Showing posts with label penthouse. Show all posts
Showing posts with label penthouse. Show all posts

Saturday, February 8, 2025

The Third Rail: Rocked Back on One’s Heels (Part III)

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Today is the day. It’s the final episode of the Rock Meetings. Once it’s over, the rest of the universe will be up-to-date on everything that happened to the reality representatives months ago. It’s been a frustrating experience, having to stay on a prison planet this whole time, but they’ve not been alone. Not only did a few of them forge new bonds with each other, across the proverbial aisle, but the whole group has stuck together. They’ve formed a support structure which will solidify their positive diplomatic relations moving forward, even more than the official discussions on the Vellani Ambassador ever could. There, they were coming at it from a sense of antagonism. Here, they’ve been free to be themselves, and just regular people. Cosette and Nuadu’s relationship has blossomed, as have Ayata’s with Andrei Orlov. No one’s getting married anytime soon, but things are going well. There’s a lingering question of how these relationships will hold up once they’re back where they belong. They’re literally from two different worlds. Will society allow them to be happy?
They’re all in one room now, in Andrei’s penthouse, just because it happens to be on top of the central tower of the building. If they need to meet at all, the typically choose here, and mostly only for this reason. This time, it’s for a watch party. It surprises them that it’s the finale, since the discussions were technically over in the last episode. The only part that the broadcast hasn’t shown yet are their goodbyes to each other. It was the whole thing. Everyone on that ship was required to shake hands with, or hug, everyone else. Which one a pair chose was at their discretion, but they had to do something to express cordiality and gratitude. Something along these lines had to be uttered as well, like thank you, or I respect your position. This finalization ceremony involved not only the handful of delegates with stake in the matter, but also the other related representatives, the crew of the host ship, and the mediators. It added up to 24 people in total, which resulted in 276 farewells. This alone would have made for a boring final episode, so that’s not all that’s happening on screen. While the farewells are going on in the background, final thoughts from the reps have been sprinkled in, through a mix of off-screen narration, and testimonial footage.
As the seek bar marker inches closer and closer to the end, it becomes apparent that Cosette’s words will be the ones to conclude the series. Ellie Underhill says one last bit about how happy she is to share her universe with the residents of the Sixth Key, and then the video transitions to Cosette sitting in the booth. The farewells are over, and it’s just her, smiling regally at the camera. The Cosette from the present day who is watching the playback doesn’t even recall what she is about to say here. “I think what we learned from these discussions is, not that we all have competing interests, but that our interests actually align. While each delegate came here to represent the interests of their own people, I believe we all realized that there is really no such thing. Each former reality was made up of a collection of individuals within communities within subcultures within larger cultures within worlds. No one has the right, nor the fundamental ability, to advocate on the behalf of everyone they care about, and only them. The only way to get anything done is to make the determination that all peoples deserve happiness and prosperity. When you only value what you have in comparison, or from the loss, of what others have, you end up with nothing of use, because you’ve lost the importance of working towards the greater good. There is nothing greater than all-inclusivity.
“I’ve heard a lot of people, in Delegation Hall, and from the public responses, saying that we’ve made progress, or sometimes that we’ve not made enough. But the truth is that the latter is closer to the truth, because we’ve not truly done anything yet. The true test will be in the implementation of our ideas, and the consequences that come from the social changes that we envision. It’s easy to talk about our ideals from a round table, and through interactive polls, but far more difficult to put in the work day in and day out. This is going to take time, and it’s an ongoing process, which will require tweaks, revisions, and a changing of the guard. I, for one, am excited about what comes next, but I’m not ready to call us a success. Maybe I never will.”
No one has ever heard these words before, except whoever was involved in the editing. As the cast and credits for this reality show roll, the delegates nod at Cosette. Nuadu pats her on the back. She doesn’t think that it’s that big of a deal In hindsight, she would have rather been given time to craft a more succinct answer to the Magnolia’s last question, but what’s done is done, and now it’s all done, and they can finally go home. Something else is happening, though. After the playback chevron marker reaches the far right end, it begins to spin. At first, it stays in place, rotating forwards, but then it begins to rotate backwards while moving back to the beginning of the seek bar. This is usually the graphic that runs when autoplay is on, and there’s another episode. But this shouldn’t be this case, as this is the finale. Or is it?
