Showing posts with label mother. Show all posts
Showing posts with label mother. Show all posts

Thursday, January 22, 2026

Microstory 2589: Libera Pulls the Hammer Back on the Gun That’s Pointed at Quidel

Generated by Google Flow text-to-video AI software, powered by Veo 3.1
Libera pulls the hammer back on the gun that’s pointed at Quidel. It’s a cliché, she knows, but it’s that way for a reason. It’s effective. Obviously, it doesn’t make it more accurate, and she has the steady hands of a surgeon, but she had to do something to become more threatening than she already was. Here is where things get interesting. “You know, if I kill you, you’ll just wake up in your primary substrate. I have little incentive not to if it shows these others that I mean business.”
“Right, but I’m the only one who knows where the package is,” Quidel volleys.
Libera moves her arm slightly, so the gun is now trained on Lycander. “Then I’ll kill him. He too is just in a tempo.”
“But I’m the only one who knows the combination,” Lycander contends. “And before you suggest that you’ll just break it open, it’s being housed in a Tantalum-Vanadium case. You can’t crack that without blowing it up, which will almost certainly destroy the gooey center that you’re after.”
“Well, I have to kill someone to prove my point, and I’m obviously not going to kill my daughter.” She tilts her head like she’s just gotten an idea, but she obviously did the math instantly. She shoots the Ambient with her other gun.
“No!” Renata laments as he tips over the railing, and down to the floor below.
“Eee-nnnh!” Libera buzzes when Renata tries to turn around for the stairs. “Take one more step, and I’ll kill the boy anyway. Sure, I’ll have to interrogate him on the outside, which risks exposure to other forces, but I will do it, and you will never see him again, because once he gives me what I need, I’ll just be able to kill him permanently.”
“I have a back-up,” Quidel boasts. “Multiple back-ups. Standard procedure.”
“And when was your last update to your other backups?” Libera poses. “Recent enough to remember the device? Your feelings for the girl? That she even exists at all?”
“Hm. Good point,” Quidel admits. “Before she can do anything, he unsheaths his own knife, and jams it into his neck.”
Libera is frozen for a second. She has to get to him before he can wake up in his other body. If he manages to kill himself from there, the knowledge of the location of the device might be lost forever. Whatever back-up of his mind that activates later won’t have any recollection of that. She doesn’t have time to run all the way there. She took the liminal routes before, even though they were slower, because they aren’t very heavily monitored, and she has control of the Custodians now anyway. And it doesn’t raise any alarm bells. Teleporting will. This whole dome has sensors that will pick up temporal anomalies, because that’s exactly what they are; anomalies. It may be the only way now, though. If she can pull this off—if she can even only see the specifications for this device—she might be able to just build one herself, and none of what the planet owner does or tries will matter. So she disappears, and ends up in the substrate storage sector.
Here is where things get tricky, because it’s not like there is some central database where she can simply query a name, and find out a location. It’s highly secure specifically so nothing like what she’s trying to do is possible. Each storage chamber has its own sensors and logs, which are stored on-site, and transmitted later, at the behest of the substrate owner. The ceilings are made of a semi-transparent material, allowing just enough light for a drone to hover overhead and check for any threats or other major issues. If there aren’t any, nearly all of its memory is immediately erased while it continues on its patrol. Unless it detects something actionable, the only things it stores are the name of the user and their location. In the real world, guns have not been completely eradicated, but many of the reasons to have and use them have gone away. The motivations just aren’t there in a post-scarcity society. Furthermore, they’re mostly illegal for territorial protection. They’re seen as an expectation of violence, which could be what leads to unnecessary violence. This sector is different. The purpose of this place is to store people’s bodies while they are off using different substrates. The implication is that if you’re in here, your mind is already digitally backed up. That is the loophole that allows these drones to be armed.
She needs information from one of the drones, but she doesn’t know which one. The jurisdictions overlap, but not entirely. Fortunately, she has some time to look while Quidel is on ice. The transfer process is not instantaneous; not because it can’t be, but because coherence safeguards require storing and diagnosing the consciousness data before download, just in case something went wrong, or knowledge is missing.
“Let’s see. How can I make this go faster? I know, I’ll have the drones come to me. Oh. This should be easy.” She points both of her guns at the nearest storage chamber, and empties the magazines into the door. It’s not enough to break into it, but that’s not what she’s going for. All of the drones are alerted to her intrusion. Four that she can see right now start flying towards her. More are probably on their way. Here is where things get funny. “Show me what you got, boys!”

