looks like on the outside. There’s all sorts of technology and temporal magicks hidden in the guts. But in a world of time travelers, they can’t take any chances. She can presumably indeed give a regular mirror temporal properties.

“Oh, it’s just for my vanity. I have no one to talk to when you’re gone.” She exaggerates her frown, but a little too much. Her face is warped enough to throw her into the uncanny valley. Even white monsters don’t usually have this creepy of a face.

“So you’re going to talk to your own reflection?

“That’s my business.”

“Isn’t your reflection right there?” he gestures towards the water.

“I told you, I’m a piffy.”

“I still don’t know what that is.”

“It’s too big, I need a smaller mirror. I don’t care how it’s designed, just so that it can sit on a flat surface on its own, and is too small to fit through if it were a window.” That might sound like safer specifications than the most dangerous time mirror would have, some of which can be stepped through as portals, but no means of reaching across space and time is worth what she might do with even only an ounce of freedom beyond the confines of this one corner of this one celestial body.

“As I said...no.”

“Then you will never find your children.”

“You are not my only avenue.” He turns around to leave.

“No tracker can find them either,” she insists. “They are...beyond their sight.”

He looks back with a bit of a smirk. “A decent tracker can find anyone in the universe. If they’re beyond that, they’re in another universe. They’re in Fort Underhill.” He turns around again, and begins to walk away.

“Not...Fort Underhill,” she clarifies. After he turns to face her again. “Not Salmonverse either. Not even Ansutah.”

He narrows his eyes at Effigy. “A new universe,” he reasons. “That’s what they’re doing. They’re building one, just like Hogarth did. I knew it.”

“I never said that.” She’s either realizing that she has said too much, or this is all part of some dastardly plan, and her upset demeanor is yet another ploy.”

“Either way, I know who to talk to now. You’re not getting your mirror.” He turns away for the last time now, determined not to let her change his mind.

So he can’t see, but he can hear that she’s turned back into Judy. “Stop! No! I’m so lonely. Don’t go!” There’s a pause before he makes it back over to the wall. “Daddy!” She sounded like Clavia just there. He knows that it’s a trick. It’s easier to see that when you’re aware of the extent of her powers. Still, it’s hard to ignore, and he has to fight his instincts. It takes everything he has to open that door, and leave.

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The Advancement of Mateo Matic: July 6, 2488

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Last year, Mateo spent all day with his three daughters. They went all over the place together, including multiple adventure domes to continue their beta testing commitments. This was what the girls did when they weren’t training with Prince Darko, or relaxing in one of the relaxation areas. The four of them also spent some time in the sunrise pod, which Romana had described the year before. Today, they were all planning on getting a looksee at what Hrockas was tentatively calling Weldome. It was kind of a ridiculous name, but a vital aspect of this planet being a vacation hub. If someone wanted to visit using relativistic ships, it would take them roughly over 100 years, depending on where they started from. Even with a reframe engine, which the stellar neighborhood was developing, it would take a couple of months. The Weldome was packed top to bottom with surrogate pods. Visitors could cast their consciousnesses across the quantum network, and arrive in their pod in minutes.

Weldome—or whatever better name someone managed to come up with—was finished in its original state decades ago, but it wasn’t perfect. A visitor would be expected to show up in a generic cybernetic template, and could print a simulacrum of their face later, or transform their appearance using onboard hologram generators. Alternatively, they could request a clone of their real body by first transmitting their digital DNA ahead of time. This would take months to complete, which in a society of effective immortality, that would be okay for some. People certainly had a history of planning their vacations months in advance. But Ramses knew it could be better. He had written a compression algorithm, which used a technological time bubble to accelerate the development of a clone at alarming speeds. To save on power, this process still took about an hour, but the consciousness lay dormant in the temporary memory core, so the user couldn’t really tell the difference anyway. This was revolutionary technology, and while quantum casting was commonplace elsewhere, no other planet did it so fantastically. This could give Hrockas the edge he needed to become the owner of the number one destination planet in the galaxy.

It was time to test this. Hrockas was in touch with someone he once knew on Earth, who was willing to give it a shot. He was currently in a lab in what was once known as North Korea. The oppressive government collapsed centuries ago, with the southern border being erased from the map. The area was now just as much of a utopia as everywhere else in the world. There was one major special characteristic, where the rules were not the same as other places, though. As stated, quantum casting was ubiquitous, but there were all sorts of regulations and policies that governed how this technology could be used. One aspect of it was that people were still not allowed to permanently send themselves across interstellar space. They had to be using their new substrates as surrogates, even if the transference was permanent in all practical terms. Korea was different. The old body could be destroyed immediately, while the destination could be selected as the truly permanent housing unit for the consciousness. This was controversial, though probably where the law was headed worldwide. As Project Stargate propagated colonization efforts further and further into the Milky Way, it was becoming less reasonable to force people to treat Earth as some sort of homebase, instead of just another planet in the network.