The Magical Memory Magnolia Tree that has taken the form of a man named Tamerlane Pryce appears on screen. He was part of the discussions, and responsible for recording and broadcasting them to the public, but he didn’t make very many appearances in the show. He wasn’t too involved in the negotiations either, since he considered himself an interested third party, and the supervisor. This must be some kind of bonus clip. It’s only a couple of minutes long. “That concludes season one of The Rock Talks. And now I present to you a sneak peak...of season two.”
“What the shit?” General Medley of the Seventh Stage exclaims.
A trailer for the second season begins to play, with the Magnolia as the narrator. “On a world...built for criminals and protected witnesses, a group of nine diplomats will find themselves trapped together in a prison of their own making. To protect the cosmos from a temporal paradox, they’ll sacrifice their normal daily lives as civilization moves on without them. They’ll have to learn to live together in paradise, unable to leave, but given all the tools they’ll need to live safely and insulated from outside influence while the greater population fights to protect their future from decisions made by the delegates in the past.”
This is all intercut with b-roll—including shots of the various worlds now crammed together in this half of the new universe—and quick out-of-context bits of dialogue. “I know how to raise an army,” Ingrid Alvarado of the Fifth Division says.
“You don’t know a damn thing,” General Medley says, making it look like he’s responding to Ingrid, even though those two comments were made weeks apart, and not even in each other’s company.
“I think I might possibly, in at least some ways, be falling for you,” Cosette says. While Nuadu’s back is to the camera, viewers can probably guess who she’s talking to.
More completely unfair, and highly edited, remarks are put on display for people to make assumptions about before the tree comes back. “Drama... Intrigue... Romance. Nothing will ever be the same. Season Two of The Rock Talks, coming September of 2449, only on MagnoliaTV.” The last thing is a live shot of the delegates. They’re all staring at the screen in shock. Andrei’s second-in-command, Selma Eriksen lifts her hand up, and begins to wave it around to make sure that—yep, this is definitely live.
Cosette stands up, and points to the invisible camera hidden somewhere by the screen. “Turn it off, now. End the feed.”
Maybe as a coincidence, or maybe out of obedience, the trailer ends, and the screen goes black. Ayata grabs the remote, and escapes from fullscreen. Comments from other viewers are flooding in. Everyone wants to know what’s going on, and whether this was planned, and if the subjects of this docuseries consented to more scrutiny. They did not. Cosette certainly doesn’t need her experiences on Hockstep to be broadcast for everyone to see. It is an invasion of privacy. They were all very personal, and she had no idea that she was being recorded. No one is above the law, not even a magical tree.
Cosette steps away from the group, and begins to talk into the aether. “I demand immediate audience with the Memory Magnolia. We need to talk about this season two bullshit right this instant.” She waits, but there’s no response. They don’t know if he’s listening to them right now, but probably. There’s a chance that he severed the connection, or it could be that he only turned it off for the nine of them. The rest of the universe could still be seeing all this happen in realtime for all they know. That’s why it’s such a violation. They have the right to know when they’re being watched, and when they’re safe and alone. Everyone has that right. It’s inalienable. “Answer me. Right now!” she insists.
No one else is trying the help, not because they’re apathetic to the situation, but because they trust her to handle it for them. The tree is mysterious and powerful. If he doesn’t want to respond, he’s not gonna respond, no matter how many people express their outrage at this travesty. Cosette continues to speak out, but nothing is happening.
“Maybe we should go to your pocket dimension?” Andrei suggests. He has spent a lot of time in Cosette and Ayata’s penthouse, in order to get to know the latter. “Do you think we’re safer there?”
“It’s not a bad guess,” Cosette replies, “but it’s probably pointless. I bet he can see us anywhere. He lives in another dimension himself. And he’s...a sentient tree. How do we argue with that? How do we fight it?”
“You don’t,” comes a voice from the entrance. It’s the Magnolia’s cohort, Princess Honeypea. “You also don’t need too.”
“Explain,” Cosette urges.
“That may have looked like the Pryce Tree, but it wasn’t him,” Princess Honeypea insisted. “We didn’t record you nine on this planet. It’s none of our business, and we wouldn’t dare risk the security of you, and everyone else living here. Another force is at play, and I promise to do everything in my power to get to the bottom of it.” She’s usually quite bubbly and delightful, but she’s very serious right now, and a bit unsettlingly stoic.
“What can we do?” Cosette asks. “How do we protect ourselves, and our pasts? Can we get this show cancelled?”
“At the moment, what you can all do is come with me,” Princess Honeypea offers. “Whoever is responsible for this, I assure you that they cannot reach you in the Garden Dimension. The tree will protect you.”
Cosette looks around the room to gauge everyone’s reactions. They don’t know what to make of this, but they seem to feel that Princess Honeypea’s idea is the only viable option. Cosette would have to agree. She looks back. “Okay, let’s go.”
They’re overwhelmed by technicolor lights, and spirited away to the Garden.

