Showing posts with label immortality. Show all posts
Showing posts with label immortality. Show all posts

Wednesday, March 4, 2026

Microstory 2618: The Way is Clear, the Beetle Knows the Way

Generated by Google Gemini Pro text-to-video AI software, powered by Veo 3.1
Almost straight east, another kilometer and a half away, in the direction of the planet’s night side, lay another manmade structure. Since it would have been so far out of the group’s way, Breanna decided that a detour would require a unanimous vote. Last time, they received one when they didn’t need it, and this time, they needed it, but didn’t get it. Less than half were willing to risk it, so they elected not to. Those who voted in favor of it were not upset or argumentative. They accepted the results, and moved on.
They have continued on their way northwest, trying to head in the general direction of the pole while also hoping to run into a dome, or one of the tunnels used to connect the disparate domes to each other. After hours, they finally see it, and decide to forgo their break in lieu of pushing forward to reach their interim goal. They’ve become more accustomed to their suits, though they still feel very confining. Even Breanna and Cash have had just about enough. They’re designed to operate indefinitely, but changing human psychology is a different challenge altogether.
“I think I see a person up there,” a passenger notes, looking towards the spine. It is a massive structure, snaking through the land, made to transport people and supplies along walking corridors, vactrain tubes, or sometimes chairlifts for steep climbs. Breanna isn’t extremely familiar with the inner workings of these structures, but while she can’t quite make out someone standing on the top herself, there is surely a way up there on the exterior. The megaengineers responsible for all this infrastructure tried to plan for everything. Everything but a worldwide cataclysm apparently.
“I see it too,” someone else declares.
Breanna reaches up and extends the magnification on her helmet to its extreme limit, and is able to see a silhouette, but no detail. “Whoever they are, they’re not wearing any protective gear.” She looks over at Aeterna.
Aeterna smiles. “I told you he was alive.”
“We don’t know that that’s him,” Breanna says. “Unless you have some reason to believe that you’re the only two insanely invincible immortals in the universe.”
“No, of course not. They’re just probably not on Proxima Doma, or in this time period.” That doesn’t make much sense. If they can’t die, why wouldn’t there be just as many—this doesn’t make sense at all. She’s choosing not to question it, however, because it’s hurting her head, and she probably doesn’t really want to know.
They get close enough to resolve a face, and just as they suspected, it is indeed Tertius Valerius. He’s smiling like he doesn’t have a care in the world, waving to them gleefully, pointing towards some particular part of the spine that he’s standing on, and beckoning them forwards. As they draw even nearer, they discover that there’s a fully functioning escalator on the side, which they use to reach the top and reunite with him. He and his daughter hug, but not particularly exuberantly. Neither of them is surprised. Why would they be? As they keep saying, they can’t die. She hands him an extra mask so he can utilize the radio, and tell them all what happened since they lost contact.
Everyone wants to know how Tertius survived the ordeal. He claims that there’s not much to tell. He just did because that’s what he does. Once the cyclone was over, he got up from the ground, and just started walking, hoping to catch up with everyone eventually. He makes it sound so simple. They have more questions, but Breanna understands their priorities. “Did you check the interior? Are there working vactrains?”
He shakes his head. “Not in the one behind us, nor the one in front, but there’s a maintenance railcar a little bit farther down. It’s not meant for people, so there aren’t any seats, but we can make it work. It’s for repairing the exterior, so it will go all along the perimeter of each dome, but if you do the math, I’m guessing it adds up to being faster and easier than walking. You’ll want to find something to hold onto as I do not believe the floor is ferromagnetic.” He turns and starts walking away. “Come on.”
He leads them farther down, towards the other end of the spine, and then down some steps on the side opposite of where they came from, where there are tiny little baby train tracks, and a small railcart. “Are we...gonna fit?” Cash questions.
“Oh, this is a maintenance drone.” Tertius waves his arms around the giant machine occupying the majority of the railcart. “I can’t pull it off, I was assuming you had tools to take care of it. There will be enough room once we get rid of it.”
Brenna holds her fist in front of the drone, and taps on her wrist interface. It suddenly springs to life, unlocking itself from the dock, and using its six little legs to skitter off of the railcart, onto the tracks behind them.
Cash bends over and pats the beetloid on its head. “Good girl. Good girl. Now, stay here, and try not to get swallowed up by the infinte abyss.”
“It can’t hear you through the suit,” Breanna says.
“She knows what I’m saying,” Cash claims.
They all climb onto the railcart, and find various components to hold onto. There actually is one ferromagnetic spot. It’s the hatch that leads to the engine. Breanna stands there so Tertius and Aeterna can stand in front of her, using her as a backboard. A couple of other passengers hold onto her arms and neck. Cash is the only one sitting so she can operate the controls, which were originally designed to be manipulated by giant beetle robot claws. She has to ramp up the speed slowly, because even though their suits offer them protection, they don’t exactly have inertial dampeners. A drone will normally just punch it and go, but as humans, they need a little more time to ease into it. She also needs to watch for the curves, and slow down appropriately and safely. Her onboard AI is telling her when and how, but she has to physically do it herself.
“Boss?” the guy they rescued from the other rover asks Breanna. “How do I do that thing where I just talk to one person?”
“You’ve done it,” she replies. “We’re talking one-on-one.”
“I mean with, umm...Tertius,” he clarifies.
“Oh, he just has a regular radio transceiver, so he can talk to everyone or no one.”
“I wanted to apologize for what happened...for...what I did. For what he had to do for me. It’s not that I don’t want anyone to hear what I say. I guess it just feels like I would be performing. I really just wanna have a private conversation with my savior.”
“While Cash is keeping the railcart going, I’m linking up with the dome systems as we run along them. I’m hoping we end up finding one with a fully operational train station, so we can get into one of the vacuum pods, and go a hell of a lot faster than this. You will have a chance to speak with him quietly, even if it’s not until we reach the northern pole.”
“Okay, thanks, I appreciate it.” The guy never gets his chance.