For now, Costa wasn’t planning on destroying his original body on Earth, but because of its unique laws, Korea was still the best place to test any new casting technology without as much scrutiny or interference. He was nearing the end of his hour right now. They were watching the pod put the finishing touches on his new clone body when an alarm went off on Ramses’ watch. “The sentry satellites. They’ve picked up an object entering the star system. Looks like we have company.”

“Are the defense platforms ready?” Hrockas asked.

“It depends on who’s here, and how powerful they are.”

“Take the Dritewing,” Hrockas asked. “You already have authorization.”

Ramses teleported away, and while Mateo wanted to watch the test of the new casting system, he also knew that his friend needed a wingman. He teleported too, to the restricted shipyard where the battleships were kept, along with other related vessels and weapons. The Dritewing was the flagship of the Castlebourne fleet, though it had no current crew, and Hrockas had no idea how to start an army, nor a security contingency. He never thought that he might need one, and mercenaries weren’t really a thing anymore. He was mulling over plans to ask for a group of soldiers and officers from the stellar neighborhood to be stationed here on a permanent basis. Mateo wasn’t even sure whether he had begun discussions with Teagarden, or if it was still only an idea. For now, Mateo and Ramses were on their own. Since Hrockas had the automators build these ships without the team’s involvement, it was lacking in certain superadvanced technologies, namely a teleporter. They had to launch from the ground the old fashioned way, and wait to intercept whatever had invaded their borders in realtime.

Ramses jerked his head around as he was watching the screen, and the sensors. Mateo didn’t know what he was seeing, but it must have been interesting. “It’s a person.”

“How are they surviving out there without a ship?”

“I’m guessing they’re suited up.”

“Can any jetpack move that fast?”

“They may have been going this fast when they stepped out of their ship. Newton’s Law of Inertia. If there’s nothing out there to slow them down, they won’t slow down. Computer, show me their path, and projections.”

A curvy line appeared on the map, eventually turning from white to blue, presumably to show where the flying person was expected to go in the near future.

Ramses’ eyes opened wide. “They’re kissing atmospheres.”

“Why?”

“To slow down. They don’t want to be going this fast. They’re trying to stop.”

“Can we help?

“Sure, we can match speed, and then one of us can teleport out there.”

“I’ll put my helmet on,” Mateo volunteered as Ramses was inputting the new heading. The mysterious visitor was almost through to the other end of the solar system when they were situated for rescue. It was important that they were moving at the exact same speed as the target, or teleporting to them could result in sudden death, being no better than ramming them with the ship at the equivalent difference in speed.

It was easy for Mateo to make one quick jump out there, grab the man who had fallen overboard, and to teleport right back to the bridge of the Dritewing. “Computer, full stimulant,” Mateo heard the stranger order while their respective helmets were still touching for a conductive link. The man breathed in deep with his eyes closed, then opened them. He reached up and removed his helmet. “Thank you for the rescue, or I won’t go down easy. Which is it?”

“It was a rescue,” Mateo assured him. “We mean you no harm.”

The man was apprehensive, but open. “I appreciate that.” He shifted his gaze between Mateo and Ramses. “Report.”

Ramses stepped forward. “You’re on the Castlebourne Battleship Dritewing. We launched to investigate when our sats detected your arrival. We thought you might be a threat. Are you?”

“What’s Castlebourne?”

“It’s the planet we’re on our way back towards.”

“What’s your name?” Mateo asked.

“Officer Azad Petit, mechanic of the Teagarden Recon Frigate Twenty-Four. We were trying to get to Barnard’s Star. It was above my paygrade, but my superiors received word that it was no longer off-limits, so they wanted to check it out.”

“When did your ship launch?” Ramses asked.

“It was 2380.”

Ramses nodded. “That makes sense. In 2369. Leona divulged to the higher-ups that Gatewood was abandoned. It was only a matter of time before they decided to see for themselves.”

“How far off course am I?” Azad asked. “I was living in my IMS for two months.”

“Why?” Mateo asked.

“Ship blew up,” Azad replied. “I have no idea how it happened. In fact, I don’t know that it was destroyed. That was just my guess. I happened to be servicing an airlock at the time, and some kind of explosion knocked me clear of the debris, and slightly off-course. That debris might have ended up where it was going, and I guess I just missed it by a degree or two.”

“Gatewood is roughly on the way out here, yeah,” Ramses confirmed. “Castlebourne is about a hundred and eight light years from Earth. Very smart, trying to use aerobraking maneuvers to slow down.”

Azad shook his head. “I don’t know that it would have been enough. I was trying to find a route that would take me into a complete orbit around one of the planets, so I could start to sort of ping-pong my way back and forth, but I don’t think that would have happened. Thank God you spotted me.”