Saturday, February 1, 2025

The Third Rail: Rock the House (Part II)

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They have TV here. They’re able to watch the broadcast of their Rock Meetings, if they so choose. Each episode is about an hour long, and one episode streams per day. At this rate, they’re going to be stuck on this prison world for about eight months. Fortunately for the representatives of the five realities, they’re not in any of the prison facilities. It’s a big planet, and an entire small continent has been devoted to witness protection instead of incarceration. It’s a little odd, to protect people on the same planet as the people they may need to be protected from, but it’s not a completely wild idea. Back in the Third Rail, there was only one inhabited planet, so witness relocation programs always worked like this. In fact, witnesses were rarely ever moved outside of their respective countries. There are no boats here. Any prisoner who wanted to reach a witness would have to first break out of wherever they’re being kept, then build themselves a raft. It would take them months to make it across the ocean, assuming they didn’t get caught anywhere. On the other hand, if they have access to a spaceship, it probably doesn’t matter anymore whether they have to go to a different planet or not.
Some witnesses in the program are a little more dangerous than others, so the continent has been further broken up into cities. The representatives are in the most luxurious of them all, designed for VIPs, leaders under grave threat, and in hiding, and others who need a little more consideration. Ramses was right, the accommodations are pretty good here, but Cosette doesn’t regret insisting on bringing her personal pocket dimension with her. This is her home, and it’s where she feels the most comfortable. She has installed it over the door of one of the closets in her realspace penthouse. Ayata is the one living out there instead, serving as a gatekeeper for visitors or attackers, but otherwise taking a vacation from her duties as an assistant. That’s what she’s meant to be doing anyway. “Tea and seaweed crackers? It’s a local delicacy.”
They’re by the water, about 300 meters above the surface. Each tower sits on top of the base, which grants access to a dedicated elevator and emergency stairwell. Only the structure at the top contains living space. The towers are structurally connected to one another, but there is no passage between them. You would have to go down to the first floor, and walk across the lobby, to get to another tower. “Ayata, I brought you here so you could have a break, not so you could keep working for me,” Cosette tries to explain for the umpteenth time. I thought it was a pretty good excuse, since there’s always work to be done back on Earth, so we’re always so busy. There is no business to take care of for the time being. Just relax.”
“I don’t...like doing nothing,” Ayata admits.
“Have you ever tried it?”
“Not really.”
Cosette sighs. “Do you know where that seaweed comes from?”
“The ocean?” Ayata asks in a half-question, unsure if she’s taking the full meaning here, or not.
“That ocean right there.” Cosette points through the windows. They’re not exactly real windows. They are viewscreens which are showing what the real windows see from the penthouse. They would have to leave the pocket dimension to look through them for real. “Why don’t you synthesize a sexy bikini, go down there, and sun yourself on the beach? Maybe meet someone new.”
“Ambassador DuFour,” Ayata scolds.
“Not to breach sexual harassment policy, but I remember wishing that I had shown my body off more when I was your age.”
Ayata was born in the Sixth Key. She doesn’t know what the world was like before the Reconvergence. “You can be my age if you want,” she reminds her boss.
Cosette leans her head against the backrest, and tilts her chin to the side. “I think I’m done age-shifting. I deal with people from the Parallel and the Fourth Quadrant so much, and they cured aging ages ago. It’s just not really much of an advantage anymore. Maybe it never was.”
“So which age are you going to choose? This one?”
She’s presently expressing the mid- to late thirties, which is still a bit older than how Nuadu appears. “I think so. It’s a good middle ground. I’m old enough to be respected, but young enough to be accessible.”
“And you’re not unattractive,” Ayata says with a smile. “Not to breach sexual harassment policy.”
Cosette smiles back.
“This wouldn’t happen to do with a certain military man who lives next door, would it? The one who’s always coming over to do his rounds?”
“He’s checking the perimeter,” Cosette reasons. “He’s been trained to be a protector.”
“No, he’s been trained as a killer. Those are the kind of soldiers who rank up to high leadership positions. He only comes over to see you.”
Cosette scoffs quietly, and shakes her head.
“How about this? How about you age yourself to seventy or eighty, and ask him to stay for dinner. Cook him a real meal; not synthesized, and give the room some ambiance. If he’s responsive, and engaged in conversation, he’s interested in you as a person, not just for your looks.”
“Maybe he’ll just say no, and I won’t learn anything. It won’t even necessarily be because of my apparent age.”
“He can’t say no,” Ayata reasons. “You’re going to cook for him to say thank you for all he’s done. He’s on vacation, so he doesn’t have anything to do. If he comes up with an excuse, I guess that’s your answer.”
“I haven’t cooked in a long time,” Cosette reveals.
“Well, I’ll help you. I like doing things the old way sometimes. I’ll probably be in charge of ambiance too since your taste is a little...”
“Bland? Is that the word you’re looking for?”
“Hey, you said it.” There’s a ring at the elevator downstairs. They look over at the security monitor to see Nuadu waiting patiently in the lobby. Ayata smirks. “Heh, it’s kismet.”
“House, let ‘im up,” Cosette instructs. They continue to watch as the doors open, and let Nuadu inside. He rides up to the top, walks inside, and is about to knock on the closet door when it opens. “Nice to see you, Harbinger.”
“Ambassador-at-Large,” he replies cordially.
“Would you like to come in for some tea and seaweed crackers?” She’s suddenly struck with a sense of relief that she and Ayata stopped to talk about the crackers first, before diving into them. They still look all nice and untouched.
“I really shouldn’t stay too long,” Nuadu says apologetically. “I’m afraid I woke up too late this morning, and I’m a little behind schedule.”
This looks like a pretty good opening. “Well, perhaps you can return this evening for dinner? I’ve been looking for a good excuse to cook.”