Tuesday, March 3, 2026

Microstory 2617: Leave it Alone as it is Neither Useful Nor Worth It

Generated by Google Flow text-to-video AI software, powered by Veo 3.1, and Google Gemini Pro, powered by Lyria 3
August 24, 2526. The passengers are wildly impressed with how easy it is to walk over the land. The Integrated Multipurpose Suits aren’t just fancy, thin vacuum suits. They are made of multiple layers, one of which is specifically designed for muscular support. It’s composed of extremely strong threads, woven together to mimic the arrangement of natural muscles. You can feel yourself taking it step by step, and it’s not like it doesn’t burn any calories at all, but it definitely feels like your arms and legs are tied to an invisible friends who is doing the majority of the work for you. So, it’s great. Despite the fact that the world is ending, everyone mostly feels like they’re going to make it. There is just one other little problem.
What the guy in the other rover was feeling was claustrophobia, but being outside like this has not diminished that. They’re all experiencing a very common psychological phenomenon called encapsulation anxiety. In order to be able to move around freely while being protected by the IMS, the user must inherently sacrifice their freedom within the suit. That’s actually why it became more common for people to just wear them all the time. Even if you don’t use your helmet and gloves unless you need them, experts recommend growing comfortable with your suit; even sometimes emotionally attached to it. The passengers here do not have that luxury. This is their first time, and it’s freaking them out. Luckily, there are safeguards in place, which stop them from being able to start removing components on their own in such a hostile environment, but a few of them have tried, driven purely by their panic and instinct.
These two aspects of the journey are at odds with each other. The muscular support layer, and other lifesaving features, are allowing them to keep walking for an extended period of time. The cleithrophobia, however, is making it hard to do that psychologically. They have had to take multiple breaks just to let people move around less encumbered. There were two vacuum tents in the rover. One of them fell out of its case, and was damaged in the wreck, so they only have one, but it’s better than nothing. They can all technically fit in it at the same time, they just have to take turns stretching and sprawling. They need to sleep anyway, though, so Breanna has decided to take these frequent stops as an opportunity to encourage a segmented sleep schedule. None of them has done that before—except for Cash, who worked many split shifts on the Sentinel—but everyone has napped, and they understand the stakes, so they’re figuring it out. They have no choice. They would still rather find transportation.
“I see something up there.” They’ve been walking in a sort of random formation. Just like the caravan, Breanna and Cash aren’t always in the front.
“What is it?” Breanna asks.
The passenger is up on a ridge while everyone else is still behind it. “Uhh...the magnification on this head up thing says two kilometers. I don’t know what that means, and I can’t actually tell what it is. The little man in here says it’s artificial because of ninety degrees?”
“Yeah, nature doesn’t really make ninety-degree angles,” Breanna explains. “It’s probably a manmade structure of some kind. It could be a permanent outpost, or it could be debris that got thrown around, just like we did. Is it in the same direction that we’re headed?”
“It’s a little out of our way,” the passenger replies. “You’ll have to decide whether we go for it, or keep trying to find those connecting spine things that the domes have.”
Breanna makes it over the ridge, and looks out at what he’s seeing. She squints her eyes, but it’s obviously not going to help. If the sensors can’t identify, she’s certainly not going to be able to. “This is one of those voting times we talked about yesterday. Everyone needs to get up here and take a look. Then we’ll raise our hands for who wants to go check it out. “We don’t just need a majority, but a supermajority. That means eight out of the ten of us need to agree.”
She waits for everyone to get a good look at the difference between the main quest and the side quest, and then they take a vote. It’s unanimous because it’s not too far out of their way, and it could lead to their salvation. The answer turns out to be rather complicated. Once they reach the object, they find that it’s a partially sunken, dusted over rover. A quick link-up shows that it was one of the ones from the caravan. There are no bodies inside, alive or dead. The assumption is they got stuck, and had to get out. The question is whether the other rovers let them distribute amongst them, or if there forced to go on foot, just like Breanna’s ragtag team. Optimism says the former, of course. That’s one reason why they deliberately grouped Breckenridgers and Levins together. They wanted everyone to have some kind of connection to every other vehicle, so if some crap like this happened, no one would get screwed.
The other feeling of optimism is that the caravan managed to get out at all. It might have just been this one vehicle, and maybe another, but one can hope that all of them survived the thermal cyclone, and are continuing northwards where it’s safe. That is what Breanna and Cash are choosing to believe right now. They’ve been growing close over the last couple of days. As harrowing as their adventure has been, the walking portion has been rather uneventful. You have to spend your time doing something. Some people are just watching TV on their HUDs, but the two leaders have been talking, and wishing they were friends prior to this. Maybe something more? Breanna knows that it’s not the time to push for anything like that right now. Survival is paramount.
“Can it be fixed?” one of the passengers asks.
“You know this stuff better than we do,” another adds. “Maybe they abandoned it because they didn’t know what they were doing.”
“We’re not mechanics either,” Breanna admits. “So we’re not the ones to ask. There’s one among us who would know best.” She chuckles when they look at Aeterna, the weird immortal. “Not her. Thistle, damage report.”
The vehicle could be repaired, but it would have to be dislodged from the mud first. There is no equipment available to perform such a maneuver. Recommendation: salvage anything left inside, and return to the trek.
“Thank you, Thistle,” Breanna says. “I’m overriding that recommendation,” she says to the people. “Our friends who were in this car weren’t stupid. They would have taken anything valuable, and I can’t vouch for the stability of this thing. So we leave it alone, and leave. I’m not taking votes on it this time. It is not worth the risk.”
“We might need to vote on this, though” the guy they rescued from the other rover says, looking out on the horizon.
“What is it?”
“More ninety degrees...and far out of our way.”

