Microstory 2775: Course Correction

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The lab that Elise was in with Miracle and Reagan disappears, and is replaced with Elise’s own apartment in Abodome. The first thing she sees is the front door closing. Someone seemingly just left, so she needs to find out who. She sprints over to it and opens it back up. She looks down the hallway and sees herself. Well, she sees the back of her own head. She recognizes the outfit too. This is it. This is the day that she and her friends officially began their hunt under Treasure Hunting Dome. She has gone back in time, just as Rae and Mir said she would. The question is, though, what now?

They didn’t actually give her any instructions. They didn’t say what she was supposed to change. She doesn’t have any experience in this, and they know that. Or they will know that, because at this point in time, she hasn’t met either of them yet. What they did to her was isolate her from everyone she cares about. There is no one she can trust without risking the timeline, and even if there were, they wouldn’t be able to help her anyway. She’s going to have to figure this out on her own. First things first, treat this like any other challenge on the hunt. According to Rage’s explanation of how they typically go, the last challenge often involves memory. You have to keep track of where you went and what you did, and regurgitate that in some way.

Elise tries to sit down at her computer, but her chair isn’t designed with wings in mind. She has to use the kitchen stool, which isn’t comfortable either because she still can’t lean back, but at least she’s not leaning forward. She opens a new file and starts to retrace her steps. She starts more general, and becomes more specific, adding the minutest of details to get a full picture of what happened once the hunt began. She color-codes it by actions she took, actions others took, and actions done to them by the game. She then goes in and adds even more information, about things that she wasn’t there for. She lists things that other hunters did, and tries to guess what Hrockas and Azad were doing in the meantime. She makes it a full, comprehensive bible of the whole ordeal, from start to finish. She even goes back to include events leading up to minute one, even though some of it is already in the past from her current perspective.

There is one interesting development; a mystery which they never solved. When the hunters were circling the desert, looking for their next clue, Minotaur went missing. They said someone in robes grabbed them and they tried to get away and lost their jacket, but the attacker quickly caught up to them. Elise looks over at her bed where she laid the robe that Reagan hung over her at the very last second. She goes over to it and picks it up. “Could this be it? Was it me the whole time?” But if so, she’s not come back to change the past. She can’t; it’s inevitable. She’s merely following in her own footsteps. Nothing will go better this time, because this isn’t a different time. Unless there’s a third Elise around here somewhere. She suddenly starts to feel like she’s being watched.

Elise paces the room. “What was it Miracle said once about time travel? If you don’t have proof that something didn’t happen, there’s a chance it happened.” She stands there and ponders that for a moment. Then she goes right back to her timeline document and reads the part about the desert again. “If you don’t have proof it didn’t happen, it might have happened,” she whispers. She nods, a little excited and more determined. “Right there. That’s my shot. I don’t have to change it if I assume it’s already happened.” She grabs the robe, drapes it over her body again, and disappears.

Elise has spent weeks practicing teleportation and flying. She has worked out every day to build up her strength. She went to a biotailor to improve her substrate even more. They reinforced her wings and increased the density of her muscles while lowering the density of her bones. It’s a trade-off, but she needs to be both strong and light. Her mission doesn’t necessarily involve being better than she already was, but why waste this opportunity? She has to do something while the timeline catches up.

She learned a few things about her temporal abilities. She can teleport from the real world to the Facsimile at will. It takes an extra boost of energy, but not as much as she figured at first. She also learns how many jumps she can do before she runs out, and she learns that she can actually increase her numbers by being more efficient, and even processing more temporal energy from wherever it comes from. The time for training is now over, though. This is the show. She packs the essentials, some of which she had to...borrow from a secure location, throws her robe back on, and heads off to work.

She is in the desert now, and has been for a couple of days. She intentionally came a little early in case something went wrong, but she also isn’t entirely sure when her past self and her friends will show up. They didn’t have timepieces with them at the time. She knows where they’ll end up, however, so she’s on her belly, watching that spot with binoculars. The robe can shift colors, as most clothing can in the modern world, so she just looks like a crest in the sand dune. She has learned to be still and patient too. She didn’t set out to do that, but it came naturally with all of her other training.

They’re here. Elise watches Azad transport them all before leaving with Hrockas and Telman. Now it’s just the hunters. She can’t hear, but she knows what they’re talking about. She waits until they spread out, triggering her window. She teleports directly to Minotaur, and after a brief struggle, relocates them to the rocket maze. Then she returns to her perch to wait for her next move. She sees them reunite and argue about what to do, and she sees Miracle teach her how to take control of her body. She watches as her past self gets trapped on the surface with Colley, where they both surrender to their budding romance, only to be caught by the others after they complete the underground maze. They all then go back down there to learn the truth about Rage.

This is it; it’s happening. Elise knew that she would be successful with Mino, because it already happened to her, but this is the real change. This is what she’s been actually training for. The ship blares as it begins to ascend. The ground shakes and gives way. Future!Elise has to start hovering to keep from slipping down the dune like an ant in an antlion’s pit. She slowly gets closer to get a better look, still worried about being spotted by someone. Past!Elise is now trying to hang on to both Colley and Zelda, but she’s not strong enough yet. Colley volunteers to let go, but Zelda beats him to it.

