Showing posts with label resort. Show all posts
Showing posts with label resort. Show all posts

Thursday, May 8, 2025

Microstory 2404: Winterbourne Park

Generated by Google VideoFX text-to-video AI software, powered by Veo 2
I understand that there are plenty of mountains, and plenty of snow, on Earth. I understand that you can go on the most dangerous terrain in one of those places, and program your consciousness to jump to a new substrate if something goes wrong. But there’s something really special about being under a dome that’s designed to be the largest ski resort anyone has ever seen outside of a simulation. That’s another thing, you can do all of this more in a virtual construct, if that’s you’re thing, but there’s nothing quite like knowing that this is all happening in base reality. This place is huge. Hundreds of hills, dozens of mountains. Sledding, skiing, snowboarding, snowmobiling, ice luging. Is that how you spell it? You know what I’m talking about. They also have fat biking, snowshoeing, cross-country skiing, ice skating, climbing, sled rides. I think the animals are animatronics, but who knows? I didn’t ask. There’s a train that goes all around one of the mountains. You can jump over it on your skis or snowboard, or you can ride the train instead, and watch people do that. It’s funny when they fall, because you know they’re gonna be okay. There’s one mountain, and it’s a toughy, where they intentionally trigger an avalanche, and you have to ski or board away from it. That one’s a little scary. I didn’t do it, and plus, you have to wait for it to be reset. They have to shovel the snow back up to the top, and collect all the dead bodies. It’s not like you can just go up there whenever you feel like it. The indoor areas are just as good. The various resorts have everything you could want, like saunas and spa treatments, hot cocoa, tons of fireplaces to read next to. There are remote cabins for you to sleep in, or you can stay in the main town. They have igloo hotels, which I think I’m gonna go back to try. Didn’t have time to do it all, but everyone who was doing the things that I never got around to seemed to be having a lot of fun.

