Microstory 2493: Eldome

< > Table of Contents

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

They call this a train, but that doesn’t really do it justice. A train involves separate cars linked together, following each other along a track. This, on the other hand, is more like a big-ass disc that spins around. It’s not just like that, that’s exactly how it is. It does have the feel of a train while you’re inside, except the seats can be adjusted so you’re facing any direction. To get the full experience, they expect you to look through the window the whole time. The window is slanted, so you can really get a clear view of everything. It’s about 11 kilometers up in the air, so there is nothing that you can’t see on the surface of the entire dome after the nearly four-hour trip. It moves pretty slow, which some might find boring, so just be aware of that before you sign up. I mean, I don’t think I thought that it was going to be a fast ride, but four hours is a long time to look at some hills and trees. It was lovely, to be sure. I just don’t know if it’s any better than a sim, or a holographic window. I guess I just wasn’t sure if I was meant to feel something. The idea is that you turn your chair so you’re looking through the window at the beautiful landscape below. I just think that it was too high up. Yeah, so I can see the center from here, but so what? It would be better if we were lower, and could see the geography in greater detail. The prospectus doesn’t do a rating system because they, like, did studies long ago, and determined that they were no longer necessary when an AI is just gonna summarize all the reviews for a deeper focus on quality, but if they still allowed them, I would give this place two stars. It wasn’t bad, and I don’t feel like I wasted my time, but as far as leisure domes go, this one is not my favorite.

EDIT: I’m such an idiot. There are multiple discs. Not all of them are that high up, and the lower ones go faster. They’re all still four hours long, which I think was the source of my confusion when I was misinterpreting the description. One of them actually is a train, and it’s situated on the ground, so you can only see what’s right in front of you. I’m gonna try that one next. Glad we got that cleared up. Sorry, ignore me.

Microstory 2486: Estuaridome

< > Table of Contents

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

There is a mountain under this dome, which is nearly all natural, and a river flowing from it. It’s not a particularly long river, but it’s necessary to support the star of the show, which is of course, the estuary. Like Nordome Network, this is not only one dome. It’s connected to the one next to it, but it’s unique in that it connects to a non-standard-sized dome. An estuary doesn’t just mark the end of a river. It serves as the transition between a river and the ocean, so in order for this to work, they needed an ocean. Sure, they could have dug a mini-ocean inside this dome just to get the point across, but why do that when you can simply choose a spot that’s next to a full-sized ocean, which they were doing anyway? Estuaridome butts right up against Aquilonian Deep. They share an atmosphere, and you can travel between them freely, either by boat, or along the bank / shore. There’s nothing to do here, really. You can’t camp overnight. You can’t have parties, or participate in water sports. You can have a nice picnic, and obviously, you can go on a hike. You can climb the mountain, or just sit and enjoy the peace. But you can’t do anything disruptive, destructive, or annoying. There is a tour you can take, if you don’t want to be self-guided. I took that one day, then came back to just be alone the next. The tour guide was very knowledgeable, and you could tell that he was a human who studied all this stuff on purpose, rather than a superintelligence who simply downloaded the data. He will tell you all about this estuary, and what kind of life lives there, but he can also answer questions about other estuaries on Earth. But just Earth. He has not studied other habitable planets in the galaxy, nor even other water-based domes on Castlebourne. That’s not a complaint, just a warning to direct your questions appropriately. That’s all I’ll say about this. It’s nice and enjoyable, but it isn’t revolutionary, and it’s not any better than a natural geographic fixture.

Microstory 2483: Campodome

< > Table of Contents

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

Camping has never gone out of style, but it’s had its ups and downs. Once our ancestors invented computers, they realized how disruptive it was to be away from their devices. People in the 19th century were basically, like, “camping is just living without being in a building, and peeing in the woods”. Over time, the gap between regular urban living and camping in a tent widened. Then we started developing better portable energy storage, and more prolific satellite connectivity, and it started going back the other way in many respects. You could go out to the middle of the woods, and enjoy nature, while still maintaining a connection to the outside world, to just about whatever degree you wanted. There were snobs, of course, who said that you really shouldn’t have anything, and to a certain extent, I agree. Glamping is what they called it when you basically lived in a tiny home with no sacrifice of amenities. Really, what’s the point? The leaders on Castlebourne couldn’t answer that either, so it doesn’t exist here. There are all kinds of other camping formats, though. Forest, prairie, desert, even wetlands, and snow camping. What people don’t realize is that each dome is large enough to be fully capable of supporting a diverse multi-biome ecology. You just have to tailor the terrain to fit what you need, and maybe add a bit of scientific intervention. Colder regions are near the top of a mountain range, as you might expect it on Earth. It doesn’t have seasons, since the kind of engineering that would require is just a little beyond what’s practical. It’s not impossible, but it’s more logical to divide climates up by areas. You choose where you wanna camp, and how you wanna do it. Some people go out there and totally rough it. They have no supplies, no food, maybe not even clothes. There’s a subculture of people who go out there totally naked and alone, and survive on their skills.

As I said, there are no seasons, though these survivalists can replicate them by moving to different spots. I will say that that’s not quite right, because if you really wanted to start your journey in Spring, and see how you fared when the weather changed, you would build your shelter as well as you possibly can, and wait for it to become necessary. That’s not a feasible option when your campsite has to shift in order to account for that journey. So maybe they can improve upon that. I know it’s not easy, and maybe they shouldn’t try. After all, that’s why the flying spaghetti monster made Earth, because it already has everything you need, and the cycles kind of take care of themselves. I’ve not mentioned it yet, but there are hiking and backpacking routes, if you like to stay on the move. Some of them are pretty long, but nothing that compares to the grueling trek of the Pacific Crest or Appalachian Trails. There’s just not enough space. There might be a dome out there that winds you around enough times to cover that distance, but it’s not here. This is mostly about the camping and again, some things probably should be left to the homeworld. We didn’t spend decades rewilding the surface exclusively to leave it to nature. We still allow ourselves access to that nature, and are encouraged to camp when we feel like it. So, is this place better at what it does? No, I shouldn’t think so. You’re still in a snowglobe. You will always know it’s artificial. And it’s nothing we don’t have elsewhere, unlike say, the waterpark in Flumendome, or the realm in Mythodome, but it’s still pretty nice. I certainly wouldn’t cast your consciousness here with the express intention of coming to this dome, but it’s a great option if you’re already here, and need to take a break from civilization.

