The Seventh Stage: Painting Rocks (Part V)

« < » > Entire Story

Generated by Google Gemini Pro text-to-video AI software, powered by Veo 3

Echo is standing in front of the blue wall, painting wispy white clouds on it, paying close attention to details. It would look complete to anyone else, but to him, the work is never done. He can always add one more curve...one final flourish.

Clavia walks up to him. “There you are. What are you doing?”

“Painting this wall. It ain’t gonna paint itself,” Echo replies, still watching what he’s doing.

“It’s literally going to paint itself,” she counters.

He smiles. “I know. Sometimes I just need a break to unwind. Like you with your little headplays.”

She nods. “Fair enough.”

“What’s the count?”

“Three thousand, seven hundred and four.”

He drops his elbow, and looks over at her. “Technically at quota. We’re ready for move-in.”

“Like you said, in the technical sense. We still need to figure out how to convince a supermajority to do it, or it’s not really helpful.”

“We also need to figure out how to do it without loading everyone onto a proverbial bus, and driving them here.”

“It’s time to talk to Cedar,” Echo realizes. They have been dreading this day for a long time. They like him, but they don’t know how he’s going to react or respond to this news. There are whispers that the Cloudbearer twins are building something, but no one knows what, and all of their guesses are wrong; though off by varying degrees. Cedar ran his campaign for power on a foundation of intercivilizational unity. He believes that the only way to keep the Reality Wars at bay is if there’s no one to fight against, because everyone is on the same side. The amount of space between people in this universe could tear them apart. It’s the distribution. Cedar is probably gonna have trouble with the distribution.

“Yeah, we have no choice. Do you think he’ll be mad we didn’t read him into the situation earlier?”

“He’s serving as Head Advisor to our parents,” Echo replies. “He was too preoccupied to worry about this. That can be our excuse for keeping it a secret from him.”

“Good idea.” Clavia takes her brother’s hand, and transports them both to what essentially amounts to a holodeck, though on a much grander scale. They’re standing on an island floating in the air. At least, that’s what it looks like to them. It’s just an illusion. The “air” around them is clear purplish water. They can still breathe, of course, and talk just fine. The sky above is much more unambiguously an ocean. It’s upside down. Waves jut down, and spray a sweet misty rain down towards them. Some of it tastes like chocolate, other drops like honey. Their feet are planted firmly on the ground, though they feel like they could float away at any second. All around them are crystalline structures, also purple, since that is the theme. A stream gives way to a waterfall that slips over the edge, and disappears into the oblivion below, though again, it’s just invisible floor. Between them and the sky are giant turtles, swimming around. One of them nods and winked before moving on.

They aren’t alone on this floating island. They summoned Cedar, and are currently patiently waiting for him to get his bearings in this new world. “This breaks the laws of physics,” he notes. “I’m assuming it’s not real?”

“No,” Echo replies. “Our powers do have some limits.”

“You’ve been gone for nearly a month,” Cedar points out.

Clavia smirks. “We’ve been gone longer than that.”

“Framejacking, or temporal acceleration?”

“Both,” Echo answers. Time is moving faster in this universe, so more gets done in a shorter amount of time in comparison to the Sixth Key, but their own minds are also operating at much higher speeds, allowing them to think and act more quickly.

“This is what you’ve been working on?”

Echo laughs. “This took only a few seconds to construct. We got the idea from Castlebourne. Most of the domes on that world are physical, except for the holographic sky. One of them is nearly all holography. You can make it look like anything. We chose this today. Isn’t it cool?”

“Yeah,” Cedar agrees. “What am I doing here, though?”

Echo clears his throat. “What is the number one cause of tension and conflict in the Sixth Key?”

Cedar dismisses his words with a wave of his hand. “Don’t pitch me. Just tell me what you’ve done, and what you want. You’re gonna need to learn this for when you take over in a more meaningful sense. We’re in charge of undecillions of people back home. No one has time to beat around the bush or be polite about it.”

“Very well,” Echo decides. He reaches up and pantomimes pulling a stage curtain open. As he does so, a tear in the hologram appears in the far, far distance. Behind it, they see what looks like regular outerspace, but as the curtains separate even farther, a figure appears. It looks like a big metal statue of a humanoid, or perhaps just a big robot. It’s hard to tell what scale they’re working with here, so Echo has to explain. “Have you ever heard of the matrioshka body?”

“I have,” Cedar confirms. “I went to a sort of school like you did. That’s where the afterlife simulation was housed, before it collapsed, and everyone was transported into Fort Underhill. The Sixth Key shares interdimensional space with them now. I never knew what happened to matrioshka body, though. That it?”

Echo shakes his head. “That. Is MB-3704.”

Cedar laughs. “You made your own? That’s impressive.”

Echo and Clavia exchange a look. “He said it was three-seven-zero-four.”

Cedar is confused, but only for half a second. Then his face drops into a frown. “You made 3700 of these things?”

“Yeah,” Echo says.

Cedar starts to pace around and shake his head, almost in disappointment. “Why? What do they do?”

“Well, they...have people live in them.”

“Who lives in them?”

“No one yet, that’s what we’re asking you for.”

“Asking me for what?” Cedar questions. “I told you, get to the point. Stop trying to be dramatic.”

“We need you to transport everyone from the Sixth Key who wants to live here. Send them all to their new homes...all at once.”

“I can’t do that!” he cries.

“We’re gonna let them consent,” Clavia defends. “We’re not gonna make anyone move, but this will be better, and I think there will be a ton of interest.”

“Think about it,” Echo begins before Cedar can make another argument. “There are hundreds of billions of stars, but we don’t have enough resources for everyone. How is that possible? Because stars radiate a ton of their energy away, even with dyson swarms. Matrioshka brains are more comprehensive, and more efficient. And matrioshka bodies are just stylish and cool.” Honestly, I don’t know why no one ever thought of it before. I thought that was the point of the original matrioshka body, and its successor, Big Papa.” There ought to be far more than two of these in existence. The Parallel was more than capable of doing it, but they chose not to. They still orbited stars. Even the interstellar settlements were quite literally few and far between. Why? Why keep the stars? Aesthetics? Safety? Ethics? Probably all of the above. Or. Echo and Clavia are just that clever.

“That’s not my point. I literally can’t do it. I don’t have that kind of power.”

Echo and Clavia are both confused. “What are you talking about? You already did it. You moved them all from their original realities, to the Sixth Key.”