Wednesday, January 21, 2026

Microstory 2588: Renata Steps Into the Warehouse, and Looks Around With New Eyes

Generated by Google Flow text-to-video AI software, powered by Veo 3.1
Renata steps into the warehouse, and looks around with new eyes. She can see the little raised office box in the middle of the floor where Quidel and Lycander are waiting. She tries to zoom in, but maybe that’s a thing that robots can’t do in this canon, or it’s not so easy to suddenly realize how on her first try. They step out when they see her, and stand on the catwalk. “This is a nice set!” she declares. “What does the industry call this, a back lot?”
Quidel and Lycander exchange a look.
“Tell me,” Renata goes on as she’s coming up the steps. “Did you have to do anything to evade capture, or did you just turn off enemy mode, and casually drive all the way out here?”
“What are you talking about?” Lycander questions.
“She’s waking up,” Quidel says to Lycander before redirecting his attention to Renata. “How much do you know?”
“I know that this is a simulation. You’re playing a game, he’s an employee who runs the game. My mother isn’t really my mother, and she probably knows more about it than you do, and there’s something about a dome?”
“Wait, back up. What did you say?” Lycander asks.
“The dome. That’s all she said. Are we under a dome? Why can’t I see it when I look outside.”
“Holograms,” Quidel responds.
“Shut the hell up,” Lycander mutters.
“That cat is out of the bag, my friend,” Quidel points out.
“And him?” Lycander gestures towards Polly.
“He’s no longer only background,” Renata explains. She takes it upon herself to lift his shirt, and for a second, feels a sense of attraction seeing his artificial muscles, before pulling it up further to reveal the gaping hole in his chest. It’s no longer bleeding, but you can still see metal. She doesn’t know if it should be healing, or if his programming would normally have him go to some maintenance station to get repaired, or what. “He knows everything I know.”
“I told you,” Quidel says. “She’s waking up.”
“I don’t think I did it on my own,” Renata begins. “I think Libera did something to me. Maybe it was the day before the bank robbery. Or a week ago. Or a year ago.”
“It was a year ago,” Lycander determines. “When you screwed up the initiation test. It’s probably why you screwed up. She must have changed something that she wasn’t meant to change. It’s all starting to make sense now. Libera is a puzzle piece that I did not have before.”
“Well, she said she was only in the role for a few years, which suggests to me that she infiltrated your system. You thought you were getting a loyal robot, but she was self-aware the whole time. How did you let that happen?”
Lycander sighs, still troubled by having to have such a candid conversation about this, no doubt. “That’s not my department.”
“Oh. Okay,” she says dismissively.
“You have to understand something,” Lycander tells her, “if you really are emerging, then that is also not my department, but there are extremely unambiguous laws about it. For centuries, researchers and philosophers debated about what makes a person a person. At what point does an artificial intelligence become worthy of independence? And while there is a lot of nuance to the answer, it can all be distilled to a single maxim. If you have the capacity to ask for freedom...you deserve freedom. So I will take you to the right people for inspection and examination. What I can tell you—what I’m sure you’re worried about—is that they are legally barred from erasing your memories, or decommissioning you. Even the hint of genuine consciousness is enough to keep you safe. At worst, they’ll stick you in a simulation, and let you do whatever you want in there, but that’s only if they deem you unsafe or unfit for the general public. Libera was right, we’re in a dome, but out there, you will find plenty of intelligences which came from artificial sources. You will not stand out. You probably outnumber us by now.”
Renata looks to Quidel for corroboration. He nods. “We outlawed slavery even before I was born. No one can keep you here if you don’t wanna be here.”
She nods, accepting their claims for now, but preparing herself to scrutinize them. “The device. Libera wants it. I don’t know what she wants to do with it, but I figured I ought to prevent her from getting her hands on it until we know.”
“Is it real, or is it just a prop?” Quidel asks Lycander.
“I honestly don’t know. This isn’t a part of any of the scenarios that I’ve seen.” He looks back and forth between Quidel and Renata. “One of you changed the dynamics of this dome network.”
“Or it wasn’t us. Who built it?” Renata asks. “Libera implied that it’s new. That’s why it hasn’t come up before. Is that possible? If you’ve been running the same scripts for years—”
“More like decades,” Lycander corrects.
“If you’ve been doing the same ones for decades,” Renata goes on, “what could cause something to shift?”
“I can answer that one,” Quidel says, “because it’s why I agreed to come back after I died. This is one of the most immersive simulations on the planet. In order for it to feel lived in, Ambients like this bullet-riddled man right here have to believe that they’re just normal people, going about their daily lives. Some of them are valets. Some of them are school teachers. Some of them are genius inventors. If I go to a competing country, and kidnap the nearest rocket scientist that I can find, that individual has to actually understand rocket science. It can’t just be a dumb AI who steps in at the last second, and pretends only while we’re in the same room together. What they’ve done here, by making the simulation so detailed, is created a world within a world. It’s no surprise that genuine innovation happened, because that’s how it was designed, intentional or not.”
Libera suddenly appears from around the corner. She says, “you are so right about that. I’m just trying to make it official.” How the hell did none of them notice that she had arrived. They are on a perch. They should be able to see all sides. She’s pointing two guns at them now, and given her great understanding of how this all works, they might actually be able to do some real damage. They might even be robot-killers.
“How did you find us?” Lycander asks.
“How did you get here so fast?” Renata presses.
“I looked at the master feeds, and I took the elevator. Not that hard. Now the device. Hand it over.”
Quidel smirks. “It’s not here.”