“Yeah, that sounds great.” He says it with a bit too much enthusiasm, but he knows if he tries to backpedal now, the drastic shift in tone will only make him look even more eager. So he widens his eyes, freezes up, and waits for Cosette to continue the conversation instead.
“Great! No pressure, but think about what you like to eat, and text me a message later. Include your dietary restrictions, of course. Maybe within the hour?”
“I can do that, thanks.” He looks over at Ayata. “And will the lovely Miss Seegers be joining us?”
Ayata stammers a bit. “I have a date with the, uhh...God of the Sea...tonight.” She smiles awkwardly. “I’m going on a walk. My boss says I work too hard, and she’s making me take a break. Away from here.” Nice save.
Cosette hopes that her comment doesn’t make Nuadu uncomfortable. Perhaps he missed Ayata’s emphasis on the word I. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to,” she says to Ayata, under her breath, but obviously loud enough for everyone in the room to hear.
“I believe that you will enjoy the beach at night,” Nuadu adds. “There are some bioluminescent sea creatures that come out after dusk. I don’t know what they are, but Andrei Orlov of the Fourth Quadrant likes to watch them. Perhaps you could meet up with him.”
“Thanks, I’ll give him a call.” Ayata points over her own shoulder. “I gotta go into the other room now.” She points at Cosette. “Unless you need something first.”
“No, that will be all, Ayata. Thanks.”
Ayata nods reverently, then walks away.
Cosette waits until she’s gone before admitting, “I’ve been trying to get her to slow down for a while now. We just kind of had a tiff about it. She doesn’t really understand that she’s not here to work.”
“I get where she’s comin’ from,” Nuadu replies. “I’m still workin’.”
“But you know you don’t have to, right? The Tanadama installed automated sentries all over the place. You passed at least two of them on your way here from your tower.”
“I know, but I just kind of...like to see the people.”
Cosette nods. “Well, I’ll let you get back to it.” She points towards the door as if he’s just about to leave.
“Yeah, I’m gonna—” He motions to the side of him.
“Right, right. You always start in the...parlor.” Her voice softens in a gradient as the sentence goes on. She steps a little to the side so he can do his made up job.
He does what he needs to do, inside the pocket and out, and then he leaves to run a security sweep of the other towers. Or maybe he never does that, and he only ever comes here. Cosette has never asked any of the others about it, and they’ve not brought it up on their own. They don’t interact all that much. If they didn’t grow up accustomed to the isolation of self-sufficient living, the last week they’ve been here has given them the requisite experience. That was evidently a major issue in the Parallel and the Fifth Division. Avoiding congregating in large groups was easy in the former, and in some cases, vital to survival in the latter. As the more seasoned diplomat of them all, perhaps she ought to take it upon herself to make changes to that. They’re going to be here for so long, they should get to know each other better.
Night has fallen, and the hour of the date—or non-date—is quickly approaching. Cosette is putting the finishing touches on her decorations, which she decided to do in realspace, instead of her pocket dimension. She didn’t end up accepting help from Ayata, save for a few minor tasks, and some constructive criticism. If this was going to mean anything, it had to come from Cosette, or he may as well be on a date with Ayata. Was this a date? Would he say as much? She’s about to have her opportunity to gauge his feelings based on his reaction to all this. The mood lighting alone will be hard to ignore. There’s an elevator notification. He’s early, so she’s not quite ready. Instead of wasting more time on more matches, she uses one of the lit ones to light the rest, and it occurs to her that this is how she should have done it the entire time, and she’s kind of an idiot. How did people live like this in the past? She was going for a classic, rustic feel, but it has been a lot of work. Will he appreciate the retro look, or will he be super confused since his civilization has just about always had robots and spaceships. Oh my God, she’s thinking about this too much. Answer the door. Answer the door!
She races to the security panel. “Come on up!” She tries to hit the elevator button, but she fumbles. Then she fumbles again. “Goddammit.” She finally hits her target, then taps the intercom button again. “Okay, now! Sorry.” As she’s watching the graphic of the elevator fly upwards, she remembers that Ayata suggested she look like an elderly woman to see if he’s here for her, or for her looks. Now she’s not so sure if she wants to go through with that. He’s almost here, she has to make a decision. Will it just throw him off? Will it be too distracting? Her age-shifting is a choice, she’ll look like an asshole if she’s all wrinkly and gross. He’s getting closer. She’ll have no excuse, or will she? Can she come up with some believable reason? Can she do it in the next five seconds? Four, three, two, one.
The elevator doors open, and Nuadu steps into the penthouse looking at a 55 or 56 year old woman. He’s shocked, but maybe not bothered? He looks her up and down. “Wow, you look gorgeous tonight.”
“Do you really think so?” Though she compromised on the aging, she’s not come up with a plausible explanation for not being thirty at the oldest. She ought to make herself look as hot as possible.
“Yeah, that dress is beautiful.”
“Thanks, it’s conventionally made, not synthesized.”
“I can tell. It doesn’t look...too ordered; cold. If that makes any sense.”
She smiles. “Come on in. Can I take your coat?”
“Yes, thank you.”
They have a nice dinner together. Though the food is not synthesized, as she promised it wouldn’t be, she didn’t exactly churn her own butter either. The penthouse came equipped with a number of advanced cooking tools and machines which her people never invented in the Third Rail. Though it’s certainly too early to say that the two of them are in love, it feels safe to acknowledge that it was indeed a date. The way he was looking at her, he’s definitely interested in something more. At one point, she gradually started aging herself up, and he didn’t bat an eye. After they were done eating, they retired to the sitting room for tea, at which point she caught her reflection in a decorative mirror, and asked whether he even noticed that she was 75 at this point. She explained that it happens on its own when she’s not being careful, and he told her that he didn’t care. There’s definitely something between them, they just need time to explore it. Luckily, they have eight months for that.

