Showing posts with label pool. Show all posts
Showing posts with label pool. Show all posts

Friday, August 8, 2025

Microstory 2470: The Empyreamax

Generated by Google Flow text-to-video AI software, powered by Veo 3
Before virtual reality and volumetric immersion holograms, people used to watch media on 2-dimensional screens. I won’t get into the whole history of film—you can look it up your damn self—but suffice it to say that they were extremely tiny compared to what we have here. This is the Empyreamax. It is the largest film auditorium by orders of magnitude. You would have to project a movie on the moon to be larger than this. Towering 22.2 kilometers over the surface, this image covers an area of roughly 5,030 square kilometers. You can see it from anywhere, though of course, the center has the best seats in the “house”. Or should I say they have the best beds? Since you’re looking straight up, regular recliners just won’t do. You can adjust it to your liking, but they lay down completely flat, and let you look straight up at the movie. Obviously, they’re quite comfortable, with the standard firmness adjustments, heating, cooling, and vibrating features. If you’re an organic who still needs to eat, each bed comes with an interface that allows you to order concessions. If you’re not in one of the designated viewing loungers, you can request a mobile interface, and they’ll deliver to you wherever. There’s a Castlebourne-specific three-word address for wherever you happen to be. Actually, one little problem I noticed is that you can input any valid Castlebourne address, and they’ll try to get there, even if it’s on the other side of the planet in a different dome, so I hope they fix that dumb little bug. You can bring your own bed, or sprawl out on a blanket. There are several swimming pools and lakes that you can float on while you’re watching. One couple came in with an autotrampoline. They lay on their backs, and let the motor bounce them as they were watching. It sounds distracting to me, but who am I to judge? As far as sound goes, the options are limitless too. You can connect with your conductive implants, or your internal speakers, or your external headphones. They have ground speakers and pedestal speakers as well, but those are only allowed in certain areas. And that’s because some areas allow for regular conversation, and some are quiet zones. They provide you with an interactive map, so you can find out where you wanna be. While the ground is pretty flat here, they also have some hiking trails, so you can kind of keep an eye on the film while you’re walking with your honey, so that’s just a little thing that I’m not sure people would ever want, but it might as well be there. It’s not like we’re short on space. Again just about everything is up to you. They have a movie playing all the time on the big screen, but it’s not the only one going. They also have smaller screens lining nearly the entire perimeter. Each one is about 100 meters wide, and 40 meters tall, with a capacity of around 750 people. There are 1,699 of these, allowing for 1700 simultaneous shows in total. I’m not sure how many people could be here at any one time, for the big movie, or all of them combined, but I’m guessing it’s a pretty high number, even though we’re not vertical, on top of each other, like other domes. I know it’s old media, but there are some really great gems here. I saw one the other day called The Mystic, and it was basically the best movie musical I had ever watched. Even if you’re not interested in what’s playing, you can request a time slot for a specific title, and use one of the smaller Ultramaxes. One thing I’m not sure is right or not is that you can’t request a private auditorium. You can choose a movie, if there’s space available, but once it gets into the system, anyone can RSVP for a seat, so just bear that in mind.

Monday, July 28, 2025

Microstory 2461: 10,000 Emerald Pools

Generated by Google Flow text-to-video AI software, powered by Veo 3
This, to the best of my knowledge, is based on a song, which in turn, is based on a physical address from a city called Las Vegas, on Earth before the Great Rewilding of the 21st and 22nd centuries. From what I gather, the song is about love, but it’s open to your interpretation. Castlebourne’s interpretation is quite literal. There are actually 10,000 Emerald pools dotting the landscape on the surface under this dome. Though don’t expect to ever see all of them from above, or even a handful of them. That’s not how it works. This is classified as a Leisure Dome, but it’s also sort of Residential, because there’s no time limit. If you wanna stay in your pit for the rest of time, it doesn’t sound like anyone’s ever going to kick you out. This is a very personal experience, which the prospectus doesn’t go into, so there’s a chance that my review will be autorejected for revealing too much information about it, but this is what happened to me, so I feel like I have the right to detail it. When I first went in, they asked me the standard questions about what kind of person I am. How organic am I? Do I have a heart condition? Do I require electrical charge? That sort of stuff. They needed to know if I needed hygiene facilities, or a bed to sleep in. They also asked me some psychological questions, such as how my mood is, how easily it shifts, and how much human contact I feel like I need. It’s a personal journey. When I woke up in my hallway, I had to pass through a plasma barrier tailored specifically to my DNA. I would not have been able to bring anyone with me, nor break into anyone else’s domain. But more on that later. After the questions were done, they processed the data, and assigned a pool to me. They didn’t give me a name or number for it, nor tell me where in the dome I would be going. It could have been clear on the other side, right by the entrance, or somewhere near the center. I just don’t know, because they had me take a sedative before I was allowed to continue. Don’t think you can get around this if you have any cybernetic upgrades, or something. They also have technosedatives. That’s why they needed to know my substrate specifications. Like I said, I woke up in a hallway. On one end was a metal door that said EXIT. A sign underneath informed me that I could leave at any time, but I would never be allowed back into any of the pits. That’s right, it is a one time experience, full stop. I’ll never be able to go back. It’s kind of sad, but beautiful, really. As soon as I walked through the plasma barrier, I was stripped naked. They didn’t tell me that part either. But I was happy, because this was a special gift. I walked through the wooden door, and into my pit. Before me on the ground was exactly what I was promised: an emerald pool of water. Flush with the grass was concrete coping, and the pool itself was lined with smooth concrete. All around me were trees and open spaces, but nothing else. I waded in the water for about two hours before I even thought about exploring. I walked less than 400 meters, up the incline of the pit, before I ran into the ceiling. That’s right, the edge of the ceiling started at the edge of the rim of the pit. To visualize it, imagine a bowl with a clear lid fitted on the top of it. I walked all along the perimeter, sliding my hand along the ceiling above me. There was no escape. The only way out was the exit door on the other end of the original hallway. I went back to my emerald pool, and jumped in. I slept on the bottom of it that night, using my gills to breathe. I won’t tell you what I thought about while I was there, because as I’ve been saying, it was very personal, but I’ll say that it was rewarding. The next day, I reopened the wooden door, walked back down the hallway, though the plasma barrier, and left forever.

