Showing posts with label job. Show all posts
Showing posts with label job. Show all posts

Tuesday, June 24, 2025

Microstory 2437: Warehouse Dome

Generated by Google Gemini Pro text-to-video AI software, powered by Veo 3
This is a big planet, and it needs a lot of stuff. But you don’t just make all the stuff you need, put it where you need it, and walk away. Some stuff gets consumed, while others get worn out. Plus, they’re always expanding, so stuff needs to be added to these new environments. They build the stuff ahead of time, and store it away. I don’t know how many warehouses there are, but there are at least thirteen, and this is one of them. Picture a warehouse with concrete floors, tall shelves, and a bunch of random artifacts. Now multiply that by who knows how much. That’s Warehouse Dome. I have no idea what all these things are for. I’m guessing that there were more appropriate goods in a section that I didn’t see, like dayfruit growers and vactrain seat upholstery. In the area where I was, I saw a set of humming golf clubs, a whole shelf of glass insulators, and a giant vat of purple goo. Tell me what that’s all about. The people I saw there sure wouldn’t. I immediately felt totally accosted by them, like I wasn’t doing my job, or something. I was apparently in the wrong place, and was supposed to be in a different aisle doing inventory? Those idiots thought that I worked there. It didn’t even seem like they expected any visitors in the first place. Like, there was no tour or orientation, not even anyone who seemed to be in charge. They were just really secretive and weird. I was probably not meant to be there at all, but if that’s the case, why did they even let me in in the first place? Can you just go anywhere? Can you go to any dome you want, no matter how much of a threat you are? I heard of one where they keep all the water. Can you just pour some poison into it without even sneaking around, or breaking in? Whatever, it was boring. I perused the objects—like the self-typing old-timey typewriter, and a mirror that had some creepy little girl in it—for a little bit, but then I left. Lock your doors, or put up a sign, or something. Don’t just leave me hanging like that. I don’t see this as my fault. By the way, the above is my name for it. They just called it Warehouse 13. I didn’t bother finding out if the first twelve were just as weird. Then again, maybe the prospectus is broken. It was listed as an adventure dome, despite clearly being logistical, so I don’t even know.

Friday, June 13, 2025

Microstory 2430: Advanced Research Dome (ARD)

Generated by Google Gemini Pro text-to-video AI software, powered by Veo 3
In the early days of interstellar colonization, they largely expected you to start from scratch, though the definition of this term is a little loose. I mean, they had domes too, because almost none of them had an atmosphere that was breathable by organic Earthans. So there was some technology right from the start, and they were making scientific advances on their own, but Earth remained front and center in the industry. You just can’t beat that kind of established infrastructure and strong, lasting institutions. I’m not sure that’s true anymore. While Teagarden took over the majority of the military needs of the Core Worlds, that was mostly for political reasons. They wanted to erase any sense that it favored the nations of Old Earth. Physics research didn’t have to switch homes, but it has. These new reframe engines people are using to travel at faster-than-light speeds? Those were apparently invented here. Developments in anti-gravity; induced stasis; transhumanistic enhancement, including bioforming; terraforming; power generation and distribution...it’s all here. Dare I say, we’re now more advanced than Earth is, even with all of its advantages? I’m sorry to tell you that that is my conclusion. If you’re interested in furthering our understanding of physics, biology, chemistry, or any other scientific field, your best bet is to come here. Earth’s programs are nothing to scoff at, and I don’t think they’re doing anything wrong, but at some point, the brightest minds in the galaxy evidently decided to move, and before anyone realized what was happening, the power shifted here. Good or bad, that’s what happened. This power may shift once more, back to Earth, or perhaps some third star system, but for now, this is the nexus of scientific exploration. The silver lining is that they’re not hoarding it any more than Earth did. They’re sharing what they’ve learned with others, so we’re at least safe from the privatization threats that we’ve faced in days past. Word of warning: this dome is not for visitors, really. You can come, and they’ll let you walk around, but we’re dealing with a lot of dangerous things here, so the majority of the sectors are off-limits without proper authorization. People keep randomly showing up, believing that we have something to show off, but that’s not what we’re doing here. This is just for us. If you want to join, fill out the right application. If you don’t yet qualify, find a learning platform, and catch up. There are no limits to who can help humanity and its offshoots achieve everything we ever dreamed of.