Microstory 2359: Earth, July 23, 2179

< > Table of Contents

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

Dear Corinthia,

Thank you for reminding me about the whole study aspect of our separation. I did ask dad about this, and didn’t let him leave the room until he explained everything. At least that’s what I said when the conversation began; he never actually tried to escape. He doesn’t know what happened after you and your mother left. They deliberately withheld information from him. The way we’ve understood it thus far, it seemed like this twisted, nefarious conspiracy with a cabal of evildoers who don’t care about ethics. Dad painted it in a new light, even though I’m not sure he realized it. In reality, it kind of sounds more like an amateur job. They weren’t very well-organized, and they didn’t have much of a plan beyond separate twins, study behavior. Imagine that in a caveman voice, because the more he talked about his limited involvement, the dumber the researchers sounded. After the atmosphere started to become toxic, the only constant in my life was him. No one else was around for any meaningful length of time. There was no one studying me, up close, or from a distance. They couldn’t have. Society was breaking down, and had yet to rebuild itself in a new way. Whoever was assigned to keep tabs on me would have either lost me, or given up. Or, I suppose they could have died. Not everyone made it through that dark period in our history. Dad says he doesn’t have names, and I believe him on that part. I mean, you can look through your own databases on Vacuus, but I can’t find a single study that has anything to do with observing twins across two planets. I think you said it early on, we’re not identical, and we’re two different genders, so right there, the study was already bizarre. There are too many relevant variables to account for, so unless it’s part of a larger case study, you’re not going to gain any significant insights into how twins develop in terms of nature versus nurture. My guess is that they realized as much before too long, and eventually just gave up, leaving us to live our lives however we were going to. I don’t think we’ll ever really know who was responsible for this, or what they were thinking. Some information has been lost on my world, but I do have access to quite a bit of it. A small group of brave people during the toxic buildup dedicated their lives to preserving humanity’s knowledge. Some regions have information that others don’t, but only due to oversights and lapses, not a concerted effort to hide the truth from us. At least not when it comes to this stuff. The people who poisoned the air in the first place? Sure, they hid as much as they could from the people they were hurting, and still do, but they really would not care what happened to the two of us specifically. On the lighter side, I’m glad that you’ve worked things out with this Bray fellow. Let me know if he gives you any more trouble, though, and I’ll beat him up for you.

Enjoying my private life,

Condor

Microstory 2355: Earth, June 23, 2179

< > Table of Contents

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

Dear Corinthia,

Yeah, it sounds like Nature Wars is pretty much out of the question. I don’t want to put you out of commission for that long, and I did a little more research. It doesn’t sound like something I would be very interested in, especially not all the way across 2,352 episodes! The premise of being in the pure air isn’t what bothers me, though, lol. I mean, I suppose if all they talk about is how clean the atmosphere is, it would get annoying, but I’m guessing that would have been true a hundred years ago when it was last on. I do think that I have a different idea, though, which could work depending on how familiar you are with the franchise. The best part about it is that it would feed two birds with one worm. If you’re lookin’ for a story about a regular person who has to beat the odds despite having no clue what he’s doing, then you’ll probably like The Winfield Files. It’s a series of twelve books, and there’s even a TV adaptation with twelve seasons. It’s about a guy who works in a small town grocery store with a girl who turns out to be part of a witness relocation program. One of her new friends posts a photo of her online against her wishes, which leads the bad guys to finding her location. He happens to be in the background of the photo, and gets embroiled in the intrigue and adventure. So I was thinking that maybe we could read each book, talk about it, then watch the season of the show that’s based on it, and talk about that too. Or we could read a chapter, or watch an episode, at a time, if you would rather break it up more. I’ve never read them myself, because I’m more into the classics, but it sounds like a great place to meet in the middle. Let me know what you think. It would be nice to have something to talk about that we’ve both actually experienced. The “joint” parties were great, but they were still separate parties. But people have remote book clubs all the time, and it seems to work out for them. The delay is still there—but it always will be, so we may as well work within its boundaries since that’s our only choice.

Looking for two birds to feed,

Condor

Microstory 2354: Vacuus, June 15, 2179

< > Table of Contents

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

Dear Condor,

Well, Nature Wars started out in 2006. It was a fairly cheap show to produce with no writers, inherently minimal sets, and an adaptable format that saw the hosting duties change hands five times (though, one host only lasted three seasons before basically being forced to turn it back over to Leyton Parkins after his legal issues were positively resolved). They were usually able to shoot two entire seasons per year, resulting in 147 seasons over the course of 75 years (a few random production issues led to only one season in each of a few years). Let’s continue on with the math. I’m currently in the middle of the 83rd season. Every season, without fail, has had 16 hour-long (minus some ads) episodes total, but the finale is always twice as long. So that’s about...15.5 hours per season. Multiply that by 83, and you’re looking at 1,286 hours of television that you would have to watch just to catch up to where I am. Then we have about a thousand more hours left. That would take a lot of dedication on your part, and we don’t even know if you would like it. You might be annoyed to see those people taken to those beautiful remote locations where the air is pure, and clean enough even where they normally live. You may be annoyed at me just for talking about it right now. That all being said, I’m willing to wait if you think you have the time for it, but I don’t want to die without seeing the final season finale. I’ve been watching this stuff since I was a wee little girl on the interplanetary ship. Let’s try to think of some more options. I know you don’t watch a lot of stuff, but when you do, what kind of things do you like? Are they still making more movies and shows? Are there domes over studio lots that are dedicated to keeping the visual arts alive? Surely we can find something that we’ll both enjoy. We can do it with literature too. Perhaps you could recommend books to me, and we could also share in that. Once we get to know each other’s tastes, we could select a book to read at the same time, and then exchange thoughts, like a penpal book club. I tend to gravitate towards stories that involve regular people in extraordinary circumstances. They don’t have the experience or training, but they have to make it through to solve the problem, and the usually do, even if it kills them. Let me know what you think.