Monday, March 2, 2026

Microstory 2616: You Awaken in the Wreckage With No Choice but to Go On

Generated by Google Gemini Pro text-to-video AI software, powered by Veo 3.1
August 23, 2526. Breanna wakes up, still feeling the slight sting on her neck where her suit revitalized her. The IMS isn’t a full-on medical pod, but it does have waysof repairing a damaged body, from some trauma that might be caused despitethe presence of the suit in the first place. She’s not in too much pain, butit’s all over. Her suit won’t administer a painkiller automatically, because it requires the user’s permission. She could theoretically ask for an opioid, though she won’t. She sits up. “Thistle, Administer one dose of a comprehensive pain silencer. No, two doses. I need twenty-four hours at least.”
Would you like an endorphin stimulator as well?
“No. It’s fine.” She lies back down so the suit can flash its laser beams all over her skin. She groans as it’s happening, but is able to stop once it’s complete. She then stands up in the wreckage, finding herself on the ceiling of the vehicle. Her friends and the other passengers are strewn about. “Thistle, why weren’t we strapped in?”
The safety straps were causing unwanted and unhealthy pressure on the users’ suits. They were only released upon landing. Everyone is alive and recovering. As leader, you were revived prematurely to make further decisions.
“Wake everyone else up as appropriate. Tell me what’s going on, inside and out.”
Location, unknown. Status of vehicle, irreparably damaged. Situation, dire. Medical prognoses, manageable.
Breanna manages to find the back hatch, and open it. The surface of the planet is relatively calm, but the tornadoes could be lying in wait. “Options.”
Walking.
She chuckles. “Thanks. That’s great.” She takes a beat as she’s watching the wind blow the dust around. “Do you detect a methane deposit below us, or near us?”
The vehicle’s sensor array is inoperable, and would be insufficient either way.
“So, you can’t find the caravan either?”
Negative.
“Lifesigns detector,” Breanna continues. “Look for anyone or anything.”
None found.
There are no more questions to ask, and she can’t make any decisions without the passengers, so she commands her IMS to focus the padding to the back, then lies down to wait. A few hours later, Cash wakes her up, thinking that she’s the last one.
“We’re lost,” Cash explains.
“I know.”
“The rover can’t be fixed.”
“I know,” Breanna repeats, but louder. “I was up before you. I just took a nap.”
“Oh. Well, what now? Do we go out and look for Tertius and Aeterna’s bodies?”
“Aeterna? We lost Aeterna?”
“She’s not here,” Cash replies. “I thought you said you knew everything already.”
“I did a headcount. I thought she was one of these people.”
“Did you remember to count the guy who we rescued from the other rover?”
“Oh, I forgot. Shit. I guess father and daughter are both dead.” Breanna looks at all the passengers, who are apparently gathering supplies. “Good instincts, everybody. We’re gonna have to head out on foot. Carry what you can. Nothing in here is useless, but use your best judgment, and prioritize. Food and water are most important, but if you find any vacuum tents, those are great too.” She yawns as she’s trying to continue. “Don’t worry about power. Your suits will recharge in all that flurry out there. I’m not gonna try to explain fusion or ramscoop nodes to you, but just trust me.”
Most of them go to work, but one sits down on the ceiling. They look depressed, but it’s hard to tell without being able to see a face. “Are you him...the one from the other rover?”
“The asshole who got your friend killed? Yeah,” he answers.
Breanna sits down next to him, and taps on both of their wrist interfaces so they can have a one-on-one conversation through comms. “Tell me what happened.”
“I can’t, I don’t remember it.” He sighs. “That’s not entirely true, but it was like a dream. I knew where I was, and I knew that I was as safe as I was gonna get. I just felt so trapped. I started panicking, reaching out for anything that could change my circumstances. My hands landed on the door handle, so I opened it, and ran out. I don’t know what I thought I would find out there. I don’t know that I entirely understood that I even was outside. I just needed to be able to move around. I’m so sorry. Someone suggested they lock me to one of the seats, but the others argued against it, because there could have been a situation where we all needed to escape. But they should have done it. They should have stopped me. I know, that makes it sound like I’m blaming them. I just wish they had. I wish they had been unforgiving about it.”
“Nothing like this has ever happened before,” Breanna begins. “I mean that truthfully. Earth, in its history, has seen its fair share of refugees, but absolutely nothing at this scale. An entire planet has never been in this much trouble. Our ancestors colonized it despite the instability of our host star because they thought they understood it. They thought they knew the risks. They were wrong. I’m far angrier at them than I am at you. You didn’t sign up for this. You reacted in a very human way, and I’m sure, if Tertius or his daughter were here, they would forgive you. They risked their lives to save people like you, even though it sounds like they didn’t know anyone personally. They seemingly did sign up for this.”
The guy is still clearly down on himself, but she’s not a therapist, so all they can do is hope to find their way back to civilization, and get him some real help. As they’re finishing packing up to take what they can, Aeterna casually opens the back hatch, and climbs back in. She is wearing a respirator mask over her mouth, but has removed the parts that go over her eyes. She’s presumably only using it for comms.
“Where did you go?” Breanna questions.
“Sorry, I was just looking for my dad. I didn’t go too far, I figured once you guys woke up, I would start hearing you talking to each other.”
“Comms are down. Radio waves are very minimal right now,” Breanna explains.
Aeterna nods. “Well, I’m back. Hopefully we’ll come across him eventually.
“I’m sorry about him,” Breanna says softly.
“Eh, it’ll be okay,” Aeterna says, not the least bit perturbed. “He knows we’re going north, so either we’ll pick up his trail, or he’ll pick up ours.”
“You think he’s alive?” Cash asks.
“He has to be,” Aeterna answers with a chuckle. “We’ve been trying to explain that. We can’t die.”