Thursday, June 12, 2025

Microstory 2429: Capital

Generated by Google Gemini Pro text-to-video AI software, powered by Veo 3
This is the Capital City of Castlebourne. It doesn’t have any other name besides that, which is unusual, since they seem to have an appreciation for word puns in their other names. I suppose they just wanted to be real serious here, which is probably a good thing. Where I’m from in the Goldilocks Corridor, our planet didn’t have a capital. It was just a village where we made soap. That’s really it. Several years back, we were visited by the resistance to the Exin Empire. They wanted to know if any of us were willing to join the movement, and fight alongside them. We didn’t understand why we would even consider that, because for the most part, the empire left us alone. They asked us for soap, we gave them the soap, and they left. They never abused us, or attacked us, or anything. The resistance started educating us, though. They taught us about the other worlds, which were being forced to do other things to serve the Emperor. They showed us images of these other places, involving big machines that could produce their own wares in a fraction of the time. We were stunned. Some of us didn’t believe it. Some of us still don’t, and presumably still live on our home planet. We were making soap by hand. It was hard work, and the only reason we didn’t complain before was because we literally didn’t know that there was any better way. We were intentionally kept in the dark. Well, anyway, no, none of us joined the resistance. We were soap makers, we didn’t know how to fight! But then a few years later, another new ship showed up, and promised to take us somewhere where we wouldn’t have to make soap anymore. We asked them what work we would be doing, and they kind of laughed. No work, they said; we wouldn’t have to work at all. This was another concept that we didn’t have any frame of reference for. You work, it’s what you do. Not even the war-fighting people said anything about a life where we wouldn’t have to work. After some further education, most of us agreed to go with these other people. We flew away, and landed on Castlebourne. They didn’t lie to us, we don’t have to work. It’s taken some adjusting, but we’ve gotten used to just being alive and happy. I still wanna work, though. It still feels like the right thing to do. So I came to Capital to see how I could contribute to the governing body of our new society. I don’t have much experience, but they were all so welcoming to me. I’ve not been assigned anything yet, but they’re working on finding a place. I’m sure it’s difficult since I don’t have any skills. As for the dome itself, it’s gorgeous. Our village was dull and lifeless. I didn’t realize how much of a struggle it was for us just to survive. In contrast, this place has trees and other plant life. Tall buildings with hundreds of people work to make the world a better place for us refugees. For whatever reason, we were allowed to know how to read, but not everyone here had that luxury, yet the government is helping, and they’re doing it in style. I can’t wait to get my new job, and get to come to this beautiful dome every single day for the rest of my life.