Future!Elise uses her friend-finding ability to teleport to exactly where Zelda is. She grabs her by the waist, and jumps them both back to the inside of the rising rocket.

“Whoa! How did you do that?” Zelda asks, trying to orient herself. “How did you do that? What are you wearing? How is your hair green now? Where’s Colley?”

“He’s fine.” Elise replies. She takes out two vacuum suit cartridges, placing one on Zelda’s chest, and the other on her own. The nanites emerge from the cartridge and wrap themselves around them to protect them from space exposure. She did it, they won. Didn’t they?

Microstory 2771: Three-Two-One Liftoff, Jetpack, Shoot Into Space

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Elise and Colley learn that the maze the other team members were making their way through is a rocket buried in the ground narratively from crashing. It’s heavily damaged, and not likely spaceworthy, so they’re pretty sure that their goal was never to learn how to pilot it. It is of apparent alien design, based on the mysterious writings and glyphs all over the place. One particular room off of what they believe to be the bridge is calling out to them, like path funneling in a video game. It just looks important. This is partially because it sits opposite the exit that led them back to their friends on the surface. This hunt is all about movement. It must be the next step in their journey.

They came across other locked doors, but they served mainly as dead ends for the maze portion of the challenge, because if the ship were real, it probably wouldn’t have actually been designed as a maze on purpose. This room is different, and they think Colley may be able to figure out how to unlock it. Their best guess is that it’s a puzzle.

Colley is standing at the door now, looking at the symbols carved into it, having already examined the writing on the consoles. Elise stands a little to the side. She has no idea what the symbols mean, but she’s watching Colley’s facial expressions closely. He doesn’t look like he’s studying them. His face is solemn and reflective. At times, it’s unclear if he’s looking at anything at all, or simply staring into space. After a moment, he pivots 45 degrees to look over at Rage. “You’ve always known.”

“What?” Rage questions. “I’ve always known what?”

Colley quietly looks back at the door. “You’ve always known we would end up here. Or maybe you thought this time would be different...that you could change it.” He looks back over at her again. “Which is it? Hope, or inevitability.”

Rage looks as confused as before, but then her face falls into cold understanding. “I did what I had to do. We’re so close. Next time, we’ll make it all the way, I know it.”

“What is going on?” Jolanda questions. “What are you two talking about?”

Colley begins to look around. “The door is dead. We got here too late.”

“There’s power,” Zelda reasons. “We can figure out how to reroute it to the door.”

“No,” Colley contends, shaking his head. “It’s not that kind of door. It’s powered by time, and the clock ran out before we even stepped foot in the maze.” He faces Minotaur. “Do you have any idea who brought you down here? Did you catch a glimpse? Any clue whatsoever?”

“No, why? I assumed it was Azad, or a programmed Ambient, like those pirates.”

“I don’t think they were supposed to grab you,” Colley begins. “I think someone was trying to help us get down here faster. It turned out to not be enough because of the other delays we faced, like Elise’s death, and Miracle’s surprise return. Rage knows more about it. She’s been here before. Haven’t you, Rage? You’ve been through all of this.”

“It’s not like that,” Rage says. “They give us different challenges every time. Even this last one is different. It’s the same crashed ship, but the path is always changed. That’s why I started recruiting Mino, so they would help us get through it faster. But like the man said, it wasn’t enough. The countdown has already begun.”

“Explain,” Minotaur presses. “What do you mean you started recruiting me?”

Rage sighs. “I don’t have the whole history, because I’m not always the designated survivor, but—you have to understand that at first, a part of me thought they were just dreams. When I could remember past attempts, I thought my brain was just making it up, because the memories don’t really feel like mine. The more time passes, the more I realize that they’re real, and I start actively trying to change things.”

“Ah,” Miracle says. “You don’t store all of your thoughts in the network. You learned how to keep them in another dimension. I probably taught you how. Though, if I did, why would I not have those memories?”

“Because you have to be the one who survives,” Rage explains. She points at the mysterious door. “Once we open that, two things will happen. The ship will ascend, and bathe this whole dome in exhaust and radiation. The dome is smaller than it looks. A single-person pod will unlock, and allow one of us to survive. That person’s consciousness alone will continue, go back to the beginning, and recruit everyone to try again. It’s usually me. We vote and agree that it will be me since I’ve become the one with the most context. I think I sometimes just don’t make it this far so you have to pick someone else. I have been trying different ways of winning, but delays add up. Speeding through it won’t work either, because it usually just ends up getting everybody killed. I made one huge change this time which got us closer than ever.”

“What did you change?” Zelda asks.

Rage looks over at Elise. “I recruited a seventh hunter. She was the missing piece. If we go one more time, I know that we can make it. You just have to let me get in that pod one more time. Once I regain access to the right equipment, I will send my consciousness back in time, like I always do, and restart. Please, trust me.”