Tuesday, February 10, 2026

Microstory 2602: Hrockas Steward Stops at the Door and Waits

Generated by Pollo AI text-to-video AI software
Hrockas Steward stops at the door and waits. Renata just spent nine months in her chrysalis, but she wasn’t sleeping. It was a taxing and tiring ordeal, so she has had to sleep for nearly a day. She agreed to let Telman monitor her vitals constantly for the time being, and it is showing that she is awake again. He’s not sure if he should knock, though. Quidel’s tracker is showing at this location too, so they’re probably together. According to Telman, nothing is indicating that she’s undergoing strenuous activity the likes of which two people might do together in private, but it’s only been a day, so they’re still trying to establish her baseline.
Renata opens the door. “You know I can see you on my doorcam, right?”
“Sorry, I just didn’t wanna disturb you.” He can see inside her room, where Quidel is stretching, in a way that makes it look like they were only sleeping.
“It’s fine, I’m feeling much better now. What’s up?”
“I just wanted to give you a gift,” Hrockas explains.
She looks down at herself. “Isn’t my new substrate the gift?”
“Uh, no, that was ethically compulsory on our part. We destroyed your old one, and even if we hadn’t, they’re free.”
“Oh. Well, I don’t need a gift. I just wanna figure out what my life looks like now.”
“That’s what this gift is for.” As Renata steps off to the side, Hrockas looks over at Quidel. “Mister Jesperson, you’re welcome to tag along. It might affect you too.”
Quidel sits up with a yawn, then sticks his tongue out like he’s just tasted something unpalatable, but he’s really just still tired. He shuts his eyes, and falls back on the bed.
“I have a bit too much, uh...stamina for him,” Renata discloses.
“I see,” Hrockas says awkwardly.
She throws on a shirt and some pants. “Let’s go.”
Hrockas teleports them both to a hangar, about fifty meters from her gift, which is covered in a tarp. They start walking towards it. “Some friends of mine are upgrading their shuttles. There’s nothing wrong with the old ones, but the technology doesn’t quite fit their intergalactic missions. Instead of trying to cast yourself to another world, or spend extensive periods of time on cyclers, I thought maybe you would like a way to take shortcuts.” He snaps his fingers. The pulley system engages, and moves the tarp to reveal the purple beauty. “Renata Granger, may I introduce you to...The Aerie.”
Renata admires it. “This is for me?”
“I have no use for it myself. I’ll be on Castlebourne ‘til the stars burn out.”
“You said something about shortcuts?”
He nods. “Mm-hmm. You could reach Earth in about two months.”
A hatch opens, and a woman climbs out. “It’s called a reframe engine,” she says. She approaches the two of them. “Hi, I’m Brooke Prieto.” She shakes Renata’s hand, and then looks over at Hrockas. “Unfortunately, due to its small size, it can’t go at full reframe speeds. If you try to get back to Earth, it’s gonna take you about five years. It’s still better than a hundred and eight, though, right?” She grimaces a little.
“It’s fine with me.” Renata looks at Hrockas too. “I’m apparently immortal now.”
“That you are,” Hrockas agrees. “Anyway, I’ll let you two get acquainted. I have some other business to take care of, but don’t leave without saying goodbye.”
“Thank you, Steward Steward.”
He smiles. “No. Thank you.” He teleports away.
“Did you get everything squared away with Ren and the boy?” Azad asks.
“She’s got her ship. I think she’ll leave to explore the real world for a change. Castlebourne is a symbol of her entrapment, even if she isn’t conscious of that. I can’t imagine he won’t go with her.”
“That just leaves the Marshal,” Azad points out.
“Samani is a soldier,” Hrockas reasons. “He’ll fall in line. I don’t think he’ll be a problem. I don’t trust him enough to read him in, but if we ever have to use the thing, I doubt he’ll cause us problems.”
Azad nods. They’re silent for a moment.
“Did you figure out where the next component is?”
“Not for a fact, but all signs are pointing to Underbelly.”
“If we can’t get the people to vote to move the sun to a new location, we may need it, but we still have time before the Exin armada arrives.”
“Ya know, there would be a benefit to us keeping the Granger girl around. If she can shut down entire simulations with nothing but a thought, she could be of use to us. Not even you have that power.”
Hrockas shakes his head. “I don’t have that power by design. It raises too many questions. I’m still fending off reporters who want to know what the hell happened in the Spydome Network.” He shakes his head more aggressively. “No. These domes stay as they are. We follow their rules, and we let the stories play out naturally. As I said, we have time.”
“We don’t have infinite time, though,” Azad reminds him.
“Yeah, I know. Just keep looking for the other components, and do it quietly.”
“Okay.” Azad’s watch beeps. “Superintendent Glarieda needs something again.”
“Go ahead,” Hrockas encourages. “Assure him that we’ll make sure the votes go our way, one way or another.”
“You want me to say it like that?”
“Obviously not.”
“What should I do with this thing?” Azad asks.
They both look down at the device sitting on the table. “Granger still has access to the lab, and might need to return there for check-ups while she’s still on-world. She can’t know that we didn’t destroy it. She went through a lot to prevent her own mother from using it. She won’t approve of us using it either. Take it to Delta Outpost. But that can wait. See what Dreychan needs first.”