Sunday, May 18, 2025

The Advancement of Mateo Matic: July 18, 2500

Generated by Google Gemini Advanced text-to-video AI software, powered by Veo 2
The ladies were gone. Leona, Olimpia, and Romana were on a trip together in the Pacific Northwest, predominantly the Portland area. Mateo could have taken time off of work to go with them, but he wasn’t invited. Instead, he was staying home. Ramses was spending a lot of time here too, hanging out to keep him company. They had planned on playing cards with a couple of driver friends, but both of them fell through, so now it was just the two of them. “You can play cards with just two people,” Mateo reasoned. “You can play with just yourself, if it’s the right game.”
“That’s depressing,” Ramses pointed out. “Let’s just find someone else.”
“This last minute?”
“It’s not a big party; they’ll be able to leave whenever they want to. What about those twins next door?”
“Angela and Marie.” Mateo leaned over in his chair, but couldn’t quite see through the window, so he stood up. It still wasn’t enough, so he just stepped over. “Yeah, they’re out there in their garden. Seems as though that’s all they do.”
“Maybe they would like a break,” Ramses suggested. Maybe they’re always out there hoping a couple of cool guys will invite them to something better.”
“I’ll see.” Mateo walked out of the house, expecting to do this alone, but Ramses was trailing behind him. “Hello, Waltons. Are you free this evening? We got a poker game going, and there are some extra seats at the table.”
Marie and Angela exchanged a look. “Do you have RPS-101?” asked the former.
“Is...that a drink?” Mateo asked.
They laughed. “No,” Angela said. “It’s a game. We have a board, if you think you might like to learn.”
Mateo exchanged a look with Rames, and then shrugged. “Yeah, we’re up for something new. It’ll just be the four of us.”
“Great.” Marie stood up, and started to remove her gardening gloves. “Marie Walton, computer programmer.” She shook Ramses’ hand.
“Computer engineer,” Ramses replied.
“I know.” She smiled.
“I’m an addiction counselor.” Angela shook his hand too.
“There won’t be any drinking,” Mateo explained, worried that maybe she was worried about it.
“It would have been fine if there were,” Angela promised.
The twins wanted to shower first, which was fine, because the gaming table wasn’t set up yet. A half hour later, they showed up with their game board. It was a giant wheel with 101 objects written in the wedges. The entire game was pure chance, with absolutely no strategy involved. One player spun the wheel, and randomly landed on one of the objects. The other player spun next, and if it was better than the first one, they won. It was the most boring thing that Mateo had ever experienced, and he couldn’t understand why they liked it so much. They couldn’t explain it either. They just had this peculiar fascination with it, like there was a secret dimension to the game that they simply hadn’t reached yet. Mateo wasn’t so sure, but he did find himself mysteriously landing on Sponge a lot. Maybe there really was magic to it. Despite this inexplicable intrigue, everyone agreed after a while that it was literally played out. They switched to regular old poker. They had to explain the game to the Waltons first. Well, Ramses did. Mateo knew the hands, but he didn’t understand it on the level that Ramses did. That was why he served as the region’s engineer. Mateo certainly couldn’t do it without him.
After hours of this, they took a break to get up, use the restroom, and scavenge for food. Ramses and Marie ended up in a discussion about their jobs, and it was kind of looking like they were never going to start playing again.
“There’s something I’d like to show you,” Angela said to Mateo. She tilted her head towards the east. “Back at our place.”
“Okay,” he said. Hopefully she wasn’t coming onto him. Managing a three-person relationship was complicated enough. They didn’t need to add a fourth. He followed her back to her house, and into what she called their study.
“Did you know that there are more than two kinds of twins?”
“How do you mean?”
“Well, you can have identical or fraternal—or in the case of two girls, sororal. You’ve probably heard of this distinction, but there are other variations. Precisely when the egg splits, or whether it was fertilized before the split, or after, makes a difference. There are other factors. You can even have two twins with two separate fathers!”
“Is that what you are?” Mateo asked, not sure where she was going with this.
Angela giggled as she took a file folder out of the top drawer of a desk. “No.” She opened the folder, and folded it under itself before handing it to him. “We’re not sure what we are.”
Mateo looked down at the top piece of paper. “I don’t understand what any of this means. DNA methylation, telomeres...”
“Down at the bottom.” Angela just pointed at the sheet in general.
Mateo read it out loud, “biological markers inconclusively suggest an aging abnormality that places Subject B roughly four years ahead of Subject A. Yeah, I still don’t know what that means.”
“Marie is older than me,” Angela tried to explain, “by four years.”
“How is that possible?”
She shook her head. “We don’t know. It’s not the only weird thing about it. We understand that RPS-101 is stupid and boring, but we wanted to play it with you two to see what would happen. You keep landing on Sponge. I keep landing on Heart. And there’s also the matter of the hemlock.”
“Excuse me?”
“We all drank hemlock.”
“I don’t know much, but I know that that’s toxic.”
“Yeah, it should be. But are you even a little queasy?”
Mateo turned away. “You poisoned me as some sort of test?”
“Do you remember moving here, to your house, I mean?”
“Yeah, of course I do.”
I don’t. Neither does Marie. We’re just been here forever. All we do is garden.”
“And play Rock, Paper, Scissors, and drink hemlock.”
“Do you feel stronger when you go out in the sun?”
“Lots of people like the sun.”
“That’s not what I asked.”
Mateo sighed. “I guess so. Is that not normal?”
“No, it’s not.”