“How can we trust you?” Colley questions. “You have been lying this whole time. Did you ever think of reading us in, and maybe we would work through it better?”

“Of course I’ve tried that,” Rage contends. “Those iterations go worse than any. We get in our own heads, and we get in our own way. Placing my trust in you is what gets us far, as well as thinking outside the box, like when I found Elise.”

“Why can’t we just walk out here right now?” Elise asks. She dips her head a little. “I can still see light coming in through the executive exit. We’ll go back to the desert, armed with water this time, and make our way to the wall. We won’t win the hunt, but all of our memories will remain intact, rather than only yours.”

Rage shakes her head. “We’ve tried that too. As soon as one person steps over that threshold, the ship takes off and burns them alive before they cross the desert. Anyone who manages to hold on and stay inside when that happens asphyxiates once the ship reaches altitude.”

“Well, we could teleport,” Elise turns to face the person who knows the most about all this time travel stuff. “Miracle, I’m surely charged up by now, aren’t I?”

Miracle nods. “You probably are, but you can only take two people at a time.”

“Yeah,” Rage agrees. “Miracle managed to retain her own powers in one iteration but that didn’t work either, because the ship launched, and I guess triggered some kind of teleportation suppression field. That’s when she taught me how to send my consciousness into the past. We were hoping to subvert the challenge changes, but we later decided that we decide what challenges come up, based on our dynamic and capacity for teamwork, which changes constantly. That’s why I didn’t tell you. I was trying to keep everything as predictable as possible.”

“But you said that I’m new,” Elise reasons. “You made a change, but also tried to keep everything the same? Which is it?”

“It’s both,” Rage answers. “It’s complicated. I’m sorry. It’s gonna happen again.”

Elise shakes her head. “What if I flew people out of here?” Elise asks. She turns to Miracle again. “I think I’m strong enough. The ship has to escape the dome somehow, right? It is a spaceship, after all, and there’s no outer space inside the dome.”

When Miracle defers to Rage, the latter goes on. “I once climbed into the escape pod, but intentionally didn’t escape right away, to see what would happen. Yes, it does fly all the way into space. You’re not strong enough to carry six people, though.”

“She won’t have to carry all six,” Miracle claims. She begins to stretch and roll her neck. “There’s a reason I’ve been so subdued since Hrockas made me come back in a different body. I’ve been focusing on induced limb growth.” She tenses up like she’s having a baby, and hunches her back. Two beautiful white angel wings sprout from her shoulder blades, and unfold before their eyes. It looks a little painful, but once it’s over, she smiles and breathes. “Ahhh, loophole!”

“Oh my God,” Zelda says. “That’s bad ass. You have to teach me how to do that.”

“There’s a problem, though,” Miracle says as she’s flapping her new wings, presumably to get used to them. “I couldn’t will myself to have superstrength, and it doesn’t sound like Elise has it either. I reckon we can each only take two passengers.”

“Someone’s going to have to stay behind,” Zelda realizes. “There’s apparently usually only one survivor, but this time, there will be one death. How poetic.”

“I’ll do it,” Colley volunteers. “Before you say anything, I don’t have any special argument in favor of it, but the way I see it, I called it first, so I win. I shouldn’t have to explain myself. I don’t have this big speech about what I learned, and what will happen to my alternate self when he wakes up with no memories. This is just gonna be what happens. So go on and yell all you want, but I’m not budging.”

Rage looks at him like he’s an idiot. “There’s still an escape pod,” she reminds him. “It’s got my name on it. I’ll take that. You take the ride.”

“Oh, yeah, that makes sense,” Colley agrees. “But we have to time it right.”

Everyone gets into position. Rage prepares to open the door with the code while the flyers stand at the exit, their respective passengers on either side of them. On Rage’s mark, they fly out of the hatch as fast as they can. Miracle gets going quickly, which triggers the launch sequence. Elise is having more trouble. Her wings may not be as fragile as a real Luna moth’s, but they’re not made of carbon nanotubes either. They’re still organic, and she still has limitations.

They’re only a few meters over the surface, and Elise is fighting just to stay at that level. She just can’t reach elevation. As she’s flapping her wings as hard as possible, they look down and see the sand slipping away from them like an hourglass. She’s not getting higher; the ground is getting lower as the ship displaces it with its initial lift off. The boosters are just about to fire and burn them to death. They have to go now.

“I guess I am gonna sacrifice myself!” Colley yells, obviously preparing to let go.

“No!” Elise cries. “Just hold on! I can do this!”

“There’s no time!” Colley shouts. “Don’t argue with me! Save Zelda!”

“Save Zelda?” Zelda questions. “I was born for this.” She lets go and plummets towards her death. “Wooooo!” They lose her amidst the rain of sand below.

Now there’s really no time...no time to mourn, no time to dwell. Elise tightens her grip on Colley, and flies up towards the zenith as flames nip at their heels.