Sunday, September 24, 2023

The Advancement of Mateo Matic: April 23, 2414

Generated by Google Workspace Labs text-to-image AI software
Mateo was the one to donate his blood to Karla, so she could start skipping time, and remain on the same pattern as their daughter. This was intentionally a temporary fix, just in case she changed her mind later. It made sense on paper to stay this way forever, but she may decide that it would be best for her to always be waiting for little Romana to return to the timestream. She had about a week to decide, and if she still wasn’t sure, they could always give her a second dose of the temporary pattern-sharing serum, instead of the permanent one. Perhaps they would just keep doing it like that. Neither Cassidy nor Mateo had a problem with this eventuality.
She was a very special little baby. Generally speaking, the first time a person travels through time—and usually to a lesser degree for every subsequent trip—it’s a jarring experience. It can come with sometimes very nasty side effects, such as nausea, heartburn, indigestion, upset stomach, or diarrhea, among other possibilities. These symptoms can come on in the moments leading up to the jump, and last for minutes or hours afterwards. For Romana, she seemed to have no issue at all. As midnight central approached, she giggled, as if it were a pleasurable experience for her. It probably was. It wasn’t the first time she did it; just the first time after she was born. The truth was that it had happened to her about 270 times before this. It was part of who she was, in a deeper sense than most time travelers, including her own father. Meliora Rutherford, the daughter of this building’s namescape, was likely the only person with some understanding of what Romana’s is going through right now. They couldn’t wait until she was verbal.
It was April 23, 2414 on Dardius right now. The Dardieti toyed with their own calendar for a while before deciding to conform to that of Earth’s. A dying man was sent back in time about two millennia to let his final act alive be setting the flag of Dardius in the North Pole. His remains were discovered beside the now-buried remnants of that flag in recent days. His fusion-powered solar watch was still ticking, allowing them to accept the calendar as real. Of course, this was but a symbolic gesture. There was no real reason why they couldn’t simply deliberately have declared what year it was without technically starting at zero, but it made it a little easier to believe in.
Leona was sitting on the huge penthouse balcony, watching the sun rise. The arch that the Isaac Skybridge created was facing north and south, so the sun came up over Lincoln Tower, and set over Rutherford Tower. It was beautiful up here. There was no rule that LIR Towers had to be the tallest structure in the city, but it was. In fact, it remained the tallest one in the world. They were pretty lucky to live here now, and hopefully it would last. Leona being the cynic of the group, was not so convinced, but she wasn’t about to let that on to anyone else. It wasn’t helpful. So she was regarding the sky, and appreciating the time that they did have in this wondrous place. As she sat there, she started to feel a pull behind her. It was Ramses, calling to her from the Dante using their empathetic bond. She stood up, and teleported to the shuttle.
Ramses was in his laboratory pocket dimension, hunched over his table, studying something with his ocular loupes. “I’m hoping not to have disturbed you. It did not feel as if you were asleep.”
“I did not sleep,” Leona clarified. “None of us but Mateo did. Did you see the bed they designed for him and Karla?”
Ramses looks up from his work. “No? This sounds juicy.”
She laughed. “It’s a giant king-plus sized bed with a bassinet installed in the center, so co-parents can sleep on either side of the baby.”
He chuckled. “Cute.”
“I should say, I don’t think the concept was inspired by them. I believe it’s a normal product that anyone can order, but this one was custom-made as a gift from a friend of the family, or maybe just a fan.”
“Who knows, this planet is weird.”
“What are you working on there?”
“The rosary.” He lifted it up with a pair of tweezers. “I’ve been trying to get it to work. So far, I’ve been able to guess at its function, but not actually trigger its power.”
She looked upon it. “I forgot about this thing. It definitely works. I’ve seen it used. You, or someone who looks very much like you, used it at The Edge meeting. And someone who looked very much like you popped in and out of the timeline while I was gone to take things from the team.” It could be that the real version of him was never destined to use it. Ramses was in possession of it now, and Future!Leona will have it at some point later. It pretty much had to be in that order, because Ramses took it directly from Arcadia in another brane, but that was the extent of their understanding of the thing. It didn’t mean he would ever figure out how to operate it. “What does it do?”
“I think...it counteracts time.”
“In what way?”
“Well, you said that this other Ramses—maybe Future!Me, maybe always Future!Leona—would squeeze it and disappear. That sounds like your average time travel or teleportation. But if that’s the case, why is it so coveted? Why does it matter? Plenty of people can do that on their own, there’s no real reason for anyone else to want it, especially not Future!Leona. She can do a ton of things. My best guess is that when someone uses it, they separate themselves from whatever time is doing to them in that moment. If they’re moving forward in time at typical speed, maybe they move backwards, or maybe just slower. If true, it could be reapplied to other temporal manipulations, such as breaking out of a time bubble, or undoing illusions, like invisibility.”
Leona looked away to think. “Or time jump patterns.”
He nodded solemnly. “It could...cure us. That is, if you look at it as a disease, which I personally don’t. After all, I did this to myself on purpose.”
She nodded back, just as solemnly. “But it could cure Romana. She could be a normal little girl.”
“That’s not my call, and like I said, I can’t turn it on.” He stood up, and walked over to a locker. “But that’s not all I wanted to show you this morning. Unlike the rosary, Dante 2.0 is complete.”
“Two-point-oh?” Leona questioned.
He smiled as he took what looked like a parachute pack out, and held it open. “Well, come on and put it on.”
She narrowed her eyes at him.
“What, you don’t trust me?”
“Not as far as I can throw you.”
He shook the pack, and then started helping her arms through the straps. “We’re five hundred meters up in the air, my dear. You could throw me quite far.” He came around and closed the waist buckle and chest buckle for her. “Looks good on ya.
“A parachute’s not gonna fit in here.”
He laughed. “It’s not a parachute.” He turned around so they were facing the same direction, and shook his hands accordingly. “Left is open, right is closed. I’m working on a special function that happens when you pull them at the same time, but that’s not ready yet. For now, that will just do nothing.”
“You’ve still not yet said what either one of the other cords does.”
He smiled knowingly, and pulled the right cord for her. Everything around them started to collapse in on itself, and become sucked into the pack as it shrank. In seconds, the whole Dante was gone, and they were standing in the open air on the top of the Isaac Skybridge.
“Oh. That makes sense. It’s just like the Phoenix.”
“It was already designed to potentially be collapsed into an uninhabitable pocket dimension of its own. All I had to do was reprogram it to collapse into this thing, instead of the suitcase that the rest of the capital ship goes into. The only thing is, if this shuttle were ever to be reunited with the Phoenix, I’m not sure whether it would function correctly or safely. It may go ahead and fall into the suitcase along with everything else, or it’ll be vaporized.” He grimaced at the thought.
She shook her head. “We’re never getting the Phoenix back. The people from the afterlife simulation need it more than we ever could.”
Suddenly, guardsmen from both towers rushed onto the bridge, and pointed their weapons in strategic directions. “Is everything okay, sirs?” one of them asked. “Your shuttle disappeared!”
“Everything’s fine!” Leona assured them. I just...put it in my bag!”
They were still on high alert. “Are you quite certain? We can protect you from anything!” the leader from Rutherford Tower added.
“Really, it’s fine! We didn’t mean to alarm you. Um...” She switched to false bravado. “Return to your posts, please. I think I’m going to..take it out of the bag again!”
The guardsmen retreated into their respective towers, except for one. He was just a kid, surely no older than nineteen. He held his gun at the low ready position. He was trying to avoid eye contact like he was really trying to avoid being noticed.
“You may go, soldier!” Ramses encouraged.
“I was actually hoping to, um...see it?”
“From outside, or in?” Ramses asked him.
The young man thought about it. “Both!”
Leona removed the Dante pack, and handed it to Ramses. She approached the soldier. “What’s your name, son?”
“Mercari, sir. Officer Mercari. This is my first week.”
“Are you related to Andromeda Mercari?”
“Distantly, sir. I...I can’t remember the family tree.”
“You don’t have to call me sir. I’m just a person. Why don’t you set that gun down? I don’t like weapons.”
Officer Mercari switched the safety on, and set the rifle down against the wall.
“We’ll start out here. Go ahead and do it!” she called over to Ramses.