“What does it mean, when you put it all together, that we’re superheroes?”
“Well, we may be super, but we’re not heroes. Don’t get me wrong, I’m sure your job is very fulfilling, but it can be done by a computer.”
That was a bit of a sore subject. While it was true that RideSauce valued the human touch, his role was also under constant threat of being automated. The only reason they hadn’t pulled the trigger was because customer satisfaction was a reflection of staff satisfaction, which was reportedly tied to their ability to receive help from real humans. If the pendulum ever swung to the opposite direction, even for only a day, his job would be gone so fast, a new tenant would be in his office space by lunch.
Angela took her lab test back, and returned it to the drawer. “I don’t mean to hurt your feelings, but there’s something going on around here. I feel like nearly everyone around me is fake. There’s a reason we ran these tests on you two. You, your wife, your daughter; they all seem like real people. You seem like the only real people. Everyone else is just sort of...weird. Wouldn’t you say?”
“No,” Mateo argued. “My assistant feels real, as does one of my drivers, Boyd.”
Angela grabbed a notepad from the desk. “Boyd. And what’s your assistant’s name?”
“You’re not going to poison my friends too!”
“Understood, but you only listed two more people. Can you think of anyone besides them?”
“Yeah, my rival...Pacey.”
Pacey, with an e?”
“You’re not—I mean, you can poison him if you want, I guess. But you stay the hell away from my wife and daughter, you hear me.”
“Well, your daughter wouldn’t be able to survive it.”
“What makes you say that?”
“I dunno. Why did I say that?”
Mateo decided to sit down in one of the guest chairs. “If I’m being honest, there are some things I know or think about the world around me, and the people, which don’t seem true...but do?”
Angela flattened her skirt under her thighs and sat down in the other guest chair. “I think I know what you mean. Leona and I had tea the other day, and she made an off-handed comment about how I was once engaged to a man named Ed. That’s completely untrue, I’ve never been engaged, yet it still somehow felt right. I could picture him in my mind. He was dressed weird, like he lived in a different time.”
“Maybe it’s a past life.” He stood up and laughed as he put his face in his palm. “Oh my God, I can’t believe I’m even entertaining these scifi ideas. Past lives? That’s not a thing.”
“Aren’t they? We don’t know,” Angela pointed out.
“I designed a spaceship.” The two of them looked over to find Ramses standing in the doorway. “I thought it was just for fun, but...I think it works. I mean, it’s really detailed, right down to how the fuel is injected into the engine.”
“He showed it to me,” Marie said as they were both walking all the way into the room. “I can’t make heads or tails of it, but I can tell that he put a lot of thought into the design. If it wouldn’t work, it’s well-thought out at the very least.”
“We were talking,” Ramses went on. “I’ve never been sick. Neither has she, nor her sister. My memories seem...not fake, but too perfect, like they’ve been carefully curated for my mind.”
“Did she tell you about the poison?” Mateo asked him.
“Yeah,” Ramses said with a nod. “We took it a step further.” He bent over, and unplugged a surge protector from its wall, along with all of the appliances connected to it. “Do you care about this?” he asked Marie.
“No,” she said as she was taking it from him. She pulled it back like a baseball bat, and slammed it straight into Ramses’ face. He didn’t even move. It didn’t seem to hurt at all, and didn’t do any damage whatsoever.
Apparently inspired by the two of them, Angela grabbed a letter opener from the desk, and tried to jam it into Mateo’s neck. It didn’t hurt either, and didn’t break the skin. It did do damage to the opener, though, bending it into a slight curve.
“We are superheroes,” Mateo guessed.
“Or it’s the simulation hypothesis,” Ramses decided.
“Explain that one again?” Mateo asked, jokingly without laughing, because he hadn’t ever heard of it, though it did not sound humorous.
“We’re all living in a computer simulation,” Ramses began. “Usually, it’s used in an attempt to explain the nature of reality itself, and where we all are in general. But in this case, it could just be the explanation for where we are...the four of us.”
“Six,” Marie corrected. “We think Mateo’s family is part of this too.”
“More,” Angela corrected Marie’s correction. She lifted up the notepad. “Mateo came up with a few names of people he interacts with who also appear to be real.” She used airquotes around the last word.
“If we’re just in a computer,” Mateo asked, “how do we get out?”
“Typically?” Ramses asked. “You can’t. You can never really know what’s real, and what’s not. It’s not like the movies, where you can will yourself out of it, or where the developers hid secret powers that let you take control. If the simulation hypothesis is true, we have absolutely no free will. Not only can they shape our world to their liking, but they can adjust our minds as needed. We’re not necessarily real either.”
“So, what do we do?” Angel asked him.
“Our two main choices are to keep our heads down, and hope our creators see fit to at least keep us alive in whatever definition that should be for the simulation. Don’t make waves, don’t rock the boat; just play along.”
“Or we keep bashing each other with office equipment,” Marie offered.
“Or we try to talk to them,” Mateo suggested instead. “I told you, Angela, that my rival, Pacey seems real too. There’s more to it. He actually seems, somehow...more real.”
“You think he’s one of them? An avatar of one of the developers?” Angela figured.
“Might could be,” Mateo said. “But I don’t wanna do anything until my girls come back home. It’s not safe for them here, but it’s not like it’s safe wherever they are now. What if they’re on a different server, or whatever? At least if they come back, I can keep an eye on them.”
“Okay, then we wait to do anything,” Marie said. “They should have a say in whatever decision we make anyway.”