Microstory 2767: Spread Your Wings and Fly Away

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Microstory 2766: Winner’s Circle

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It begins as a pinprick of consciousness as Elise becomes acutely aware of the passage of time, even though there are no external stimuli. She isn’t truly thinking about anything. She is only mindful of her own ability to think. At first, she believes there might be a tiny light before her, but it may simply be her imagination...but does she even have an imagination anymore? She tries to come up with other things to occupy her mind, but nothing comes. She can’t even articulate in her head an idea of what ideas she should be able to come up with. No categories of thoughts, no things, no things to do or have done. She is nothing more than a thinking thing. A thinking thing called Elise. So that’s something at least. She is someone. She is a someone with a name, and if she has a name it must mean there are other someones with their own names. But who?

Elise quietly screams at her own brain. Wake up. Think. Think about something, anything. It doesn’t have to be important, it doesn’t have to be major. Don’t just sit here in the silence like a moth in the dark. A moth? What is a moth? It must be something, or she wouldn’t have a word for it. What is a word? What are things? What is anything? Go back to the moth. A moth is...a moth is something that is. It’s something that...flies. It has wings. Flying wings. And hair and eyes. Elise should have eyes. She has seen things before. She has seen moths. She has smelled the hot and cold nights as the weather transitions from summer to autumn. There she goes thinking about more things again. This time, it’s the seasons. There are two others: winter and spring. Spring is her favorite. Tofu is her favorite food. She eats. She is a person. She has a mouth.

She is Elise Perkins and she is in a race. No, an expedition. A quest? No. It’s a hunt. It’s a treasure hunt. She is a treasure hunter. Her name is Elise Perkins, Treasure Hunter. She has a mouth, a nose, and lucky her, two eyes. Also two ears. She’s hearing something. She’s hearing something with her ears. It’s...it’s talking. Other people. Other people with names. She can hear them. She can hear, but she can’t see. Why? Eyelids. She opens. Still dark, but less dark. A hint of light. Light behind...a visor. Her mouth, it doesn’t only eat. It also speaks. It screams. “Help!”

The visor slides away.

“Elise?” someone asks. “Elise, can you hear me? Are you there? Elise!”

“She opens her mouth but the words won’t come. Who said that? It sounded like the way Elise sounded like when she could sound like something. But she doesn’t sound like anything because when she opens her mouth, the words won’t come out.”

“You can’t use your mouth,” a different person claims. “You don’t have an airway anymore. But the helmet can convert your thoughts into sounds. Just think what you want to say, and it will come out. Go ahead and try again,” they encourage.

“Rubber baby buggy bumpers,” the helmet says. “Gina Linetti Spaghetti Confetti.” A face. Elise’s famous two eyes have adjusted to the light and can see when there is something that isn’t light. “That is definitely a face. It’s a very pretty face. She used to know what to call it. Whatever the face’s name, Elise may be falling in love with it.”

The face smiles. “Thank you. My name is Rage. You are Elise Perkins.”

“I know that,” Elise replies. “I am Elise. I have a face. I have a head. Do I have anything else?” She tries to tilt her chin down, but it won’t move. She can’t move at all.

Another person sighs. “You don’t have anything else. You only have a head.”

“Mino? A little more tact?” someone says to the person who has no tact.

“It’s okay,” Elise insists. “I am Elise Perkins, Treasure Hunter, a.k.a Ladymoth. I don’t need anything more than a head, because my head is where I do all my thinking.”

“Do you remember what happened?” the Rage face asks.

“I remember...” Elise begins. “I remember ice.”

“There was ice on the track during the race,” Rage confirms. “You sacrificed yourself so that your friend, Jolanda could make it across the finish line. You managed to defeat the last automated racecar, so she didn’t have to get there quickly. She had time to get out of her car, find your head, and carry it across with her. Now we’re in the winner’s lounge. Only six of us could win. I’m not sure what that means for you yet.”

“We’re not sure what this means for any of us,” Zelda adds. Yes, that’s Zelda.

Elise’s memories are starting to come back to her now. She feels like she’s becoming herself again. They lounge there for about an hour. The normal humans eat while Elise focuses on her recovery. The Custodians are not letting them out of this room, or they would seek medical attention for her. For now, she’s sitting on a snack table. Watching her friends talk is helping a lot. After they’re done eating, she finds that she’s pretty much back to her old self. She is centuries old, so there are a ton of memories that have not yet resurfaced, but they’re not paramount to her core.

While they’re just sitting around doing nothing, the lights begin to flicker. It’s not like a lightbulb is burnt out, though. It’s clearly intentional, like the theatre warning the audience that intermission is over. Out of the corner of her eye, Elise can see the door open, though she’s not at the right angle to see who. She needs her legs back.

“Hello,” comes the voice of a man. She recognizes it, but can’t place it.

“Hello,” Colley says, intentionally positioning himself directly in front of Elise.