Sunday, September 17, 2023

The Advancement of Mateo Matic: April 22, 2413

Generated by Google Workspace Labs text-to-image AI software
Mateo and Leona stayed with Karla for the rest of the day, as did the rest of the family. For the last several generations, it was important to make sure that another womb-bearing child was born to the bloodline to maintain Mateo and Saffira’s child. Nothing inherent about this unprecedented situation prevented them from birthing only anatomical boys, so the family tree was quite large, and consisted mostly of men. In this case, Karla was an only child, but she could easily have been the only daughter of many. But this was not their only concern. It takes two to tango, and while partnership was generally a shared agreement, the Niemans occasionally had to take steps to avoid the premature end to the family lineage. Arranged marriage was a contentious term, but it was sometimes necessary in order to ensure the future of the baby. Though it would have been extremely unlikely for Karla to not be the one to ultimately birth Romana, there was a remote chance that she too would have to pass on the responsibility. To make that even possible, she needed a mate.
A young man by the name of Silenus Koolen was chosen to play this role. The two of them did not hate each other. By all accounts, they got along just fine, but there was no spark between them. There was no love. There was also very little pressure to make any sort of relationship work, because again, there was nearly no chance of their coupling being at all necessary. They never married, and did not have a child together, and now that Romana was here in the world, it was clearly no longer necessary. Still, he made one appearance to show his support for Karla, and reportedly continued to do so on a daily basis until the day of birth. This occurred at 12:01 central time, just after Mateo and the others returned to the timestream. The Matics were in the room where it happened, assisting with water, towels, and words of encouragement.
It was an extremely busy day, April 22, 2413. No one really knew exactly what was going to happen to Romana once she was born. Was Team Matic going to take her away? Would they never see her again for the rest of their lives? Everyone took their turns holding her, in case they would never get another chance. Traditionally, this was too much for one baby, and the doctors were not happy with this decision, but Neimans were a tough clan, and little Romana handled it with grace. But tomorrow, she will be monitored appropriately for the entire day. There was still so little they knew about her medical condition. What toll would daily time travel take on such a tiny, fragile body? In the meantime, the world government stepped in. They had spent the year remodeling the roof of the LIR Towers. It was built exclusively for Mateo and his people, but had undergone changes over the last two centuries. One of the towers was in full use, but the other stood empty, waiting for Mateo’s return.
The top floor of Lincoln Tower was still a penthouse, but was upgraded and kept up to date since the last time the Matics were here. The skybridge in between the towers was the biggest difference, having been adjusted to allow the docking of the Dante. Anyone in the penthouse could be evacuated in a matter of minutes, assuming they didn’t just teleport up there on their own. There were several units, depending on the viable size of Mateo’s team, a nursery for the young one, and other amenities. Below that, there was a restaurant, an indoor park and arboretum, and a library. These were all private, and for the center levels, there was pretty much nothing. Below that, however, was a military base, and a law enforcement station. There were other police and military buildings in the surrounding area. It was said that this was the most protected structure in the world, and that was probably true. Romana Saffira would be safe here, assuming that this was what the family wanted.
“So we’re moving to Darius permanently?” Angela asked. They were in the penthouse now, only a few hours before midnight, to get a look around at where they might live.
Leona scratched her chin. “Is there any reason why we shouldn’t?”
“I have to be wherever my daughter is,” Mateo declared. “I don’t want her to be raised without me, like the others were. So it’s up to Karla. Karla, I will go where you want to be.”
“This is a nice-ass place,” Karla admitted. “There’s even already a place for me to...sit down.” She just gave birth. They really shouldn’t have to worry about this right now, but she was the one who was going to be living here for an extended period of time. Everyone else would be gone.
Marie helped her get down to the couch, and spread out to a comfortable position. “I don’t see why we should leave. What else is there? The way I see it, we deal with one emergency call at a time, so if we receive another, we’ll have to put it off, because we’re still in the middle of this one.”
Leona laughed. “We’ll technically be in the middle of it for the next seven thousand realtime years.”