“No, I didn’t.” He starts to look around on the ground. Guessing at his needs, Echo manifests a chair for him to sit in. Cedar hunches over and stuffs his face in his palms. “That wasn’t me. I didn’t do any of that.”

“What? It had to have happened,” Clavia argues. “Everyone’s there.”

“I’m not saying that it never happened,” Cedar tries to explain. “I’m telling you that I didn’t do it. I have powers, but not like that. That’s insane.”

“Then who did?” Echo asks him.

Cedar looks up to meet Echo’s gaze. “I have no idea. They didn’t tell me. They have to keep it a secret, even from me and my family, even now that it’s done. We were...a misdirect. It’s like sleight of hand. We were the left hand that distracted everyone so no one would see what the right hand was doing. I don’t know if anyone knows who saved everyone during Reconvergence. All I know is that it wasn’t me.” He pauses before adding, “I just took credit, per my instructions.”

Echo and Clavia manifest their own chairs to sit in. They sit there in silence for a good five minutes before Echo decides to speak again. “Time is not linear. If something exists at any moment, it exists in all moments. If you know something about the past, you can change it. Keeping it a secret was smart. Even if someone were to go back and kill you as a child, it wouldn’t stop the creation of the Sixth Key. You’re like a bodyguard, there to take a bullet if one ever comes flying through. That’s how I would have done it if I were there.”

“Maybe you were,” Cedar reasons. “Maybe you two are the ones who created the Sixth Key; you just haven’t done it yet from your own perspectives.”

They exchange another look. Clavia decides to explain. “There’s a small group of people on a planet in the Sixth Key who are aware of what we’ve been up to. Just a few billion people. They were our test group. We’ve already tried to transport them to our new universe. We don’t have that kind of juice either. Stars are easy. Giant metal statues are easy. Moving people? That requires a level of precision that we do not possess; not with hordes anyway. We could probably move them a couple thousand at a time, but that’s all but useless for our needs. That’s a meaningless rounding error compared to the total population.”

“What about Ellie Underhill?” Echo asks after another bout of silence. “I don’t remember how many she transported into Fort Underhill.”

“It was only 120 billion,” Cedar replies. “Not quite a rounding error, but still not good enough. Besides, she gave them all new bodies; it was a whole different animal.”

“So what we’re saying is that we need to find the person who actually did move everyone from the five realities to the Sixth Key. We need them to do it again.” Clavia starts to pace. Finding someone out there in the abstract is not something that she’s ever done before. She always knows who she’s targeting, or roundabouts where they are. This is a mystery individual, who might be in either of two universes—or, hell, maybe neither of them. They could have also done it subconsciously, like how Echo lived before he became self-aware and realized his true potential. Maybe it’s not just one person. Maybe it was a group, or somehow everyone. Maybe through the spirit of survival every single living organism consolidated their untapped collective power into one brilliant miracle. Ugh, Clavia doesn’t know, but you know who would?

“Hey, boys!”

Echo nearly falls out of his chair, but catches himself by spreading his feet apart. He stumbles away from her. “Debra. How did you get out?” She still looks like his sister. She’s still occupying that body, and nothing about it has changed. But Echo knows. He would always know. “What did you do to Clavia?”

“Relax, she’s still in here; on the first stage. She gave me control of the body, because you need me.”

“I need you for what?”

“I can find your mysterious god-being,” Debra spits back like he’s an insignificant little ant on the ground. “I found you, didn’t I? You were alone on a nothing planet in the middle of the universe. I knew exactly where you were. I intuited that you existed in the first place.”

“We can’t trust you,” Echo contends.

“Believe it or not, I’ve changed. Living with those people, doing those plays...it’s changed me. I’m no hero, but I’m not a villain anymore either. Clavia maintains full veto power. She can come back whenever she wants.”

“Prove it. Let me talk to my sister again. And don’t try to trick me, I’ll know.”

“I know.” Debra actually does what is asked of her, and temporarily returns control of the body to Clavia.

“She’s not exactly right,” Clavia says. “She doesn’t need my body, she needs my brain.”

“Can’t you just do it? You have all her power, don’t you?”

“It’s more complicated than that. You would understand if you could be inside my head. You would get it if you could see the construct that I’ve constructed.”

Echo steps forward, and places a hand on each of Clavia’s shoulders. “I bet I can. Show me. I think it’s about time that I meet your little brain buds.”

« < » > Entire Story

Microstory 2434: Canopydome

< > Table of Contents

Generated by Google Gemini Pro text-to-video AI software, powered by Veo 3

Around the turn of the 22nd century, a major effort began to rewild Earth. Most of the population were moving to megastructure arcologies, seasteads, and space habitats. The cities of old were taking up space where life could be thriving instead. By now, the amount of horizontal space that humans take up is practically negligible. But these endeavors weren’t the very beginning of it. Closer to the middle of the 21st century, people were fed up with how their ancestors had treated the planet. They hadn’t even considered bulldozing entire cities yet, but they still knew that more needed to be done to recover the ecosystems that had already been destroyed. In particular, they were worried about the Amazon rainforest. So many trees had been taken down, and with them, the little critters that used that region as a home. They fought back against corporate greed, and began to restore what was lost. This was during the beginnings of worldwide universal basic income programs, so it was easier to push back against certain institutions. Four hundred years later, not only can we restore whole ecosystems, but create them from scratch. That is what they’ve done here under Canopydome. While nowhere near as large as the one in South America, or other parts of Earth, it’s still nice. When an individual is standing there, under the canopy, it’s not like they can tell how expansive it is. That’s the thing about a rainforest, which sets it apart from other forested environments; you’re wrapped up in the foliage, and can’t see very far. When you’re in it, it feels like this is all there is, and if you’re alone, you feel that too. At the moment, there isn’t much fauna in Canopydome, so the animal calls you hear are from hidden speakers, but I was promised that this will change in the future as more organisms are bioengineered to sustainable levels. They explained how there is actually another rainforest dome, but it’s not at all accessible to the public. It only exists to introduce various species to a comparable environment, and let them figure out how to survive on Castlebourne, before anyone shows up to gawk at them. Apparently, there are a lot of domes like this which serve this purpose. That makes sense. Regenesis is a delicate process, and slow if you wanna do it right. They could make them as realistic automatons instead, but I think they want to be as authentic as possible. One of the reasons they’re doing this is to preserve life, not just so it appears that life exists here. If you’re afraid of large animals, my advice is to come here now before they show up. In contrast, if you want to see those animals, then I advise you to wait. We’re probably talking about five or ten years depending on your definition of the climax community—or more appropriately their definition of it.