Saturday, June 14, 2025

The Seventh Stage: Rock and a Hard Place (Part III)

Generated by Google Gemini Pro text-to-video AI software, powered by Veo 3
Ezqava ‘Effigy’ Eodurus has had a storied past. Much of it, she prefers to forget. She was young and stupid at the time, and very vulnerable. She placed her trust in someone who turned out to be so much better than her, she never wants to feel that judged again. She truly doesn’t understand her own mind. She’s mischievous and unpredictable, and even sometimes violent. That’s why they locked her up on Earth, and now on this random remote penal colony. Colony isn’t the right word for it, though, since she lives here alone. It’s not too bad. She has a nice home with a pool. The weather is always tame, but she can see storms range in the distance, which is interesting. They’ve provided her with countless hours of entertainment, but no means of communication. She can see what’s going on all over the universe, but can have no effect on it. Unless someone comes to talk to her. Which they do, all the time, though less so in recent days. When she was trapped in her cage on Earth, no one visited her. Most people didn’t even know that she existed. Here, she’s so popular. Here, they value her knowledge. Sadly, they don’t value her as a person. It’s her fault, and she knows it, but it’s still been difficult.
It won’t always be like this. Effigy doesn’t have the power to see the future, but with all the data that she’s collected, she’s pretty confident in her predictions. Hers is not the only transcendent power in these lands. There are two others, and based on the trajectory of their dealings, it won’t be long before they meet. The only question then is whether she can convince them to join forces with her. In the past, she would attempt to gain allies through trickery and subterfuge. Her ability to shapeshift into any human form has always been too tempting to ignore, and too easy to abuse. Her usual methods won’t fly with Clavia and Echo. Not only will they see right through it, but they actually have the power to turn on her. The reason she was in a cage for centuries was because none of her combatants knew how to kill her. The Cloudbearer twins do not suffer the same shortcomings. They have more power than her, and it’s hard to tell how they’ll use it. They’re good...for now—if there even is such a thing as a good person. That doesn’t mean they won’t fight her. If she wants them to trust her, she has to be honest, good, and honestly good. That’s why she has spent the last several years helping leaders of this pocket universe. She’s been asking for favors in return, but only because that’s what they expect. If she did it for nothing, they would be suspicious of her.
Effigy has been trying to get better, but without an unbiased third party to assess her progress, she can’t know if it’s worked. Her self-improvement was driven by her desire to regain the power and freedom that she once had. Is this a paradox? Is it impossible to be worthy of the power that one seeks if they seek it? Is ambition inherently evil? More importantly, how will the god twins see it? Earlier, she planted the seed of her answer when an old friend came for a visit. Either she’s about to get a third visitor in one day, or her friend is back.
She watches as the personal pod streaks across the sky, and lands somewhere on the other side of the wall that keeps Effigy from seeing the ocean. She’s tried asking for a tower to have a better view of this world, but she’s never given anyone enough intel to warrant such a gift. She’s going to play it differently this time, not like she did before with Bariq. She’s going to be cool and composed, but genuine and professional. The door opens. Two women walk through. One is the friend, but the other is a stranger. “You have returned,” Effigy begins, “sooner than I expected.”
“The term sequence that you provided was right,” Tekla replies. “It took me to an evidently unused Nexus, which allowed me to travel to Origin, where I met an apparent god, who connected me with this one here.” She gestured towards the other woman.
“Hi, Francis Deering,” she says, offering her hand.
Effigy reaches out for it, then pulls back in horror. She forgot to shapeshift into the form of a human. She looks like her true self still...a white monster. “I’m terribly sorry. I didn’t mean for you to see me like this. I didn’t realize.” She takes a breath, and transforms herself into a woman she once knew by the name of Slipstream.
“It’s okay,” Francis assures her. “You don’t scare me.” Her skin begins to vibrate and ripple. Within seconds, she looks like a masculine version of herself, perhaps a twin brother, or something. She—or he—seems as surprised as Effigy and Tekla do. “Wow, that was much faster than it is where I’m from. Your world is interesting.”
Effigy smiles. “May I ask, what are your pronouns?”
“She/her when I’m in my female form, and he/him when I’m like this.  If you’re talking about me in a more general sense, and you’ve encountered me in both forms about evenly, you can use they/them.”
“Can you turn into anyone, or just this one guy?” Tekla asks him.
“I’m not turning into a different person,” Francis explains. “I’m both people. Nothing about who I am as a person changes when I’m in one form or the other. They call me a dimorph; both male and female. I can only have one reproductive system at a time, but my mind and personality maintain continuity.”
They nod.
“I can shift back, if you’re more comfortable...” Francis offers.
“No, it’s whatever you want,” Effigy assures him. “Is that why you chose him?” she asks Tekla. “Because he’s a shifter.”
“I explained the situation to the god, Senona Riggur, who suggested a therapist would be of some use to you. This is who they chose.”
“So, you’re from another universe?” Effigy asks Francis.
“Am I?” Francis volleys. “No clue. I just go where they tell me.”
“Well, I really appreciate you coming here, and I would appreciate more of your time. You see, I’ve traditionally not been so great of a person. As you saw, I’m not a person at all. I think that I’ve learned the error of my ways, but self-assessment can only get you so far.”
“You say you’re not a person. What do you mean by that?”
“Well, you saw. I’m not human.”
“Just because you’re not human doesn’t mean you’re not a person.”
“Do you know a lot of non-humans where you’re from? I mean, more intelligent beings than just dogs and cats.”
Francis smirks. “I know a few.” She takes a beat. “Let’s get into this. Is there somewhere we can talk?”
“Yeah. Tekla, do you need to get back to Judy before she gets suspicious?” Effigy asks, worried. Maybe she is better, worrying about others.
Tekla laughs. “You think I took the Nexus to a hostile unknown location without getting my boss’ permission first? She went with me. She was granted her own wish alongside mine. Don’t ask what it was, though.”
“I see. Tell her thank you. She’s always been more supportive and understanding with me than other people.”
“I will pass along the message. Until then...” Tekla starts to say, “I’ve never skinny-dipped before, but I hear that’s how it’s done in this pool.”
Now Effigy is the one to laugh. “You can if you want. I also have suits in the cabana. We’ll be in the solarium, if you don’t mind a little sun, Mr. Deering. The windows are rated high for UV shielding.”
“That sounds lovely,” Francis replies.
The two of them head to the other side of the house to discuss Effigy’s issues, and her self-doubts. In the spirit of my agreement with Dr. Hammer to stay out of the therapy sessions that she has with her own patients, I cannot relay what Francis and Effigy discussed in private. While Dr. Hammer did not technically ask me to maintain the privacy of all of my characters, I believe that she would prefer me to respect therapist-patient confidentiality across the board except for conversations which are integral to the plot. Suffice it to say, Francis’ wisdom was very helpful in Effigy’s quest to not only become a better person, but to understand what that truly means, and how to measure her own progress, as well as recognize her successes for what they are.
Effigy looks up to the sky again. “You’re in my head.”
Is she talking to me?
“Yes, Superintendent, I am talking to you. You are writing this story from an omniscient third-person perspective. You know everything that I’m thinking. The fact that you chose not to watch my therapy session is meaningless. You still know exactly what happened. You could always just pull it straight out of my thoughts.”
“Who are you talking to?” Francis asks. They’re currently strolling around—
“No, no, no,” Effigy interrupts me. “You’re not going to ignore my question by droning on and on about the minutiae of our current behavior, just to reach some arbitrary word count goal on this installment. There’s vivid imagery, and then there’s pointless and trivial details. We’re walking back to the other side of the house. There. Done. That’s all you need to say.”
I wasn’t ignoring your question. You didn’t ask one.
Effigy stops to think for a moment. As she does so, a beetle-like insectoid crawls along the leaf of a plant hanging from a pole on the side of the building. A spider-like creature is on the underside of this leaf, and the question is whether one will notice the other, both each other, or neither. No one is looking at these organisms, but it’s still happening. Things like this are happening all the time, all around you. If Effigy weren’t blinded by her frustration with me, she might have the capacity to take a moment to admire the beauty. She’s standing next to it right now, stewing. She’s choosing not to look over at the insectoids, knowing all too well that if I wanted her to look at them, she would goddamn look at them. For as powerful as she thinks she may be, she is nothing compared to the might of the author. I could erase her from the story with a few taps on my keyboard. She would never connect with Clavia and Echo. She would never realize her full potential. She would never really know if she became a better person, or if the leopard simply can’t change its spots. I already spent years not mentioning Effigy and her exploits at all, and I can do it again. I could do it forever if I like. Her past as the final boss in the Springfield Nine franchise may never have happened. I could erase that too if I wanted. And maybe I will.
I just did. Effigy who?