Friday, February 6, 2026

Microstory 2600: Quidel Teleports Into Lycander’s Office

Generated by Google Flow text-to-video AI software, powered by Veo 3.1
Quidel teleports into Lycander’s office. He must have somehow gathered momentum during transit, because he immediately falls into the guest chair, breaking one leg off of it completely, and leaving another holding on by a thread. “Sorry, I don’t know what happened.”
Lycander shakes his head. “You can’t jump to just anywhere you want. If you select an off-limits destination, it will reroute you to the nearest authorized space. This time, it was my office. I don’t know why you fell. You might just need to take up yoga to learn balance.”
“I was trying to go to a remote island in Polar Tropica. There wouldn’t have been anyone there to spot me.”
Lycander shakes his head at this. “The whole dome is a no-go zone. Take the train. You have an express pass now too.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah. This is more fun,” Quidel contends. “Wouldn’t you agree?”
“Look, we’re in the inner circle now; the Executive Administrative Authority. Hrockas is trusting us to be smart, be responsible, and behave. He gave you that snazzy new body of yours, he can take it away. And the guy who gave the technology to him? Well, I imagine he can take it away too.”
“All right, I get it, I’ll be careful.” He looks down at the destruction he cause. “Hey, why is this made of wood?”
Lycander shrugs. “I like antiques.”
“Right. Well, I still want my beach getaway, so I guess I’m gonna go find a train. Ugh, it’s so tedious. I can’t believe I used to think the vactrain network was the fastest way to travel.”
“Hey, wait. I’m glad you’re here anyway,” Lycander says. “I have some news, which you may have already heard. After nine months of auditing and diagnostics, they’re reopening the Spydome Network. They’re restarting the story from the moment Renata shut it down. Anyone in-sim at the time will be able to go back and pick up right where they left off. If you don’t sign up by the end of the week, though, they’ll replace your character with an Exemplar. I think Demo’s gonna do it.”
Quidel clears his throat uncomfortably. “It’s like you said, we have real jobs now; we don’t play games.”
“I always had a real job,” Lycander reminds him.
“Does that mean you’re going back?”
“Not a chance.”
Quidel nods. “I suppose we’re on the same page then.”
“I suppose.”
Both of their devices beep at once. They look at them. “We’re in the same group chat too. What do you think Hrockas wants?”
Lycander stands, and starts to walk around the desk. “He was probably alerted to your illegal teleportation attempt.” He taps his wristband to Quidel’s watch to sync up. “Let’s go together so it doesn’t accidentally happen again.” He spirits them both away.
They land in Hrockas’ office. Another guy is there, who Quidel recognizes, but hasn’t spoken to yet. “Thank you for coming,” Hrockas says. “First off, let me officially introduce you both to Dominus Azad Petit of the Castlebourne Charter Contingency.”
Azad is sitting on the edge of Hrockas’ back counter. He clicks his tongue, and waves two fingers at them as a greeting, but doesn’t say anything.
“Dominus Petit will lead one regiment of soldiers to war, should it come to that. You’ll recall, I informed you of the outside threat that we face?”
“I remember it, yes,” Lycander confirms.
“Yeah,” Quidel replies at the same time.
“Yes, well, we’re having trouble with that,” Hrockas goes on. “The original plan was to run and hide, but not everyone agrees with that tactic, so we’re currently at a standstill. As a major proponent of the original plan, I have become a threat to that internal opposition. Dominus Petit has assigned himself as my personal bodyguard....” He gives Azad the side eye. “...despite the fact that we are all immortal.”
“It is not impossible to kill an immortal,” Azad argues.
“Whenever you’re in my presence, sir, you can count on me to protect your life as well, and your substrate,” Lycander promises, like he’s pledging his fealty to the king. Perhaps it’s just the spirit of the environment. This is, after all, Castledome.
“Uh, same here,” Quidel agrees.
Hrockas smiles and laughs. “That’s very kind of you, but that’s not where I was going with this. No, I was leading you down a path to the real topic of the day.” He gestures in the general direction of their wrists. “Please remove your devices, so your location can’t be tracked.
They do as they’re asked.
Azad stands up. “Needless to say, this area is top secret, as is what you’re about to see. I’m sure you won’t want to break confidence at any rate. Huddle up.” The other three lean over under his arms when he raises them up. He alone activates his teleporter, and brings them all along.
They land in a lab. A man who Quidel recognizes is working on some sort of sciency stuff on a table nearby. “Custodian Number One!” Quidel acknowledges. “I didn’t know I would ever see you again.”
“Likewise sir, but per your advice, I go by Telman now.”
“I’m glad to hear it, Telman.”
“Room Two, Telman,” Hrockas instructs.
“Certainly, sir.” Telman spins around, and approaches a door behind him. He uses his biometrics to unlock it, and let them in.
The room is dark and humid. Hrockas orders the lights to come on, and they do. They hear a sort of groan coming from the only object of note in here. It’s a...pod of some kind; translucent and shiny, hanging from the ceiling. It’s quite majestic. As Quidel moves side-to-side, the colors morph and shimmer. Hrockas approaches and knocks on it like it’s a door. “Miss Granger? Are you ready to come out?”
“Five more minutes,” a muffled voice complains.
“I got an alert. The chrysalis knows when it’s time,” Hrocaks says in a sing-songy voice. “And it’s time,” he adds.
She groans again.
“Your friends are here. They’re anxious to see you. They thought you were dead.”
Renata lets out a protracted low whine, and then punches through the membrane with a grunt.