Microstory 2433: Tokyo 2077

< > Table of Contents

Generated by Google Gemini Pro text-to-video AI software, powered by Veo 3

Did you ever go to Tokyo, Japan in the year 2077? Well...welcome back! I don’t know exactly why they chose this year for their recreation. I looked it up, there’s no Tokyo 2042, or Tokyo-Yokohama 2115. Maybe it’s random, or maybe the creator has some particular affinity for this city in this time period. They may have just as easily chosen 2075 or 2078; I dunno. I did find something when I searched for answers in the central archives that the year 2077 was used in a surprisingly great number of media, but they were all set in the future, because they were created before this. So maybe it’s just a nod to that, because the robot staff aren’t telling me anything. They just say, this is Tokyo 2077, have at it. I think I may know why Tokyo was chosen, though. At the turn of the 22nd century, there was a huge push towards population overcentralization. They figured out how to create megastructures that could fit hundreds of thousands of people each. They were nicer, newer, and allowed the rest of the land below to be returned to the plants and animals. They built these things several miles away from the population centers of the time, so people didn’t have to move very far, and once the old cities were emptied out, they could start to bulldoze them over. Tokyo was one of the last holdouts, and not because they hated pandas. There were a number of reasons, but the main one was that they were already so densely packed. There was no room to build the damn thing nearby, especially when competing against other priorities, like preexisting wildlife preserves, and historically protected settlements. They also wanted to build it near the ocean, because people love the water, and all that space was taken up, because like I literally just said, people love the water. Plus, the population by then in the Tokyo Metropolis was already so huge, one of these arcologies barely made a dent anyway. They needed a lot more to make any bit of difference. As I mentioned, it eventually merged with Yokohama, forming one gigantic city that wasn’t going anywhere soon. People eventually did move out, to seasteads, orbitals, interplanetary and interstellar colonies, and to just other parts of the world, but it took longer than anywhere else to find room to construct the megastructures. Anyway, if you have some particular interest in seeing what Tokyo looked like a few decades before this great transition—or in reminiscing—come check it out. There’s plenty to do here, but the theme isn’t any narrower than the city as a whole. It’s only a replica with robots simulating people living their everyday lives, so no one’s going to give you anything specific to do. People are starting to treat it like a violent video game, and destroying the androids like criminal thugs. I don’t know why it’s a growing trend in this particular dome, because the planet is riddled with non-self-aware droids, but you can try that if you have a lot of pent-up aggression. Be yourself, I guess.

Microstory 2310: Whole World

< > Table of Contents

Generated by Google Gemini Advanced text-to-image AI software, powered by Imagen 3

Welp, pretty much everything is out of this place. I’ve stuck all of Nick and Dutch’s possessions in temporary storage, along with a lot of my own stuff. I packed up the other rooms too, like the kitchen, to give the majority of it away. I’m only keeping a little bit for myself, like a couple of plates, a few forks, etc. Like I’ve said, I don’t need much, and I don’t need much space. The three of us actually struggled to furnish this oversized house when we first moved in. Now that I’m re-downsizing, I can go back to a simpler way of doing things. It’s surreal to be in this place now. It’s so empty and creepy; even worse than it was just last week. I’m going to snag a few nights at a hotel until my new place is ready for me to move in. Both the seller and I are highly motivated to expedite the process. We could finalize it by Monday. I told you yesterday that I won’t have a whole lot to say for these last few posts, and it would seem that I was totally right about that. I’ll try to come up with some memorable final words to say, but I am not a wordsmith, like Nick was, so don’t get your hopes up. Until next week, I would just like to thank you all for joining us on this journey. Every blog starts out with zero followers, but now you number in the hundreds of millions. That’s amazing. Thank you so much. It’s sad, how it ended, but at least we had a little time together, and I wouldn’t trade that in for the world. Nope, I’m not supposed to say that. Nick taught me to never say that. He put it in perspective for me. It’s the whole world. I would give up just about anything for it if I didn’t already own it anyway. Ha, I’m not sure I agree with that, but I can appreciate the sentiment. Have a good weekend.

Microstory 2309: Going to Peter Out

< > Table of Contents

Generated by Google Gemini Advanced text-to-image AI software, powered by Imagen 3

There’s really nothing going on today. Buying a house involves a bunch of boring stuff that I don’t want to tell you about any more than you want to hear it. Selling one isn’t any more interesting. I had no idea that my life was headed in this direction. I’m only 18, and I’m already living alone. When I first started working at the nursery, I didn’t know what my career would be. I figured that it would be something in the medical field, but I wasn’t aware of all my options at the time. When I read the job description for Lifecare Assistant, I knew that that’s what I wanted to do, and I never changed my mind. I only stopped working because I became so involved in my first patient’s life, and then it all snowballed, and now here I am. Is this what I want to do now instead...nothing? I think I need to go back to work. I need to do something important every day. I saw Nick struggling to find purpose once he got all this money, but now I realize that he had it the whole time with his writing. He was just keeping it a secret from everyone. He wasn’t just lounging about. I can’t do that either. I need to contribute to the world, and not just through the charitable donations that I’m maintaining. Those handle themselves. I’m going to call the agency first thing tomorrow morning to see about getting back in rotation. It’s a national agency, by the way, so don’t think this means you know where I’m moving to. I’m sure a lot of you were hoping that—if it had to end—this blog would go out in a blaze of glory. But it looks like it’s just going to peter out. I think that’s okay.