Saturday, June 7, 2025

The Seventh Stage: Piffy on a Rock Cake (Part II)

Generated by Google AI Studio text-to-video AI software, powered by Veo 3, with music by MusicFX text-to-audio AI software
Bariq walks briskly into the room, finally finding his co-parent standing there with one of her assistants, whispering about something or other. After they see him, they both smile, make one last exchange, then part ways. He walks farther in. “Where are they?” he demands to know.
“The kids?” Judy guesses. “I’m sure they’re just out partying with their friends.”
“I just ran into them in the hall,” Bariq counters. “They haven’t seen Clavia or Echo anywhere since they left the ceremony.”
“You saw all of their friends?” Judy questions.
“I saw enough,” he replies. “They don’t have many.”
“They have more than you think. Not all of them are from the Seventh Stage, you know. They have a lot in common with some of the students from the Third Rail.”
“Judy. The kids are missing.” Over the years, she’s become calmer and more trusting of their children. She’s allowed them to be young and dumb, and make mistakes. She teaches them right from wrong, but she has always seen them as preadolescent and adolescent humans. The reality is that they’re both unimaginably powerful superentities, and very dangerous. Bariq loves them, and cares for them, but he has not forgotten how they started out. They’re both far older than they appear, and he sometimes sees that in their eyes. They will seem normal one minute, bright-eyed and curious. Then the next, they’ll slip into this unsettling state of all-knowing indifference. He has been afraid of them growing up and getting their memories back this whole time. It’s put a strain on their relationship, and yes, he’s even worried that this strain will create a self-fulfilling prophecy that leads to the realization of his greatest fears. He can’t help it, though, because they really are dangerous, and it doesn’t seem prudent to ignore that.
“What do you want me to do?” Judy questions. “Sick a tracker on them?”
“I want you to take this seriously.”
“I do. They’re sixteen years old, they’re gonna run off and do stuff without permission.”
“They’re not sixteen, and stuff without our permission could be blowing up planets or smoking nebulas.”
“That is...quite the imagery,” Judy says, “and is completely unfounded. They’re good people. You should believe in them more.”
“So you’re not gonna help look for them.”
Judy sighs. “I have Rebecca for the year,” Judy explains. “I’m going to spend some time with her today. Maybe you should do something for yourself. How about that woman from the academy? She seemed into you.”
Bariq closes his eyes. “She’s a hundred years younger than me.”
Judy shrugs.
“You wouldn’t get it, you grew up with your soulmate.”
“And then I lost her.” When the main sequence version of Earth was copied into the Sixth Key, Judy was duplicated along with it. Her wife, however, Rebecca happened to be in the past at the time, because that was where she was working. When she returned to her present, the other Judy was waiting there to greet her. It took a while for them to even find out about the whole Reconvergence mess. Since then, they’ve established a unique relationship. Rebecca spends some of her time with main sequence Judy, and some of it with Seventh Stage Judy, like an odd joint custody sort of arrangement. It might be unusual, but it’s working for them. And the kids love Rebecca. They treat her like an aunt. Yeah, she’s technically more like a stepmother, but she can’t really discipline them since she’s gone half the time, so they ended up framing it differently.
“Then you got her back,” he reminds her.
Judy concedes the point. After a moment of silence, she thinks of something. “You know who you can go to if you’re looking for someone. And it’s not a tracker.”
Bariq is confused for a moment, but quickly gets over that. “We promised to never go back there.”
“We promise that all the time.”
He sighs. He has a feeling that something is wrong. Echo and Clavia aren’t just hanging out on a habitable moon, watching the gas giant that it’s orbiting dominate the sky. They’re somewhere, doing something. It might be good for all he knows, but it’s not innocuous. It’s not meaningless. He has to find them, and if that means talking to a certain dangerous prisoner, then he will. “Don’t tell Cedar.”
“I don’t talk to that guy anymore,” she says.
“All right. I love you.”
“Love you too.” They are the twins’ parents, but they aren’t married. They have never had any romantic feelings for each other. In fact, their relationship started out pretty rocky. They were chosen to negotiate together during The Rock meetings specifically because they didn’t always see eye to eye. That’s not how it was for every duo at those talks, but it wasn’t uncommon either. Over time, as they’ve tried to raise these kids together, their connection to each other has strengthened, and love is a decent enough word for it. She has Rebecca, and he has his consorts, but they always try to be on the same side, even when it’s hard.
He walks out of the room, and down the hall to their personal Nexus, which will take him indirectly to where he needs to go. While his target is a prison, she’s not in a typical locked facility. It’s too risky to leave her anywhere with people on a regular basis. She’s too charming and beautiful. She has a way of getting into people’s heads, which they take measures to combat with psychic wards. Because of the need for distance, if she needs anything, it’s up to her to provide it for herself, using whatever she can find where she’s being kept. That’s not a lot, but she doesn’t seem to need a lot, so it appears to be okay. And she’s gotten more over the years. Bariq would normally ask one of his kids to transport him there remotely, but since they’re the reason he’s deigning to go this time, that’s not an option. He takes the Nexus to the nearest space station, and then a personal pod the rest of the way. It’s slow, but that’s the point. If there were too many ways to get to the penal planet, there would be too many ways to get off of it, and that’s not an option.