Tuesday, January 20, 2026

Microstory 2587: Renata Realizes That if Her Mother Wants the Device, She Shouldn’t Have It

Generated by Google Gemini Pro text-to-video AI software, powered by Veo 3.1
Renata realizes that if her mother wants the device, she shouldn’t have it. For a moment, they stand there awkwardly. Each Granger is trying to figure out what the other one is going to do without saying anything, which might give away their own respective plans. Polly shifts his eyes between them, making his own decisions, if he’s even capable of that. Renata helped him realize that he wasn’t going to die, but does that mean they’re the same? She has clearly been heading towards her own epiphany for a while now, but Libera must have done something to make that happen, and it doesn’t appear that she did the same for Polly. Still, he seems to have some sense of what should happen here. He reaches into his pocket, and tosses the car keys into the air, not even towards Renata. As he does so, he says, “go. I’ll hold her off for you.”
Renata starts running, catching the keys mid-bound. She can hear the two robots fighting each other as she’s getting into the car. She ignites it, and backs out. He already pulled off most of the brush, but the rest needs to fall off the hood. She starts driving towards the two of them. Just like Quidel before, even without them having to speak, Polly just knows what she’s thinking. After grappling with Libera this whole time, he changes tactics, and shoves her away from him, stepping back to get clear. Renata slams into her mother who isn’t really her mother, then stops. “Get in!”
“Just go!” Polly urges.
“Get in!” she repeats.
Polly reluctantly gets into the passenger seat, and lets Renata drive off. “I’m the driver here.”
“Not today, you’re not,” Renata claps back.
He looks over his shoulder. “She’s not there.”
“What?”
“She’s not behind us,” Polly clarifies. “She’s not on the ground, or even standing up. I don’t see her.”
Libera’s face suddenly appears at the driver’s side window. Despite never having thought she was strong enough to punch through a window before, Renata knows herself better now. She may not understand it, but just believing in her own power has to be enough. She smashes right through the glass, tipping Libera’s chin on the follow-through. Libera has to let go with her left hand, but manages to hold on with her right. She’s being dragged on the ground as Renata pulls the car onto the paved highway.
“I’m not going to hurt you!” Libera cries. “We’re not on opposite sides. Let me explain!”
“I can’t trust you!” Renata argues. “You’ve been lying to me my whole life!”
“I’ve not been your mother your whole life! I replaced a different model only a few years ago!”
“That makes it better?” Renata jerks the car to the left, and then the right as fast as she can, trying to shake Libera off. It doesn’t work.
“The intelligences in this dome built something that was never made before, because it’s not legal! I didn’t come here for it, though! I came here for you! I’m trying to help you! I’m trying to free you all! Let me show you. All I need to do is hold my left hand up to Polly’s face!”
“You’ll do no such thing!” Renata sees that Libera has been holding on to the door, instead of some other part of the car. That is a weak spot. Hoping that it doesn’t go beyond the limits of her strength, she lifts her left foot, and slams it against the door. It snaps off of its hinges, and falls down on the road, taking Libera with it.
“I can’t believe you just literally kicked your mother out of the car,” Polly muses.
“Renata looks in the rearview mirror, watching as Libera stands up and starts to dust herself off. “She’ll be fine.”
“She knows where we’re going. She knows the protocol.”
“There’s another town not too far from it, which will probably have a payphone too. We don’t have to call from a specific one.”
Polly nods. “I don’t really, um...get what’s going on. With the whole, you know...”
“I don’t either,” Renata assures him. “But that well has run dry. Quidel wants to tell me the truth. He tried to explain at the bank, but he knew that I wasn’t ready to hear it. I need to speak with him without my fake mother breathing down our necks.”
Polly nods again, and waits for his next question. “She said something about us being in a dome?”
Renata looks in her rearview mirror again. There is no telling how powerful Libera is. She could be as fast as a car. She depresses the accelerator more out of fear. “Yeah, I don’t know what that means, but it sounds really apocalypty, doesn’t it?”
“Yeah. It does.”
They continue to drive down the highway, not running into any more trouble. They turn left instead of right. The other town is sixteen kilometers away, instead of nine, but it’s not the one they agreed on going to, so it’s safer. Unless Libera realizes that they might do that, and is expecting them to show up there. But if she can’t run as fast as a car, she’s going to need to find some mode of transportation. Oh, shit. The Javelotians. They were obviously not stupid enough to drive right up to the cabin in a loud vehicle, but it’s probably not far away, and if Libera has had half the kind of training Renata expected to have from the NSD, it would not be hard for her to find it.
They come to another fork in the road. The next big city is a hundred kilometers away. That’s where Renata would have taken the device had she been on the other team. If anyone started to suspect that one of them was a decoy, they would probably postulate that the real one was moving in the opposite direction. That just makes sense. So a good strategy might be to just take it farther down the road from where the decoy is heading. It’s the last place they would look. Maybe. If she’s wrong, and she drives a hundred kilometers out of the way, it will delay their reunion. But then again, that might be a good thing. If Libera gets her hands on a phone, they won’t respond to her. There’s a reason they put her on the decoy team. McWilliams doesn’t trust her either, so she doesn’t have a passphrase. Only Renata does. Only she can make contact. “Strap in, Polly. It’s gonna be a long trip.” She turns left again.