Living in that pure air (but for a different reason),

Corinthia

Microstory 2353: Earth, June 8, 2179

< > Table of Contents

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

Dear Corinthia,

Hobbies, yes. We haven’t ever talked about hobbies. That could be because I don’t really have any either. I like to read, which is basically the same thing as watching TV. It’s cheap, and doesn’t require any space, or consumable resources. I’ve had the same e-reader for the last couple of decades now, I guess. Wow, I’ve never realized how impressive that is. It’s probably my one possession that’s been with me for so long. I could upgrade to a better model, but why fix what ain’t broken, right? As far as hobbies on Earth in general, we do have a little more leeway here than I’m guessing you do on the base. There’s always some sports game going on, but not competitively, or anything. It’s mostly been kept alive for health reasons. Ya gotta stay fit, and just hanging from a pull-up bar or doing a few push-ups is boring. I used to play a little football as a kid, before the gases, but I never got back into it in the latter years. I don’t miss it, and have no plans on going back. So yeah, there’s all that. I have indeed heard of Nature Wars, but I’ve never seen it. Maybe that’s something we can do “together”. What episode are you on? If you can busy yourself watching other things, perhaps I could get caught up on that, and it will be one thing that sort of brings us closer together. Or, if you think there’s a better show that we might like more, you tell me. I could give you some recommendations on books, because I feel like a lot of them are timeless. I’ve always thought it was weird to watch movies that are clearly contradicted by the true state of affairs, like those set in their future, but the world hasn’t been poisoned. I’m not sure why it doesn’t seem to bother me to read about it. I’m just a weird dude, I guess.

Over here, not collecting stamps,

Condor

Microstory 2352: Vacuus, June 1, 2179

< > Table of Contents

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

Dear Condor,

Oh no! I’m sorry that you’re going through all that! There must be some way to make new friends without just having to meet them organically. That doesn’t really work when you’re as old as we are. It’s more of a kid thing, but even then, it really only happens if you belong to the same class, or are in the same football team. We...don’t have sports teams here, of course, but I’ve read about them in books. Since you should have more space under the dome, I’m guessing sports are still a thing for you? Maybe you don’t do them yourself, but do you have any other interests, like knitting or stamp collecting? Sorry, I just searched our database for hobbies, and I’m listing the first ones that catch my eye. I don’t have any myself, unless you count watching TV. There’s so much content from the before-fore times, and it’s the easiest thing to do while I’m at work. There’s no collecting up here, and there aren’t many opportunities to make things either. It takes resources, and I would rather pay my friend to make something for me than do it myself. Not that I would like it at any rate. I’m just saying that our past times are really limited on the base. Anything that requires the use of a computer or something is the easiest because I’m paying monthly for access anyway, and power is sort of worth whatever it takes, because again, there’s not much else. I’m sure you have limitations too. Man, I really wish they hadn’t poisoned the Earth. I mean, obviously I hate that because it’s bad, but also because you otherwise could have regaled me with stories of how amazing and different life is in the clean air. I could have actually known someone who has been skiing or whitewater rafting. Ugh, that’s probably enough fantasizing about the perfect world. I’m just going to go watch another episode of Nature Wars. Have you heard of it? It’s a reality competition that’s all about going out into nature, and leaving pollution behind. Back then, that was possible, and you didn’t even have to do it on top of a freezing cold mountain.

Living vicariously through our ancestors,

Corinthia

Microstory 2213: Calming Environment

< > Table of Contents

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

Negative. Negative or inconclusive, that is. All of the blood test results came back, and none of them told us what Nick might have. We woke up to no answers today, just as we have every morning in recent days. He was scheduled to have an MRI in the early afternoon, so we were still hopeful that that would turn up something, but it didn’t tell us anything either. Well, I’m sure it told the doctor something, but it goes over our heads. All we know is that Nick is sick, and there is no apparent treatment for it. While we were waiting for the ultimately unhelpful MRI analysis results, I took him for a walk in the arboretum. This is precisely why they built the hospital at this location, so patients and loved ones can have a calming environment in some of their darkest times. There are trails in there that are somewhat difficult to walk on, or at least which require two legs, but for the less mobile people, there are also paved paths. We stayed on those, but were still able to enjoy a lot of beauty. I think it was really great for him to be out there. If you go deep enough, you stop being able to see the ninety degree angles of the buildings and roads, and hear the sounds of the cars. He told me that he likes either being inside with the conditioned air, or in nature, but not in between. He doesn’t like the urban world, with all its loud artificial noises, and crowds of people. Due to all the jail time he experienced, and the work he did during and after that, he hasn’t been able to spend much time in places like that. He agrees that it did him good, but there was a downside to it. I pushed him in the wheelchair, which is not the same thing as walking it himself. He regrets not going on one more hike, but of course, he had no idea that things would turn out like this. He may never be able to once again walk on his own, but I’ll take him to places like this every day if he wants. Nature has been scientifically proven to be emotionally and mentally beneficial to all, but especially for someone like him, and for someone in his condition. EEG, and maybe a spinal tap, tomorrow. Yikes!