While Mateo believed that this was Karla’s decision, Dardius was the obvious best choice. Besides the tribulations and expiations on Tribulation Island, this world had been pretty good to them. Well, there was a war, but that was so long ago. This was only not the most peaceful planet they had been to when not accounting for its population. It was ten times better than Earth easily, and comparably advanced. It was clearly a great place to raise a child, yet that was no one else’s problem. “This is...this is a me thing,” he reiterated. “And a Karla thing. I love you guys, but really, if something else comes up, I don’t want you to stay just for me.”
“You’re my husband,” Leona insisted.
“You’re my best friend,” Ramses said for himself.
“You’re like a brother,” Angela said.
“Or a cousin, at worst,” Marie added, smirking.
“Hold on,” Olimpia began, “there’s not much left. “Boyfriend?” She was now speaking normally. They were never able to retrieve the Cassidy cuff that suppressed her power, but Dardieti scientists already had something for her. It didn’t stop her voice from echoing into the future, but it muted the sound, which was good enough for practical use.
Constance stepped forward. “And to me, you are like also a baby.” She patted him on the head. “There, there, you little dum-dum baby.”
Mateo smiled. “Okay. Are you okay with this...suddenly even bigger family?”
“Yes, yes, very good, thank you.” Karla immediately dozed off, one hand placed gently upon little Saffira’s chest, who was sleeping soundly in her bassinet.
There was a knock at the door. They all looked over to make sure it had not awoken mother and baby. The knock was tempered, suggesting that the knocker was cognizant and cautious. Still, Leona teleported over there to make sure it didn’t happen again. She opened it to find an old friend.
Saga Einarsson frowned at her kindly, and started to tear up. She reached out to hug her estranged friend. “I didn’t think I’d cry. I didn’t even promise myself I wouldn’t. It didn’t cross my mind.”
Leona was crying too. “I’ve missed you.” Now she could see that Vearden, Étude, and Cassidy were also in the antechamber. She started to cry even harder. These were the four owners of the entire planet. Well, Vearden didn’t technically own it, but he was a de facto co-owner, and the citizens treated him as such. The three true owners inherited it from Mateo, who wasn’t around enough to make much of a difference. They were apparently hands-on here, operating separately from the government, but working with it in the capitol building of Rutherford Tower, which was right next door. Vearden, on the other hand, was an elected official, serving as the current Mediator. He didn’t make the decisions, but he supervised the two who did.
Constance carefully carried Karla into the private hospital room down the hall that was designed specifically for her, while Olimpia wheeled Romana in with her. A nurse and a doctor were meant to be stationed here at all times, but there was evidently a mix-up in scheduling, so Constance took on the responsibility. She sure had the knowledge.
Meanwhile, the old friends reconnected with each other, and made introductions to the ones who had not yet met each other. Out of the four, Cassidy was the only official former member of Team Matic, but the other three were just as important. There was a lot of catching up to do until midnight hit in a few hours. “Please tell me you’re not here to report a problem,” Mateo said, feeling anxious about it now that the pleasantries were done, and the conversation was in a bit of a lull.
“We came here for two reasons,” Étude began.” She indicated the group before saying, “for this...and for this.” She pulled a half-full vial of red fluid from her pocket. It looked a little like blood, but if that was what it was, other things were mixed in with it to alter the color.
“That was once mine,” Cassidy said.
Mateo stared at the vial. “Oh.” Cassidy could absorb other people’s time powers, patterns, and afflictions. She was pursued by time travelers while under Mateo’s protection, but that didn’t always work out, and they never did figure out who specifically was behind all that.
“This is temporary,” Étude went on, “but we can make a concoction that is permanent. We have provided the Nieman family with counseling since they arrived on Dardius. One of these people has always been personal and private. Their conversations were just as privileged as one would expect out of a civilized society. The other reported back to us, and this was completely above board. The mothers consented to it, and they said whatever they wanted to this person, leaving out whatever they wanted to keep to themselves. Karla has gone through this as well, and based on their relatively limited interactions with her, it has become apparent to us that...” She trailed off to look back in the direction of the hospital room. “Karla will suffer from profound postpartum depression if that baby is taken from her. She has asked us to place her on your pattern to prevent this from happening. We can’t take blood from an infant for such a procedure. It would be illegal, unethical, and unnecessary. We are here to ask one of you to donate blood to finish the serum. Who’s up for it?”
All six of them held out their arms, and pulled their sleeves up, if necessary.