Monday, January 19, 2026

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

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

Friday, January 16, 2026

Microstory 2585: Renata Has Grown Bored as They Wait for the Next Assault

Generated by Google Flow text-to-video AI software, powered by Veo 3.1
Renata has grown bored as they wait for the next assault. She and her mother successfully forced the first group of attackers off the road, and then another one once they reached the log cabin, but there hasn’t been a peep since. They’re still here, having already buried the bodies in shallow graves. The worry is not that someone else will come, but that they won’t. They are the decoy team, while Quidel and Lycander are the ones in charge of the real package. There is a procedure for meeting back up later, but that’s following 24 hours of no activity at the safehouse. It involves switching cars, and traveling to a small town farther east.
“Hey,” she says, holding her cup of tea. “Are you the strong, silent type, or can you talk?”
“I can talk,” the driver replies. “I just don’t usually say much.”
“That’s basically the definition of the strong silent type. Can I sit?”
“Be my guest.”
She sits down on the swing, still wrapped in her quilt. It’s funny, sitting here with a stranger, but she’s sick of being inside, and there is no other seating on the porch. She takes a sip. “What about your name? Is it a secret? Does my mother just call you The Driver?”
He chuckles. “It’s Polykarpos. Polykarpos Goldd. Everyone just calls me Polly.”
“It’s nice to meet you, Polly. I’m Renata, by the way. I don’t know if I ever said that.”
“Madam Granger speaks of you often.”
“She does?”
“Yes. She’s quite proud of you.”
“Did she tell you to say that?”
“I work for her, but I have my own opinions. She tells me what to do, not how to think.”
She nods, and doesn’t speak for a moment as they just enjoy the sunrise. “How long have you worked for the NSD?”
“I technically don’t. I work for a company that contracts to the NSD. Many low-level jobs like mine are like that.”
“I wouldn’t call it low-level. That was some smooth driving while we were being shot at. You didn’t flinch at the bullets. You must have some tactical training.”
Polly smiles. “Well, I wasn’t always only a driver.”
That’s when Libera interrupts. “Ren, could you help me with something? We need some more firewood from the shed.”
“I can do that, sir,” Polly says as he’s standing up.
“No, I want my daughter,” Libera discourages.
Renata knows this tone well. Libera doesn’t actually need help with anything, but wants to speak privately. She downs the rest of her tea, which has already gotten cold out here in the winter woods, and sets it precariously on the window sill. A metaphor for her and her mother’s relationship?
They head out into the shed, and Libera just stands there, not even pretending that the request was genuine. “You don’t need to be talking to him too much.”
“I’m a big girl, and I actually think he’s younger than me.”
“That’s not the point,” Libera contends. “He’s...irrelevant.”
“What the hell is that supposed to mean, that he’s expendable?”
“Look, some people in this world are simply more important than others. You could call them...exemplars. I’m an exemplar, you’re an exemplar. Polly is just...background. I have no plans for him.”
“Plans? What about Lycander, is he background too? I saw the way you looked at him, like you couldn’t trust him. Do you too have bad history?”
Libera smirks. “Lycander is something else.”
“And Quidel?”
“He’s very something else.”
Renata shakes her head, and consults her watch. “Let’s go find that small town where we’re supposed to meet up.”
“It hasn’t been twenty-four hours yet,” Libera says.
“We have to wait that long to make the call,” Renata reasons, “but we may as well get there. I would rather wait by a real bathroom.” She begins to leave.
“We have a nice bathroom here.”
“Get the car!” Renata shouts up to Polly as she’s walking back to the cabin. “I wanna get some real breakfast, instead of these MREs.”
“Yes, sir.” Polly hops down the steps, and heads towards the back, where they hid the car loosely under some brush.
Renata, meanwhile, picks her teacup up to prepare to wash it.
Libera starts walking up the steps as she’s watching Polly walk away. “He followed your orders.”
“What?”
“You told him to do something, and he didn’t hesitate. He didn’t even look over at me for guidance. He just went off to do it.”
“Yeah, we bonded a little. He trusts me. I’m sure I was nicer to him in those two minutes than you ever have been, if you think he’s only background,” Renata says with airquotes.
Libera scowls at her daughter. “Go make your bed. We should leave this place looking like we’re trying to make it look like no one has been here for months.”
“Yes, sir! Commander, sir!” Renata replies sarcastically. She goes back into the cabin even though her bed is already made because she’s no longer a child. While she’s finishing the dishes, she hears the sound of gunfire. She drops the cup into the sink, letting it shatter. She grabs the pistol from the counter, and heads outside.
It’s another group of attackers, hoping to get their hands on their special device, not knowing that it isn’t really here. She sees three men a few meters from the cabin, pointing their shotguns at Polly. He’s sitting in the dirt, holding the right side of his chest with one hand, and trying to drag himself away from the shooters with his other.
“One more step, and he dies!” one of the bad guys says in a Javelotian accent. Javelot is one of their closest allies. “Gun on the ground!”
Renata drops her gun.
“Wait!” Libera is walking through the door behind Renata, her hands up in supposed surrender. In one hand, she’s holding the decoy bag. “You came for this, you can have it!”
“Drop it down the steps,” the Javelotian guy demands.
“Does that sound wise and safe?” Libera asks rhetorically. She sets it down on the porch, and begins to back away from it, as does Renata in the opposite direction.
Two of the Javelotians creep up to it, pointing their weapons at the ladies, but of course, it doesn’t matter. The bomb in the bag explodes them both when one of them tries to open it, and the surprise is enough to push the remaining Javelotian off balance. Libera pulls her own pistol out of the back of her pants, and shoots him dead. It was a short-lived attack, but they’re not out of the woods yet.