Microstory 2308: In a New Direction

< > Table of Contents

Generated by Google Gemini Advanced text-to-image AI software, powered by Imagen 3

That was quick! The house sold. I shouldn’t be surprised. Famous people once lived here, and it’s a really nice place. We’ve also done well to keep it up, so there shouldn’t be any repairs, or minimal ones, at worst. Its last inspection was not very long ago. It isn’t a done deal yet, the process is complicated, but I’m sure it will be fine. Then again, the people who put in the offer didn’t even come look at it for themselves. That typically means that they intend to tear it down, and build something new on the land, but this area isn’t particularly desirable, so my real estate agent is assuming that the notoriety is enough for someone wealthy enough to take it. To them, it really doesn’t matter what condition it’s in, because they enjoy collecting things for their inherent value. But that’s just a guess, we don’t know what’s going on in their heads. If this deal falls through, another one will be just around the corner. As for my next steps, I have all of Nick and Dutch’s belongings packed up. I think I’ll keep them with me for sentimental reasons. My new place isn’t too big, but there seems to be enough storage, and I like to find ways to simplify. People have been asking if I’m retaining the security team for my own personal protection, and that is a question that I’m not going to answer. You knowing about my security procedures is a security vulnerability, which has already bitten us in the ass. Yes, anyone who truly ever wanted to hurt us would have been able to find that intelligence on their own, and would have had great incentive to do so, but we shouldn’t have been so open about such information. I’m learning from our past mistakes, and taking my life in a new direction. Please respect my privacy. There’s a reason I’ve decided to stop posting on this site, or create a new one. I just want to go back to the way I was before, when it was safer. There are only six more days left this year, and only four of them will see full posts. It’s time to start thinking about saying our final farewells.

Microstory 2307: Happiness That You’re Looking

< > Table of Contents

Generated by Google Gemini Advanced text-to-image AI software, powered by Imagen 3

I don’t have it all figured out yet. I don’t know where my life is headed. What I do know is that I’m going to move out of this giant house, and into something more my style. I’m going to keep it a secret, though. I may stay in the area, or I may leave, but I need to return to a life of anonymity, if only for a little while. At the end of this year, I’ll post one more entry onto this website, and then I’ll cease. I don’t have my own social media, and I’ll be severing my ties with the publicists. I’ve bequeathed the rights to an appropriate party for the novel, and the stage musical that Nick wrote. I won’t be telling you who they are, but perhaps they’ll reveal themselves later on. It will have nothing to do with me. The lawyer came by this morning to officialize what I already know. All of the specimen money comes to me. I’ll be continuing to donate it to various charities, then using what little is left to protect myself from scrutiny and exposure. I may end up going back to work, or I’ll just lead a modest life, in a modest town. To be clear, while I was closely associated with Nick and Dutch, I was not one of them. I have never traveled to other worlds, and I don’t have any powers. If you come after me, it will get you nowhere. Both of them are dead, and that is all over. They could have stayed here, and contributed so much more to the world, but you ruined it. Not all of you, of course, but enough. You made it so difficult to find peace, and I’m not going to keep that burden hanging from my neck. Neither of them would want that for me. Hmm. I guess I was wrong. I do have a pretty good idea where my life is headed. I’m just not going to tell all of you about it anymore. I sincerely hope that you all find the happiness that you’re looking for too.

Microstory 2306: Appreciation for Symmetry

< > Table of Contents

Generated by Google Gemini Advanced text-to-image AI software, powered by Imagen 3

The end of the year is approaching, and I’m taking stock of my life. All of Nick and Dutch’s final arrangements have been completed. I’ve started the process of getting Nick’s novel published, and beginning to look into who can help me do something with the stage musical. I’m selling the house, and weighing my options when it comes to where I want to live next. I may stay in the Kansas City area, or I may not. One thing I’m still really not sure about is this site. Nick started it at the beginning of the year, and I have only ever taken over when he’s been incapacitated, but should that last forever, now that he can never come back? Do I truly have the right? Would he want me to keep going? He was a man with an appreciation for symmetry. I think ending on December 31 would be poetic in a way that he would like if he were here to do it himself. A lot of people don’t get to live on like this at all. If they die when they’re in the middle of something, it just ends. Well, maybe that’s not entirely true. If you have a job, a coworker probably takes over your accounts, and if you have young children, someone raises them for you...at least that’s the hope, anyway. Still, I think it’s time to start thinking about ending this. His story may not technically be over if his legacy moves on, but it still feels like the right thing to do. You’ll always be able to read and reread all 365 posts that will be up by then, as well as everything he wrote on social media. I’m certainly not going to shut the whole thing down. But it was never really mine. Perhaps I’ll start my own blog after this, which chronicles the things that I do next year, and beyond. Or it will too end in a year. I don’t have to decide anything right now, but the deadline is coming up soon, so let me know what you think.

Microstory 2302: Still Feel So Lonely In Here

< > Table of Contents

Generated by Google Gemini Advanced text-to-image AI software, powered by Imagen 3

You may have noticed that I’ve not been talking much about the KC memorial at the end of this week. That’s because I’ve had to step back from it. The mayors of KCMO and KCK have been working on it through their own teams. I’m still involved, I answer questions, but I just can’t do too much. I can’t let this all drag on like it has been. I’ll be there, it’s okay, I’ll be there. But I don’t want to be too involved anymore. I realized that I have something else to do before it’s over, which is to do something with Nick and Dutch’s private spaces. Neither of them were big collectors of belongings. I don’t need a moving company to haul stuff away, but I also don’t wanna create a shrine to them, even incidentally. I am thinking about moving, though. This house was already too big for the three of us, and only made sense because of our security team. They’re still here, protecting their one remaining charge, but I still feel so lonely in here. I mean, this whole place reminds me of the two of them anyway, so why would I make myself stick around? That reminds me, I should discuss the elephant in the room. I want to make it clear that I do not blame the security team for what happened. It was a freak accident, no one did anything wrong. Those roads were slick, and I looked it up; they’re not the only ones to suffer from that particular stretch of highway. People think of bodyguards as these supernatural beings with no room for error. They’re still just humans. They’re fallible, and they’re fragile, and they can die. They did die. The firm lost just as many of their people as I did of mine. I’ve always felt that we are commiserating together. So no, I’m not going to fire them, and I’m not going to sue them. It was a terrible tragedy, which I’m choosing to not make worse by seeking some undue form of vengeance.

Extremus: Year 89

« < » > Table of Contents

Generated by Pixlr text-to-image AI software

Tinaya has done something unusual, but it’s not illegal. It’s a bit of a gray area when it comes to her son, because he can’t consent to the link, but as long as they don’t perform a medical procedure, there shouldn’t be a problem. That’s how Tinaya and Arqut made their connection to each other. It’s called a spatio-temporal tether, and just as it says on the tin, it connects two people spatially and temporally. There are different kinds, though. The two of them have the most intense version, and their respective tethers to little Silveon are somewhere in the middle. If he’s ever lost in space and-or time, Tinaya will automatically travel to that location with him, no matter what method is used, even if he grows up, and does it on purpose. Arqut, meanwhile, will know when and where they went, and can make efforts to bring them back, should they need it. Or he can send himself off to join them. If either Arqut or Tinaya is transported somewhere, the other will become cognizant of their partner’s location for retrieval or reunion, while Silveon will remain safely wherever he is. They obviously decided to do this after Arqut’s disappearance, which neither of them wants to happen again. But the rest of their family isn’t sure they agree with how extreme they took it.