Sunday, May 11, 2025

The Advancement of Mateo Matic: July 17, 2499

Generated by Google VideoFX text-to-video AI software, powered by Veo 2
Mateo and Olimpia were in St. Louis on one of their business trips. There was an issue with the booking, which was forcing them into a single room with a single bed. It was no coincidence that all of the hotels were booked up this week. They weren’t the only game in this town right now. Every ridesourcing company was hoping to strike a deal with St. Louis Metro Transit. They were looking to expand their service to multiple outlying areas, but found the project to be cost-prohibitive on their own. One of the bus drivers moonlighted as a driver for Tractus Rides, and suggested they form some sort of partnership. It was a last mile program, which could help thousands get to their destinations at lower cost than if they had to drive themselves, or use a ridesharing service alone. The executives actually thought it was a good idea, but they didn’t just want to close themselves up to options. Everyone was going to get a shot to pitch their idea. This would be a huge opportunity for RideSauce. While St. Louis fell under Mateo’s purview, he wasn’t in charge of the negotiations, because that was well above his paygrade. If they managed to secure something here, there was a chance that RideSauce would make similar deals in other cities.
Only the higher ups for RideSource were here, but Tractus went a different direction. They decided to secure rooms for their local drivers as well, reportedly to show their enthusiasm for the project, but clearly just to make themselves look stronger. They took all the hotel rooms just so they could walk around with their big swingin’ wieners, and that was annoying. There was nothing that the front desk agent could do, so Mateo was gonna have to swallow his pride, and speak to his archrival. “Pacey,” he greeted with an insincere nod.
“Matthew, what a pleasant surprise.” Pacey Henricksen was essentially Mateo’s equivalent for Tractus in the central midwest, though not exactly. Their organization was structured differently, so he managed more cities, and other divisions in those cities. RideSauce focused on ridesourcing, but Tractus was also in delivery and limousine services. And he knew that Mateo would be here, obviously.
“You took all the rooms.”
Pacey breathed in deeply through his nose and nodded. “We need them.”
“This is a stunt.”
“This is all a stunt,” Pacey argued. “That’s what we’re doing here. How we appear to the client is what matters most.”
“What we can provide to the client is what matters in our eyes,” Mateo countered. “They’ll see that.” He wasn’t really here to get in a fight, but he couldn’t help it.
“We’re bigger, and they need to know how much better we’ll be at scaling operations.”
“Your other divisions are irrelevant. The bus riders aren’t going to be getting in any limos.”
“They might if they pay a premium,” Pacey reasoned.
Mateo laughed. “They’re bus riders,” Mateo emphasized. “They don’t pay premiums. You have no idea who you’re dealing with.”
“We’ll see. Did you need something?”
“We need one of your rooms. They overbooked, so now we’re stuck with one between the two of us.”
Pacey looked over Mateo’s shoulder, at Olimpia. “I don’t see the problem.”
“Put your tongue back in your mouth, you’re not her type.”
“What’s her type?”
“Decent people,” Mateo answered.
Pacey shrugged. “I’m sure she would make an exception.”
“She and I are professionals. You might look into it. Until then, what do I need to do to get one of your rooms?”
Pacey grimaced. “You see, if I give you a room, I’ll be taking it away from someone else, which means they’ll be pairing up instead. That doesn’t really solve the problem, it just shifts it to someone else. You have more experience with that than I do.”
Ugh. Of course he would bring that up again. He always found a way whenever they ran into each other. “For the last time, that driver was not in my area. Just because he was supposed to drive the rider from Sioux Falls to Sioux City doesn’t mean he worked for me. He was registered in South Dakota. I had nothing to do with the failed background check.”
“Well, it speaks to how flippant your company is with safety and security,” Pacey decided.
“The driver worked for you too, he passed your background check just as easily, so don’t give me that bullshit. And unlike me, South Dakota is in your jurisdiction.”
“Well, he wasn’t working for us that night, which is why the judge withheld it as evidence.”
Mateo had no retort, and it was a distraction anyway. “There are only two of us, and as her superior, it would be inappropriate for us to share a room. Pacey. Please. You must know of two people who can bunk up.”
Pacey looked away in thought. “Well...there’s this one driver that I’ve been seeing. I suppose that she and I could share. Your little assistant could sleep in her room instead. We wouldn’t even have to involve the hotel. We’ll just give her a keycard. But if she takes anything from the mini-bar, you’re paying for it.”
“She never would,” Mateo explained. “I’ll ask her if she’s okay with it.”
“Lovely,” Pacey said. “Always glad to assist a colleague.”
Mateo stepped over to talk to Olimpia, who was receptive to the idea. She wasn’t entirely convinced that the original situation was a problem that needed to be fixed, but she didn’t argue. She wouldn’t, though. He needed to get better at reading her, and recognizing that he’s her boss, and that she wouldn’t want to antagonize him. As long as Pacey’s companion stayed in his room, instead of going back to her own, Olimpia should be fine. That wasn’t what happened, though, and they should have known.
“They got in a big fight apparently,” Olimpia said at Mateo’s doorway.
“Come on in,” he said, stepping away.