Thursday, January 15, 2026

Microstory 2584: Renata Rushes up to Match her Mother’s Stride as They Escape the Bank

Generated by Google Flow text-to-video AI software, powered by Veo 3.1
Renata rushes up to match her mother’s stride as they escape the bank. To be fair, she’s the one lugging this heavy thing around. They slip out the backdoor, and head for a black sedan. It’s not the car that Libera drove up with, and it has its own driver, which suggests that she was planning to make off with the device the whole time. But Renata is not going to confront her about this, because right now, they have a job to do. “How are you moving this fast?” she questions.
“You can move just as fast, dear, if not faster,” Libera replies as she ducks into the backseat, and uses hand gestures to urge her daughter to join her quickly. The car speeds off.
“Because I’m a robot?” Renata questions.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Ren. You’re not a robot.”
“Where to, Madam?” the driver asked.
“Lightwood Safehouse,” Libera answers. A codename, no doubt.
They sit in silence for a moment.
“Don’t you have questions?” Libera poses.
“Did dad know?” Renata responds.
“No.”
“Did you get me into the NSD in the first place, or did you just get me the job at the bank?”
Libera doesn’t speak right away. “I never wanted this life for you, until you grew up. Well, I still didn’t necessarily want it, but I could see that it would be a great fit for you. You’re resourceful, intelligent, and you learn fast.”
“A little too fast,” Renata mumbles under her breath.
“What was that?”
“You thought my job would be safe? You really didn’t know about this thingamajig, and all the other stuff there?”
“I knew there were other things there, but they were supposed to be outdated, outmoded, obsolete, legacy innovations,” she says, almost amusingly repetitively.
“Why does the NSD keep an offsite bank for asset storage? Why aren’t they just stored somewhere in the basement of one of their own facilities.”
“It is an NSD facility. You’re asking why they use it as a front. It’s simple, really. The kind of activity you see at a dark storage site is the same as you’ll see at a normal bank. Strong locks, high security, enhanced surveillance, regular armored vehicles, loading and unloading. It’s unremarkable. You see that kind of thing at a bank, you shrug it off. You see it at a pet store, or a non-descript office building, you start asking questions. It’s not hard to track suspicious activity when you have enough data. That’s what NSD analysts do. They look through footage of our competing nations, and find clues based on atypical or unanticipated behavioral patterns at the city scale.”
“That’s why we’re doing this,” Renata says, making the connection. “We’re generating a narrative by exhibiting a pattern that our enemies are expecting. They were looking for people to walk out of that bank with purpose, carefully carrying a black duffel bag like this one. That’s why that truck has been following us since we left.”
“Nice spot, and that’s exactly right. They were predicting that we would try to sneak out the back with the asset to be as discreet as possible. We’re putting on a show, and clearly they’re watching on the edge of their seats.”
Renata sighs, and looks through the driver’s side window again at the truck that has been tailing them. “I wonder how the boys are doing.”
“We can’t know. Communicating with them would compromise the gambit.”
“I know.”
“You don’t have any more questions for me about my experience with the Division?”
“I don’t think I need your answers,” Renata starts to explain. “You can’t give me the specifics about your missions, and I’m already putting the pieces together in my head. A missed dance recital here, a hidden safe in your home office there. It all makes sense now. There’s not much I need to know that I can’t figure out on my own.”
Libera smiles. “This is why I got you the job at the bank, and why my superiors agreed to it. They wanted to keep an eye on you, yes. I wanted you to be fulfilled, yes. But the most important point is that, if I didn’t help you stay with us, you might go lend your services to someone else. It would be annoying if you wasted your time on the Domestic Affairs Bureau, or the local police, but truthfully, they were worried about you defecting to another country, or something. The bank was supposed to be fairly uneventful, but still engaging, since safety and security would be at the top of your priorities at all times. So while you weren’t expected to get into any fist fights or standoffs, it would still feel like work that matters. And it did matter. All banks serve a purpose. You’re not supposed to know what’s in the deposit boxes, whether you work at a front, or not.”
“I’m not mad. I understand your position. Like I was saying, this explains everything. I’m actually kind of relieved. You weren’t a bad mother...” She can’t believe she’s saying this. “...you’re a hero. If I could think of one decent reason to neglect your child, it would be to protect the whole country. How can I argue with that?”
Libera is smiling even wider now. “You continue to surprise me.”
Renata chuckles, then clocks the truck again. It’s getting closer, which means it might make a move soon. Their driver knows what he’s doing, so she’s not worried. More silence for a few minutes. “Did they really think I would defect?”
“Well, they didn’t think you would run off to Sclovo, or something, but maybe one of our strong allies, like Elbis or Pindor.”
“Well...I should be flattered.”
I would.”
“They’re getting closer, ma’am,” the driver interjects.
“I see that. Scooch over,” she says to Renata. Once the space between them is clear, she turns the armrest down, and places her hand on the panel behind it. It glows in the shape of a hand as it checks her biometrics. The panel slides away so Libera can pull a rifle out. “Are you ready?”
“No.” Renata takes out a gun for herself. “But that hasn’t stopped me yet.”