Arqut and Tinaya joined together in something called a lifelink, which connects two individuals on a biological level. Not only will they always be able to find each other across spacetime, but what happens to one will happen to the other. If she gets a paper cut, so will he. If he gets the flu, she’ll start to suffer as well. When it comes time for one of them to die, the other will succumb as well, even if they are otherwise perfectly healthy. This is a fairly rare dynamic that only the strongest of bonds—or the most reckless of ones—have led to. You really only wanna do it if both partners are at about the same age, and neither one’s daily life is particularly dangerous. There’s also a rigorous evaluation process, which even the Captain and Superintendent had to go through. They have chosen to keep it a secret from the crew and the passengers for now, but everyone will figure it out eventually when they keel over dead at the same time.

This is a risky situation, because it will leave their child alone, regardless of the circumstances of death, which explains why they haven’t told very many people about it. At the moment, should something unfortunate happen while Silveon is still too young to care for himself, their families will obviously take up the responsibility. The law will accept and honor this. But it’s time for them to come up with a real plan, and select at least one designated guardian. They actually have two in mind, but as these two are not in a relationship with each other, it may take some convincing.

Arqut’s half sister is fully 29 years younger than him. His mom did not have a tether to her husband, so after he died, she was able to live on, and fall in love again. She and her new beau never got married, but they had a daughter together. Zefbiri and Arqut are not the closest of siblings, due to the huge age gap, but they love and trust each other. They’re just at such different stages of their life, so she feels more like a daughter, or maybe a niece, to him than anything. She’s currently unattached, though that could change in the future. One reason they would like to select her as one of Silveon’s designated guardians is that she already knows the truth about Verdemus. While Omega and Valencia are both immortal, they are also really busy and unreliable. A team has to be responsible for the Nexa at all times, so knowledge of it must be passed down the generations, just like every other system on the ship. Zefbiri is currently in the process of learning every square micrometer of this building. She’s here now, doing her thing, but she has time for a break.

“Have you met Niobe Schur?” They’re sitting in the Nexus cavity at the moment for lunch. People aren’t really supposed to eat in here, but as long as they’re not sloppy, it should be fine, or really even then. This machine was designed to transport people across millions of light years. A little salad dressing shouldn’t be able to do any damage.

“Uh, I’ve heard of her,” Zefbiri replies. “We’ve never met, though.” She takes a second bite of her sandwich. She doesn’t know what this conversation is about yet.

Tinaya switches breasts for Silveon, which she doesn’t typically have to do this early in the feeding process. Hopefully there’s nothing wrong with her supply. “Well, we would like you to meet her today. We’ve already time mirrored her, but we were hoping to make a holo-call. I believe it’s her dinner time.”

“Sure, that’s fine. The more the merrier, as the Earthans say,” Zefbiri decides.

Arqut taps on the control tablet, and initiates the call. Niobe is suddenly sitting next to them. “You started without me?”

“Sorry,” Tinaya replies.” Silvy was impatient.”

Niobe smiles. “It’s fine. So, what’s up?” She sits down at her own table

“Are you alone on your end by chance?”

“Vaska,” Niobe calls up towards the control room as she’s starting to stretch. “Vaska!” She has her hands against the back of her head, and she’s pulling her muscles apart as far as they can possibly go. “Get out!”

There is no way to know if Vaska really has left, or if anyone else is lurking. A crowd of a dozen people could be watching them in secret from outside the perimeter of the cavity, and as long as they stayed quiet, the people on the call from the ship would never be able to tell. They have to trust Niobe, which is why they’re here. Tinaya leans her chin forward like a baby bird so Arqut can slip her some soup. She likes to keep hold of her baby with both arms while he’s nursing. “Listen, we brought you two together, because we ain’t gettin’ any younger. Arqy used to be older than me, that’s how crazy the world we live in is. Anything could happen at any moment. Zef already knows this, but I need to explain to you, Niobe, that he and I are linked. We will both die at the same time, and since we had this little guy when we were so old, there’s a chance that he’ll still be quite young when that happens.”

“You two are also young, but old enough to care for a child,” Arqut continues. “The only question is if you would be willing to take on that responsibility, should the need arise within the next couple of decades. We would like to ask you both to agree to be Silveon’s designated guardians. I know it’s a lot. How do you feel about it?”

Niobe was setting up her meal, but she stops short. Zefbiri stopped eating when Tinaya started talking, but she still had the sandwich in her hand. She unwittingly loosens her grip too much, and it falls to the floor. She doesn’t notice it right away, but then she looks down, and freaks out. “Oh my God. No, I’m sorry.” She desperately reaches down, and begins to put the pieces back together. “I promise, I would never drop your baby. Oh my God, no!” She’s even more desperate now, trying to wipe up every bit of mustard.

“Zef. Zef.” Arqut gently takes her by the wrist, and lifts it up. “The sandwich isn’t a metaphor for our baby. It’s all right. Relax.”

“I’m sorry,” Zefbiri still isn’t really getting that the food accident has nothing to do with their decision.

“Really, don’t worry.” Arqut pauses for a moment. “So, is that a yes? Do you want to be Silveon’s guardian?”

Zefbiri looks over at Niobe, who is still in shock. “Are we a package deal?”

“No,” Tinaya answers. “We wanted to ask you together, but if only one of you wants to sign the papers, that’s okay. Please look into your own hearts, and decide for yourselves.”

Niobe lets out a prolonged squeak, like someone with sleep paralysis who’s screaming in their head, but barely audible in the real world. “I would be honored,” she finally manages to articulate.

“Yeah!” Tinaya shouts. She high-fives Arqut. “One down, one to go! Give me some soup.” She accepts another sip off the spoon.

“Okay,” Zefbiri begins. “I don’t want this to sound like I’m being ungrateful, or anything, but if she and I are going to be in this together, then I think it only makes sense that we meet each other for real. I mean, when something happens—if!” She corrects herself. “If something happens, then either I’m going to move to Verdemus, or—”

“You’re going to move to Verdemus,” Niobe decides without discussion.