Sunday, April 21, 2024

The Advancement of Mateo Matic: May 23, 2444

Generated by Google Gemini Advanced text-to-image AI software, powered by Imagen 2
Now that they had tested the refurbished reframe engine from a safe distance, it was time to test it while on board. They would continue to monitor the machine to make sure it held up, but that was something that they did every time they used it. They were just paying extra close attention in case there was a temporal component to the repairs. Perhaps ongoing stress would cause the nanofractures to reopen. They would never be completely safe, but then again, they never were at all in this line of business.
The speed of a ship equipped with this kind of technology was limited to roughly 707 times the speed of light, which means that they would always be able to travel a distance of 707 light years during their interim year. Making it back to the stellar neighborhood would take them 23 years, which for the team, was about three weeks. That was doable, but they were too busy for that. For one, they had to find a place to drop off Korali, and the rest of the staff of Ex-467, who nearly died due to their interference, and would have without their intervention. They needed a new place to live. It had to be nice and safe, but also had the chance of returning them to whatever worlds they originally came from, or just wanted to go to now. Korali said that the space station had a manifest, but she didn’t have a copy of it, because why would she? Perhaps someone in the Subdimensional Crucible happened to have it on them, but they could not interact with those people yet. Not until they were released would that be possible.
“Well, I’m not sure if I should say,” Korali began cryptically.
“Why wouldn’t you say it?”
“It’s dangerous,” Korali answered. “Well, I don’t mean there are monsters running around, or something, but as enemies of the state, you would not be welcomed there.”
“They don’t know who we are,” Ramses reminded them. He transformed himself into the likeness of 20th and 21st century actor, Misha Collins.
“That’s true,” Korali admitted, but she was still reluctant.
“It’s just an idea,” Leona said encouragingly. “We don’t have to take it, but we need to know what it is, so we have our options.”
“It’s Ex-18118,” Korali said.
“That’s not on my list,” Ramses said, pulling his handheld device out to check. “Plus, it breaks the three-digit convention.”
“You probably don’t have Ex-403 or Ex-404 on your list either,” Korali explained. “Wherever you got your intel it was probably from an ordinary citizen. Loyalists like I was have special knowledge. Ex-18118 is for Rest and Relaxation. On the occasion that we’re given leave from our duties, like between assignments, we can take it on Ex-18118. Regular people live there to support our needs, like vendors and sex workers, but the majority of the population are people like me who need a little time off to recharge.”
“So everyone there would hate us if they found out who we were,” Mateo figured.
“Then it’s the perfect place,” Leona decided. “No one will be looking for us. Everyone will literally have their guards down, and if it’s a hub for loyalists, they probably come from all over the Corridor, which means that we shouldn’t have to worry about people wondering why they don’t recognize us.”
“They still may ask you where you’re from,” Korali clarified. “You’ll need to know how to answer that question.” She sighed. “I would recommend Ex-420 or Ex-69. No one will ask any more questions if you say that, not even people who have worked at either of those places. It’s just not something you talk about. You’ll need to know what to wear, and how to act, though.”
Korali showed Ramses where Ex-18118 was. It actually wasn’t too far from Ex-42, which again, no longer mattered. They could cross the span of the entire Goldilocks Corridor in a day from their perspective. Still, they were considering going there next. Before they engaged reframe speeds, she described the Ex-420 uniforms, which literally had an image of a marijuana leaf on them, so that was fun to program into the industrial synthesizers. While those were working, she taught them how 420 staff members behaved, which was odd, to say the least. They were hardened and imposing, but also high all the time, because they were around so much smoke? It was confusing to learn, but it sounded easier than figuring out how to pretend to be Ex-69ers, who were also overserious, but at the same time, too horny to be professional.
While the smart people were discussing the plan with the dimensional box, Mateo pulled Korali aside for a personal conversation. “How do you feel?”
“I’m okay,” Korali answered. “I don’t have any problems with stasis. Some people do, but you use better technology anyway.”
“I don’t mean that, though that is nice to hear. I mean, you’ve been behind enemy lines for a while now. Going down to this planet is your chance to return to your life, but it’s also a chance to...screw us over. If you were planning on doing that, I wouldn’t expect you to warn me, but I feel I would be remiss if I didn’t attempt to ask.”
She smiled softly, and kept looking forward. “In December of 1943, during what your people refer to as World War II, two enemy pilots named Charlie Brown and Franz Stigler encountered each other on the battlefield. Brown’s aircraft was too damaged to continue fighting, but instead of destroying him, Stigler escorted him to safety. Decades later, long after the animosities from the war had passed, the two of them reunited, and became true friends. I don’t know if you and I are going to reunite in 47 years, but I know that I’m going to show you compassion now. You saved those people on the space station when you didn’t have to. I still believe that the Oaksent is a good man, but I no longer believe that you’re not. For now, that’s just going to have to be enough.”
Mateo smiled back. “I understand, and appreciate it.”
Leona came up to them. “We’re ready. Korali, you need to get in your stasis pod. It’s going to be longer than half a day for you this time, and you won’t be allowed out until we let you.”
“I get it,” Korali replied respectfully.
Once the Vellani Ambassador arrived at the outer edge of the system, it turned invisible, and parked itself on a long-period comet. Ramses had programmed the exterior hologram to make them look like a standard recreational shuttle from Ex-420, but they didn’t want anyone to find it during their interim year, regardless of what it looked like. When they returned to the timestream in 2444, they released Korali from her stasis pod to go over the plan one more time, and then they got dressed, and began to cover the rest of the distance at subfractional speeds.
Their reputation preceded them, even though no one knew who they were. Just dropping down to the surface of the planet with those three big numbers on the side of their hull practically parted the sea for them. No one asked them for verification, or to register with an intake officer. They could presumably do whatever they wanted here, and no one would try to stop them. One thing they apparently weren’t allowed to do, however, was land in a remote area of the planet. There were satellites and ground stations positioned all around the globe. This was to ensure that no one tried to stay here for the rest of the lives when they were supposed to go back to their work eventually. Besides, that wouldn’t do them any good, because the whole point was to help the survivors of Ex-467 return to those lives. The team was just going to be really far away when that happened. So they did need to be away from the population centers, just not too far away. They couldn’t teleport, though, because that could be tracked.
They stopped at the hotel to check in, which basically involved them showing those three special numbers on the shoulders of their uniforms, and providing the clerk with false names. They spent a couple hours in their suite before claiming to be going on a leisurely stroll in the arboretum. That’s exactly what they did, except that there was nothing leisurely about it. They walked as fast as they could, and even ran a little, though Korali found it difficult to keep up, since her body was not enhanced. Mateo actually carried her part of the way, because they wanted to get really far from anyone else. The survivors would eventually make their way back, but not too quickly.
Several hours later, they were roughly forty kilometers away. They were far enough away, in fact, that no one who suddenly woke up here would have any particular reason to suspect that their best hope of finding civilization lay in the east. This was a good place to drop them off, even though they could have gone farther. The weather was calm here, and the environment felt safe. A beautiful clear pond provided them with a source of freshwater, and Korali said that a lot of these plants were edible. They were looking for a cave to sort of maybe encourage the survivors to dig in for the night, but they were liable to do that either way, which was why they chose to land the Vellani on this side of the planet, because night was falling soon anyway.
“Do you have your story straight?” Leona asked Korali.
“Yes. I managed to get into an escape pod as soon as I heard the alarm go off in the warehouse. I left so quickly that I didn’t even hear the announcement to head for the mess hall. The blastwave of a secondary explosion that the Lucius bomb triggered struck my pod, and knocked me unconscious. I’ve been surviving in stasis ever since until the Oaksent dispatched a rescue team to search for survivors. They ordered me to come here to Ex-18118 to give the survivors one year to rest and recuperate. I then decided that it was best to let them out of the Subdimensional Crucible away from the nearest hotel to avoid inundating them with questions right after they were released.”
“Are you okay with lying?” Marie asked.
“It won’t be my first time,” Korali acknowledged, obviously never intending to elaborate. She carefully took the Crucible from Ramses. It was still in the giant suitcase that they used to conceal it from others. She set it on the ground and opened it up to use the microscope. “They’re all right. They’ll be all right.” She stood back up. “Who knows what’s happened to them, though? They’ve had years to form a new society. Your supply drops have surely helped, but they could be anybody.”
“You know how to contact us,” Leona reminded her.
Korali tapped the comms device secretly implanted behind her ear.
“We’ll see each other again, Mateo said confidently.” He took her in a hug. “Hopefully we won’t have to wait a whole 47 years for it.”
“Agreed. I’ll probably be dead by then.”
They left her alone, and made their way towards the hotel. Running at full speed this time, they were back in less than four hours. They relaunched just before midnight.