Monday, January 19, 2026

Microstory 2586: Renata Hurdles Over the Railing, and Rushes Over to Polly

Generated by Google Gemini Pro text-to-video AI software, powered by Veo 3.1
Renata hurdles over the railing, and rushes over to Polly. She places her hand upon his, adding pressure to keep the blood inside. There’s so much blood, though. No one can survive this; not all the way out here in the middle of nowhere.
“It’s not good,” he ekes out. “I’m not gonna make it.”
“Not with that attitude,” Renata scolds him. “Boot and rally. Fight through it.”
“I can feel my ribs scraping against each other!” Polly complains. He moves his hand off of the wound, flipping it over to hold Renata’s. “I just don’t wanna die alone.”
Renata begins to tear up as she’s squeezing his hand back. She looks down at the destruction made by the buckshot. She expects to see his ribs, and she suspects that that’s kind of what they are, but instead of being porous white, they’re smooth and silvery. It’s metal. “This man is made of metal.”
“What?” Polly questions.
Renata looks up at her mom, who is somewhat casually walking up to them. “Is he a robot?”
Libera smiles, not sadistically, but maybe triumphantly? “You’re not supposed to be able to see that. You’re supposed to see what a normal person would expect to see, but now you’re mind is opening up. You’re realizing the truth.”
“Is he a robot!” Renata repeats angrily.
“Yes!” Libera shouts back, matching her energy before calming down. “He is.”
“Am I a robot too!”
“No. You’re something else.”
“You keep saying that! You’re so vague. Fuck you, mom!” Renata looks back down at Polly. “You’re gonna be okay. And I’m not just saying that to make you feel better in your final moments. This isn’t real. That’s not blood. That’s not pain. This is just a simulation, and whatever you’re feeling is only part of a program. All you have to do is choose the truth. Simply switch off the pain. For someone built like you, it’s only minor damage. It can’t affect your mind, or your life. You can’t die from it. So ignore it. Turn. Off. The. Pain.”
Polly has been staring into her eyes as he listens to her instructions, supposedly choking on his own blood. His gaze drifts away, but only for a second before returning to her. At last, he exhales, and looks peaceful. Confused but pleased, he looks down at his now clearly minor damage, and begins to smile. Then he nods. “You’re right. This isn’t real. I can’t die; not from something stupid like this.”
Renata leans back and pops back up to her feet as Polly does the same.
“Holy shit,” Libera says, even more happy than before. “I didn’t know you could do that. I didn’t even think I could do that.”
“It’s a robot thing, you wouldn’t get it,” Renata decides.
“Wouldn’t I?” Libera pulls out a butterfly knife, and starts flicking it around to show off her skills. She sticks it in her arm, and drags it upwards. Then she pulls the skin away to show her own metal arm.
“What the hell?” Renata yells. “Is anyone real?”
“We’re all real,” Libera claims. “Even this guy apparently.”
“Are we all not human?” Renata corrects herself for a better answer.
Libera sighs, presumably done with the charade. “The three of us aren’t, in a technical sense, though with advances in genetic and neural engineering, the differences are ultimately meaningless, according to most laws. Essentially, while we may not be human, we’re still people. I’m not sure humans even exist anymore if we’re using the original, strictest definition.”
“Most laws?” Renata questions. “There are laws about us? How would I have never heard of them before? And what happened to the humans? Did we kill all of them, and I had my memories erased? Or was I created after the apocalypse? What the hell is going on?”
Libera can’t help but chuckle. “There was no apocalypse. Everyone’s fine. I’m just saying that birthed intelligences, like Mister Samani, and your friend Quidel, aren’t like the humans of several centuries ago. They’re also enhanced, in their own ways, but probably more organically. I’m not sure, I’ve not seen their primary substrate specs.”
Renata shakes her head. “I don’t understand. What’s real, what isn’t?”
“The spirit of your question—which is coming from a place of ignorance—is what about your life actually happened, and what didn’t. The truth is, I’m sorry to say, almost nothing of what you’ve experienced ever actually happened. You were created about a couple of decades ago, and you’ve been running the same handful of scripts ever since. You didn’t grow up, you’ve never aged. Until recently, your life has been part of a simulation, designed for the amusement of people like Quidel.”
“So this is a game, and he’s a player.”
“Pretty much,” Libera confirms.
“And Lycander?”
“He works here. He recites scripts too, but he knows that they’re scripts.”
“So Quidel plays superspy for half a day before unplugging, and going home? Meanwhile, Lycander works his job before also unplugging, and also going home?”
“No, this is an immersive experience. Visitors are supposed to stay inside for an extended period of time. Quidel will probably be here for thirty years, unless he gets bored, and goes to explore some other simulation, or just relaxes on the beach.”
“How does anyone have time for that?” Renata knows that they should probably get the hell out of here, but she has so many questions, and for the first time in her—well, she has never had a real life, but those implanted memories are still there, and this still feels like a relief. So for the first time in her life, she’s finally getting answers. They’re on a roll, so she’s not going to stop unless someone or something forces her too. “You spend half your life pretending to be a secret agent, and that’s pretty much all you do before you die? What about money?”
“They don’t use money anymore, everything’s free. And they mostly don’t die anymore either. As I said, they’re advanced.”
Renata shakes her head again. “I need to speak with the two of them. Let’s pause the game, and take a breather.”
“You can’t pause the game. This is just a world, and people live in it.”
“But the MacGuffin isn’t real. It doesn’t matter. Quidel would know that.”
“Oh, no. The machine they’re protecting is quite real. And I need it.”
“Why?”
“You’re not ready for that one yet.” And there it is. The conversation is over.

Saturday, January 17, 2026

Castlebourne Capital Community: The Man Who Refused To Die (Part III)