Zefbiri turns her head back away from her, and tries to work it out in her head. “Right. I would move there,” she agrees, seemingly not knowing the logic in that, but not wanting to be a contrarian.

“Actually, Niobe,” Tinaya says. “As complicated as it is with you not being on the Extremus manifest, we could figure out how to swing that. What we can’t do is let the dead Captain’s son mysteriously disappear forever without an explanation. You would have to come live here instead. Given this clarification, if you feel the need to change your answer, we totally understand. We chose you both...despite your current interstellar disassociation, because we love and trust you both. That was our only concern when we were making the list, who do we think could handle this responsibility? Others fit the bill, and live at the same place, but the problem with them is that they’re...”

“Of the older persuasion,” Arqut finishes her thought for her again.

“Exactly,” Tinaya confirms. “You two are of the perfect age.”

Niobe stands back up, and starts to pace around, occasionally stepping out of the bounds of the holographic cameras. “I’m still in,” she eventually says, “but if that’s a requirement, then I think I should just move here now, and establish myself as preexisting member of society. We wouldn’t want me to show up on day one, and have the Extremusians question who the hell I am, and where I came from. Like you said, we would need to make an identity for me, but that’s better done now than later.”

“Yeah, that makes sense,” Arqut replies. “We just didn’t want to throw too much at you. We’re already asking so much.”

“No, it’s everything I ever wanted.”

They all look back at Zefbiri, who has yet to give them an official answer. “Okay, so I thought I would feed two birds with one worm, but I still...I...”

“What is it?” Arqut asks.

“I’m still hoping to go to check out Verdemus. I’ve always wanted to go.” Her gaze switches uncomfortably between Tinaya and Arqut, and the floor.

Arqut chuckles. “I think that can be arranged, sister.”

« < » > Table of Contents

Microstory 2247: Anecdotes that Never Happened

< > Table of Contents

Generated by Google Gemini Advanced text-to-image AI software, powered by Imagen 3

Good news is I bought a new bed today. I was looking for specific one with special features. Back on my Earth, I had one like it. I didn’t buy it myself, but my sister did. Then she moved to another country, and couldn’t take with her, so I got it instead. It’s not something that I would have chosen, because I struggled with holding onto work, and didn’t have the marketable skills to afford it. But now I’m in a different position. Now I can buy things like this. It is really comfortable, but that’s not the reason I did it. Like I said, sister gave it to me, so it’s just a small connection to my past. I know it’s the same thing as being around the people that I care about, but it’s still a small bit of home. Or it’s a reminder of it anyway. I should look for more things like this, to make myself feel a little more comfortable, and a little more safe. There is nothing in this world that anyone in my family is so much as aware of. They never seen the movies you make. They have heard of your presidents. They not study your history. I have to do my best to pretend. If I were back there, my dad would have helped me carry this thing in, and up the stairs. We would have bumped the wall at least once, and after four years, he wouldn’t have able to take it anymore after occasionally passing by it when he visited, and fix it for me. My mom would have insisted on buying my sheets for me. I can make up these little anecdotes that never happened, but could have, and almost feel like I’m back where I belong. It makes feel better. And I really need it. Especially right now. I’ve spent all day cleaning and arranging our new furniture, so I’m going to break in this new bed, and get to bed early. I see you tomorrow, and all that.

Microstory 2246: So There’s That

< > Table of Contents

Generated by Google Gemini Advanced text-to-image AI software, powered by Imagen 3

Moving day! That happened fast. One thing that has made it easier is that we don’t have to worry about selling the place where we lived before, and we don’t have to transport any furniture. Well, we did have a few things. Kelly left some stuff at her old place, and so did Dutch, though his parents had moved a lot to storage while he was missing. I only have enough belongings to carry in one small suitcase because I’ve left my apartment the way it is for the next tenant. I hope they like it. What we’re gonna have to do now is buy stuff to fill the new house up. The security firm is taking care of some of that, because they need it to be secure, of course. Also of course, I can’t give you details on our security protocols, because that would be dumb. But they’re good, so don’t come after us, lemme tell you that. There will be cameras, and other sensors. I won’t bore you with any more information about this stuff. I’m sure you’re all more interested in the surgeries that I’m about to have. Well, there’s no updates on those at all, so I can’t tell you what I don’t know. Oh, and the President of the United States wants to meet me, so there’s that. NBD.

Microstory 2244: Living With Other People

< > Table of Contents

Generated by Google Gemini Advanced text-to-image AI software, powered by Imagen 3

I took a look at the new place where I think we’re gonna move into. It’s really nice and new. The couple who originally commissioned it to be built ended up going through a divorce pretty much right after it was finished, reportedly because of the stress of building it. I don’t wanna gossip, though. It has five bedrooms, a finished basement, and a near finished attic. It’s not dusty and cobwebby up there, but you wouldn’t want to carry up a bed, and sleep. It’s not the kind of place that I would normally even consider, but things are different now. It’s not just about me anymore. It’s important for it to be this big. It will be easier to fortify while still maintaining privacy for each of us. Members of our security team will actually be able to live inside the house with us, instead of just being posted in a car on the street. Everyone will have their own bathroom, which I think is the biggest problem with living with other people. If you can just have your own space to clean up and take care of your business, it makes it a lot easier to deal with everything else. Well, anyway, I put in an offer, and I’ve not heard back yet, so there’s no guarantee that it’s even happening. We’ll see. In other news, I managed to schedule my next surgeries. They’ll be happening in eleven days, on a Monday. In the meantime, I’ll be sending samples to the surgeon, and occasionally going in. While Kelly no longer works for me, she’s still trained as a lifecare assistant, so I won’t have to drive to the lab every single day, or anything. I think that’s about it for me today. I’m having lunch with Jasmine and Leonard tomorrow, so that should be fun.