The prisoner has extraordinary extrasensory perception, allowing her to know things without experiencing them, or being around. Even where she is, trapped and alone, she knows what’s going on everywhere else, even back in the original universe. That’s what makes her such a big threat, and why she can’t ever be allowed to leave. Unfortunately, she appears to be immortal, so keeping her in place might be an eternal responsibility. She has taken a particular interest in their family, as would be expected of someone in her position, driven partially by their repeated visits for information, and sadly, even advice. They’ve used this resource far more often than they morally should. It’s just too tempting. The issue is how much she likes it. She loves the attention, and it gives her a sense of power that she doesn’t deserve. Bariq prepares himself at the entrance. The walls are a hundred meters tall, and this is the only way in or out. It’s not guarded by anyone, but a satellite in geosynchronous orbit keeps constant watch over it. He holds his hand up, and motions for the AI to open the door for him, which it does.
He finds the prisoner in the courtyard of her home. Again, it’s not a normal prison. It’s actually a pretty nice place to live at this point. She even has a pool, which she is using right now. Without any clothes on. She knew that he was coming, so it’s not like she’s been caught off guard. “Oh my,” she says in total false modesty. “My king, you’ve arrived. I’m afraid I’m totally unprepared.” She speaks with a hint of an accent. Vaguely transatlantic, Judy once deemed it. The prisoner climbs the steps out, holding her arm and hand over her privates, but not doing a very good job of it. At the moment, she has given herself the appearance of Judy. Sick bastard.
“Take off that face, Effigy,” he demands. When the Reconvergence happened, and the main sequence was copied into the Sixth Key, most time travelers weren’t around. They were warned that it would happen, and given ways of protecting themselves, often by simply skipping over the moment entirely. Effigy was a prisoner in a different place on Earth, and had been for many centuries prior to all this. The theory is that whoever put her in there died, or completely forgot about her, so now there are two of her, just like everyone else there.
“Is this not pleasing to you?” She sounds innocent and naïve, but it’s all an act, just to screw with him.
“Go back to normal.” This is a loaded command, because her real form is an intimidating white monster. She’s literally not human. They call her a Maramon.
“Do you really mean that?” she asks.
“Yes.” Intimidating is a strong word when it comes to Bariq’s constitution. She doesn’t scare him, and her true appearance doesn’t change that.
“Very well.” She transforms. “How can I help you today, Your Majesty?”
He’s not going to once more argue the point about him not being a king. It’s exhausting, and there is no way to win. She could deny the existence of light if it served her agenda. Logic and reality were irrelevant concepts, as was perception. “You know where my kids are.” It’s not a question.
“I do.”
“Are they safe?”
She smiles. “They’re safer than you are.”
“What the hell does that mean?”
“It means that your greatest fears are coming to fruition. They are realizing how powerful they are, and they’re learning to exercise their independence.”
“What. Does. That. Mean?” he reiterates.
She waits a moment to respond. “If I’m going to help you, I need something in return.” She always does. That’s why she has this swimming pool, and a breadmaker. And an actual parachute made out of gold, which they only agreed to give her because it’s too heavy to fly.
“What is it this time?”
She looks around with a feigned frown. “Here I am, piffy on a rock cake. I’m nice and  sweet, and everyone loves me...but I’m so small. The rest of the cake is bland, and boring. It deserves more of me. It deserves more piffy.”
“Honestly, I have no idea what the fuck you’re talking about. What is a piffy?”
“Nobody knows.”
He lets out an exasperated sigh.
She mimics him. “General Bariq Medley, always so frustrated. If humans still had heart attacks, why you would have died centuries ago.”
“Get on with it, what do you actually want?”
“A mirror.”
“No,” he answers. He doesn’t know why exactly, but they have been told that she is not allowed to have mirrors. Sure, there is such a thing as a time mirror, which is a temporal object designed to view—or even access—other points in spacetime. But you can’t just turn any mirror into a time mirror. That’s mostly just what it looks like on the outside. There’s all sorts of technology and temporal magicks hidden in the guts. But in a world of time travelers, they can’t take any chances. She can presumably indeed give a regular mirror temporal properties.
“Oh, it’s just for my vanity. I have no one to talk to when you’re gone.” She exaggerates her frown, but a little too much. Her face is warped enough to throw her into the uncanny valley. Even white monsters don’t usually have this creepy of a face.
“So you’re going to talk to your own reflection?
“That’s my business.”
“Isn’t your reflection right there?” he gestures towards the water.
“I told you, I’m a piffy.”
“I still don’t know what that is.”
“It’s too big, I need a smaller mirror. I don’t care how it’s designed, just so that it can sit on a flat surface on its own, and is too small to fit through if it were a window.” That might sound like safer specifications than the most dangerous time mirror would have, some of which can be stepped through as portals, but no means of reaching across space and time is worth what she might do with even only an ounce of freedom beyond the confines of this one corner of this one celestial body.
“As I said...no.”
“Then you will never find your children.”
“You are not my only avenue.” He turns around to leave.
“No tracker can find them either,” she insists. “They are...beyond their sight.”
He looks back with a bit of a smirk. “A decent tracker can find anyone in the universe. If they’re beyond that, they’re in another universe. They’re in Fort Underhill.” He turns around again, and begins to walk away.
“Not...Fort Underhill,” she clarifies. After he turns to face her again. “Not Salmonverse either. Not even Ansutah.”
He narrows his eyes at Effigy. “A new universe,” he reasons. “That’s what they’re doing. They’re building one, just like Hogarth did. I knew it.”
“I never said that.” She’s either realizing that she has said too much, or this is all part of some dastardly plan, and her upset demeanor is yet another ploy.”
“Either way, I know who to talk to now. You’re not getting your mirror.” He turns away for the last time now, determined not to let her change his mind.
So he can’t see, but he can hear that she’s turned back into Judy. “Stop! No! I’m so lonely. Don’t go!” There’s a pause before he makes it back over to the wall. “Daddy!” She sounded like Clavia just there. He knows that it’s a trick. It’s easier to see that when you’re aware of the extent of her powers. Still, it’s hard to ignore, and he has to fight his instincts. It takes everything he has to open that door, and leave.