She rolled her suitcase inside. “She was telling me about it, but I’ve become pretty good at tuning people out. I know what they want to hear when I’m pretending to listen actively, based on tone and pauses in their speech, so I don’t have to absorb the information. I’m sure it was very banal and meaningless. The fact is, she wanted her room back, and I didn’t want to stick around. She said she was fine sharing it with me, because I seemed cool, but I really don’t wanna do that.” She looked around this room. “I was hoping there was a couch, errr...”
“No, the company’s very frugal. I typically don’t care. It doesn’t need to be big, just clean. But you can sleep in the bed, and I’ll be in the tub.”
“I know you, Mateo, you shower at night. I can tell that you already have. The tub is wet.”
He shrugged. “I always bring a swimsuit. I’ll sleep in that.”
“That’s silly. We can share, it’ll be fine.”
Mateo looked down at the bed. “It’s a full, not even a queen. Pacey must have done that on purpose as further punishment.”
“Pacey?” she questioned. “How would he have any control over what room you were assigned?”
Mateo blinked. “I don’t know, how would he?”
Olimpia blinked back. “Can you sleep next to a woman without having sex with her?”
“Yeah, can you? Vice versa, that is?”
She hesitated to answer.
“Olimpia, it’s a simple—” Wait...
She still couldn’t answer, and she didn’t try to backpedal.
No, he couldn’t sleep in the bed with her. He couldn’t even sleep in the tub. He had to get out of here entirely. “You take the bed, I’m gonna hail a RideSauce Hot. They’re almost always SUVs, so I should be able to sleep in the back.”
“That’ll cost you a fortune.”
“Not if we don’t go anywhere,” he contended. “I’ll pay under the table.”
“That is not a service that our company offers.”
“No, but...I’m the boss. I’m sure whoever it is will say yes. That’s the difference between us and Tractus. The drivers know who I am. Nobody who works for Pacey could pick him out of a line up.”
“Mateo, it’ll be fine. I’m not saying that I won’t be able to handle it. I just want to be honest about my feelings.”
“I appreciate that. It would have been real easy for you to say nothing, and let it happen. But I have to nip this in the bud. You’re my employee, and I’m married.”
“Right, which is why I’ll get over it.”
“It’s too complicated. Things are different out there.” He pivoted, and started to gaze out the window at the stars. What did they have to do with anything?
“What do you mean?”
“I don’t know.” Mateo’s phone rang. It was Leona. “Hey, I’m about to go to bed.”
What’s wrong?” she asked.
“Nothing. What would be wrong?”
I just had this feeling that you’re upset about something. I can’t explain it.
“Things have gotten a little bit awkward with the hotel rooms, but we’re working it out. I think you just get worried about me when I’m gone.”
No, that’s not it.
“Oh, hold on. I’m getting another call.” He switched over without even bothering to see who it was. “Hello?”
Mateo. This is Angela. Is everything okay?
“Angela? My neighbor? Why would you think there’s something wrong?”
Marie and I just started getting this weird feeling.
A text came in. It was Ramses. Yu ight?
What the hell was going on?
They heard a series of beeps at the door just before it opened. Pacey walked in. He looked disappointed. “I thought you three had an understanding, but it looks like the feelings are a little more complicated, so this whole hotel room gambit isn’t gonna get you where you need to be.”
“What are you talking about?” Mateo demanded to know. “How do you even have a key to get in this room?”
Pacey looked back at the door, and then back to Mateo. “What room?”
“I’m so confused.” Mateo sat down on the edge of the bed, and buried his face in his hands.”
“I know,” Pacey said. “I messed up. I was trying to respect your privacy by only extracting the memories and knowledge that I needed to set up a plausible scenario, but it wasn’t enough. I’m afraid, in order to keep you here, I’m gonna have to go deeper.”
“You’re not making any sense,” Mateo argued.
“I know, and you won’t remember any of this anyway. You and Olimpia will have had sex tonight. That’s how you’ll remember it, and you will have already told Leona about it by the time you wake up. In fact, it will have been weeks ago. She will be fine, and the three of you will move forward with your relationship. Unfortunately, in order to make this work, you’re gonna have to lose the transit contract. I’ll become a weaker antagonist if you don’t.”
Actually, this was starting to make sense. Mateo’s memories were resurfacing. None of this was real. This wasn’t his life. This wasn’t any of their lives. “I know you. You met Leona before. She ran into you in the ka—”
Mateo was nervous. He had never been on a date with two women before. Well, there was that one time, but that was more of a double date where his girlfriend’s friend’s boyfriend flaked out on her. He had never been interested in that other girl. He was interested in Olimpia, and as fate would have it, Leona was interested in her too. She seemed to like them both. This might even go okay. But a first date was a first date, and those were stressful no matter what.
“Are you ready?” Leona asked. “I just need to pick a pair of shoes.”
“Wow. You look beautiful in that.”
“It’ll look better on the floor,” she joked. “Ah, come on, I’m tryna lighten the mood.”
“Is this weird? This seems weird. Maybe we shouldn’t do this.”
“It’s almost the 26th century,” Leona began. “Polyamory is in.”
“I know, but...”
“Don’t shoot yourself in the foot. Two hot chicks are into you. Just let it happen. If things get messy in the future, we’ll clean it up. No one’s life is gonna get ruined.”
“You can’t promise that.”
“You and I have been through worse,” Leona claimed.
“We’ll see about that.” He gave her a kiss on the cheek. “But I trust in your judgment. And I love you.”
“Were I you,” she said as he was walking out of the room.
“Were you me what?”
She blinked. “Huh. I don’t know. It’s an idiom, though, isn’t it?”
He shook his head. “No, it isn’t.” But was it?