Sunday, February 18, 2024

The Advancement of Mateo Matic: May 14, 2435

Generated by Google Gemini Advanced text-to-image AI software, powered by Imagen 2
If Vitalie went back in time, presumably to Ex-741, why didn’t she prevent the planet from being destroyed? Well, there was a logical answer to that, though there was no way of knowing whether it was the right answer. The world suffered a massive matter-antimatter reaction, worse than the one that decimated the refugee world that the team tried to stay on in the Fifth Division. This one was catastrophic enough to tear the whole thing apart, so there was no reason to believe that anyone survived it, and since the chain reaction was obviously triggered by their arrival, they had every reason to suspect that their deaths was the ultimate goal. Perhaps any vessel that tried to land would have triggered the reaction, but since the Exins would have proverbially gotten away with their oppressive ways if it weren’t for the meddling kids, the team decided to assume that they were the specific targets. So they were almost certainly dead, their means of survival being so outrageous that the Exins would not have even considered it as a possible outcome, and the best thing that Team Matic could do was to stay dead. To make that happen without just running away, or pointlessly orbiting a star for years on end would be to start hiding in plain sight.
The old ship that Vitalie apparently programmed to meet them on the asteroid was rather small. Perhaps old wasn’t the word for it...certified preowned, maybe? They didn’t find any auto history report in it, though, so they couldn’t tell what it had been through. Ramses found a database of information in the central computer, but it didn’t say anything about how the vessel was used in the past. It just provided him with the technical specifications, and the implication that it was very, very old. Oh, and they also knew that it was called The Dorsch. It was not a rustbucket, but as mentioned, it was small; smaller than the Dante, though still larger than the little unnamed thing they were using that was just destroyed a few years ago. Ram spent the rest of the day affixing the pocket dimension generator to one of the doors, as well as making some other retrofits. The rest of the team had school.
While the Dorsch was going to shapeshift using exterior holographics, the rest of the team needed to do the same. Fortunately, they were all capable of changing their appearances. The power was replicated from Alyssa McIver, though none of them had used it much. Leona was the most experienced, but the rest had only tried a few times, so she spent most of the day teaching them how to hold convincing and sustained false images. They couldn’t lose focus for a split second, or it would totally undermine the ruse. The next day, only Marie and Angela were excelling at the new skill, so it was decided that the others would not yet face any of the locals at their next destination. So only the three of them would be part of the outreach program.
Mateo and Olimpia went off to find Vitalie!613, but that didn’t take long at all, so they zipped back up to the Dorsch, where Ramses was working. The holographic projectors were not yet ready, but that was all right, because the idea was to always show up to each new planet looking different, and they had never been anywhere else looking like this, so it was fine to use for this trial run. They still didn’t know if their new modus operandi was going to work in the short-term, let alone the long-run. “How long are you gonna wait?” He was tweaking something on some device.
“I’ll wait several months,” Vitalie!613 decided. If she started butting into lives of the Ex-613 natives right after this mysterious trio of women showed up, they might make a connection between them, and if they did that, they may start to suspect some connection to Team Matic, which would invalidate this whole revised plan.
“What are you gonna do in the meantime?” Ramses pressed.
“I’ll just find an island somewhere, and have a nice vacation. That is, unless you can give me your little illusion power, so I can blend in with them.”
“It’s not that easy,” he said apologetically. The truth was that he didn’t want this power spreading like a virus. Eventually, everyone would be able to look like anyone, and then the entire concept of trust could be vanquished from the universe. Was it selfish to hoard the ability, and keep it just within the group? Probably, but he wasn’t going to apologize for it. He would only apologize for the other reasons. “I couldn’t just give it to you as you are. I would need to clone you, and transfer your consciousness, and I don’t know enough about your current powers to replicate those as well. It’s a delicate balance. You can’t just copy and paste powers. You would end up being more than the sum of your parts, and the consequences of that condition are too unpredictable.”
“You don’t have to tell me that,” Vitalie!613 said. “I don’t just have Andromeda’s, Saga’s, Camen’s, and Étude’s powers separately. They’re all mixed in with each other. Étude wasn’t born with the ability to teleport. She was given the ability to be teleported, by the powers that be. The fact that she retained any level of it always felt like a mistake to her. She thought that the PTB forgot to take it away, because they would normally pass it on to someone else, but she was last, so it slipped their minds. I bet if we compared notes, we would find that the way I teleport is different than your way.”
Ramses was working this whole time, but he stopped now to look up. Then he turned to face her as he was lifting the lenses of his magnifying specs. “That’s a good idea. Let’s compare notes.”
“That sounds time-intensive, and it doesn’t look like you have time. I’m not leaving this planet, and you’re not staying.”
Ramses flicked the lenses back down. “Well, we’ll see. Leona may determine that this world is a two-dayer.”
Meanwhile, down on the planet, Leona, Angela, and Marie were pretending to be three survivors from the north. They found two major settlements on the surface, which were on the same continent, but thousands of kilometers from each other. They were not connected by any roads, and the level of technology that they exhibited did not suggest that air transport was a thing here. In addition, multiple mountain ranges separated them, making foot-traffic unlikely, albeit not impossible, which would explain how these three strangers made it all the way here. The northern settlement was in ruins. They found bones, but no evidence of an attack. They probably died out in an epidemic of some sort. All of this gave them a hopefully believable reason why the southern settlement had never seen them before.
“So, you don’t want a parade?” the Director asked them.
“Why would we get a parade?” Leona asked him.
