Microstory 2402: Castledome

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I had the rare opportunity to visit Castledome. For those of you not in the know, this was the first dome ever built on the surface of this planet. They’re not even sure if the original colonist was intending to build more domes at the time, or if he just needed a breathable place to live. This is where the leadership and other sentient staff members of the whole planet live and work. Obviously, there’s a castle, but that’s not all. They’ve built up a whole village in the surrounding areas, giving it the real feel of a medieval settlement. Everything on the outside looks really archaic and simplistic. I’m not sure if the old-timey machines are functional, like the water mill, or the wagons that I see strewn about, but I’m sure they are. I didn’t spend a whole lot of time outside, or inside, for that matter. I was only granted a one night stay in one of the towers as a sort of treat. To be fair, this planet is still in its early stages. They’re still testing a lot of these hotspots, so I’m sure more people will have the chance to do what I did. It was interesting to be in all that stone architecture. I’m fairly young, so I just don’t have any experience with that sort of thing. But don’t fret, it wasn’t all rustic. They still have computers and a network connection. The bed might have looked old, but the mattress was still really comfortable, and came with all the adjustable settings and smart sensors. I was hoping to get a chance to meet the planet’s owner, but he was just too busy. I can imagine that running this place is not easy, even though he has a full staff of dedicated personnel. This may change in the future, but there aren’t any activities or adventures in this particular dome. It’s just for living and exploring, and again, it’s not available to everyone since that’s where all the people work. Check it out if you can, but don’t get your hopes up.

The Advancement of Mateo Matic: May 16, 2398

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Ramses quit his job, having come to the conclusion that the extra income was not worth keeping. He hated it, and truthfully, probably wouldn’t have been able to steal very much before getting caught, and then that would just paint a target on their backs anyway. Fortunately, it isn’t customary to give notice in this country in this reality. He just told his boss it was over, and hung up the phone. Looking back, it was a bit of a silly plan, and he’s glad to be free to do things like this. He’s taking Leona out to the site of The Constant. It took Heath days to make contact with the rest of the team, but now they’re all caught up. Leona is nervous, but she’s coming anyway, because she knows more about time travel, and has to inspect the scene herself. She’s fairly confident that Mateo is alive. No, Heath didn’t look all over the facility to find him, but he probably looked enough. Mateo has a habit of surviving, even if he has to die first. There’s no reason to believe that this time will be any different. Still, Leona’s husband just disappeared. She can’t not go, and just wait for him in Kansas City.

That’s what Angela and Marie are doing, as the second reason that they’re just staying in the area. The number one reason, though, is that they still have to go through with the plan to have the former be able to successfully pretend to be the latter. Even if it never comes up in regards to the abortion, it’s a handy secret weapon to keep in their arsenal for any future use, and the logical thing to do. Not many people would be able to get away with it; not in this time period, anyway.

“We’re here,” Ramses announces.

“This is where The Olimpia is hidden,” Leona complains. “I wanna go to the Constant.”

“Heath sent us a text message while you were asleep. He wants to meet here.”

“Why?”

“He didn’t say.” Ramses drives into the shallow ditch, and up into the treeline, where he parks behind the Olimpia.

Heath is waiting for them outside, hands stuffed into the pockets of his jacket.

“What’s wrong?” Leona asks him after getting out.

“I don’t think there’s anything wrong,” Heath begins. “But first of all, I want to apologize for the part that I played in—”

“Get on with it, what’s wrong?” Leona interrupts.

“Okay, so...when the thing that happened happened, Mateo saved my life by pushing me out of the hole. I fell backwards, and hit a rock, suffering a latent concussion. I managed to get all the way down to—”

“I know all this,” Leona interrupts again. “Move on.”

“Okay, well, the concussion caught up to me, and I passed out. I woke up in the med bay.”

“How did you get to the med bay?” she asks.

“A nice family of four orphaned children found the hole before I had the chance to cover it up better, and treated me. That’s why it took me so long to contact you. I was out for quite awhile.”

“Four orphaned children,” she echoes. “Where are they now?”

“They’re still down there,” Heath explains. “They’ve sort of...laid claim to it. It’s not completely ridiculous, because they own the land. Well, they own the land over most of the facility. The entrance, they believe, is on public land, because it’s so close to the road.”