Thursday, May 25, 2023

The Advancement of Mateo Matic: March 22, 2399

Generated by Canva text-to-image AI software
Labhrás Delaney steps into the apartment behind Winona, and looks around with a frown on his face. It’s small, and it could do with some cleaning, but he’s lived in worse. He did not exactly grow up rich. That’s why he did what he used to do, because he had to. He’s trying to do better now, but he certainly wouldn’t say that he regrets his past transgressions. That’s not true; he literally said that he regrets everything, but he didn’t really mean it. He just knew that the only way he was ever going to get back to the surface of the planet was to tell these people what they wanted to hear. Luckily, lying is his specialty. He steps a little farther into the unit. “What’s this?”
“It’s your new place,” she tells him.
“I thought we were just stopping by to run an errand. You bought this for me?”
“Well, the government did; not me personally, and they rented it. Surprise!”
He shakes his head, looking at the mold on the wall, and incessant leaky faucet.
“Mateo taught me a phrase from his reality. He said that beggars can’t be choosers. This is what’s available. The government’s not going to spring for a penthouse apartment overlooking the water.”
“No, it’s not like that. I thought I would be living closer to my granddaughter.”
“She’s not your granddaughter yet, and I don’t think she thinks of you that way. And anyway, she lives in New York now, and I don’t think that she’ll be coming back anytime soon. There’s something there that cannot be moved.”
“Oh, you gave me access to the news down in the prison. I heard all about it. Which is why I was hoping that you would relocate me there.”
“That’s not a thing,” Winona says apologetically. “We don’t move people around. You began your rehabilitation in KC, because that’s where the person who was in charge of it—i.e. me—needed to be. We only relocate through the witness protection program.”
“I witnessed a murder,” Labhrás discloses.
“Are you talking about your own murder?”
“Would that not count? Hold on, I can think of another crime...”
“I’m sorry, Mister Delaney, but if you don’t want to go back to the black site, this place is your only option. You’ll also need to fulfill the requirements we spoke of. You need to check in regularly, stay sober, earn gainful employment by the end of April—”
“You don’t think this is going to last another month, do you?”
“What do you mean?”
“Word has spread, Miss Honeycutt. The world is ending.”
“Who did you overhear discussing that?” she questions.
“The guards never told me their names.”
“So it was a guard.”
“Don’t get anyone in trouble on my account.”
She sighs. “Leona is going to reveal herself to the Daltomists, and therefore the whole world, on Friday. The last thing she needs is a presumably dead future relative of hers showing up to make things even more complicated.”
He seems to get it now. He throws his knapsack onto the counter. “Thank you.”
“Try to find some joy here. This is the kind of second chance that no one else has ever received. I’ll come by to take you shopping tomorrow.”

Thursday, May 14, 2015

Microstory 59: The Elevator

I step in and push the button for the penthouse. Fortunately for me, the elevator is rather slow. I’m dreading having to go up to my boss. I’m just the latest in a long line of personal assistants that he mistreats. When the time comes, and I’ve finally reached my destination, the doors in front of me don’t open. I hear a sound behind me and watch as a second set of doors disappear to the side. I’ve been using these elevators for weeks, and I’ve not once noticed a second set of doors. No, that’s impossible. There was most definitely a painting there just a second ago. My curiosity gets the best of me, though. I timidly step out and look around. This version of the penthouse looks just the other one, but it’s much cleaner. My boss comes around the corner and greets me, giving me a small kiss on the cheek. His entire demeanor is different. He’s polite and lively. I’ve lucked out and stepped into an alternate reality. I decide to not ask questions, and just go along with it. We spend the rest of the morning together, eating breakfast and watching the parade from the balcony. After the last float goes by he smiles and pulls me away. He opens the door to a closet where I see a young woman tied up and crying. He hands me a knife. “You can go first this time.”