“We always put on a parade for new arrivals,” the Director explained. “The only person who never got a parade was the first one here. She’s the one who planned the parade for the second person. But I guess if you’ve been living here, you already got your parade...unless they don’t do them up north.”
“Uh, we’re not sure,” Marie responded. “We never arrived here,” she lied. “We were born on this world. Our parents might have had parades, though.”
He narrowed his eyes. “We were sterilized. We’re not supposed to have children.”
“It must not have worked for them,” Angela reasoned. “The two of us are twins. She’s our younger sister.”
“Really? She looks older.”
“I’ve had a harder life,” Leona said. They couldn’t make themselves look like one of their friends from the stellar neighborhood, because any of them could be just as famous as the members of the team. But they each knew plenty of people from their pasts that had no connection to salmon and choosers. The easiest way to form a skintight hologram of someone like that was to let your subconsciousness do it for you. Leona didn’t even remember who this person was that she looked like now. She could have been a fifth grade art teacher, or a mother she stood behind in line in the grocery store once. If she looked older than the inspirations that Angela and Marie’s subconsciousnesses chose, it was nothing more than a coincidence.
Marie sighed. “Here’s what happened. She and I were born, and we lived up north. Before we were old enough to keep memories, our parents had to leave. The theory is that everyone else died. We don’t know how. Along the way, she was born, which meant that she was always on the move, and never benefited from the stability of a true home. That could be why she’s aged a little faster. We have been heading this direction our entire lives. Our parents died along the way, and now here we are.”
“Did you see any other resorts?” the Director asked them all.
“Resort?”
“Yeah, that’s what this is. It’s a resort. I am the Resort Director.”
“Oh.” Marie faced Leona. “It was a resort. If it was anything like this place, our parents lived in a resort.”
Leona nodded. “They were so cagey. They refused to tell us much about where we came from. That’s why we’re so confused and uninformed. Please forgive us.”
“What is the purpose of this resort?” Angela asked, doubling down on their excuse to be ignorant.
“It is a reward for a job well-done. We all came from different planets. Every year, the Empire evaluates the merits of every planet under the domain. One planet is selected which has exemplified the values and spirit of the Exin Way of Life. At the same time, a potential winner on each planet is found after its own rigorous evaluations. If the planet wins that year’s round of evaluations, the planet’s winner is transported here from there. On the planet where I’m from, the local winner receives consolation prizes if that planet is not chosen as the above-all winner. On some planets, if the planet doesn’t win that year, the individual winner wins nothing. They just go on with their lives.”
“I see. So you’re all just living here together. All of your needs are provided?” Leona asked him.
“Absolutely,” the Resort Director replied. “We always suspected that there were other resorts, but we have no communication with them. This is big news.”
“Do you have any problems? Any crime?”
“No. Like I said, we’re all chosen after rigorous evaluations. No one with poor psychology, or proven bad behavior, is allowed in. Everything’s perfect. I see no reason why you can’t join us. No one can be here if they don’t belong, so you must belong.”
“Thanks. We’ll, uh...can we talk in private?” Leona asked.
“You may have the room,” he offered before leaving.
“I think we just got our Vitalie back,” Marie determined.
“Why?” Angela asked.
“They don’t need a Caretaker,” Leona figured. “This place is...inconsequential. No one needs to be saved. They don’t need to be stopped from doing anything bad.”
Leona, Angela, Marie,” Olimpia began through the comms. “Get back up here.
They all teleported back up to the ship.
“We’ve been listening,” Olimpia went on. “What were you gonna say, Vita?”
“I think I should stay,” Vitalie!613 believed.
“What would you do here?” Leona asked her.
“I would gather information. That’s what you need, right?”
“Well, yeah, but...”
“You have a star chart. You know the numeral designation of every planet you go to, but you don’t know anything about it, do you? They might need your help. They might be trying to destroy the galaxy. You just don’t know. Let me find out for you, so you can prepare for the mission. There could be one person from every single planet in the Empire here. I’ll talk to them, gain their trust, and then relay information to you. Just give me one of those little communication discs.”
“That’s not your mission, though; your self-appointed purpose. You replicated yourself to take care. You’re the Caretaker.”
“Eh, things change,” Vitalie!613 mused. “Have you noticed when you’ve met other versions of me that we all act a little bit differently? Because of stasis, it hasn’t necessarily been very long since we diverged. Before the OG Vitalie started replicating herself through time travel, she prepared herself psycho-emotionally. She essentially trained herself to be flexible, adaptable. Every one of me that you meet is different because the situation is different, because you’re coming at me with different attitudes, based on your own background, which shifts with every new experience that you have. Yes, I came here to be a caretaker, but now as you’ve pointed out, Ex-613 doesn’t need that. It needs a spy.”
“I dunno,” Leona said. “You’re not invincible. People train in spycraft for years. You don’t just wake up one day and start doing it. Infiltrating one person’s life is difficult enough, but you want to infiltrate—and gain the trust of—an entire population. That is a tall order for anyone. Forgive me, but on Dardius, you operated primarily on brute force, because no one could stop you. Subtlety is not something that you needed before.”
“Okay, so let’s start small. I’ll insert myself into the life of one person. What’s the designation for the next planet you’re going to?”
“I have the list,” Olimpia announced. She pulled up her tablet. “The next one over is Ex-666. Hm. Does that have the same connotation for you as it did in my time?”
“Yes,” Angela and Marie answered simultaneously.
“I’ll find someone who lived on Ex-666, and tell you about it,” Vitalie!613 continued. “I’ll have months to get the information out of them gradually before you come back into the timestream. Give me a chance. I can take care of myself. Pun very intended.”
Leona thought about it, and eventually agreed. “But don’t forget that we can come back for you. Not at any moment, but...”
“Thanks.”
The next year, they learned that no one on Ex-613 originally came from Ex-666, and later that it was not given that number randomly. It was a penal colony. Maybe the numbers did mean something.