Mateo shrugged. “Saving people is kind of our jam.”

Azad nodded graciously as he walked over to look out the viewport as they were reentering orbit. “Are those geodesic domes?”

“Yes, tens of thousands of them,” Mateo answered.

“How long has this world been here in secret?”

“It’s not a secret,” Ramses corrected. “Teagarden is aware of it. We’ll land, and I’ll take you to see the owner. He’ll be happy to have a new beta tester, if you’re interested.”

“Beta tester for what?”

“This is a destination world, full of adventure, relaxation, and exploration. You could spend a lifetime here and not yet see everything.” While the concept of life expectancy had become essentially meaningless thanks to advancements in health, medicine, and consciousness transference, among other related technologies, lifetime had taken on a new meaning. Whereas before, it was vague and never more than an estimate, it was now standardized to precisely 120 years. It was all very complicated, and the rules were still arbitrary, but basically, researchers arrived at this number by calculating the expected lifespan of an organic human being in a semi-controlled environment with only certain medical interventions. The archetype for this individual could take regular medicine to treat particular issues, and prevent other issues, but this did not include medical nanites, whole-body diagnostics, or advanced implants. Mateo wasn’t sure if such people still technically existed, but they were probably somewhere, defiant of the status quo, and nostalgic for simpler times.

“I need to check in with my superiors,” Azad said, almost apologetically. “I went AWOL.”

“Did you set the explosion?” Ramses asked. “Did you know it was gonna happen?”

“Of course not!” Azad insisted.

“Did you turn off your communication system while you were adrift?” Ramses pressed.

“No, I was sending out a distress signal the whole time.”

“Then you’re not AWOL,” Ramses reasoned. “You’re either MIA or KIA, but you’re not AWOL.”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right,” Azad admitted while clearly still nervous.

“I’m certain that Hrockas will give you access to a quantum terminal,” Mateo told him. “Terminus!” he exclaimed. “That’s what they should call the dome with all the clone pods, and stuff.”

“Yeah,” Ramses agreed, “that’s better than Weldome.”

After they landed the Dritewing, Ramses held out his hand towards Azad to teleport him to Castledome. Azad reached back, saying, “um...hello. We shake with our right hands where I’m from. Has that much changed in a century?”

“No, I just made a mistake,” Ramses covered. “We better get on the train.” They were so used to just being honest about their superpowers, it was easy to forget that the majority of the population didn’t know anything about them. While The Edge meeting determined that the vonearthans would be given certain upgrades, they were framed as quantum leaps in technological advancements. It was never the plan to publicize the true origins of them. Mateo, Ramses, and Azad got on the train, but the rest of the group was still in Terminus, or whatever they ended up calling it, so they just went right back there.

The quantum casting test subject had arrived while they were gone, and was currently in the acclimation room. This was a safe space, designed with a calming aesthetic, and access to medical supplies, if needed. By the time the three guys showed up, Costa was fine. This room was more of a precaution than anything. Casting could be disorienting, but shouldn’t require a lot of recovery time or tools. From here, a normal visitor would move on to one of the orientation rooms, which was also where they would receive their housing information, and the appropriate access codes. Costa wasn’t going to go through all that, though. He was just here to make sure that the transmission was successful. They had no reason to think that it wouldn’t be, but these pods had to be thoroughly tested before the Earthan government would allow full-scale networking incorporation.

Azad was the last to step into the room. He immediately stood up straight, and pulled his hand into a salute. “Sergeant Whinawray. Officer Azad Petit, reporting in after an unscheduled long-term absence. Your orders, sir!”

“At ease, Officer,” Costa replied.

Azad struggled for a moment, but did manage to relax.

“I take it you two know each other,” Ramses said, trying to cut the tension with humor.

“No orders,” Costa went on. “I need to sleep, and I’m guessing you do as well. We’ll debrief in the morning unless we, or someone else, is in immediate danger.”

“Not to my knowledge, sir,” Azad replied.

“I’m retired, Officer,” Costa clarified. “No sir necessary.”

“With respect, sir, that’s not how it works,” Azad contended.

Hrockas turned to address one of the hospitality bots. “Assign them both Imperial Suites in the Palacium Hotel.”

“There is only one Imperial Suite available,” the bot explained. “You weren’t yet sure whether it should be one of the unique units, or a class.”

“Do we have a Royal Suite available?” Hrockas pressed.

“Yes,” the bot confirmed.

“Great. Officer Petit, you’ll be in one of the Royal Suites.”

“That’s really not necessary,” Azad said.

“Sir,” Hrockas began, “this planet is designed to accommodate hundreds of billions of people. There are currently about a couple dozen. We can spare one Royal Suite. I can’t have it getting out that one of my first customers slept in a paltry king-sized bed, or something. Don’t forget to fill out your feedback card, though, thanks!”

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