Sunday, May 4, 2025

The Advancement of Mateo Matic: July 16, 2498

Generated by Google VideoFX text-to-video AI software, powered by Veo 2
Olimpia had been working here for a few weeks now, and everything was going great. He had an assistant before her, but he was nothing special. She quickly learned to anticipate Mateo’s needs, and they had developed a nice rapport with each other. Being the Fleet Commander for the entire Central Midwest region meant that he had to do a lot of traveling. It wasn’t all over the country, of course, but it was a regular thing. He had just spent most of the last week in Cedar Rapids, which was horrible enough, but going it alone was just too much. Typically, the office assistant stayed in the office, so they could respond to driver issues from their desk, and take in any walk-ins. But with SRW headphones and a cell phone capable of accepting forwarded calls, she really could do her job from just about anywhere. Ramses always stayed next to his precious servers, so he could answer the door if anyone were to show up. Mateo really needed Olimpia there with him when he was on the road. “Are you interested in that?”
“Yeah, sure.”
“It’s not a monarchy,” he reminded her. “I didn’t hire you for travel, and that’s not in the job description. It would therefore come with a new job description, and a modest wage increase. You can say no, though.”
“I have no ties,” Olimpia replied with a shake of her head. “Before I found you, I was applying to jobs in most of the lower 48 states. I like to move around, and stay busy. Honestly—and I probably shouldn’t tell you this—I get bored with a job after a few years, and tend to start looking elsewhere. If I’m traveling, I’m sure it won’t get so tedious.”
“I’m happy to hear that,” Mateo said. “I know I just got back, but I have to fly up to Minneapolis tomorrow, and I could really use your help.”
“I didn’t think Minnesota was in our region,” Olimpia said.
“It’s not, I’m meeting with my equivalent for the Northern Midwest. The guy from the Northern Mountain region will be there too. I’m not a hundred percent sure what it’s about. I think they want to have some kind of convention, or something. This has been on the books for a couple months.”
“Well, I’m in, I’ll change the plane tickets.”
“Great! And hey, why don’t you come for dinner tonight, meet the family? My daughter is cooking something. She’s gotten really good lately. It will be vegetarian though, so if you have a problem...”
“No, I can be there, that sounds great. I really appreciate it, sir.”
“You can just call me Mateo. We’re not formal here.”
“Don’t I know it,” Ramses said, appearing at the entrance to Mateo’s cubicle. He stretched, and pretended to take a drink from a flask.
“Don’t worry, it’s empty,” Mateo explained to Olimpia. “We got those as gifts at a company retreat last year. Ridiculous, if you ask me, but I like how they etched in the RideSauce logo.”
“Oh, yeah.” Olimpia was being polite, but she didn’t care.
“Well, I’ll see you at 17:30 for dinner? I’ll be sure to get you home early enough to pack for the trip. We’ll be gone for three days.”
“I’m already packed,” she said. “I haven’t unpacked since I came to Kansas City.”
“We’ll be traveling a lot,” Mateo reminded her, “but you should still try to dig in and put down some roots.”
“I’ll get right on that. Why don’t we ride to your house together?”
“Okay.”
That evening, after work, Mateo called a RideSauce Hot. He usually went with a Mild, because he didn’t want to feel like an elitist, but he wanted to impress Olimpia. Plus, Boyd liked to hang out in this area around the end of the work day specifically in hopes of answering a request from the boss. It was unclear what he was after, because he wasn’t really on track for a promotion. Maybe he was just a bit of a kiss-ass, and couldn’t help himself. He didn’t qualify for the request today, though, not with that jalopy he was driving. A bluish-purple Aevum Magnitude showed up instead. The driver stepped out, and came around to let them in the back like a real chauffeur. That was part of what you were paying for when you selected Hot.
“Thanks,” Mateo began before remembering that he didn’t notice the name on the app.
“Dave, sir,” the driver replied. He was dressed in the full get-up, all black with a sleek driving cap.
“Dave,” Mateo echoed. He slipped him a 20-dollar bill.
“Thank you, sir.” Dave shut the door behind him, and went around to get back in the car. He received another 20-buck tip at the end of the ride.
Mateo laughed when his daughter answered the door. She was wearing 2450s housewife attire; a pink shirtwaist dress with darker pink flowers and a pleated skirt. Her hair was done up however you would think for that time period, though he didn’t know what to call it. She had deep red lipstick, and smiled in that fake, dying-on-the-inside, sort of way. “Welcome to our home? May I take your coat?”
“Why, that would be swell, ya see? Thanks, sweetheart, you’re a doll.”
“That’s the 2440s, dad,” Romana complained. She shook it off. “Hi, you must be Olimpia. I’m Romana.”
They shook hands. “Nice to meet you. I’m Olimpia. I mean—you just said that.” She was embarrassed.
Romana smiled kindly. “I really will take your coats. Come on in.”
They sipped tea and talked for about a half hour in the kitchen while Romana was finished preparing the food. Leona helped, but Romana was running the show. It was typically Mateo’s job to stay out of the way when they were in their teacher-student mode. He felt uncomfortable this time since he was expected to be in here while entertaining their guest. Fortunately, they had a rather large kitchen. This was the kind of thing you got when you lived in Mission Hills. Olimpia seemed a little uncomfortable too as she was looking up at the architecture, probably because she wasn’t used to all this fancy stuff that rich people had. Or he could have been completely misinterpreting everything. Maybe she just didn’t like him. Or she was starving, and this was taking too long. Or she was craving meat, and was just trying to get through this. That was enough of letting his neuroses take over. He could have been misinterpreting her facial expressions entirely. It was time to eat.
Dinner was lovely, Romana really was getting a lot better. It was probably time that she stepped out from under her mother’s wing, and started seriously thinking about culinary school. She was acting a little weird while they were eating, like she was keeping a secret. Maybe she was about to reveal to them that she knew exactly where she wanted to study, and Olimpia’s presence was overshadowing the announcement. “Lechuga, is there something you wanna tell us?”
“What? No.” she answered.
“Wait, why Lechuga?” Olimpia had to ask.
Mateo smirked. “Romana, romaine, lettuce, lechuga.”
“Oh.” Olimpia giggled.
“There’s something on your mind. You can tell us,” Leona encouraged her daughter. “You know we don’t tell lies in this house.”
Romana sighed, but it was more like a coo. “Okay. Well, you know that I wanted to go to culinary school.”
They nodded, even Olimpia, who just wanted to fit it.
“Well, Boyd said there’s a great one in Hawaii.”
“Boyd, who the hell is Boyd?” Mateo questioned.
“Boyd Maestri, your...driver.”
Mateo feigns ignorance. “Uh, I don’t have a driver named Boyd Maestri who is between 15 and 18 years old. I think you’re confused.” Mateo was never under the impression that his daughter wouldn’t eventually grow up and become sexually active, but there were still rules. The half your age plus seven rule may not have had any scientific basis, but it seemed sound to him. Boyd was way too old for her, and Mateo wouldn’t have it.
“Relax, dad, we’re not doing anything. We just talk sometimes.”
“Why would he be talking to you?” Mateo pressed.
“Calm down, Matt,” Leona urged.
“No. I’m going to be however I need to be,” Mateo insisted. “I get it, Romana. I want you to understand that you did nothing wrong. But he did. I don’t know what you two talk about in your secret little phone calls. It could be politics, or the weather, or cooking. It doesn’t matter. It’s about the reason that he’s talking to you. Even if you don’t see it, I do, because I was him. Your mother was a lot younger than me when we first met. But we didn’t really start talking until we were the same age.”
Romana winced, as did everyone else. “What do you mean, she was younger? How could she have aged while you stayed the same?”
Mateo uttered a single unintelligible sound before he became blocked and frozen. He could not explain what he had just said. Leona was younger? And then she got older, and now  they were the same age? That didn’t make any sense at all. He had to cover. He had to figure a way out of this. “You know what I mean, she was just a little too young for me, but as we both aged at the same time, the gap remained the same, but it became less pronounced.” That wasn’t right either. They were the same age!
“And how long would I have to wait before someone Boyd’s age would be appropriate for me?”
Someone Boyd’s age? Maybe ten years. Boyd himself? Uh, after the sun goes supernova, I guess.”
“The sun’s not going to go supernova, it’s going to expand, cool off, and shrink,” Leona clarified.
Mateo narrowed his eyes at her wife. “Thanks.”
Romana scoffed. “For your information, I know what boys want from me. I mean...look at me. It’s irrelevant what Boyd thinks he’s gonna get in return for helping me, because if I don’t wanna give it, I won’t. He has a friend who works at the Hilo Culinary Arts Institute, so I’m using him however I must to get into that school. We can’t all have careers that fall into our laps just because we got a 100% on our first driving tests, and it inflated our egos.”
“It was 101%,” Mateo reminded her. “I corrected one of the questions for its ambiguity.”
“Oh, how could I forget?” Ramona said in a mocking tone, crossing her arms.
“You can get into whatever school you want, Lechuga—”
“You don’t call me that when we’re fighting,” she argued in a raised voice.
He closed his eyes. They did agree to that. It was a pet name, and those should not be associated with negative emotions or hostilities. “Romana. You’re extremely talented, and we are doing well for ourselves. You don’t have to go to a school nearby, though I would love to have you stay in the area. What I will not tolerate is you using someone for their connections. I’m not saying that you should give it up for him instead, but I didn’t raise you to exploit people any more than I raised you to be careless with your heart and body. You are to treat others with kindness and respect, and if that means losing out on an opportunity, then that’s what will happen. Your integrity is more important.”
This seemed to speak to her. “Yeah,” she said in a lowered voice. She let out an exasperated and disappointed sigh. “You’re right, I’m sorry.”
“I’m sorry for starting a fight.” He turned his attention. “Olimpia, I’m sorry that you saw us fight.”
“It’s okay,” she replied sincerely.
There was an awkward silence, which Leona broke. “I didn’t want to be completely useless tonight, so I made the dessert all by myself. Who here likes sand cake?”