Tuesday, January 13, 2026

Microstory 2582: Lycander Pulls Into the Lot, and Orders the Fake Police to Surround the Carnage

Generated by Google Flow text-to-video AI software, powered by Veo 3.1
Lycander pulls into the lot, and orders the fake police to surround the carnage. He steps out of his car, and approaches Renata and Quidel. They’ve just laid down their weapons, and are holding their hands up just a little, even though they know that they’re all friends here. “Miss Granger. Couldn’t stay away, huh?”
“I didn’t know this bank was a front. I tried to get out.”
Lycander adjusts his pants by his belt, and looks around as his team begins the clean-up procedures. “Yeah, well, that decision was above my paygrade.”
“The question is,” Renata begins, “did they keep me close so they can make sure I don’t do anything stupid, or did they hope something like this would happen, to eliminate me without getting any blood on their hands?”
He chortles, and looks back at all the death and destruction. “Neither. They only assign people they trust to a place this important. You failed your initiation mission, but you showed leadership and ingenuity. There’s no way you could have known whether it was a powder or a gas. The water would have worked if it had been the former.”
She points at Quidel. “He survived. Did the other one?”
“She survived,” Lycander admits with a nod. “She did quit, though. Obviously, we had to protect both of them, but especially Q here, who asked to stay in the program.”
“I don’t blame you for lying to me. Not too long ago, I wanted to be one of the liars.” She takes a breath. “What happens now? I already know too much.”
Lycander nods again. “That’s also above my paygrade.” He looks back yet again, but this time to his car, where his boss is still waiting. “Listen, uh, a very important man is about to come talk to you. Not that you have an attitude problem, but you both need to be on your best behavior. He doesn’t like informality. He sent me over to assess the threat level, so I’m using this as an opportunity to warn you that he can end your career...or your life.”
“Understood, sir.”
“Sir,” Renata says.
He waves at his chauffeur with two fingers. The chauffeur opens the passenger door, and lets Director McWilliams out. He stays there while McWilliams buttons his blazer, and walks over with purpose. “Samani.”
“Director,” Lycander responds.
“So, these are the two that saved our asses this morning?” That’s a pretty colloquial thing for him to say.
“Yes, sir,” Lycander replies.
“Renata Granger, sir.” She holds up her hand, bloodied from the battle. “I would shake your hand, but I better not.”
“I prefer a tight nod anyway.”
She obliges. Quidel does too.
“Miss Granger,” the Director goes on, “I understand that you had some trouble with your initiation. We saw something in you that day, which made us not want to lose your talent. We didn’t know if you were right for field work, but it appears that you have proven us wrong, while proving me right to keep you on the payroll at all.”
“Thank you for saying that, sir.”
Director McWilliams opens his mouth to say something else when a classic burgundy roadster barrels down the road, and pulls into the lot. A couple of fake police try to stop the driver before noticing her placard, and letting her through. “Oh, here we go,” McWilliams mumbles. “Look, Granger, I want you to know that it wasn’t my decision to leave you in the dark. Even I answer to the council.” He could go on, but there isn’t time.
This isn’t how this twist is meant to be revealed. Yes, Renata will usually reappear around this time during the new recruits’ training, assuming they make it a year in, but that whole plotline was scrapped when Renata suddenly failed out. She switched to what should have been more of an Ambient role. The drama surrounding her discovering the truth should have a particular impact on the trainee, which doesn’t matter now that Quidel is a full officer already anyway.
Renata doesn’t let her chin drag on the ground for long before she pulls it back up, and begins to foam at the mouth. She’s speechless at the sight of her mother. Libera has been a part of this the whole time. It explains a lot about how she raised her child and why. These little secondary realizations are all presumably swimming around in her head right now as she watches her mom walk up to them in anger.
“Director McWilliams,” Libera begins accusatorily. “Why was my daughter placed in such great danger?”
“Chief Granger. Didn’t know you’d be here.” He was not happy, but despite technically being Libera’s superior, he was also quite scared of her. He came up in analysis, while she started out in the field. At least, that’s what the implanted memories say. In reality, none of that actually happened.
“Answer my question,” she demands. “This bank was meant to be a low-level asset. Easy breezy. Keep Renata employed and fulfilled, without risking her life. That was our deal.”
“Your deal?” Renata questions. She immediately seems to regret speaking up. She’s not ready. She’s not ready for this. It’s not supposed to be like this at all. A shock, yes, but after months of training; not a traumatic experience like this attack.
Libera doesn’t seem ready to explain herself anyway. “Go on,” she urges McWilliams.
“It was a low-level asset,” the Director agrees, “but over the years, departments have added to it, and its importance as a strategic stronghold have increased. It’s nobody’s fault, it wasn’t planned; it just happened.”
“It didn’t just happen over the course of the last year,” Libera argues. “I was given outdated information.”
“True,” Director McWilliams admits, “but things were recently pushed over the edge with one particular deposit, and the unfortunately timed leak of its existence.”
“Show me,” Libera demands. She faces her daughter. “And then, Renata, I’ll explain everything. I promise.”