Generated by Pollo AI text-to-video AI software
The Castlebourners were mad, and they had every right to be. Dreychan didn’t commit a cardinal sin, but he did screw up. As soon as the rest of the council was arrested for conspiracy to commit murder, he should have addressed the people. He knew how to do that. At any one time, they were spread all over the world, but he had the means of contacting them separately from all the visitors. These visitors mostly didn’t know that the refugees were from 16,000 light years away as that went against everything they understood about physics and space colonization. The lie that they spread about a closer empire was weak at best, but it was the only lie they had. At some point, the full truth about time travel was probably going to get out to the general public, but for now, Dreychan should have used the news bulletin protocol. But. It had only been one day, and it didn’t spell the destruction of the whole planet, so everyone just needed to chill out.
He finally escaped the angry crowd of wannabe journalists, and ducked into the council chambers. His speech to them wasn’t half bad, if he could be so bold as to evaluate it himself. Perhaps they felt otherwise, or this was just such a crazy situation that no one knew what to think, or how to react. He took a deep breath as he leaned his head against the door, still hearing them rabble rabble in the corridor. No one else was allowed in here. He used to dread coming to this room, now it had become his one place of respite. How had things changed so much in only a matter of a few days? He breathed through the inner turmoil, and turned back around. “Who are you?”
The elderly woman wearing what appeared to be a robot costume stepped forward, and extended a hand. “Yunil Tereth, big fan.”
“How did you get in here?” Dreychan questioned. “It’s DNA coded.”
“Twins have the same DNA. My sister was on the Council. I always could have walked in here. I just never had the occasion.”
“Who could possibly be your twin sister?” There were some fairly old people on the Council, but none of them quite this old. He was surprised that she could even stand up on her own.
“Lubiti. Now, I know what you’re thinking...why don’t we have the same last name?” She giggled. “We never really got along, so when we chose our names, we deliberately distanced ourselves.”
“I was actually thinking...” Was it offensive to bring up her age?
She giggled again. “When I heard the news, I was in Perspectidome, where you spend time in someone else’s proverbial shoes, to better understand what their life would be like. This is only a temporary substrate. Thank God I chose to make it my older self, instead of just any old lady, so my DNA works. Pay no attention to the outfit. My character had a backstory that was out of my control.”
“Okay. Well. You’ll forgive me if I don’t tell you anything since I can’t really place my trust in that. When it comes to mind transfer, you can’t trust anyone. That’s one reason why I stayed normal. I’m always me.”
Yunil nodded. “I understand. We can meet again, with me in my own body. I decided not to take the time to transfer back before coming here now, because my usual face is...”
“Infamous now?” he guessed.
“Yeah.”
“I’ll tell you what. I don’t know what you want, and I believe it’s best not to say at this time. Next time I see you, I not only want you to look like Lubiti, but I want to see you two at the same time. She’ll confirm if you’re real or not. She’ll know if you’re just a liar in a meatsuit.”
“Fair enough,” Yunil agreed.
“I assume you have my contact card?”
“I do.”
“Send me yours so we can coordinate. I have to reach out to schedule visitation.”
“I’ll do that.” She started tapping on her device. “Also, can I go out the back?”
“Go ahead.” While she was leaving, Dreychan pulled out his own device. Her contact card came through while he was navigating to Azad’s. He took a moment to think about what he wanted to write. Good morning, Dominus Petit, I—
“What’s up?”
Dreychan spun around to find another surprise guest. “Dominus. I was just writing to you.”
“I know,” Azad replied. “I get an alert whenever anyone so much as opens my card.”
“That’s...a little frightening.”
“It’s a security thing. We need to know who’s thinking about us in case it’s an assassin, or something worse.”
“I see.”
“There is a workaround. What you do is take a photo of the card using another device, and consult the image whenever you want. Don’t just take a screenshot, though, because I, uh, get alerted when that happens too. This works for anyone with a spy-ping trigger.”
“That’s good to know.”
They stood there awkwardly for a moment. “The trigger doesn’t alert me to the reason you were looking me up, though,” Azad went on.
“Oh, right, sorry.” Dreychan gestured towards the back door. “I was just visited by a...old woman who claimed to be Lubiti’s twin sister, but just in a different substrate. I can’t verify that, so I need to speak with Lubiti sooner than I expected to ask her about it. And I would like this Yunil to be present.”
Azad narrowed his eyes at him. “You spoke with her here? Please tell me you were stupid enough to let her in, and not that she walked in herself.”
“It was the second one.”
Azad sighed as he started tapping on his wrist device. “I’m choosing to believe that the sister is okay, but if she breached using her shared DNA with Lubiti, it clearly means that Lubiti could come back in as well. Presumably, so could any other former member of the Council. Even if they’re locked up, that is a huge security flaw that we’ll need to cover. I’m sorry, I can’t grant visitation, to you or her sister, until we figure this out. For all we know, this whole thing has been a plot to break her out, and clearly, that could cause problems. I’ll call you with updates as appropriate.”
“That makes perfect sense. Do what you gotta do, and take your time.” After Azad disappeared, Dreychan also slipped out the back, and headed for the senior vactrain hub, which he now had access to thanks to his higher status on the Council. The reporters wouldn’t be able to follow him there, so it was another source of protection from the onslaught of questions, though a sterile and boring one. They shouldn’t be able to accost him at home either, but perhaps that too was unsafe. There were plenty of places to sleep here. He could apply for a temporary unit in Overdome maybe. That was so weird and random, no one would think to look for him there. “Yunil?”
She looked up from her device. “Oh, hello again. Just waiting for my train.”
“Oh.” Super awkward.
“Oh no, what happened?”
He couldn’t say anything. If he explained what Azad just said about the access flaw, it might give her an idea that she didn’t have before! Argh, no! Get him out of here!
Yunil smiled knowingly. “You don’t have to tell me anything. If you’re not busy, perhaps you can accompany me back to Perspectidome, where my real body is waiting for me? I’m not thinking that that will be enough to get you to trust me, but if you see the records which prove that it’s my primary, maybe that gets us one step closer to trust.”
“I suppose I have nothing better to do.” The train zipped through the tube before them, and the doors opened. The both of them stepped onto it, and let it take them away. They were alone in the pod, which was good. This time was usually busy with people coming and going, but the council shake up must have rippled across the population, and altered other people’s personal schedules. It wasn’t long before they were at their destination. Dreychan looked around, confused. “We didn’t have to stop at a Conjunction. I didn’t know that was ever a thing.”
“Don’t need one, with that handsome face of yours. You’re now not only a senior traveler, but an executive senior traveler. Every train has become an express train. We probably did go through a Conjunction, but we didn’t have to stop and switch tracks. And yes, Perspectidome is relatively close.”