“Please, Mister Rochelle.” Hrockas, the owner of the planet. That’s who this is. “Do you honestly believe that I am not cognizant of the severed head you’re keeping on the table? If I didn’t want death survival to be an option, I would not have commissioned those helmets in the first place. The plan was to keep any heads in their comas while the winners moved on, then transfer their consciousnesses to their respective backups so they could recall as much of the hunt as they were here for.”

Colley steps off so Elise can see. “We can’t trust you. You’re not taking her.”

Hrockas nods. “Now that you have reinitialized her, taking her is no longer a decent option. The reason we left you in here for so long is the producers and I needed to figure out how to move forward. The truth is, not anywhere near this many was expected to survive. Some of the bots were easy, but some were hard. You destroyed them all, and through a loophole, managed to keep your entire group together on the other side. It’s impressive, I admit. But the challenge we had planned will no longer work. Funnily enough, however, the challenge reward is now more relevant than ever.”

“Whatever the reward,” Jolanda says, “it’s not worth it if Elise can’t compete.”

Hrockas smiles. “That’s the irony. The sudden death challenge is quite literal. Whoever wins, dies...and will be given a superior substrate. It would be cruel to force you to compete if the one person who genuinely needed it stood no chance. That’s what we had to change. Now it is no longer physical, but a contest of wits. Elise has a shot.”

“I forfeit the challenge,” Colley volunteers immediately.

“That’s fine,” Hrockas says, “but it comes with a penalty for the next challenge.”

The others forfeit too. Elise is getting a new body.

Microstory 2764: Ghostriders

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In this post-scarcity economy, gold is not valueless. It’s actually quite useful. It has a number of applications in electronics, aerospace engineering, and even medicine. It’s used for all sorts of mundane things. And that’s because, in this day and age, destroying entire planets only to extract their raw material is on its way to becoming a matter of it being Tuesday.

Many treasure hunts end with a cache of precious metals and jewels. They’re not usually quite this extensive, but they signal the end of the challenge. The accomplishment of that challenge is the real prize. Hunters usually don’t even take the treasure, but leave it for the next batch, or if they do, they take only a small trinket to remind them of the good memories. No one needs this much, except major engineering operations. The disappointing part, however, is not the letdown of the prize itself, but that the hunt might be over. They went through a lot, but they still expected more.

They tie the boat off, and step out. They begin to walk around on the cave floor between the piles and piles of goblets, coins, bars, crowns, and other accessories. They’re going to spread out to look for clues. There has to be something, whether this is the end or not. Every hunt tells you when you’re done in no uncertain terms. It’s never simply implied. They don’t need fanfare, just undeniable proof.

“Don’t touch anything,” Minotaur warns. “It’s sometimes a literal booby trap, and sometimes a curse to teach of the dangers of greed, or whatever.”

“We might need to dig,” Jolanda points out. “A clue might be under the gold.”

“You’re right,” Minotaur admits. “Just don’t take anything.”

“Should we look for something special?” Elise asks them. “Like the only blue gemstone, or something anachronistic or out of place?”

“That’s a good idea,” Mino agrees. “Most everything is probably a distraction. The important thing will be simple or not valuable to the pirates we’re pretending to be.”

“Something out of place,” Zelda begins, “like this?” She’s standing beside what initially appeared to be the cave wall. But she’s opening it like a door. It’s heavy, so she and Miracle hold it open for everyone to walk through single-file.

They’re now standing in another locker room. The lights are flickering on for them. Their names are on their respective lockers again. Colley is the first to open his.

“What is that?” Rage asks. “What is that for?”

Jolanda is frowning. “Racing. That’s a racer’s uniform, including the helmet.”

“Why do you look so upset?” Rage questions. “This is right up your alley.”

“Because I know I’m gonna win, and I might have to hurt you to do it.”

“I don’t understand,” Elise says. “Don’t listen to Hrockas when he says only one person can win. We don’t have to follow his rules all throughout. We’re in charge here.” She said it, but she doesn’t mean it. They’re really not. She’s just trying to be positive.

“This is a headless racing uniform,” Jolanda begins to clarify. “It’s a niche race that kind of went obsolete. The helmet gives it away. You see, they didn’t just suddenly come up with mind-transference and uploading technology. It was a grind. There was a time when updates were periodic, rather than continuous. It was metaphysically scary. But not as scary as this. No updates, but a local chip implanted in your head. You see, unless you’re an octopus, the head is the only place where your brains are stored. And it’s a lot easier to protect that above all else.

“Some astronauts were given these kinds of helmets. If something went wrong—if all else failed—your spinal column is severed, and your head is preserved. You lose consciousness, so someone has to retrieve you, and give you a new body. This tech came out of the private sector, so while they had government contracts, they also had private ones. This gave rise to the deadliest format of racecar driving. The ancillary tech wasn’t that reliable. Racers occasionally died because sometimes, their heads were destroyed as well, because of-freaking-course they were. Or sometimes the reintegration process simply didn’t work. They signed waivers, but it was a dark time in our history. Now, with consciousness streaming, the races can technically be deadlier, but reliably temporary.”