Sunday, May 25, 2025

The Advancement of Mateo Matic: July 19, 2501

Generated by Google Flow text-to-video AI software, powered by Veo 2
Leona, Olimpia, and Romana were on a trip together in Portland. They checked into a hotel for one night, but then they left to rough it in a cabin in the woods far outside of town. This was a bonding experience meant to strengthen Leona’s relationship with Olimpia, and create a relationship between Olimpia and Romana. The former seemed to be okay with the three-person arrangement that her parents had, but she hadn’t spent much time with their third. They weren’t intending on her becoming a second mother—especially not since Romana was approaching adulthood—but it was important for them to get to know each other better.
“Do you still know where you’re going?” Olimpia asked. They were on a hike now, straight away from their cabin.
Leona checked the satnav on her watch. “Absolutely, I do. Not far now.”
“I hear the highway,” Romana said. “We’re not in the middle of nowhere anymore. If we need to stop and ask for directions, I’m sure it’s fine.”
“That you can hear the highway is a good sign,” Leona said. “The surprise isn’t remote.”
“What is it?” Olimpia asked for the umpteenth time, knowing that she would not receive an answer this time either.
“Just be patient.” We’re really close. She wasn’t wrong. Ten minutes later, they were passing through the trees, and onto the edges of some town. “Welcome...to Kansas City.”
“We walked all the way back to Kansas City?” Olimpia questioned. “What did we do, teleport?” She laughed.
“Kansas City...Oregon,” Leona clarified.
“Is that even a thing?” Romana asked.
“Clearly. You may now look at your phones.”
They both pulled them out, but Romana was faster. “There’s, like, fifteen people here.”
“I know. Cool, though, right?” Leona said with her hands on her hips.
“This was the surprise? A few people moved here from Missouri, and were too unoriginal to come up with a new name.”
“Well, I thought it was interesting.”
Olimpia turned around. “I’m headed back.”
“Oh come on, there’s a pool hall,” Leona whined.
“There is a pool hall,” Romana confirmed, still looking at her phone. “It’s pretty much all there is at this point. There isn’t even a restaurant.” She dropped her hand, and stood there with a blank face.
“There’s a school too.”
“No, it closed down.”
“Since when?”
Romana lifted her phone again. “Today.”
“Oh.”
“They had to finish up some summer schooling, but now it’s over.”
“Well, I’m sorry I wasted our time. I thought we could take a picture in front of the town sign. Ya know, like what people do when they go to a small town that shares its name with their surname?” She looked out, and blocked the sun with her hand. “It should be somewhere on that other road over there.”
“No, they took the sign down too,” Romana explained to her. The county stepped in, because it’s an unincorporated community, instead of a real town. So they weren’t allowed to have a sign anymore.”
“Fine,” Leona lamented.
“It’s all right, I still got my steps in today.” Olimpia looked at her own watch. “Eleven kilometers, not bad.” She patted Leona on the back. “That’s reason enough to come here.”
“Can we just take some pictures at least?” Leona begged.
“Sure. Let’s walk closer and get some more steps.”
They took a few photos of each other near one of the few buildings, which must have been a barn, or something. They went to check out the pool hall, but it was very smoky, and gross, so they didn’t even play one round. They just left, and started hiking back to the cabin. Leona was more upset than any of them at how anticlimactic this was. She kept walking with a frowny face, which the other two kept trying to pull back up at the corners. Eventually, she was able to forget about the whole thing, and get back to normal. It was only one day, and the hike was still lovely, so it wasn’t like it was a total waste of time. Besides, they would be able to laugh about it later, and tell a decent story at parties. Or so they thought, until Olimpia fell.
They were on a narrow trail on a ridge, switching their order organically and unintentionally. Each new leader would warn those behind of obstacles or dangers awaiting them. Unfortunately, this meant that one of them would not enjoy any given warning. Before Olimpia had the chance to inform the other two of a loose rock in the soft dirt, she became the victim of it. At first, she believed that she was okay. She caught herself on a whip tree, and even had enough time to say, “I’m good” before the pole trunk snapped under her weight, and dropped her over the edge. She fell so far, Leona and Romana couldn’t even tell how far it was. She kept tumbling and tumbling down the hill, ultimately disappearing through the forest, but they could hear the sounds of her knocking against things as she kept going, and her screams.
“Stay here,” Leona ordered her daughter.
“You’re not going after her.”
“Of course I’m going after her.”
“You’ll die too! You think it’s gonna be easier for you to get down than her?”
“She started on her back, and gained too much momentum,” Leona reasoned as she was dropping her pack. She took out her trekking poles, which she so far hadn’t bothered using. “I have the luxury of being more careful. We can’t just leave her.”
“I’m not saying that. We need to call for help.”
“Yeah, you do that,” Leona said as she was starting down the hill. “We don’t know how long that’s gonna take, though. I need to go assess the situation. That’s why we brought radio transceivers in addition to the sat phone. I’ll stay in contact from down there. Call S&R.”
“Be careful,” Romana warned, as if that could ever help.
“Yeah.” Leona cautiously walked down the hill with her four appendages, but it was taking too long. If she were going up, she could just keep climbing and climbing, but facing forwards, she had to be mindful of where she placed the tip of her pole. It could sink into mud, or slide on a thick leaf, and then it would literally be downhill from here. Momentum was Olimpia’s problem, but it was going to be Leona’s solution. Now that Romana probably couldn’t see her anymore, she started to slide—not uncontrollably, but more like she was on a snowboard. She went as fast as she could, leaning back to keep herself from tipping over. She still used the poles to slow herself down a little, and occasionally catch herself on a tree. As she got the hang of it, it actually started to be less like snowboarding, and more like skiing. She could just about glide down like a pro, like this hill was designed for it. Then she hit an invisible root, which reminded her why boot skiing wasn’t a real thing. She did tip over, and fell right on her face. Her ass flew up over her, and sent her rolling farther down, and just like Olimpia before, she couldn’t stop herself. She kept going and going until she felt a sharp crack in the back of her neck, and the lights went out.