Sunday, February 26, 2023

The Advancement of Mateo Matic: Year 242,398

Danica checks her watch. They should be here by now. There must be something wrong with this damn thing. Or maybe she just doesn’t know how to use it. Tamerlane was right about that. She wasn’t chosen for this job because of her technology skills. She was chosen by fate. Or destiny, or just arbitrarily. Who knows? As she’s shaking her head out of frustration, the machine turns itself on. In a flash, Mateo and Curtis appear from the past. “I’m sending you back. Bhulan isn’t here,” she lies to them. Technically, she is here, but not because this is where Tamerlane sent her. It’s because she returned 10,000 years ago, and now she’s still here, currently hanging out with Abigail, Cheyenne, and Curtis in one of the stasis chambers.
“So we’ve already lost,” Past!Curtis questions.
“Not yet. I have another trick up my sleeve.” Danica double checks the temporal coordinates on the time machine, set to send them back to ten seconds after they left 20,000 years ago.
“Is there anything we can do to help?” Past!Mateo asks.
“You’ve done more than enough,” Present!Mateo replies.
“I wasn’t talking to you,” Past!Mateo argues with his future self.
“Everything’s gonna be okay,” Danica assures him. “Just say you didn’t find her here, because that’s the truth. Safe travels.” She pulls the switch, and sends them home.
“The loop is closed,” Present!Mateo declares with an exhalation that sounds like he’s been holding it in the whole time.
“The issue remains.” Danica starts tapping on her watch, remotely unlocking Tamerlane’s special stasis pod, the hatch to his private stasis chamber, and the gate to his cell. “I need you to get something for me.”
“What?”
“Tamerlane Pryce. I don’t feel like walking all the way down there, and all the way back. We may as well get some use out of your teleportation powers.”
“What are you gonna do to him?” Mateo darts his gaze over to the machine. “Or rather, when and where will you send him?”
“I’m going to send him where he wants to go,” Danica answers. Keeping him locked up was the wrong play, and crueler than she ever wanted to be. It’s messing him up, and it will only get worse. There’s one option left to fix this, but he’s not gonna like it, and she definitely won’t. Mateo will probably be displeased too. If Tamerlane wants to disappear, then she’ll help, but to different ends. After Mateo zips away, she starts to set new temporal coordinates, this time 60,000 years from now. He thinks that this will set the Omega Gyroscope free, but there’s something about it that not even he knows.
Mateo returns with the prisoner in hand. “I need to know that you’re not going to hurt him. I can’t be party to that.”
Danica takes Tamerlane by the shoulder, and escorts him into the time chamber. “He’ll be back in the year 302,398, just as he wanted.”
“Why are you doing this?” Tamerlane asks, a little worried about looking a gift horse in the mouth, but too curious to keep quiet.
“It’s clear that I can’t control you,” she explains as she’s stepping out of the blast zone. She frowns at Mateo. “But I think I can control Leona.” She pulls the switch again.