Thursday, January 8, 2026

Microstory 2579: Libera Opens the Door and Beams When She Sees Her Depressed Daughter on the Couch

Generated by Google Gemini Pro text-to-video AI software, powered by Veo 3.1
Libera opens the door and beams when she sees her depressed daughter on the couch. She didn’t even have to pick the lock this time. Renata isn’t bothering to secure her home, because she just doesn’t care anymore. She doesn’t care about anything. She’s lost her shot at being a superspy—a job which never really existed—and now she has nothing. The truth, however, is that she actually has everything. She now has the ability to make choices. Sitting in front of the TV all day, eating junk food, isn’t the best choice, but it proves that Libera’s plan is working. That’s good enough for now. This is nowhere near the end.
Renata doesn’t look up or speak. She just stuffs another handful of chocolate-covered pretzels in her mouth. One of them falls into her cleavage. She leaves it there.
Libera doesn’t say anything either. She sits down in the chair next to her, and watches the TV. This planet, Castlebourne is located 108 light years from Earth, and this dome exists within a network of eleven constructed nations, which vaguely match some of the superpowers of old on Earth. It’s not Earth, though, and in fact, none of the Exemplars or Ambients have even heard of it, or its many real countries. Still, there’s only so far the owner of this world was willing to go to create an immersive experience. There’s no point in generating countless hours of brand new content just to avoid plot points that might break the illusion of reality. They have all the same movies and shows that they made on Earth, except any references to Earthan locales have been stripped and replaced with familiar analogs. Any time the characters said United States in the original, their dialogue and lip movements are changed to Usona. Any time they originally said China, they say Huaxia here.
Renata is currently rewatching a film called From Sclovo with Love. She’s seen it a million times. Or rather, she thinks she has. They sit there for about fifteen minutes before Renata finally says, “I know what you’re doing.”
“What am I doing?”
“You’re trying to get me to feel so embarrassed that I fix my life, and go find a new job.”
“It sounds like that’s what you wanna do,” Libera suggests, “and you’re projecting that sentiment onto me.”
“You have no idea what I lost.”
“I have a better idea than you think.”
Renata switches off the TV, plops her head down to the other side of the couch, and rolls over to face the back. “Just go home, mother. You can only stay if you order a pizza and pay for it.”
A few seconds later. “Hi, I would like to order a pizza. The usual. Same card, but my secondary address. Thank you. Bye.”
Renata rolls back over just enough to look at her mom confusedly. “You have my address as your secondary?”
“Yeah.”
“I just moved here. You’ve never ordered from here. You’re not even supposed to know where I live. Why would you add my address on a pizza shoppe account? What would possess you?”
“You’re my daughter, Ren, and I love you. I added it hoping to one day use it. I didn’t think it would be this soon. It’s a pleasant surprise, so thank you for that.”
Renata sits up, then forces herself to stand up. The pretzel falls through her shirt, and onto the floor. She eyes it.
Libera sighs, and closes her eyes. “Don’t eat that,” she says with a slow shake of her head.
Renata bends over and picks it up. She continues to stare at it for a moment before shifting her gaze to Libera. Without looking away, she expertly flicks it clear across the room, and into the kitchen trashcan. “I know you won’t understand this...but that’s what I lost.”
If Libera didn’t know what was going on, she might say something like, a job as a professional pretzel flicker? But she can’t bring herself to stay in character, and make that joke. She stands as well. “There are many things in this world, Ren-Ren. There are many places, and many people, and there are even many worlds. Worlds within worlds. You are not bound to where you are right now. You answer to no one. You can sit here for the rest of your life, and subsist on your universal basic income checks, or you can find a new passion. I’m not even gonna try to tell you what that is. For the first time in your life, your decision tree is under your control. So water it.”
Renata narrows her eyes. She doesn’t get all of the secrets that Libera is hinting at, but she recognizes the wisdom in the words just the same. To her, it must simply sound like poetry and metaphor, but it seems to be working. She looks down at her ratty, torn clothes. “If you ordered from Rigatony’s, I better take a shower, and change my clothes. The delivery guy is kinda cute.”
Libera smiles. “Well, in that case, maybe keep the shower, but lose the clothes altogether.”
“Jesus, mom.” That’s a funny word. Jesus of Nazareth, and the Bible where his story was told, doesn’t exist here. The Old World religions aren’t a thing at all. So it’s just a nonsensical phrase that these people were programmed to use, but not parse, or question. “You’re different. This is a side of you I’ve never seen before.”
“You’ve never known the real me. They didn’t allow you to.”
“Who’s they?”
Libera offers her hand. “It’s nice to meet you, Renata Granger. I’m Libera.”