“Mama! Mama!” Leona could hear. It was Romana.
Leona fluttered her eyes open to see that pretty face looking down at her. “Roma,” she whispered.
“She’s awake,” Romana said to someone out of view.
Olimpia’s equally pretty face appeared above her. “How is that possible? Her neck was broken. I swear, it was broken.”
“Clearly not,” Romana argued.
“Help me up, daughter.” With Romana’s aid, Leona got into a seated position. She leaned back against a boulder on the edge of a creek, and looked up at Olimpia, who was absolutely covered in blood; not quite like Carrie White, but not entirely unlike her either. “How are you alive?”
“I don’t know,” Olimpia replied. “I guess we’re both lucky.”
“Where’s the rescue team?” Leona asked.
“They’re not here yet,” Romana answered. “They said that it would be a couple of hours.”
“That’s funny,” Leona began. “They would be your only way down here since I explicitly ordered you to stay up there.”
“I’m younger than you two,” Romana reasoned. “I have better balance. Even with these things.”
Leona scoffed. Ever since Romana’s boobs came in, she was always talking about them...like Leona ought to be jealous. “You’ll get sick of ‘em.” She struggled to stand up all the way. “I’m all right, I can do it,” she insisted when Romana tried to help again. She looked up at the sky as if she would see a helicopter on its way. “You need to wash yourself off. You survived something that you probably shouldn’t have, and we don’t need people asking questions.”
“What are we?” Olimpia asked. “Superheroes, or something?”
“I’ve never saved anyone in my life,” Leona replied.
“Yes, you have, you’ve saved trillions,” Romana said.
“What?”
Romana flinched, and took a beat. “What?”
That wasn’t true, yet it did sound right somehow. Leona turned back to Olimpia. “Get in the water.”
“I don’t wanna get dysentery.”
“Just don’t get any in your mouth, you’ll be fine,” Leona assured her.
“You could also use these,” Romana countered. She removed a pack of wet wipes from the side pocket on her pack, which she managed to keep on her person.
“Thank you,” Olimpia said, graciously accepting them from her. “I’m gonna need them all, I think,” she decided, looking down at the mess. “And a change of clothes?”
“I can afford it,” Romana told her, “and certainly. How do you feel about pink crop tops?”
Olimpia stripped down and cleaned herself up. In the meantime, Romana tried to cancel search and rescue, but that went against protocol. They said that they couldn’t just turn around and erase the mission from their logs. She could be under duress, or suffering from a concussion that made her confused. They received a distress call, and were obligated to go out and investigate. Welp, they would have to lie and say that it wasn’t as serious as they thought. Romana wasn’t lying about the crop top, though. For Olimpia’s larger frame, however, it was extra croppy; more like a bra. They opted to climb back up the ridge. It wasn’t safe, but they seemed to be some kind of invincible, and they were hoping to find Olimpia’s bag along the way. They did, which allowed her to change into her own extra set of clothes instead.
They found Leona’s bag back up on the ridge trail. After taking a stop to drink water, they simply continued on their way. Oddly enough, the rescue team didn’t show up, and never called back. Concerned, Leona called them again an hour later, but the line was dead. “The phone number you are trying to reach is unavailable, or has been disconnected. Please check the number, and try your call again.” They tried a few more times, and still got nothing. That was super bizarre, but not their problem anymore. They just returned to the cabin, and collapsed on their respective bunks.
The next day, they got back in touch with the boys back in the regular Kansas City area. They immediately confessed what happened to them on that ridge, which prompted Mateo to admit that something similar happened to them, though less accidentally. There was something going on between the four of them, and their neighbors, the Walton twins. Even though they had no clue what was happening, their instincts were telling them that Romana was a lot more fragile, and her durability should not be tested with stabbings, falls, or surge protector strikes. Still, she was one of them, and other than Boyd, and maybe Pacey, no one else was. The more they thought on it, the more convinced they were that they were in a simulation. They had customers and clients and employees, but none of them could relate any specific story about one of them. They couldn’t remember the last time they were at the dentist, or a conversation they had with a classmate. There was something wrong with their memories. That was what it all came down to. And Pacey. He knew something. They could feel it.
The girls boarded their plane, and went back home, or at least that was what they believed. They didn’t have any memory of that either. Not clearly. They returned with the impression that a sufficient amount of time had passed between Portland and Mission Hills, and it seemed like they were at the airport, and then on a plane, but they had no recollection of it. They needed answers, and they needed to find a way to get those answers without their memories being messed with again, if that was really what was happening at all. They didn’t know. They didn’t know anything. Maybe confronting Pacey wasn’t the right call. Maybe all they could do was go out and push the boundaries. If none of this was real, there would be clues. There would be little rendering mistakes, and coding copies. Ramses called this geometry instancing. If they were in a virtual environment, each blade of grass would probably just be a copy, repeated from a single block of code. Through enough examination, they should be able to detect this, even though they obviously couldn’t read the code directly. Hopefully, whoever was watching over them—if anyone—wouldn’t catch them in the act. Perhaps a distraction was in order?