Tuesday, November 29, 2022

The Advancement of Mateo Matic: September 26, 2398

Palmeria is the smallest country in the world, and is known as a micronation, though a few major countries do not recognize it as a sovereign state. Located on the border of the Minnesota, United States and Canada, and comprising two lacustrine islands, Palmeria is the home to an unknown very few people. To qualify as an independent nation, a population must interact with others in some significant way, and fulfill several other reasonable requirements. As an isolationist political region, the whole point is to not interact with anyone, but the founder—whoever they were or are—found a loophole, and of course, it has to do with religious freedom. Most of the time, declaring yourself independent of your host nation would be more difficult, because they might pose a threat to peace in the world, but Palmeria is so small and insignificant that most governments accept it because they don’t really give a crap. It’s not like the U.S. and Canada were clamoring to hold onto all of maybe fifty acres of land. The Palmerians stick to their islands, and don’t bother anyone.
There is a small economy. For one day and one night, a minimal party of guests are allowed to stay at a resort on the small island, which is only about fifty meters wide. It reportedly costs a buttload of money, and there are no extensions or repeat visits; no exceptions. The waitlist is several years long, and while no details have emerged regarding what a night stay actually entails, it enjoys a five star rating from one hundred percent of vacationers. Mateo, Marie, and Angela have arrived uninvited and unannounced via teleportation. They simply do not have time to do this the ethical way. Hopefully the Palmerians won’t be too angry about it to help. Who could be upset in a place like this? They find clear, unpolluted waters; crisp, clean air; beautiful greenery all around. Many would call this paradise. The only people who wouldn’t like it surely don’t like nature of any kind. It is so calm here, they hope not to ruin it with conflict.
They decided not to land directly on the island, because they don’t know what kind of security measures might have been put in place. Once Mateo finishes blowing up the raft, he and Angela paddle the half kilometer leg to their destination. At first they think they see a man standing on the bank, but the figure isn’t moving, so they decide that it’s an optical illusion. As they draw even closer, it becomes pretty surreal. It must be a person, right? No, it’s still not moving. Maybe a statue? It looks so real. It’s real. As soon as the raft touches land, he relaxes his Queen’s Guard stance to help pull it ashore.
“Thank you. We’re sorry to intrude,” Marie says to him diplomatically.
“Bring the boat up under here before today’s real guests see it,” the man says, helping carry it to a pile of brush and other debris.
“We were hoping to speak with the one in charge,” Marie continues.
“Follow me before today’s real guests see you,” he paraphrases himself.
As they’re following the stranger into the woods, Angela leans over to whisper, “this is a good sign. He might have access to a seer who foresaw our coming.”
“Yeah, maybe,” Marie agrees halfheartedly.
They don’t have to go far before they reach what the greeter calls the main house. He motions for them to approach the door, but doesn’t come with them. He must need to get back to greet today’s real guests. Mateo knocks.
Another man opens. “Ah, there you are.”
“You knew we were coming didn’t you?”
“Of course I did,” he says with a chuckle. “I have cameras all over the island.”
“No,” Marie says, “you knew we were coming today, even though you’ve never even met us.”
“No, I had no idea. You’re supposed to make a reservation online.”
“Why did you let us in then?” Mateo asks.
“I have cameras all over the island,” he repeats, “and a few off of it. I saw you three appear out of nowhere. I’m curious, what universe are you from?”
That makes it sound like he’s directly connected to Chase Palmer. “We’re from this one,” Angela explains. “We’re just from a different reality, where things like teleportation are slightly more common.”
He nods. “I see. “Well, what did you want to speak with me about?”
“Do you know a man by the name of Chase Palmer?” Mateo asks. “He was from another universe.”
The man in charge tilts his head back, surprised by the question. “Did you come here after hearing the name of the island? Did you think you would find him here?”
“We thought maybe we would find one of his descendents, or acolytes maybe?”
“I’m the former. I’m his son, Keaton.” He outstretches his arm. “Keaton Palmer.” After they take turns shaking his hands, he opens his arms wide. I grew up on Earth, where such is the custom. On my mother’s side of the family, however, it’s tradition to hug upon meeting friends, both new and old.
They hug him too.
“Your mother is not from Earth as well?”
Keaton smiles proudly. “No, I’m a successful hybrid. We’re quite rare.”
“I should say so,” Marie determines, “half human, half something else.”
“I’m fully human,” Keaton contradicts. “My mom was just born on a different planet. Technically a different universe too, but it’s a biverse, so we’re very close.”
“How did you end up here?” Mateo asks.
“That is a long story that’s not as interesting as you’re probably imagining. Essentially, I’m on vacation. I wanted to go somewhere without all the fuss and bother. I was just going to retire on my own Earth, but I kind of got detoured.”
“Does that mean you have a way to return?” Marie asks, hopeful.
“In about four or five months, yes,” Keaton answers. “Until then, I can’t so much as contact anyone beyond the membrane. Do you want a ride?”
“Four months is the shortest estimate we’ve heard so far, so...if you’ll have us...”
“Sure, there’s more than enough room for you.”
“Actually, we have many others back home,” Angela warns.
“I’m sure it’ll be fine,” Keaton says, unfazed.
“We appreciate it.”
Mateo nods, glad for the progress. He hands Keaton his notebook of names. “Whenever I meet someone new, I like to find out if we have any mutual acquaintances. Would you mind?”
“No problem.” Keaton takes the notebook, and begins flipping through the list. He’s taken aback. “My mother’s name is in here. How do you know Amber Fossward?”
“Uh, she literally saved my soul once,” Mateo answers.
He considers the news fondly. “That sure sounds like her. Now I definitely feel obligated to help you.”