Microstory 2201: Understanding of the Data

< > Table of Contents

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

I came back into the office today. Actually, I got in really early, before the sun came up, but I just watched a nature show on the gargantuan TV until it was time to “clock in”. What happened was I woke up at the end of a cycle, and couldn’t get back to sleep. I didn’t find myself drifting away during the day, though, so I think it will be okay. Sometimes, fighting insomnia is worse, and it’s best just to accept what your body is trying to tell you, even if you’re better at math, and you know that it’s wrong. I won’t be making a habit of it. After everyone else came in, we put a meeting on the books. My Data Analyst wanted to put the finishing touches on his presentation. He gave us his initial findings. He now understands how jail guests are currently scheduled, and as we suspected, it really doesn’t have anything to do with group dynamics. There is so much data, and so many variables to deal with, this is going to be a difficult task, but I know that my people are up to it. The majority of the rest of the team will begin next week. They’ll be spending time on their training, and getting to know each other, so it won’t be until about mid-August before we start making progress, but that progress will happen. The presentation was interactive, with the other team members asking questions, and already contributing to the understanding of the data. He actually rewrote some of the slides while we were all there together. Right now, I’m consolidating and organizing the information that I’ve received in my brain, and thinking about ways that we can tackle this issue in the future, and I’ll continue to do that after I fall asleep tonight.

Fluence: Monarch (Part VII)

< > Entire Story

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

Weaver stepped towards Misha Collins, who looked at her with some level of familiarity, suggesting that he had been here before, or had at least seen her somewhere. He wasn’t shocked or scared, but more annoyed. She reached out to shake his hand, but pulled it away before he could reach back. “Sorry. First. Do you know who we are?”

“You’re Holly Blue, Goswin Montagne, Eight Point Seven Point Two, and Briar. I never learned his last name.”

“Have you been to this location before?” Weaver pressed.

Misha looked around. “Yes. About a month ago.”

“I wish I knew which kind of month we’re talking about,” Weaver muttered to herself. That is, had it also been three months in the Ediacaran period? Understanding whether the disparate time periods were somehow linked to one another could help prevent this from happening again. She reached her hand out once more, but pulled back yet again at the last second. “Sorry, do you like...salmon?”

“I suppose I do, as much as anyone,” Misha said, confused.

“I didn’t say salmon,” Weaver tried to clarify, “I said salmon.” This was a test of sorts. When a time traveler encountered someone whose understanding of time was in question, pointedly asking them whether they liked salmon should indicate at least a baseline. If they thought that they were only talking about the actual fish, they probably didn’t know anything, or perhaps just not very much.

“I’m sorry, I don’t hear the difference,” Misha admitted. He was a human, and while this obviously wasn’t his first time around the block, other shifted selves of this group had so far kept him pretty well in the dark about the details.

“Holly Blue,” she echoed, finally shaking his hand, “but you can call me Weaver.”

“You can call me Castiel, if you want. A lot of people prefer it.”

“We need to get you home, Mister Collins,” Goswin said, also stepping forward. “If you’ve met others like us, and returned home, then they must have figured out how to do it.”

“They just surrounded me in a circle, closed their eyes, and then I was home.”

“That’s all it was?” Eight Point Seven asked.

“Oh.” Misha pointed to Weaver. “You tapped something on this refrigerator, and said something about a bubble.”

“I don’t know how he got through the bubble in the first place,” Weaver began, “but we’ll probably have to drop it to send him back. It would be the only safe way to do it. But we should be quick. We never know when other shifted selves will show up. We could have just missed the group that came before us. Measuring time is difficult. I don’t even keep a clock in here, except for my special watch. I may have left it somewhere...”

“Do what you gotta do,” Goswin requested. “Let’s make this quick. We’ll try to send him back where he belongs, and if it doesn’t work, we’ll just go with him.”

“Wait, there was one more thing,” Misha remembered. “You gave me this.” He knelt down and pulled something off of his shoelace aglet, handing it to Weaver.

She inspected it. “This is a temporal tracker. She probably used it to make sure that you were returned to where you belonged, instead of Belgium, or something. You weren’t meant to keep it; that’s why you were able to break through the bubble.”

“I must have missed that part,” Misha said. “I was looking at the sea cucumber.”

Weaver looked over at the glass. “That’s not a cucumber. What was the date?”

“The first time it happened was January 11, 2011,” Misha answered. “This time, it was February 25.”

She handed him the tracker back. “All right. Wait thirty minutes, and then step on it. I mean exactly thirty minutes. Set your watch to it.”

“I understand,” Misha promised.

“Okay.” Weaver went over to the refrigerator, and started tapping on the screen. Blast doors dropped down over the glass, to block the view of the water, and its sea creatures. She kept tapping on it, causing the space around them to shimmer, implying that the temporal bubble was now down. They all felt a small lurch in their stomachs as a result. Still, Weaver kept tapping on the fridge. They started to hear a persistent beep from down the hallway, the exact source of which was not clear.

“I think your smoke detector needs a new battery,” Misha guessed.

“It’s fine, we like fire,” Weaver said oddly. “You heard the man. Let’s put him in a circle.” They all came together, and held hands, even Briar, who wanted to fix this just as much as the rest of them.

Goswin was the captain here, and even though Weaver knew a lot more about this stuff, he needed to step on up. “We’re trying to get our new friend here back to February 25, 2011. February 25 in...”

“Vancouver. You don’t need to know my exact address; anywhere there is fine.”

“Vancouver, British Columbia, Canada,” Goswin said. “Everyone think about that, and nothing else.”

They shut their eyes instinctually, and focused on the goal. None of them wanted to open their eyes for fear of breaking concentration, but success was fairly obvious when they felt a short burst of wind, and heard the flap of wings. They each peeked with one eye, and found there to only be three others in the room. Weaver checked the tracker output on the fridge. “He’s home.”

“What’s to stop it from happening again?” Goswin asked. “It happened once before, it could happen a third time, and more, and nothing can stop it.”

“You hear that beeping noise?” Weaver posed.

“Yeah?” Briar answered in the form of a question.

Weaver sucked her teeth a little. “We should go. Oh, there’s my watch.”

They climbed out of the bunker, and back onto the surface. One set of their shifted selves was standing out there already, with their version of Weaver trying to unlock the door using the secret boulder switch. “Weaver!One,” she acknowledged with a nod of her head.