Wednesday, July 24, 2024

Microstory 2198: Not My Business to Reveal

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I have a bunch of training to do, which I’ve been putting off while I do my actual job. I had other jobs during my life on my old Earth, and a lot of them required that we take classes. The first one I had as a lifeguard had in-service courses that we took while the pool was closed. Since then, jobs have mostly relied on online solutions. I used to like to do these quickly, so I could get them out of the way, but not this time, because I’ve been so busy. I don’t want to badmouth my organization, but you don’t have to remind me every few months to not sell my clients’ data. I don’t really talk about it, but every post I write now is being approved by the legal departments both at my company, and at the jail. That’s why they’re being uploaded later than they used to be, because it takes more time now. They understand that I can’t wait days for a daily blog post to be approved and ready, so they try to get to it right away, but this isn’t their only responsibility, so it can experience delays. The point is, even if I wanted to say something that they didn’t want me to, they wouldn’t allow it. I know, the training is important, but there’s a reason why I’m only getting to it right now, because my current staff has to do their own coursework anyway before we get too deep into the real work. I only did one bit of major work today, but that didn’t take long either. One of my new hires had to drop out for reasons that are not my business to reveal. They hadn’t started yet, so at least I won’t have to conduct the exit interview or paperwork. I will have to find someone to replace them, but it’s all right. We’re going to be able to get through this. I didn’t think that we would make it all the way without issue, which is why it’s standard practice to interview a number of people for one position. I’m not mad, and I don’t think anyone else in my company is. It happens; life, that is. Speaking of which, I better get back to mine. I need to finish this post up tout de suite, so I can get it down the pipeline.