Sunday, August 14, 2022

The Advancement of Mateo Matic: June 11, 2398

Eleven hours later, the away team was over eight thousand kilometers away. Ramses performed a water landing, then kept The Olimpia in boat mode so they could dock at the marina. A taksi took them over to Bishopsworth Resort, where they spent the night. The concierge was insistent on knowing what time they would be fully awake and dressed in the morning. They were already feeling jet lagged, so they chose 10:00, and when the clock chimed ten times, a crew of waiters burst into their room unannounced, and began to serve them their welcome breakfast. It was shocking, and annoying that no one thought to tell them what would be happening. Perhaps they just assumed everyone would know. They failed to do their research, or rather, Heath did. No matter, the food was good, and they needed to fuel up before the mission. When it was over, they opted to walk back to the marina, where they climbed into their boat, and headed Southeast.
Three hours later, they have made it to reform.belief.paint. They can see all around them forever, but there’s nothing but water, water, and more water. “Does anybody feel anything?” Marie asks. “Do we get the sense that we can teleport again?”
“Not in the least,” Ramses answers.
Apparently the one with the strongest connection to any source of temporal energy, Mateo shuts his eyes and tries to jump all the way back to the entrance to the boat, but he doesn’t move. “Nothing.”
“Hm,” Ramses says. “If anywhere in the world would have it, I would have thought here.”
“Why is that?” Mateo asks. “It’s not really any more special than the pyramids, or Easter Island.”
“Because most of the British Isles are just gone?” Marie says. “That’s weird. It sure as hell sounds like some kind of temporal anomaly. The Great Pyramid of Giza is just sitting there, where it’s supposed to be. We’re not even really sure why it’s special in the first place. But the fact that most of Great Britain doesn’t exist, but some parts of it do...that doesn’t make much sense.”
“True,” Mateo agrees.
“Well, we can’t have come all this way,” Marie begins, “and not at least try to find some clues. There’s only one logical next step.”
Ramses nods, and takes them down as far as this thing can go, but still don’t reach the bottom. If there’s any temporal energy tied to the location of Stonehenge, it’s under too much pressure. It looks like this little side mission is just a dead end. Leona drew a border on the virtual map, so they can maintain their proximity to their target. Mateo keeps trying to jump every once in a while, but nothing happens, not even a hint. The trio keeps thinking that maybe something will surprise them just before they give up, but they continue to sporadically utter defeatist phrases at each other—like “there’s nothing here” or “this is dumb”—yet still nothing changes.
It doesn’t even necessarily have to be time-related. They could resurface to find a band of pirates who want to take them hostage, or a shady government helicopter who has been following them around since the parking lot. But when they break the surface, they find it just as it was before. Water, water, and more water. “I think I’m gonna call it,” Marie declares. “This was a waste of time.”
“No, it wasn’t,” Ramses contends. “We had to come here. If we hadn’t, we would have wondered about it. Now we can check it off the list. That’s the whole point of these little missions. We only have to find one thing that helps us get home.”
Marie nods, appreciating the sentiment. “Let’s go back to the island. We might as well be able to tell Heath that we did the bike tour. He was pretty excited about the prospect of us doing some real vacationy stuff”
Mateo heads towards the stern as Ramses is turning the Olimpia around. Recessed in the walls of the two back cubbies are footholds that lead up to an emergency exit in the ceiling. He opens up the hatch, and climbs outside. He stands on the roof, and continues to look around, hoping to see an ominous dark shadow of a giant creature as it swims underneath them, or a brilliant green whirlpool, or maybe a beacon in the distance. That would be satisfying enough, to rescue a random castaway. But as before, he finds that there is nothing special about this place. It’s just the middle of the ocean on the most boring version of Earth yet. He’s not yet lost hope, because they still have many other locations to test, but it’s sure not a good start. Though, to be fair, it’s not really a start. Magic exists here; The Constant proves it. As Ramses was saying, they have to keep trying, and keep checking things off the list.
After they’re sufficiently far from awaited.passively.landings, he climbs back inside, and hangs out with the other two until they get back to the resort. There they stay for two more nights to finish out their reservation. Island culture is a little bizarre and confusing at times, but overall a lovely experience. Next stop, Munich.