“This,” Zelda says. “This is why Hrockas gave us an out. It wasn’t all the storms.”

“Can’t we all pile into a car together?” Elise reasons. “Even compact cars can fit seven if you’re creative and willing to get really familiar with each other’s bodies.”

“The cars are too small. You wouldn’t be able to fit two people,” Jolanda clarifies.

“Now, let’s all calm down,” Rage tells them when she notices everyone growing more stressed out about this. “All we see are the uniforms and helmets. We have no idea what’s waiting for us on the other side of those doors. We might have a choice of challenges. Those helmets might just be manufactured to look like decappers. Let’s first get changed, but keep the helmets off, and go outside. Sound okay?”

The seven of them gladly remove their tattered, disgusting tunics, shower down, and suit up. They walk through the set of doors beyond the showers holding their helmets. They expected to find seven cars waiting for them, but there are instead two dozen. It’s tempting to believe that they will have their pick of the litter, but they know they’re not that lucky. They’re going to be racing against some other team, or other individuals. This obviously raises the stakes. Now it’s plausible that none of them will win. Jolanda is the best driver in their group, but she’s not invulnerable.

What’s interesting about it is that seven cars are sitting separately from the other 17, so they don’t know what that’s about. While they’re examining the vehicles, and debating whether they should get in, or try something else, seven zombie ghosts appear before them. It’s the same ones from the sea before, and they know that, because they grew to be quite familiar with their distinctive looks, despite them all being undead. They’re on the other side of the cars, and end up walking straight through them as they approach the humans. They move much less menacingly than they did before. Once they are a couple of meters from the hunters, they stand there and wait.

“Oh,” Rage finally says. “I think we’re each meant to choose one. That happens on the regular hunts all the time. They don’t expect you to magically know how to complete a task. If it’s a skill, an expert will train you on it. I think they’re our driving instructors.”

“Them?” Miracle questions. “They don’t exactly look the part.”

“Maybe they’re shortstaffed,” Zelda jokes. She steps forward, and points at one.

The ghost reaches out and pantomimes taking her hand. As he’s leading her to a car, he growls but more in a grumpy way, rather than violent. The one-footed captain isn’t here, which would have been awkward since they seem to have personalities now.

Rage sighs and gives the other line of cars the side-eye. “I suppose we have no choice if we want to keep going. Pick your partner. The competition may be pretty fierce. We won’t know until we learn, and hopefully there’s no time limit, because we practiced driving, but we didn’t train for this.”

Microstory 2743: Dead Woman’s Switch

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They have figured it out. They know how to push the lab through a tear in the membrane of the universe, and enter the bulk. The breach will not be open long, and it will not be very big, but they will make it through as long as they have enough power.

“We don’t have enough power,” Sugar reports.

“We don’t?” Pribadium questions. “Are you sure?”

“I’m very sure,” Sugar replies. “I went over the calculations three times. If we try to squeeze both the outpost and Tau Station through the portal, probably neither of us will go through. It’s like that slapstick gag where two people try to enter the doorway at the same time. If we had more time, we could siphon energy and store it up, but then we would have to invent an entirely new type of battery, and that’s just not viable.”

“The barrier is upon us,” Runaway reminds them. “We barely have time for this.”

“Okay,” Pribadium says. “If we have to choose one, I choose the outpost. Runaway, could you please teleport everyone over here. Send them to the hangar bay.”

“I can’t do that,” Runaway argues. “I can only make them move in real space.”

“No, don’t put them back in the shuttles. That’s stupid. Moving them again makes no sense.” Pribadium looks around at the part of her outpost that she can see. She worked really hard on it, and never thought she would lose it. But she knows that it will be okay. Everything she built can be rebuilt, thanks to a little inspiration from an old friend. She runs over and starts to decouple her forge core. This has everything.

“What is that?” Sugar asks.

“We’re abandoning ship,” Pribadium replies. “It won’t take but a second to transport the four of us over to Tau Station.”

“It’s more than that,” Sora says, almost proud of himself for having realized. “You can’t open the rift thing from there, can you? You have to move your machine too.”

The three ladies stop and stare at him. It is becoming a habit. “We can’t do that. We can’t transport the machine. It’s integrated into the whole outpost,” Sugar reasons.

“Someone has to stay behind,” Pribadium decides. “Someone, meaning me.” Before Runaway can argue, she holds up a hand. “You have to stay with the people. That’s a given. Sugar, I may have needed you for your clarity of mind, but I still understand this tech better than anyone. There’s no argument to be had.”

“You can try to teleport over to us at the last second,” Sugar suggests.

“I will,” Pribadium promises, “but I won’t count on that. It’s okay. You’re an alternate version of me. You’re missing a lot of my memories, but they weren’t the most interesting ones anyway. If I die, I’ll do so knowing that a part of me still lives.”

“That was never good enough,” Sugar contends. “There’s a reason your Pribadium!Two didn’t want to be resurrected after her last moments weren’t recorded.”

“It will have to be,” Pribadium determines. “Now go. Take Sora with you.”