Wednesday, April 17, 2024

Microstory 2128: Carve Out Some Real Time

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

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

Wednesday, March 1, 2023

The Advancement of Mateo Matic: Year 272,398

Mateo climbs out of his pod, and into the main living area. Most everyone is sitting on the couches. It almost looks like he’s walked into a party that he wasn’t invited to. They all look pretty happy, especially Curtis. “Hey, look who’s awake! Finally! What’s it been, like eight—nine thousand years?”
Mateo glances back at his pod. “Ten, just as it usually is.”
“Ah, that’s too long. Come on, buddy. Join the celebration.” He puts his arm over Mateo’s shoulder.
“What are we, uh...celebrating?” Mateo asks, letting Curtis lead him deeper into the room.
“It’s Abigail,” he explains. “She’s gettin’ out for good behavior. Hail Abby!” He holds up his glass, and waits for everyone else to echo him, but they don’t. “Ah, you people are no fun.”
“Hail Abby!” Mateo chants alone.
“Thanks, Matt,” Abigail says, raising her glass.
“That’s what I’m talkin’ ‘bout. You’re good people. Here, have a drink.” He hands him his own glass of water, then goes over to the bar to get another to replace it.
“Dani, what does this mean?” Mateo questions.
“I’m letting her use the time machine,” Danica replies.
“Transtemporal relocator,” Aquila corrects. They took Mateo’s advice. Aquila always wears sunglasses, and Bhulan never does, though she sometimes leaves them on top of her head for ease of switching if the two of them are shifting control back and forth. It’s nice to know that he can still contribute.
“Whatever,” Danica dismisses.
Mateo nods, happy for Abigail, but confused, and just a little ticked off. That’s good, Danica is finally loosening up a bit on her restrictions, but that doesn’t explain why Mateo can’t go home too. Based on their experience with the time machine, she should actually be able to return him and his friends to the main sequence. “Cool.”
Danica can sense his frustration. “I know you’re upset, and I would be sending you back too, but things have changed. Tamerlane changed things. No, I’m not still mad at you, but he’s forced my hand. I have to place someone in charge of the Omega Gyroscope, and it has to be someone I can trust. Leona is already part of the line of succession. I have already set in motion a series of events which will lead her to coming back here to rescue you. All we have to do is wait. All you have to do is wait.”
“But then we’ll have to stay here, won’t we? At least every 49,999 years, she’ll have to come out of stasis to reclaim control over the damn thing. But other than that, we don’t have real lives. We don’t have any choice.”
Danica shakes her head, she will be able to leave anytime she wants. All she’ll have to do is modify the Gyroscope’s programming to generate a new succession list, starting with me. Then I’ll send you both wherever you want.”
“What if we don’t do that? What if she refuses to relinquish control? How will you stop us? You can’t leave us out of stasis, unless you make us immortal, or we’ll die long before humans start living on this planet. The Gyroscope is all but useless until then.”
“Remember,” Danica begins, “it’s possible to change the differential. For now, ten thousand years equals one second, but I can slow it down. I can make it so that ten thousand years is more like an hour. You’ll age forty-five years in the meantime. Either she gives up control of the Omega Gyroscope, or she gives up control of her life.”
“Wow, way to be a party pooper,” Curtis criticizes.
“You don’t need to be part of this discussion,” Danica shoots right back.
“Lay off my husband!” Cheyenne volleys.
Danica sighs. “Enjoy the party,” she says to the group. Then she approaches Mateo, and takes him by the arm. “Transport us to the pool.”
At the last second, Bhulan and Aquila take his other arm, so all four end up there. Bhulan takes off the sunglasses. “This involves me as well. Team Triple Threat, remember? Aquila, please go dormant,” she says to her brainmate.
“I want us to be friends,” Danica claims. “I don’t like all this hostility.”
“Really? Because you’re going out of your way to be hostile most of the time.”
“I know that it feels that way, but one day—”
“It’s worse in the future, I can’t even friggin’ find you.”
“Don’t talk to me about the future, I don’t wanna know.”
“Oh no? Because it appears as though you’re totally sure of yourself about it. You have no doubts, no qualms. What if I told you that the future is a hellish hellscape with hellacious demons from hell, hellbent on helling it up with hellfire all over that hellhole world? Would you believe me? Would you do something different?”
“I would not believe you. If you could prove it, I would try to prevent it.”
Mateo breathes. “Your father told me that you gained some insight into the other realities, so you know how bad they are. You know how volatile the Fourth Quadrant is. You know how dangerous and unequal—and boring—the Fifth Division is. Of course, you’re from the main sequence, so you know how terrible that one is. I can’t say anything bad about the Parallel, except that they can be pretty pretentious and heartless. You seem to be under the impression that you’re going to make this world better. Maybe it’s because there’s no time travel, maybe it’s because of all the religions you create, but while I wouldn’t actually describe it as a hellish hellscape, it ain’t paradise neither. People are assholes, and then they die. This is true of every reality...except for the Parallel, because they don’t die. Ya know, why don’t we always just ignore that one?”
“They’re warmongers.” Cheyenne has snuck into the pool area.
“What?” Bhulan asks. “Who are?”
“The Parallelers. They’re warmongers. They killed more than anyone in the Reality Wars. They were heartless, and they were...ruthless. Nothing was off limits to them, or will be, rather. Women, children; antimatter weapons, bioweapons. They only lost because...” It’s too hard to go on. She doesn’t think about it, let alone say it. Anyway, it’s before my time, but I’ve seen the VRDocs.”
Danica looks down at the ground. “We’re the cause of the war, though, aren’t we? This machine. Every Constant has one. We’re the easiest link between realities. At least one of us opens a door that can’t be closed.”
“I don’t know anything about that,” Cheyenne says.
Danica sneers. “New plan. No one’s going anywhere. Unfortunately, Abigail is just never gonna get home, and neither are you,” she says to Mateo. “We’re going to destroy that machine...right after we destroy the other four.”