“Weaver!Two,” the first Weaver replied.

“Self-destruct?”

“Had to be done.”

“How long?”

Weaver!One looked back at the steps as the hatch was closing up. “It’s soon enough. We should all go.”

“We came here for a reason,” the other Briar pointed out.

“The cons outweigh the pros,” Weaver!One tried to explain. “Now hustle off. Don’t let us get mixed up with each other.”

When Weaver!One tried to walk away, Weaver!Two took her by the arm. “Don’t go back to the Nucleus.” Her eyes darted over to the first Goswin. “One of them has taken his job a little too seriously. We barely escaped.”

“One of the Goswins?” Weaver!One asked.

“Just don’t go to the Nucleus,” she reiterated. “At least one group ended up on Dardius, where they were forced to watch some bizarre propaganda films. They’re taking the Reality Wars very seriously, they think we should join, and they have a way of keeping us from shifting away.” She didn’t say anything more about it.

The two groups separated from each other, and disappeared. At least that was what presumably happened. The first version of the crew leapt away first, leaving the newcomers’ fates in question. Perhaps they would go down into the bunker, halt the self-destruct sequence, and start the whole cycle over again. Misha Collins could spend the rest of his life being shifted back and forth to the Ediacaran period, altering future events irrevocably. It was possible that every other Weaver or Holly Blue who took her copy of the crew to that place inevitably made the same choice to destroy it, only for her plan to be unknowingly thwarted by the next copy. Time and reality were now defined by chaos. That was only meant to be the expected end state of the universe, not the beginning of it, nor the middle.

“This is where you grew up?” Eight Point Seven asked. They were standing by a pond in the middle of a small field, with a forest all around them.

“Monarch, Belgium,” Goswin confirmed. “Population: zero.”

“Your family was the only one here?” Eight Point Seven continued the interview.

“There were others...until the very end. In the late 21st century, when they started erecting all the arcological megastructures, of course most people eventually moved to them, or they wouldn’t have been successful. It was the rewilding effort that did it. As antienvironmentalists started to be turned over to death, it became easier and easier to convince people that giving the land back to nature was the only ethical choice given our technological ability to accomplish it. They left their homes, and made new ones. The cities disappeared, both in name, and in infrastructure. I believe they used to call this Ghent. Ghent didn’t get an arcology. The nearest one is closer to where Antwerp was.”

“Yet some people didn’t do that?”

“The megatowers are more environmentally friendly for sustaining the massive population of the whole planet, but it’s okay if a few choose other methods. North America had their circles, and we had our villages. We lived in arcologies too, just not gigantic ones. We lived on the land, but we didn’t live off of it, instead importing produce from vertical farms. That was my job for a time, pulling the cart of food by bicycle. That’s all I did; just pedaled back and forth from the village to the arc.” He stared at the pond. “Over and over and over and over and over again.” He paused for a few moments. “I got tired of the monotony, so I left. I had studied both history and futurology, so I knew that the villages would die out too. It was only a matter of time before kids like me decided that there were more social options in the towers. I won’t get into how I moved up to become the Futurology Administrator of the whole world, but...I’ll never forget where I came from. This is where my mother died. She wasn’t transhuman, so she only lived for 74 years. My dad underwent some treatments, but he stopped them for her. Unfortunately, I guess, it was too little too late. He still outlived her by 21 years. But not here. After the second to last person left Monarch, he left too, and moved into my cluster in the arc.”

Goswin looked up as if just remembering that he was talking to other people. “For those of you who don’t know, the arcologies are modular. Each unit is the same size, and comes with a baseline configuration, which includes a bathroom. It can be turned into a kitchen, a dining room, a living room, a bedroom, or even a simulacrum of an outdoor space, among other variations. And they can be moved around, so he didn’t move into my cluster of units so much as they literally picked up my one unit, and flew it down to another slot; one that had empty units next to it, which we began to occupy together.”

“Where are we in the timeline?” Eight Point Seven asked him. “Are you still on Earth? Is your father?”

Goswin took a deep breath, and twisted Weaver’s wrist, which sported a watch that always told her the time, even when she traveled through it in the wrong direction, or at the wrong speed. “We were very precise with this jump. My younger self left with my dad fifteen minutes ago. We just had my mother’s burial ceremony.”

“Where’s her grave?” Briar asked.

Goswin actually smiled. “Over here.” He led them down the path a ways.

“Monarch butterflies,” Eight Point Seven pointed out as a few of them began to land on her arms and head.

“Our namesake,” Goswin explained. “Like I was saying, they gave all this back to nature, but they didn’t just let it grow on its own. They planted things on purpose according to a very well thought out ecology algorithm, generated by an entity such as yourself. They decided that Belgium would do well with milkweed, and with milkweed comes Monarch butterflies.” He continued through the trees until coming to another clearing. A gravestone marked the spot where his mother was laid to rest, but it wasn’t altogether necessary. A swarm of monarchs were keeping watch over it.

“It’s beautiful,” Briar couldn’t help but say. He was starting to relax into himself.

“We can’t stay,” Weaver said with a sigh. “We have to go back to the Nucleus.”

Goswin nodded gently, though no one was looking at him; they were still watching the monarchs flutter about. “I know,” he whispered.

“You heard?”

“I may look like a regular human, but I have excellent hearing.”

“Are you prepared to meet your possibly evil self?”

He took a beat, but then answered confidently with, “yes.”