“Are they not letting us down there?” Leona presses.

“No, they’re happy to host us, but they’ve decided that they are the hosts, and we are the visitors. They’re hoping to sell tickets to rich people who fear World War VII.”

“That’s not an option,” Ramses decides.

“I told them as much. They’re...willing to negotiate.”

“I don’t have time to deal with this right now,” Leona says. “I need to be there, and not be here. Let’s go.”

“Okay, I just wanted to warn you that things are complicated. They’re not going public until we tell them it’s okay, though, so don’t worry about that. Or, they won’t go public at all, I guess. They’re not going to advertise—”

“Let’s go!” she repeats, walking past him, and heading for her destination.

When they get down the elevator, preliminary negotiations begin. Ramses tries to explain to the eldest sister that the bunker was built long before the land above it was in their family’s name. When the girl argues that it’s been in the family for centuries, he tries to clarify that it’s far older than that, but she has a hard time believing it, because the technology down here is even more advanced than the rest of the world nowadays. In the middle of the argument, he introduces himself, and she returns in kind.

Leona wasn’t paying any attention, but she perks up now. “Alyssa? McIver?” She didn’t even have to hear a last name to make the connection. She’s just used to meeting people from her future, so a first name is often enough to spark an associated memory.

“Yeah. Do you know me? He acted like he knew me too.”

“Yes, but I won’t explain it unless you sign over the rights to a small plot of your land, plus everything lower than three kilometers under all of your land.”

Alyssa crosses her arms. “Whatever, I’m not stupid. This is the only thing we own that’s worth any money. You think I’m gonna let you keep it?”

“We don’t want money for the bunker. We just have to keep it a secret,” Leona tells her. “You see what this place is like. It’s much, much older than my friend here has even told you. It’s so old, no one owned this land. No one was living anywhere near here. No human was alive at all.” She looks around at the walls. “Except for the ones who built it, but they were just there to supervise the robots. That’s a taste of the explanation; the tip of the iceberg. You want the whole story, you sell us the above land for at least double the fair price, and you don’t tell a soul about it. You don’t utter a single. Damn. Syllable.”

Alyssa’s interest has been right piqued, but she still isn’t sure.

Leona throws in a bonus. “You can live down here, if you want, and use whatever technology you find that we don’t take out for our own purposes, or to protect you. Again, you can’t tell anyone, but it’s yours. Have you found the swimming pools?”

“Pools?” one of the young boys asks, emphasizing the last letter of the word.

Alyssa wants to counter, but looks like she’s worried about losing everything if she doesn’t accept what’s been offered. “Okay, deal.”

The six of the presently able-bodied people begin to clean up the mess from the explosion. Not only does it have to be done regardless, but they want to be absolutely sure that Mateo’s body isn’t lying in there somewhere. Ramses breaks up the rock with a sledgehammer. Alyssa and the boys collect the pieces, and the youngest girl operates an automated vacuum for the rest. They get it done in a day.

Microstory 1887: Feeling Poverty

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Even though I grew up as the son of general store owners, I always felt poor. I think it mostly had to do with the fact that we couldn’t afford the time it would take to enjoy luxuries, like vacations, because someone always had to be at the store. When mom and dad both retired, I took over fulltime, and tried to put my snazzy business degree to good use. We expanded into the empty unit next door to add more shelves, but I never thought to franchise out, or do major advertising campaigns, or anything like that. I just wanted us to be a little more comfortable, and work a little less. I ended up hiring a larger staff than we ever had before, and spent less time there personally. My children weren’t interested in helping out after serving their part time sentences as middle school and high school students, and I didn’t discourage them from pursuing their respective dreams. I ran a clean business. I filed my taxes accurately and on time—or rather I paid the right person to handle it all for me—and I treated my employees fairly. I also kept my prices fairly low; not enough to dry out my profits, but enough to support my community faithfully. Back in the late 1990s, this country suffered a terrible economic depression. Inflation was at an all time high, as was unemployment. Everyone was struggling, including us. But we did okay. I didn’t have to let anyone go, I just had to raise my prices a tiny bit. For some, that tiny bit was as vast as a canyon, and for the very worst off, an untraversable one. People starved to death. My heart went out to them, but I had to protect my own family. Still, I did what I could, instituting promotions where possible, usually when a particular item was in higher than normal supply. Even then, not everyone could afford to buy what they needed to survive.