Thursday, May 1, 2025

Microstory 2399: Vacuus, May 18, 2183

Generated by Google VideoFX text-to-video AI software, powered by Veo 2
Dear Pascal,

This is the best news ever. Are you ready for this? Get excited. You’re never gonna guess. If you’ll recall, last year, you sent me a message, informing me that your son, my brother, was found missing two years prior, and ultimately declared dead. Well, I’m happy to contradict that in the strongest way possible. Condor is one hundred percent alive. He’s here. That’s why he was missing. This guy got on a spaceship, and flew 1200 astronomical units into the black to intercept Vacuus in its lonely deep space orbit. If you want proof, attached is a little video of us at our real joint birthday party last night. It was such a surprise. We caught wind that a new ship of migrants were coming to live here, and help us grow, but we never dreamed that Condor might have been one of them. It was actually his idea, but I’ll let him tell you.

Hi dad, it’s your boy, Condor. I’m sorry I left you. I was planning the trip out here for quite a while. In fact, I first thought of it the day Corinthia’s message came through. I started doing calculations to determine how long it would take, and what the flight would be like. I did research on my own, and I reached out to other people. There was a ton of interest in certain circles to come here. It’s not the most habitable place in the universe, but nowhere is by Earth’s standards when man first crawled out of the mud. I didn’t know if I was going to be successful, but I knew I had to try, and the more letters I got from Corinthia, the more I wanted it. Most of the people I came here with are still in orbit, awaiting the Vacuans to expand their base to accommodate them, but they let me drop down in an escape pod alone, because I initiated and organized the whole thing. I’m so thankful for the chance to spend my birthday with my twin sister for the first time ever. We ate homegrown root vegetables! Now for the serious stuff. I’m sorry that I didn’t tell you. I probably should have, but you always felt terrible about keeping this all a secret, and that only got more intense after the letters started. It had to be a surprise for Corinthia, and I knew that you would spill the beans by the time I made it. It took our ship three and a half years to get here. That is a markèd improvement over the eighteen years it took Corinthia and her mother, Alizée, but I was pretty sure the Valkyries would fly away early enough for you to tell Corinthia the truth. I know what your next question will be. Why didn’t I try to bring you with me? I did try. There was a hard age limit. I was almost too old to qualify. The cutoff was 40, and there are only a few of us around that age. Most of the passengers are in their 20s. But I knew you would be okay. What I didn’t know was that I would be declared missing, and presumed dead. This was all done through the Earth Restoration Project. I thought we were all on the same page, but we got our wires, and someone apparently didn’t know what the cover story was. So I’m really sorry about that, but I’m fine, and I look forward to your response.

With all my love,

Your son, Condor, and your daughter, Corintha

PS: This is Velia! I’m here too!

Wednesday, April 30, 2025

Microstory 2398: Vacuus, May 13, 2182

Generated by Google VideoFX text-to-video AI software, powered by Veo 2
Dear Pascal,

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

Your loving daughter,

Corinthia

Tuesday, April 29, 2025

Microstory 2397: Earth, May 5, 2182

Generated by Google VideoFX text-to-video AI software, powered by Veo 2
Dear Corinthia,

I regret to inform you that my son, Condor Sloane has been missing since January 4, 2180. I was made aware that he was hired for a new job working with a global outfit that has since been defunct. They were trying to restore this planet to its original health before the toxins, and while they were moderately successful, they have since lost all steam, and talent. Condor could have been a great asset to them, but he never made it to their rendezvous point in the North Queensland Dome. The initial suspicion was that his truck broke down on his way out there, and he succumbed to the environment after life support ran out, or that he crashed, and lost life support right away. I spent weeks combing the desert, looking for any sign of him. I searched the road, I searched off the road, I searched detours, I searched everywhere. And once I had finished searching everywhere I thought he could possibly be, I began to search everywhere else. I heard reports of someone spotting him somewhere near Bowen Orbital Spaceport, but when I went to investigate there, I couldn’t corroborate the witness’ story, and when I tried to reach out, this witness was nowhere to be found either. I’m sure it was just a prank. For the last two years, though, I’ve kept searching. I’ve run down every lead. He didn’t just disappear into thin air. I thought maybe my old neighbor had gotten to him, or Condor’s old nurse. They have both lied, and maybe there was more to the study that Condor was on the verge of discovering, and they had to shut him up. Or maybe they just wanted to study him again. Maybe us asking all these questions only served to renew their interests in the endeavor. I found nothing. I found no evidence of anything. My best guess at this point is that he ended up in the water, somewhere along Australia’s eastern coast. It would be impossible to find him under these conditions. It could have happened anywhere from Old Brisbane to the Blackbraes dome. I wish that I had better news, and I wish I could keep going, but I buried my son. I held a funeral for him, and everything. I’m an old man now, and can’t keep traveling like I used to. I’ve recently settled in a region that was once called Ecuador. The poisonous gases are still here, and it’s still deadly to go outside, however, this close to the equator, the sunshine is able to break through. You can see the sky from the ground during the day, and shortly after nightfall, you can even make out a few stars before the particles recongregate, and it fogs over once more. It’s a highly coveted place to live, and a great place to retire. Condor would say that I’ve earned it, and I’m trying to honor him that way. I’m sorry. I know he meant a lot to you. It was a lovely service, you deserved to be there. I should have recorded it for you. I just wasn’t thinking. I’ve attached the program, though, so you can imagine having been there.

Bittersweet to hear from you again after all this time,

Pascal