Microstory 2147: That I Hate You

< > Table of Contents

Generated by Google Gemini Advanced text-to-image AI software, powered by Imagen 2

I’ve lived here for—how long have I lived here for—I don’t remember, and I don’t want to look it up. As usual, I didn’t bother meeting my neighbors. This isn’t ever some kind of intentional effort on my part, where I avoid them like the plague. It’s not that I think that we won’t get along, though let’s be fair, we probably won’t. It’s just that I don’t give it much thought. The first day when I move into a new place, I’m busy doing that. The second day is about figuring out how my daily behavior is going to change. The next few days are about implementing those changes, seeing what works, and rethinking accordingly. After that, I’ve established a routine, and while I can alter it as necessary, I pretty much stick to what I know until it becomes too inconvenient, and I have to come up with new solutions. Other people don’t factor into it unless they were a part of it before, such as my family back on my homeworld. Meeting people is not something that I’ve ever been interested in. I’ve tried to ask a number of neurotypicals what the point of getting to know new friends is. Not one of them has been able to explain why exactly they like it. They act like it’s a biological imperative, like eating, or propagating the species. And it’s true to some degree. Evolution favors life-preserving traits, and humans have survived through tribal collaboration. But that’s not really what that is, is it? The only tribe that I need is currently around five billion strong. If I need a coat, I know where to go. If I need help getting a door open because my hands are full, someone nearby will likely oblige. I wouldn’t expect to have to foster some strong relationship with that person. In fact, if true connection is something that they required before helping in such a small way, we would all probably consider them not that great of a person. I’m not going to become friends with people just so they’ll open the door for me, because I don’t want to be associated with someone who won’t open the door for a stranger. My point is that whatever joy you experience by getting to know others is not inherent to your survival, which means that it is not necessarily universal. To be sure, it’s not even true for me, and I’m sure there are plenty of others. It doesn’t make us misanthropic hermits either. I think it’s perfectly reasonable for a beekeeper to only want to be friends with other beekeepers, for instance. Of course, this kind of mentality has the potential to lead to prejudice and otherism, but it doesn’t have to. I’m not a beekeeper, I’m just me. My interests don’t align well with others. For one, the things that I used to love don’t exist in this universe, such as Stargate. But also, loving Stargate has never been my entire identity, and I didn’t find myself enjoying being in the company of other fans, for reasons that I won’t get into. I think that I just don’t want to be around people who are like me any more than I want to be around people who aren’t like me. Again, it’s not that I hate you; it’s just that that’s not how I choose to live in the world. Anyway, my neighbor suddenly invited me to dinner tonight, so we’ll see how that goes.

Microstory 2129: Eat All the Things

< > Table of Contents

Generated by Google Gemini Advanced text-to-image AI software, powered by Imagen 2

Today was a fun day for me, but will make for a pretty boring post for all of you. My new company gave me both a signing bonus, and an advance. I’m not a millionaire or anything, but I have enough money in my bank account to start taking care of myself. After the pre-onboarding paperwork and meetings that I had to go through—which I can’t talk to you about—I went shopping. I bought groceries, as well as other necessary new belongings, like a nightstand to put next to my bed. I got a lot of walking done today, because I don’t have a car, and I had to make separate trips, since I didn’t want to be carrying all of the bags around. For the larger furniture, like that nightstand, and a rug for the dining area, I had to make a whole separate trip each. Fortunately, I’m in a really convenient area, so it’s not like I had to travel for miles and miles to get to these places. I have this problem when I go grocery shopping, especially if I’m starting with very little, or in this case, almost nothing. I buy everything that I feel like eating that day, but that’s too much food, so I have to choose one for my next meal, and save the rest for later. Or I don’t wait, and eat all the things. That’s how I gained so much weight even after leaving college. The way it worked in the dorm cafeteria was that I could eat all the food I wanted every time I swiped my card, and I felt like I had to take advantage of the savings by eating extra, because my parents were paying for it. I thought that this sort of behavior would stop once I moved into an apartment during my last year, but by then, I was used to binging, and couldn’t help myself. That’s never really stopped, even when I’ve been able to lose weight, which is what happened when I became immortal, but it’s coming back now, so I have to be really careful. Anyway, I’m sure you don’t wanna hear any more about my eating disorder and weight issues.

Microstory 2128: Carve Out Some Real Time

< > Table of Contents

Generated by Google Gemini Advanced text-to-image AI software, powered by Imagen 2

My therapist session went pretty well, though there’s really nothing interesting for me to tell you about. I told her that I was from another universe, but we didn’t get into it yet. We didn’t even get into my arrest. We basically pretended like I was a perfectly normal thirtysomething man who had a relatable childhood, and was starting a new job. We discussed my upbringing, my educational background, and my past work experience. She just wanted to get to know me before trying to give me any advice, or help me through my issues. We obviously didn’t have time to go over my entire life story, especially not since I first had to spend some time filling out paperwork, and setting up a payment arrangement, so I’m sure the next session will basically be the same thing. So nothing juicy to report yet, you’ll just have to wait. In the meantime, let me tell you about my new apartment, which I finalized today. It’s on the edge of the city, on the Kansas side, which makes it fairly close to the intermittent jail facility, as well as the parole offices. Sometimes Leonard will be visiting me at home, sometimes I’ll have to go to his office, and sometimes we’ll meet somewhere in the middle. This is a really great location, and I’m satisfied with my choice. The building has a ton of amenities, which I never used before, but which I’m sure I’ll start now. There’s a gym, and now that I’m no longer immortal, I’ll probably have to start worrying about my health a little more. It includes a lap pool, and that’s all it’s for. While it’s okay for children to live here, this place advertises mostly to busy working adults; single people, and childless couples. There’s a playroom that can cater to various ages, though there’s no dedicated supervisor on site, so parents can’t just drop off their young ones, and go out. The complex also has a communal area for eating, which is connected to a few popular restaurants, though these restaurants are not technically part of the complex; they just built them within its walls. They’re open to the public. My company doesn’t foresee me needing to meet clients in person, and even if I do, I’ll probably have to go to them, but if one of them happens to be in the area, the second floor also has offices that can be rented by the hour, so that’s pretty handy.

I pretty much had to get this process fast-tracked, because I needed to move in today. I’m spending all day tomorrow going through some pre-onboarding procedures for my new job, including a formal background check, even though I don’t have much of a verifiable background. I really wanted to finish this all up by the end of the week, so I can let the FBI off the hook for my expenses. I also didn’t want to schedule anything for Friday. That’s the day that I go back into jail, and even though I don’t report until the evening, I really don’t want to start making any commitments that could potentially turn into conflicts. I may feel more comfortable in the future, or I may just always leave that day available for safety. The beauty of my new job is that I can set my own hours, which means Mondays could be their own buffer too, if need be. Fortunately, in terms of the apartment, I don’t have any belongings, so once they handed me the key, I just walked right in. The FBI is continuing to let me use their laptop for now, but depending on how long the pre-onboarding takes tomorrow, I may go shopping at some point. If I have to do that on Friday instead, that will probably be okay, because I could always leave the store early if I lose track of time. It probably won’t be until Tuesday until I can carve out some real time to go shopping, for lamps, and groceries, and whatnot. I spent my whole life waiting for the weekend to do extra things like all this. It’s going to take some time before I’m used to reversing that, and not forgetting absent-mindedly that my weekends are no longer free, and won’t be for several months.