We had a couple of security cameras by then, but they weren’t exactly HD quality. There were likely a number of instances of theft that went by unnoticed. A box of cereal here, a can of soda there. It happens, and anyone who runs retail just sort of has to accept the risk. One day, during this depression, I was stocking an aisle with canned food when I noticed a misplaced item. People do this all the time when they change their minds, you’ve seen it. All I had to do was hop over to the next aisle over, and reshelve it. I incidentally did this quite quietly, and happened to catch a young woman sticking baby formula inside her stroller, right under her baby’s legs. At that moment, we locked eyes, and she froze like a stunned animal. I recognized her as a regular, and I’m pretty sure she knew that I was the owner, and not just some minimum wage worker. All of those were on the younger side of the spectrum. I didn’t know what to say as we stared at each other, so I ended up not saying anything. I cleared my throat, shelved the item in its place, and walked away. I don’t know what was going through her head, but she probably had her own internal debate about what to do. In the end, she left with what she needed, and only actually paid for a carton of milk. Years later, she returned to my store in tears. I had seen her many times since the incident, and we never spoke of it, so I’m not sure what had changed, but she wanted to apologize. She wasn’t the real mother. She was actually the sister, and their mother had died, which was why she wasn’t producing breast milk. I told her it didn’t matter. The kid needed food, the kid got food; end of story, no apology necessary. I wasn’t able to help much during the depression, but I was able to help this one person on that one day. I guess it will have to do.

Microstory 1868: Walking Out

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It’s funny, all these stories coming out recently about employees walking out of their places of employment, not on strike, but genuinely quitting their jobs. In my day, I only know of that happening once. Most of the time, we’re talking about people who were brave enough to fight for their rights, but once they won, they expected to have their jobs waiting for them. That was the bluff, and sometimes it worked, while other times, not so much. Here, these kids are realizing that these jobs aren’t worth the heartache. They don’t pay enough, and there is plenty of competition. I actually witnessed one of them long ago. But since it was before camera phones and social media, most people didn’t hear about it unless they subscribed to the local paper, and found this particular story interesting enough to read. Let me set the scene. It was 14:00, which was when a certain unnamed popular restaurant opened. It was packed immediately, because it was the weekend, and the dinner rush was pretty much all day, especially since they didn’t do breakfast or lunch. So every table was filled, but no one had been served yet. It was the only time of day this was the case, but it happened at this place twice a week, every week. I say all this, because you have to understand that it didn’t really matter if you thought you ought to be served first. The waiters got to you when they got to you, and if you chose to arrive right when the doors opened, you had better been prepared to make a day of it. So I was sitting there with my friend at a table for four when the manager came up and asked if we would be willing to share with a couple. Sure, of course, we had no problem with that. But he was acting weird, and even when we agreed, his demeanor didn’t change. Something else was wrong, and this interaction had little to do with it.

So we continued to wait. Twenty minutes passed, we were getting to know our new friends, when one of them noted that no one had been helped at all. She hadn’t seen a single waiter come out, even to take a drink order. We had only seen the manager. Again, this was how it worked. At 14:00, you walked in, and found a table on your own. They didn’t start tracking who sat where until later. Another five minutes, and others were seemingly noticing the same thing. No one was upset, because only a few tables would have been first anyway, but it was still weird, and we were all getting worried. Five more minutes, that manager returned. He asked my friend if he could borrow his chair for a minute. Being the agreeable guy that he was, he hopped up, and stood by the table to wait, which he soon realized was a mistake. Because the manager didn’t take the chair away. He pulled it out a little more, and stood on top of it to give his speech, which kind of made it look like my friend was his lieutenant, or something. It would have been weirder if he had tried to step away. Anyway, the manager revealed himself to actually be the owner. “I’m sorry, folks, but we won’t be serving you today. Every single one of my employees has walked out on me.” He kept going, but didn’t get much further before a waitress ran out, and started arguing with him. They weren’t walking out on him, they were protesting unfair wages, and poor working conditions. I was close enough to hear her whisper that they were planning to sneak out the back, but now, because of his words, they would march out through the dining area. Silence reigned as they began, but I felt for them, so I began to clap, and soon...the whole room was doing the same.