< > Entire Story

Microstory 1691: In All Things

< > Table of Contents

Biological optimization was always sort of in the back of the minds of the people who lived in Moderaverse, even before they earned their name. I couldn’t explain why it is that this version of Earth was so different than others. I couldn’t explain why such a thing ever happens at all. What changes are made that cause this divergence, and why? I suppose that it doesn’t truly require an explanation. It just is. The Moderaversals just reached what they would call technological completeness, and left it at that. That’s what it really comes down to. Most cultures develop a high level of curiosity, and nothing can stop them from pursuing knowledge. They might be held back by religious hangups, or they may be limited by other conditions, such as pandemics, or extreme gravity. But the strongest of them will survive because they had a drive to be better, more advanced. This, I suppose, is an extension of the evolutionary concept of the survival of the fittest. The reason humans always become the dominant species of their world is not because they decide to be better at life. They’re better at life because those fit to survive are the only ones who will survive. Nothing evolves to be subservient, weak, and averse to survival. Such traits always disappear, because anytime they show up in an individual, that individual will struggle to persist, and pass on their genes. So once the species evolves enough to have intelligence, they’ll start using that intelligence to improve themselves. Then it will just keep going until there is nothing left to learn, if such a state is even possible. The Moderaversals, on the other hand, experience no such desire. They have determined that life itself is good enough, and as long as it never ends, they shouldn’t worry about advancing beyond it. They don’t need faster ships, or cooler tech. All they care about is relaxing, exerting as little effort as possible, and living in harmony with nature.

It was a long road to reach this point. As I said, the dream was always there, but it wasn’t always practical. Everyone starts somewhere. No one quite remembers how exactly the movement got started, or who started it, but it was kind of like a nonreligious religion. I guess it was more of a philosophical way of life, where people started to reject modern technology in favor of simpler lives, but still with less work. A true simple life would involve waking up while it was still dark, and working until it became dark again, but they certainly didn’t want that. That wasn’t chill. They got rid of most of their worldly possessions, which included a lot of art. That was one interesting side effect of the movement. Art does not require technology, but the enjoyment of it often does. For them, it meant no more movies, no more television. If they wanted to see a play, admire a painting, or hear music, they would have to go witness it in person. Over the decades, even as technology progressed, the movement grew. The great thing about it was that it was adjustable. Some people eschewed all electricity, while others just tried to unplug more often. Eventually, there wasn’t as much demand for certain things as there are in other universes. Most people didn’t care about looking for life on other planets. They didn’t care about cooling down supercomputers, or building extremely realistic virtual simulations. They just didn’t ever want to die. So that was the kind of science that students started getting into, and the more that started the help them, the less they relied on other things; from the hyperfast pocket devices, to even just clothes. When you can regulate your own body temperature, clothing seems a lot less necessary. There wasn’t really any sort of opposition to this movement. No one decided to move off, and do their own thing somewhere else. They all just fell in line, and got with the program, until doing anything all day other than pretty much nothing was essentially unthinkable to nearly everyone.

Microstory 1611: The Psychics

< > Table of Contents

Every human is born with telepathic potential. The ability to communicate with others using psychic signals is built into our species, and that is not something that can be removed from someone without killing them. It’s just part of who we are. You might be wondering how this is possible. You personally may have never experienced anything resembling telepathy in your life, and you’ve never heard of other people doing it either. How could it be true? Well, there are a number of factors that are operating against you, if you are such one of these people. Some universes are more hospitable to these psychic signals than others. They facilitate the transmission of them easily, whereas some just straight up block it. In other worlds, the signals transmit just fine, but there’s some sort of suppressant in the residents’ biology, neurology, or genetic makeup. There’s also a psychological factor. You have to know that you’re capable of it, and truly believe in yourself, and the people around you have to believe. They have to believe in you, and in themselves, and convincing a significant enough population that it’s all real is a real challenge. Because it has to start somewhere, and there’s no decent way to prove it to them unless they’re inclined to trust in it in the first place. These restrictions can be limited to whole planets, or even regions, and many places never get over them. Earth Prime, for instance, has little problem with psychic signal transference, though it’s certainly not the smoothest. The real issue is that these humans, in particular, don’t generally believe in any of these things. Even those who do only do so out of hope, but you have to have some understanding of the true mechanics, rather than simply relying on your intuitions, and exposure to fictional representations of such phenomena.

Like I said, some universes are better with this than others, and this is no truer than it is for a little place that I like to call Psychoverse. It’s a bit of an offensive term, yes, and I would never say it in front of someone who is from there, but it’s not entirely untrue either. This Earth has a major problem with what essentially boils down to racism. Some people are psychic, and some people aren’t, and those who are enjoy an unreasonable and unfair advantage over the lower class normal people. Attempts at regulation have always been met with heavy resistance, and often end in bloodshed. The psychics consider themselves to be superior to all others, and eventually decide to start referring to their supposed inferiors as The Braindead. Now that really is an offensive term, on multiple levels, and of course, it’s also completely untrue. Psychics aren’t smarter, or better. In fact, they lack a lot of very normal human skills, like independence, critical thinking, and true leadership. The Ochivari are antinatalists, but they only go after populations that are destined to destroy their own planet. The Psychoverse residents were bound to die out, which would have allowed their Earth to thrive, so I’m not sure why the Ochivari invaded. It’s, I guess, a good thing that they did, because the humans adapted quickly, and completely transformed their way of thinking, in order to combat this external threat. They shed their bigotry and injustices, and rose up against their attackers. Luckily, the Ochivari are not immune to psychic attacks, and this is a case of one of the few times when a planet managed to push back the invasion without the help of any of the teams dedicated to winning the Darning Wars across the bulkverse.