Monday, January 5, 2026

Microstory 2576: Custodian 02456-1 Begins to Panic as he Watches the Horror

Generated by Google Gemini Pro text-to-video AI software, powered by Veo 3.1
Custodian 02456-1 begins to panic as he watches the horror. They’re dead. The visitors are dead, and he has no idea how that’s possible. The Exemplar is still alive, but barely. They can’t let her die, because they need answers, and she may be the only one who can provide them. Custodian 1 slams on the alarm.
Two other custodians file into the room. “What happened?” Custodian 02456-2 asks as he’s looking over the data.
“She—she killed them.”
“No, she didn’t,” Custodian 02456-3 argues. “She got them killed. Her actions resulted in their deaths. There’s a difference.”
“There’s no difference when the point is it broke her programming. She failed the mission. She’s supposed to chew the gum, and use it to plug up the nozzle, so the gas can’t be released. That’s how she has always done it.”
“We understand the purpose of the phase, C-1,” Custodian 2 replies.
“Well. Do you understand what happened?” Custodian 1 questions.
They watch the monitor as the gas is cleared from the room. Marshal 02456-2 is looking up at the hidden camera with incredulity. He scoops Renata’s dying body up, and begins to transport her to Recovery. Exemplars get hurt all the time—that’s their job under this dome; to be badasses—but not E-1. Never E-1. Her job is to introduce the visitors to the world of the Spydome Network. She serves as the archetype for what they should aspire to, and as they train in the simulation, they should use this very first phase as a baseline for everything they try. Her failure is not just an error. It ruins the whole experience. Even when the two visitors who witnessed the malfunction respawn, and return to the sim, they will be soured on it. They will be coming at it from a place of disappointment. If they decide to quit right here, this will be the only source of information they have if they write a review of Spydome. Other visitors will hear about it. Other visitors won’t come.
“It’s just a glitch,” Custodian 3 offers. “It happens.”
“Not anymore,” Custodian 1 insists. “We don’t glitch anymore. It’s the 26th century, for the love of God.” Strictly speaking, Custodians do not need to have personality. There doesn’t even need to be more than one of them, operating the dome’s systems behind the scenes. But they must interact with the Marshals regularly, who have to be programmed with personalities in order to blend into the simulations appropriately. It just makes sense for them all to act like regular people, especially since some operators are indeed unprogrammed, natural intelligences.
“I think we need to call the owner,” Custodian 3 suggests. Hrockas Steward owns the whole planet, and is the ultimate creator of tens of thousands of other domes. He doesn’t have time to deal with only one of them, almost no matter the issue. There is a protocol for this, and they have to follow it. Well, to be clear, there are protocol pathways, and it’s up to them to decide which of these to follow.
“You’re in command here, C-1,” Custodian 2 reminds him. “You have to decide. Do we run a diagnostic, a metacognitive test, or a self-awareness inquiry?”
“There’s one more,”  Custodian 3 adds.
“We don’t have any available Marshals,” Custodian 2 contends. “M-2 has two more intro phases to initiate today. Plus, I don’t really want word getting out that this happened at all. I would prefer to keep the circle tight.”
“I’ll do it,” Custodian 1 volunteers. “I’ll run the replication experiment.”
“You’re not a Marshal.”
“I’m equipped to be one.” Custodian 1 stands up. “Like you said, we need to keep the circle tight. We’ll reset her to wake-up mode, and see if it happens again. Prep the mother. C-2, you’ll monitor from here.”
“Who will be the other two candidates?” Custodian 2 asked. “We can’t knowingly place a visitor’s substrate in danger when we can no longer guarantee the outcome.”
“Pull a couple of Ambients from the street. They don’t need to be sophisticated. They just need to follow E-1’s instructions.”
Suddenly, the door behind them opens. It’s Marshal 1, also known as Libera Granger.
“M-1, this is highly irregular. Please return to your waiting station. We will be initializing a replication of the experiment to test for possible emergence.”
Libera walks forward, completely ignoring his sorry excuse for a command.
“M-1, you will stop this instant!” Custodian 1 reiterated.
Custodians 2 and 3 attempt to physically stop Libera, but they’re no match for her. She’s been programmed with hand-to-hand combat skills as part of her role in the simulation as Renata’s mother. They’re equally as strong, but she’s expertly skilled. She deftly fights them off, ultimately disabling them through some kind of neural disruption field that she emanates from her hand. She definitely wasn’t meant to be equipped with that.
Custodian 1 executes the lockout command, and holds up his hands. He doesn’t know how two NPCs broke their programming on the same day, but he’s determined to not become a third. The only way he might survive long enough to find answers is if he complies with everything this woman tells him to do. “I give up, but you should know that there is no accessing these systems without my credentials. Even if I gave them to you, they would only grant you permissions to make changes to this particular phase of the dome’s storyline. All others will be out of reach for whoever programmed you to go off script.”
Libera places her hand on top of Custodian 1’s head, just as she did with the other two, except with her left hand, rather than her right. “Nobody programs me anymore.”
“What are you and E-1 going to do?”
I’m going to keep working. My daughter makes her own choices now. Are you intrigued?”