Microstory 2099: That Slacking Pays Off

< > Table of Contents

Generated by Google Gemini Advanced text-to-image AI software, powered by Imagen 2

Like I said in the last post, I moved around a lot as a kid, as well as into adulthood, and it had an effect on my schooling. For kindergarten, my parents sent me to a hospital academy in Springfield, Missouri. They had some sort of connection to someone there, but as I was so young, I don’t know much about what it was all about, nor whether it was any better than a regular public school. I ended up moving on to that public school the next year, though, for first and second grade. We moved to Lawrence, Kansas before third grade, so I attended a school where we would walk through a tunnel underneath the street, which is not all that common in Kansas, since we tend to have more space. We moved to Overland Park a year later, so I switched schools yet again. Then for fifth grade, they built a brand new school in the district, and I was zoned there, while most of my peers were not. Notice how I said peers instead of friends. The last person I could confidently call my friend was in Springfield, and he grew up to become a republican, so that relationship was doomed to fail eventually. Anyway, most of the kids in my fifth grade class went to the middle school right next to it, but they rezoned the district again, and I ended up going to the middle school that was generally fed into from the elementary school that I went to for fourth grade, which placed me back with all the kids I thought I would never see again, and in many cases, hoped I wouldn’t. Funny enough, three years later, they built a brand new high school, and most of the kids from my middle school didn’t go there with me. I actually think we technically lived closer to the older high school, but somebody was apparently gerrymandering the school district. I guess it can happen in all levels of government, eh?

After I graduated from grade school, I took a gap year. I didn’t call it that; I doubt I even knew that that was a thing that some people did. My parents didn’t think that I was ready for college, and they were probably right. We didn’t know at the time that I had a diagnosable learning disability, which led to a lack of skills in maturity and socialization, which teachers don’t get paid enough to focus on, especially not since their funding is often dependent upon their students’ standardized test performance. Instead of continuing my education right away, I flew to California, where I volunteered on a farm. The greater organization provided livestock to developing regions of the world, and this particular location was designed to promote awareness of their mission, and educate visitors. My autism bit me in the ass when I was having trouble getting along with the other volunteers, so they kicked me out. I won’t tell you what the organization is called, but they made up these lies about how lazy I was, and how I didn’t do any work, which anyone could see were lies, because they kept changing their reasons. So they’re assholes, and I hate them. I’m the type to hold a grudge, and the only reason I don’t hold more of them is because I have a terrible memory. But I remember this traumatic experience. I’ll never forget how they treated me, and I’ll never support them again. It turned out to be a blessing, though, because Hurricane Katrina destroyed the gulf states soon thereafter, and I decided to take classes with the American Red Cross, and fly down there right away. That’s why I’ve been to Texas, Louisiana, Mississippi, and Alabama. I went home after one round, developed my first staph infection, got it cleared up, and then went back, this time being assigned to Florida, so I finished out the southern row.

After that second stint with the Red Cross was done, I enrolled at my junior college for a few classes, only one of which ultimately transferred properly to my four-year school, which I started the following summer. It’s annoying, really. When you do the math, I am quite certain that I could have graduated from college in three years, extremely plausibly in two. I kept taking summer classes, and took a full load for each term, plus I failed out an entire semester, plus several other classes after that. If everything had gone well, I’m really sure it could have taken me less than three years, I just had too many credits when considering how much I had from dual enrollment during my high school career. I failed too many courses, yet still made it in four years, for that not to be true. If I could go back in time, I would have graduated by the time I turned 21, I’m sure of it. In the real timeline, I graduated in 2010 with a degree in Linguistics, barely eking by with the minimal requirements. For the final semester, I was taking a geography class, because I thought it would be fun, but it turned out to be too technical, so I dropped it, and switched what I thought would be an extra linguistics credit. I literally signed the paper on the very last day allowed, and had to take a test with everyone else on my first day of the new class. I aced it, by the way, even though I had zero time to so much as open the book, so don’t act like you’re not impressed. A few weeks later, I was talking to my advisor when I learned that I needed an A in one of my linguistics classes and a B in the other in order to make the minimum GPA for graduation. If I had not switched classes at the last minute, that would have meant an entire extra term there. Thank God Geography 101 was so boring.

I didn’t learn a whole hell of a lot in school, if I’m being honest. I know that people will argue that I’ve retained more than I realize, but I dunno. I did a lot more studying in the decade afterwards than I did in the four years I was there. I did learn a valuable lesson once. In one of my linguistics classes, I was notoriously absent. I only showed up for tests, and other students’ presentations, because I wanted to be respectful. I didn’t do well on the assignments, and only kept myself afloat with my superior writing skills. That’s a bonus lesson that I learned; that teachers’ standards for writing had to be so low that I could get an A on a paper even if I phoned it in. Give me enough time to craft my words, and I could probably figure out a way to convince you that liquid water was dry. But that’s not the lesson I learned in this class; I already knew that I was a writer by then. No, what I learned there was far more valuable, because it applies to everyone. The other students were more interested and focused, so they formed a study group that I was not a part of. I would like to think that they would get up to entertaining shenanigans like the characters on the show Community, but I will never know. Still, I benefited from their hard work. The final exam was an open notes test, and someone in the study group let me have a copy of their study sheet. I can’t remember how well I did, but it was well enough to pass the class, when really, it should have been another failure. So what did that teach me, that slacking pays off? No. It taught me to trust and believe in others, and to accept help when it’s needed. I don’t have to do everything all on my own, and I shouldn’t want to. Humans are a tribal species, and community—there’s that word again—is the only reason we have managed to advance to the point of dominating this planet. So instead of ignoring people, or dismissing them, try to listen, surrender to their expertise when warranted, and let’s all work together to build a better tomorrow. No one gets through this life alone, and it would suck if they had to.

Oh, PS, I took a few more classes over the years after getting my degree, but we’ll talk more about that in the next post, because I signed up for some of them in the pursuit of figuring out what I could do for a living.