Microstory 1537: Grave Error

< > Table of Contents

I’ve always loved going to ________, and in fact ________ to when I’m feeling ________ from work. They make me ________ calm because of how remote they are. Even the ones they ________ inside the ________ seem distant from ________ else, as if crossing through that ________ puts me in a different ________ altogether. I suppose I could just go ________ through nature, like the ________, or ________ ________, because it’s not like I ________ this fascination with ________. Then again, maybe I do, because I do like ________ the names on the tomb____, and especially the ________. I like looking for the ________ grave in the ________, and the most ________ life spans. I guess I can’t say that I ________ it; more like it’s a compulsion. I want to ________ who the youngest person is in ________, and who the ________ is. I saw one a few ________ back where the ________ date was the same as the ________ date. What ________ there? I mean, I ________ what happened ________. But how did the ________ react, and what became of ________ afterwards? It ________ have been heart____, I don’t know what I would have done if I were a ________ of that ________. The oldest ________ I’ve ever found up until ________ was a hundred and ________ years old. I can’t ________ that either, seeing all your ________ ones die as you go ________. I did a ________ research into her and her ________. All five of her ________ passed before her, and all but ________ were pretty old at the time. No one would have scoffed at their ages, but she ________ outlived them, and that must have been pretty ________. Now I’ve found someone who appears to be so much ________ than that, and I don’t know if I can ________ it. This guy’s marker reads ________ 1812 to ________ 1979. That is a hundred and sixty-seven ________. I mean, come on. The marker itself looks ________, so I’m thinking it has to be some kind of prank. I lift up on it, as ________ as that sounds, because I figure if it’s ________, it won’t be stuck in the ________ very well. The marker does move, but not because it hasn’t been ________ for long, but because it’s some kind of switch. The ________ where the grave ought to be ________ over like a trap ________, revealing a ________. A small group of ________ are sitting around a ________. They look up at me, unsurprised by my arrival. “Welcome,” one of them says. Now that you’ve found this ________, you must join us. Or ________.”

Microstory 1389: Flowers

< > Table of Contents

Nature Surveyor: Good afternoon, sir! I was hoping you could answer a few questions about nature, and the environment.

Fiore Stern: Are you trying to get me to save the whales, or something?

Nature Surveyor: No, agenda here, sir. We just wanna know how you feel about the arboretum, and whether you think there’s anything we should change.

Fiore Stern: Well, I think you could do with a few more flowers.

Nature Surveyor: Okay, so we were considering expanding to become partly a botanical garden as well. Are there any examples you know? Like, is there a botanical garden you’re particularly fond of?

Fiore Stern: I don’t understand why you can’t just plant more flowers. You don’t have to change the name.

Nature Surveyor: Well, we do have some flowers, and there’s nothing wrong with that, but an arboretum will focus more on the trees. It’s less open, and you can kind of get lost in it. With a garden, you’ll be able to see a lot more from any one vantage point. So there is a difference, but I’m not rejecting your idea. 

Fiore Stern: Okay.

Nature Surveyor: We were also considering building a second arboretum on the other side of town, but a land developer is also lobbying for that acreage. Would you rather have something like this—or, I suppose, something with more flowers—or a high-tech intentional community that doesn’t allow cars?

Fiore Stern: It doesn’t allow cars? How the hell do people get around?

Nature Surveyor: The developer is hoping to build a robust public transport system, and keep the buildings close to each other, and more vertical, so they take up less land.

Fiore Stern: Weird. So, I guess you do have an agenda.

Nature Surveyor: Both projects are designed to enrich the community, and support the environment. We’re not fighting against them so much as both sides are trying to figure out which development the people would prefer.

Fiore Stern: Well, like I said, I want more flowers.

Nature Surveyor: Yes, I understand that. I’ll write that again over here, to reiterate that you would want less of an arboretum, and more of a botanical garden.

Fiore Stern: Okay, good.

Nature Surveyor: So, this question isn’t on my list, but why is it you like flowers so much? Do you have fond memories of planting with your mother, or something?

Fiore Stern: Not really. When I was a kid, our neighbor planted toxic flowers, and then covered them with this meat paste so our dog wouldn’t be able to resist eating them. It was retaliation for him eating all her good plants.

Nature Surveyor: Oh, dear. Was the dog okay?

Fiore Stern: Nope. I’m the one who found the body. It was the most interesting thing I had ever seen. Of course, I was only a few years old at the time, so pretty much anything fascinated me. I started learning about flowers after that day, though, so I guess it was particularly important.

Nature Surveyor: Oh, my. You wanted to be able to make sure something like that never happened again?

Fiore Stern: No, why would I do that? I don’t eat flowers.

Nature Surveyor: Right, but...okay. Well, that’s all I have for you, so I better get going.

Fiore Stern: I’ve learned a lot since then.

Nature Surveyor: I’m sure you have. I need to go find more people to interview.

Fiore Stern: If you’re hiring, I could use a job. I know a lot about plants, which ones are poisonous, and which ones are fine. The reason I’m in the area is because I’m hoping to go to college here next year. I know I look old, but I was held back one year, and then I took a gap year, and then I was arrested...

Nature Surveyor: Oh, that’s interesting. You can ask for an application at the front office. I gotta go. Bye.

Fiore Stern: (Bitch.)

Microstory 1284: The Squirrels and the Frogs

< > Table of Contents

Squirrels are very timid creatures. The slightest twitch of a twig will cause them to run away, and seek safety. A scurry of squirrels once lived in the southern lands, who did not know what to do with themselves. They didn’t want to live like this anymore, but what else could they do? They were always afraid, but there was never any way to know for sure whether what frightened them was truly something to be feared, or if it was innocuous. The only thing they could do was run, and they only got an answer to the question once they were out of harm’s way, if at all. But what kind of life was that? Was there a way to transcend their nature? Surely they couldn’t become the predators they were so afraid of, and nature never gave them any means to protect themselves. What could they do to feel safer, and not just for one day, but in the long run? Perhaps it was impossible. One day, the whole scurry was running from a team of stampeding horses. The horses meant them no harm, but they also didn’t have any strong feelings about the squirrels, and were making no effort to avoid them underfoot. The squirrels found themselves running towards a lake. While squirrels can swim, the lake was probably too large for them to swim clear across to the other side before becoming too tired and drowning. Still, they didn’t think they had any other choice, so they just kept going. As they approached the bank, an army of frogs noticed them, and hopped into the water, frightened as well. “Look,” said one of the squirrels. “I suppose there is always someone worse off than you, isn’t there? Maybe our lives aren’t so bad.”

“No,” another replied to him, “things are neither good, nor bad. They just are. Come, let us speak with the frogs. If we teach them not to fear us, maybe we can learn to fear less as well.”