The doors reopened, and let them out. They proceeded to the intake plaza, where Yunil informed the bot that she was picking her primary substrate back up. They processed her biometrics, and let them into the transfer room. “This is the weird part.”
“What’s weird about it?” Dreychan asked. “Besides everything?” He knew very little about how all this body switching stuff worked, and didn’t care to know. She could tell him that a microscopic creature was going to crawl out of her ear, and into the one of the body she was trying to move to, and he would believe it, because he really just did not know.
“This body isn’t just temporary. It’s disposable, and is actually required to be disposed of. It’s going to melt, which might be unsettling to watch.”
Dreychan stared at her. “If you’re going to disrobe, I’m not going to be watching anyway.”
She laughed. “No, the clothes are biosynthetic, so they’ll just melt too.”
“Still, I don’t think I’ll watch.”
“I can appreciate that.” She pointed at the side door. “My primary is in that room. It is unclothed, but it looks nicer, and it’s not going to melt. You can wait for me there.”
He went into the other room to find a motionless body that looked just like Lubiti. It was floating in this big vertical tube against the wall, in some kind of bubbly amber fluid. Within minutes, her eyes popped open. She took a moment to get her bearings before settling into eye contact with Dreychan. She smiled at him kindly before reaching down and turning some kind of wheel on the floor. The fluid started to drain away. Once the tube was empty, she slid the hatch open and climbed out.
Dreychan had noticed a towel sitting folded on the table between them. He picked it up now, and tried to hand it to her.
She smiled wider now. “I have to wash up first. It’s basically amniotic fluid.” She glided over to the shower, which didn’t even have a curtain. So he wouldn’t keep staring, he went over to the machines, and started looking at the various components, as if his observations alone would give him any understanding of how they worked.
“It’s okay,” she said while she was still in there. “I switched on the holo-partition.”
He looked back over, but it was a lie.
“Sorry! I’m a bit of a trickster.” Yunil did this weird hand gesture where she tapped the tip of her own fingers with her thumb and flicked her wrist a little. The hologram appeared now. It was rather translucent, and barely tall enough to cover the important bits, but he didn’t want to argue anymore, so he just kept his eyes on hers. “Don’t be so uptight. You treat your own body as a vital part of you, but for people like me, it’s just a husk. You don’t cry for your clipped fingernails, do you? I’ve met people who look like rabbits, mythological creatures, and even machines. There’s a dome here where you transfer your mind to a vehicle, and drive. It feels like you are the vehicle, not like you’re just sitting in one.”
“I don’t cry for my nails,” Dreychan explained, “but my body is not something I can lose. It would be more like the body loses me. We call that death.”
“Well, that’s your first problem. You see death as inevitable. The vonearthans see it as an anachronism.” She sighed. “I’m gonna have to walk through the hologram to reach the towel.”
He looked away again.
“Oh my God,” she said. “It’s not me. It’s her. Do you have a thing for her?”
He took one little peek. The towel was now keeping her covered. “She was nice to me. It’s over now.”
I’m nice to you, and that’s not over.”
“What are you saying?”
“Drey—”
“Please don’t call me that.”
“Okay.” She didn’t see it as a big deal. “Your video was leaked, did you not know that?” She opened a drawer, and pulled out a set of clothes, which she set on the counter between them.
“Of me in 2.5Dome? No, I am indeed aware of that. Many of the reporters’ questions had to do with how I survived the ordeal.”
“You don’t understand. No one has ever made it through that whole game in one go. It’s only supposed to be for people like me, for whom death is but a temporary setback. The loudest people are mad that you didn’t make your announcement right away, but most of us are extremely impressed, and that is quickly overshadowing any resentment we feel about the lack of immediate transparency. I came to you because I wanted to meet the man who refused to die. I wanted to meet the man who my sister underestimated. You want my body, you can have it. You want me to jump to another one, and have that instead, just say the word.”
“That’s not what this is about for me. I don’t feel emotions for bodies. I feel them for people. And we just met.”
“We can take it slow,” she said with a shrug as she tossed her towel into the material reclamator, and started slipping on the outfit. “But maybe not too slow. After all...if you’re planning on dying in less than a century, you better get on it. You don’t have as many opportunities to find happiness as almost everyone else in this part of the galaxy. I admire that in people like you, but...not if you take it for granted.”
“I don’t need you to feel any particular way about me. I just want you to tell me what you really want. And don’t say it’s just about sex. I don’t believe that.”
“You told me you didn’t want me to tell you yet.”
“I changed my mind.”
She nodded. “I’m part of a group.”
“Oh, shit.” That word. His brain instantly associated it with other, less innocuous ones, like rebellion, insurgency, or traitor.
“Don’t be like that. We’re not violent. We’re connoisseurs of Earthan history. Ya know, our ancestors were grown in test tubes by a madman, who stole them from a ship, which originated in the Gatewood Collective, and whose passengers were once refugees from another universe, which were the descendants of runaways...from Earth. Yes, our peoples have a longer history of fleeing oppression and strife than you might know. But while we don’t call ourselves vonearthan, we are all technically sourced from there. My group studies the homeworld, because we believe it is the absolutely most important aspect of our lives, now that we even know it exists. I came to you, Dreychan, because if you want to know how to formulate the new government of Castlebourne, you have a perfectly good model to base it on. Earth spent thousands of years trying to figure it out. Don’t reinvent the wheel. My friends and I will show you what works. It’s been working for centuries. That’s how they were able to build this paradise.”
“Hrockas built it to get away from Earth.”
“No, he was assigned this planet because while it is naturally barren, it’s stable, gravitationally healthy, and the host star is relatively similar to Sol. Its distance from the Core Worlds is the product of cosmic statistical probability, not a design feature.”
“What are you trying to say now?” He was getting confused.
“Don’t think that you need to rebuild the Council back to how it was. You might not even need a council. All I’m saying is get yourself educated before you start making any decisions. I’m here to give you whatever you need, and I don’t just mean access to my body. My brain is pretty great too.”
Dreychan’s watch beeped, so he checked the notification. “No more express trains for you. You’ve been locked out of government privileges. Or rather, Lubiti was.”
Yunil rolled her eyes. “DNA locks are so stupid anyway. All I need is one hair, and I can grow a passing clone in a matter of months without setting off any alarm bells. It should be brainwave-locked. I know they have that technology. You should demand it.”
Dreychan breathed deeply. “I still can’t trust you. We need to set up that meeting with your so-called sister.”
She chuckled. “That’s not the first time she’s been called that. I call her that. And yeah, I’m down for the meeting whenever. I cancelled all future dome trips, so I’ll just be sitting at home whenever you’re ready. I will be able to leave at a moment’s notice.”
“I’ll talk to my contact again,” Dreychan said. “But right now, I’m exhausted, so I think I’m gonna go home. Maybe we don’t share a train again?”
She shook her head. “We’re not going to the same place anyway. I live in Underbelly.”