“No,” Sora says. “I stay with you. Don’t bother arguing, I’ve already linked us.”

“How exactly did you do that?” Pribadium asks him skeptically.

“I was afraid that you would throw me out an airlock,” Sora explains. “I connected us, so wherever I go, you go...within a certain range, of course. I am guessing that another universe falls outside of that range. I’m glad I did that now, just for different reasons.” He notices all the girls smirking. “What? You can’t undo it, can you?”

“No, Sor,” Pribadium says. “You just solved it. You made me a deadman’s switch.”

Microstory 2739: Nobody Exists on Purpose

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Fuck you, Chicken.”

Microstory 2738: Out-of-Context Problem

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Sora and Pribadium have no words. This is an out-of-context problem that neither of them can understand, especially not Sora. Pribadium comes on strongly once she does find the words, demanding to see this entity’s medpod results. She provides them freely. When her mind—whatever it is—downloaded into this substrate, it was not entirely coherent yet, but now she has a better understanding of what she is. The pod helped her relax so she could finish the integration process, and now she’s complete. She has since put on clothes, and is waiting patiently for a response from the humans.

Pribadium skims the data at first. “Your neural network is profoundly dense and complex. I can’t definitively say that it necessarily holds the...consciousness of a universe, but it’s certainly not the architecture of a normal human.”

“How could it be possible?” Sora questions. “The universe isn’t a thinking thing.”

“I’m not the personification of the universe itself,” Pribadium!Three—or whatever they should call her—explains. “You’re right, it doesn’t have a mind, and isn’t a person. It’s made up of a chaotic mess of baryonic matter and energy, held together by quintessence. Instead, I am the collective consciousness of everyone in the universe.”

Pribadium pauses to listen. “Wait, which universe, and how much of reality? Because if it’s the main sequence, we’re talking hundreds of billions of people. If it’s all of Salmonverse, it’s an undecillion.” That would be physically impossible. And it only includes sapient beings. What about the animals? Insects alone number in the trillions.

“It’s just the people in this pocket universe,” ...the Universe explains. They really need to come up with a real name for her. “So a few thousand people.”

“Ah, just the ones who got swept up in the transdimensional field,” Pribadium decides. “That sounds far more manageable, but still incredibly complicated. How are you feeling? All of my substrates are designed to be high-capacity, but I never imagined quite that number. Are they compressed? Are they dormant? Are you missing chunks?”

“All of those things,” the entity explains, “and more. I possess a highly efficient organizational structure, thanks to how you designed this substrate. When two source minds, for instance, shared a similar neural connection to each other, my mind averaged the associations, resulting in a more streamlined cognitive configuration.”

“So, you’re an entirely new person,” Sora figures. “You’re not the universe, you’re not an amalgamation. You’re a child...a child of all of us, with most of our memories.”

“That would be one way to put it,” the entity agrees.

“We need to come up with a name for you,” Sora decides. “For clarity.”

“Just call me Gatewood, I suppose,” she determines with a shoulder shrug.

“That would be ambiguous,” Sora replies. “And a bit impersonal.”

“That is not important right now,” Pribadium jumps back in. “Whoever you are, the medpod was not equipped to synthesize something of your nature. Nothing in my lab is. But with time, I can come up with something. Would you allow me to?”

“I trust you now, where I didn’t before. As I was saying, my mind was muddled when I first awoke, and your mind is not in here, but I know you second-hand.”

“Why wouldn’t I be in there?” Pribadium asks. “My alternate self, Pribadium!Two should have been a core consciousness. That’s who he was trying to save.”

“I wouldn’t know anything about that,” the woman says. “Go ahead and build what you need to build. I’m hungry. Do you have any fish fingers and custard?”

Microstory 2737: The Whole Universe

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Sora takes half a step forward. “You—”

“I will handle this,” Pribadium!One insists. “You have done quite enough, Mr. Shimizu.” She looks at her alternate self. “You were killed in a streaming dead zone,” she explains bluntly. “You were on a manned mission to explore and investigate a dimensional barrier. There is a gap between your memory and the moment of cessation. It is not entirely clear how long, though. Your consciousness may have been transmitted to the afterlife buffer. You may be a duplicate. I am sorry for your loss.”

The other Pribadium blinks as she looks between the two of them. “What is the last thing I should recall? Because I don’t remember any of that. I don’t know this dimensional barrier, I don’t know him, and I don’t know you.”

Pribadium!One winces. “I’m Pribadium, an alt of you.” She gestures towards her own face. “This is how we originally looked.” She stops for a moment to think. “Well, it’s not exactly how we used to look, but it’s fairly close. Who do you think you are?”

“I’m Pribadium,” the dupe contends, almost combatively. It doesn’t seem right to think of her as Pribadium!Two since so much has evidently been lost. “I don’t recognize your face at all. I don’t know what you mean by alt. I’m the only me that has ever been.”

Pribadium!One points to a nearby mirror. “Do you recognize that face?”