This story was inspired by, and revised from, an Aesop Fable called The Hares and the Frogs.

Microstory 1283: The Lion and the Turkey

< > Table of Contents

In the animal preserve, all the animals got along. The predators were given meat by the humans, so the prey no longer felt that they were in danger. A sort of society formed amongst just the animals. They didn’t have a democracy, per se, and they certainly didn’t know how to vote, but they did sort of agree to let the lion rule over them, to some degree. The truth was that there weren’t a whole lot of decisions that these animals needed to make, since the humans took care of pretty much everything, but they liked to feel that they were at least somewhat independent. After all, this was something they could not get in the wild. The lion would never rule over anything, as he would have naturally eaten half of everything in there, and the other half if times were tough. This was something special. One tradition they began was to have the lion walk across the courtyard in front of everyone at the beginning of every day. The humans were not yet awake, so they would not see how strange and out of character this was. It was a vain and pointless ceremony, but they did it, because again, there wasn’t much else. During one such of these walks, the turkey made a rude comment about him under his breath. He was tired of being ruled by the lion, and didn’t think it was fair. The lion heard what he had said, and turned to face his detractor. The prey close enough to hear it spread word to the others, and everyone guessed that the turkey would be eaten for his insolence. The predators snickered, for most of them guessed the lion wouldn’t even bother with the turkey. He was a silly little creature, and surely not worth the lion’s time. But they were all wrong. The lion stared at the turkey for what seemed like ages. Then he placed a paw on his shoulder, and ushered him away from the crowd. “Come, my friend,” the lion said. “We should discuss your grievances. What good am I as a leader if I do not listen to those I lead? If something should be changed, we will change it.”

This story was inspired by, and revised from, an Aesop Fable called The Lion and an Ass.

Microstory 1282: The Werewolf and the Wife

< > Table of Contents

In those early days of misunderstanding, a young werewolf pup became separated from his family, and his pack. He had to grow up in the woods alone, having long forgotten where he came from, and not knowing if there were others like him. He could turn himself into a boy, sure, but he lived like an animal. Over time and with no family, this wild side of him took over, and there seemed to be no hope that he could ever live amongst others, of any kind. The regular wolves could tell that he was different, and they wanted no part of him. Years later, he was taken in by a family, and raised there with their teenage daughter. “He will only hurt you,” their neighbors would say. “It is in his nature, for he is clearly much more wolf than he is man.” But the family did not listen, and they decided to help him learn to be part of something larger than himself. While they were all there for him, the daughter was largely responsible for teaching him how to be a civilized human. The werewolf grew further, and got himself an education. He held onto his studies, and eventually made his way into academia, where he became a professor of Werewolf Sociology at a prestigious university. He married the family’s daughter, and she continued to help make sure that he did not forget his manners. This was a far cry from the naked animal-boy he was before.

This story was inspired by, and revised from, an Aesop Fable called The Cat-Maiden.

Microstory 1277: The Hikers and the Wallet

< > Table of Contents

Two hikers were walking along the mountain path when one of them spotted something underneath his feet. It looked like a dark leaf, but when he decided to dig it up, he discovered that it was a wallet. It was wet and muddy on the inside, which suggested that it had fallen from its owner’s person sometime yesterday, for it had rained last night, but was perfectly clear today. When he opened it up, he found a punch card for a restaurant two states away, an insurance card that was turned totally illegible by the rain, and a couple hundred dollars. “Look what we’ve found,” said the one hiker. “I’ll split the money with you.”

“No,” the other replied. “We should find a way to return it to its owner.”

“That should be impossible,” the first hiker said. “There is no identification of any kind here.” He looked down the mountain. “The rain must have washed it away.”

“Either way, I’m not sure we should keep it. We’ll find the nearest ranger’s station, and see if anyone’s reported it missing.”

Just then, they saw a group of hikers climbing down the mountain towards them. A forest ranger was accompanying them. “I remember you from the campsite the other day. Did you steal my wallet?” asked one of the strangers.

“I did not,” the first hiker said.

“Why, I see it right in your hand!” the wallet’s owner cried.

“We found it here in the mud,” the second hiker explained. He took it from his friend, and handed it back to its rightful owner. “How fortunate that you returned here. Your ID must have fallen out, so we would never have known where to return it.”

“Yeah, okay,” said the wallet owner. He was a bit reluctant, but appeared to believe them. Their explanation was only logical, for if they had stolen it on purpose, they would have surely kept it hidden so as not to be caught.

This story was inspired by, and revised from, an Aesop Fable called The Travelers and the Purse.

Microstory 1269: The Tortoise and the Rabbit

< > Table of Contents

A rabbit was bragging to a tortoise about how much faster he could run. He kept goading the tortoise, and challenging him to a race. The tortoise was wise, and he understood his own limits, so he kept refusing. But the rabbit did not let go of this. He had already beaten all of the other animals in the forest in races, and the tortoise was the only one left. He knew he could beat him too, but he desperately wanted to prove it, so there could be no question. He also wanted to see the look on the tortoise’s face after he ran all the way to the finish line, and then ran back to mock him further. Finally, the tortoise agreed to the race, and of course, he lost. He barely made five steps before the rabbit came running back to laugh at him. Some of the animals laughed at him too for trying, even though they too had lost to the rabbit. The tortoise merely walked off, and carried about his life, not even bothering to reach the finish line. Meanwhile, the rabbit tried to move on as well, but he couldn’t. He was still stuck in the glory days. Now that he had become fastest in the forest, there was no more to accomplish, and it hadn’t really gotten him anywhere. The tortoise ended up living forty times longer than the rabbit, but even so, his life also ended in death. All the other animals who had tried to race the rabbit died as well. No one remembered them, nor cared who was the most skillful. Over the years, more rabbits raced more tortoises, and it always ended the same.

This story was inspired by, and revised from, an Aesop Fable called The Hare and the Tortoise.