The other Pribadium walks towards it and touches her own chin and cheek. “Yes, this is the Stonehenge model. It explains why I have a British accent I suppose.”

“What did I do?” Sora questions. “Did I pull the wrong backup? I grabbed the second most recent one. I assumed the most recent one was you. It was time-stamped earlier today. There were no other iterations. How did this happen?” He is distraught.

Pribadium!One sighs. “There should have only been two, and you’re right, the most recent one would have been me. If you had pulled the wrong one, what should be happening is that she thinks she’s me. But she doesn’t think she’s either of us. Her mind has been entirely corrupted.” She clears her throat. “Pribadium!Three—that’s what we’re going to need to call you—I need to run some tests on you. Do I have your consent?”

Pribadium!Three stares at who she perceives to be a stranger. “I will run the tests. I don’t trust you, and I don’t need you.” She strips off what little clothing she has on, climbs into the nearest medical pod, and begins to operate it herself. She programs it for a full diagnostic run, which will include periods of unconsciousness. “I’m locking you out of the pod, but I would like you to leave the room as well.”

Pribadium!One starts to pull Sora away when he doesn’t move immediately.

“I’m sorry,” Sora desperately apologizes to the mysterious duplicate in the pod.

“It’s okay,” Pribadium!Three replies. “Je pense, donc je suis.”

Sora’s eyes widen, recalling that as the phrase he used for her as well. Still, he allows himself to be dragged out of the room. “Did you hear what she said?”

“Yes, it doesn’t mean anything. It’s only a coincidence,” Pribadium!One is not sure she believes that, though. She opens her mouth to continue, but he interrupts.

“Don’t say what you’re going to say. I know, I was rash and impulsive. I’m sorry.”

What’s done is done, so they just wait out in the corridor for Pribadium!Three to finish. She comes out half an hour later. “I know what I am now. I’m not Pribadium.”

“Who are you then?” Pribadium!One presses.

“I’m the universe.”

Microstory 2732: Tree of Thought

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Pribadium gives Sora a go in the equilibrium chamber. He likes it because anyone can use it, whether they have been biologically or technologically enhanced, or not. It doesn’t even have to be alive. Bulk forces act on every object with the force equal to its mass. This allows everything to stay in place unless moved by some other force. Sora places his cup of tea in front of him and to the side, as if there were a table there, and it stays. Gravity doesn’t exist here, atmospheric pressure doesn’t either. It doesn’t move until he reaches back for it. He even leaves it upside down, and it’s fine. He says that he forgot to have fun. Elke’s arrival, while it sparked love in him, was filled with so much anxiety and longing that he stopped enjoying daily life. He spent all of his time focused on her, both before and after her death. He can barely recall what his hobbies were. He would have loved to play in an equilibrium chamber back then, probably. Since he’s no scientist, he goes off to another area of the outpost to find his bliss.

Pribadium!One and Pribadium!Two, meanwhile, have work to get through. Their mission is to pull this small pocket of space out of the universe entirely, and let it exist as its own miniature universe. Once there, they will be able to travel to other branes, just like The Crossover or Zoey Attar. They will be able to adjust their own laws of physics, and explore new worlds. They will break new ground. Neither of them has ever done this before, but Pribadium!Two has more experience. She offered to transmit the memories and knowledge into Pribadium!One’s brain, but the latter declined. She wants to be herself, and not mix each other together.

“No, that’s not gonna work,” Pribadium!Two warns over her shoulder.

Pribadium!One sighs. “I’m starting an arboreal progression. I’ve not yet gotten to the pruning stage. Do you not remember how we work? How much have you changed?”

“No, I remember the arboreal technique. I just didn’t think you needed to start with a seed, since I already have a ton of hard data over here,” Pribadium!Two argues.

“Yes, I saw your data, but you were mostly looking at it from the main sequence. Now we’re in the new parallel. We have to start from scratch. We can compare notes later. But that won’t be until after my tree grows, after I prune it, and after I climb it.”

“After we climb it,” Pribadium!Two tries to correct.

“No, I want to climb it myself. It’s not that I don’t trust you, it’s that I’m trying to keep my work contained and isolated, so it stands up to future testing. I don’t want to be biased by your research. The very basis of science is reproducible results. If I can’t reproduce them without looking at your results first, they won’t hold up. In fact, why don’t you go down to the aux lab, so we don’t even occupy the same space.”

“Why would I go to the aux lab? I’m the one who needs the main servers for the simulations. You’re still a seedling!” Pribadium!Two contends

“Oh, the servers down there are fine,” Pribadium!One reasons dismissively.

Pribadium!Two shakes her head. “No, I have been upgrading the primaries.”

“You have?” Pribadium!One pushes her alt self aside to check her workstation. “Goddammit, I didn’t give you permission to make changes. Now I’ll need to reconfigure all of my preferences. Just because you technically have credentials, doesn’t mean you should use them. This is my lab. Yours is in another reality. Please respect that.”

“I suppose we need to come up with some ground rules before we proceed.”

“I suppose we do,” Pribadium!One agrees.