Saturday, August 13, 2022

The Advancement of Mateo Matic: June 10, 2398

Today’s the day. Half of the current team roster is going off on a long-term mission across Europe while the other half stays home to take care of things here. Ramses is in the driver’s seat of The Olimpia, while Heath’s regular car follows them down the road. Cars aren’t fully automated, but they can be programmed to stay on the exact same route as the vehicle ahead of them. It’s really just a fancy way of hitching it to the back. Flying cars such as this one are not commonplace, but they still need laws and regulations to operate safely. A driver can take it on any standard road, and float it in any publicly-accessible body of water, but flying is a lot more difficult. They’ll have to launch from an unpopulated area, and fly at a certain altitude, though very specific routes called market corridors. The more rural the area is under the vessel, the wider the corridor. Early versions had to take off from airstrips, but the more advanced ones are built with vertical take-off engines. So that wouldn’t be a problem, they mainly need to get far enough away from the city.
“Don’t we need to play rock, paper scissors?” Marie asks.
Heath stops midway up the steps. “Uh...no.”
“Ramses says he wants to sleep in the control area,” Mateo says, “and I can just use one of these little cubbies. You take the real bed, this isn’t a negotiation.”
“I don’t really like it up there,” Marie claims.
Heath just keeps carrying her bags up to the loft as Mateo chuckles. “Yeah, right.” He approaches her when he sees her frowning at him. “It’s okay for people to take care of you. I know that that was your job in the afterlife simulation, but surely you had your own counselor when you first died.”
“Yes, we did,” Angela confirms. “His name was Þorgeir.”
“I know that name,” Leona says, perking up. “Thor Thompson was named after him.”
“He’s in good company,” Angela decides. She returns her attention to her alternate self. “Take the loft. You know how much we hate to argue.”
Heath is already hanging her expandable shelf bag on the hook against the outside of the shower room wall. “Thank you,” she says to the group.
“We’re here!” Ramses shouts all the way from the front. They’re in the middle of nowhere outside Independence, facing the Missouri River. “It’s a beautiful day, and this is a beautiful area! Let’s all say our goodbyes before we lose the daylight!” He comes to a stop, turns the hazards on, and comes to the back.
“How long is the first leg?” Mateo asks him.
“That depends on exactly where we’re going,” Ramses answers.
Leona projects a map of their itinerary onto the lav door. The first stop on their fake vacation is Foggy Londontown. It occurs to Mateo that he still doesn’t really understand how the U.S. works in this reality, but he really doesn't know how other countries work. What might be waiting for them when they land? The entire island of the United Kingdom does not exist, for reasons they still don’t yet know. They’ll be investigating that in the coming few days. What they discovered is that a few small islands do indeed exist in the area where Great Britain should be, and they may hold answers. “Okay, the coordinate system is a little different here, which means it took some doing to draw from my own memory of main sequence geography, but I believe I’ve found the approximate location of Stonehenge, or rather the analog. Perhaps fittingly, if the mysterious rock formation existed here, it would be found at awaited.passively.landings. That’s my best guess.”
“Await-a-what?” Angela asks.
“The traditional numerical coordinate system was abandoned centuries ago, in favor of a lexical geocoding algorithm.”
“A-lexa-what?” Angela presses.
“A unique series of three random words are designated for a given square on the map, which can be shared and pinpointed using proprietary mapping software,” she says, which is just about as confusing. “For instance, where the Olimpia happens to be parked right now, we’re located at clashing.thrill.ultra.”
Ramses shows a nonchalant sort of pouty face. “I did that on purpose,” he jokes.
Leona rolls her eyes “Well, each square is three meters wide, and the vehicle is sixteen meters long, so where you were sitting up there is closer to yawned.nephew.custard.”
“Yeah,” Ramses insists, “I love custard.”
“Where am I?” Mateo asks, stepping towards the seats.
“You’re at telegrams.patch.card.”
“Where’s that tree?” Angela offers, pointing out the window.
“Uh, I believe culprit.triads.enrolling.”
“Where is I.love.you?” Mateo asks, trying to be cute.
Leona tries it. She even substitutes the word eye for I. “Doesn’t exist; not all word permutations do.”
“Oh,” Mateo is sad. “Well, what about—”
“You heard Ramses,” Heath interrupts. “You three better get going so you’re not flying too late at night. No more time for games.”
“Well,” Leona goes on, “based on this system, my calculations, and your most fuel-efficient cruising speed, you should arrive in about eleven hours.”
“Are we landing on an island?” Marie asks her.
“Well, awaited.passively.landings is in the middle of the water, but that’s probably for the best, and there’s a resort not too far from there, where Heath has two rooms booked for you. In fact, it will be past sunset by the time you get there, so you might just wanna check in, and head for the coordinates in the morning. It’s only a few hours away in boat mode. I believe that the island is where the city of Bristol should be.”
“Did the island sink?” Heath guesses. “Is your Bristol at a particularly high elevation?”
“Not that I can remember,” Angela answers. “The higher elevations were in Scotland. They called them the highlands.”
“Why do we need a resort if we have this?” Ramses asks, indicating the whole of the Olimpia.
“You’re on vacation,” Heath reminds him. “Try not to stand out. Do normal things, like hiking, and museuming. I didn’t make reservations for you, but there’s also a bike tour that goes all around that island, if you’re interested.”
They discuss a few more details, but it really is time for them to leave, so they make their farewells, and break in half. The away team uses the road as a runway, instead of doing a true VTO, to save on fuel, and disappears into the horizon.

Tuesday, July 26, 2022

The Advancement of Mateo Matic: May 23, 2398

When Mateo and Leona Matic first arrived on the island on Thursday, they wanted to treat it like a real honeymoon, which means that they consummated their relationship like bright eyed twentysomethings who hadn’t lived and died a number of times together. Huge mistake that was Mateo’s stolen valor notwithstanding, they were having fun, and it took them a bit of time to realize why they were so in sync. Their faux wedding night was the first time they slept together since Mateo returned from the past. The reigning theory is that Mateo spent so much time in The Constant that he was able to absorb a certain amount of temporal energy. It was evidently not enough to give him even temporary teleportation powers, but his empathetic connection with the team is back. Well, at least he feels Leona’s emotions. She seemingly feels his because he was able to unwittingly share it with her. It probably won’t last, but they have it now, so they’re going to enjoy it.
They have also been enjoying all that Bermuda has to offer, including horseback riding, boating, and other water activities. They’ve done a lot already in only a few days, so right now, they’re just sitting on the beach, watching the calm of the waveless water. They’re just minding their own business when two men approach them from the side. One of them takes off his sunglasses, and the other does not.
The first one is obviously in charge. “Dominus Matic?”
Mateo clears his throat. The excitement surrounding his presence at the resort has died down, but anyway, they’re on Clearwater Beach, which is about 30 kilometers from the Sutton. No one should be looking for him here. “I am,” he answers regretfully.
“It is a pleasure to meet you, sir.” He reaches his hand out, forcing Mateo to stand up respectfully. “I’m Executor Ebraim Hardashev. This here is Premier Goran Peck.”
Mateo looks down at Leona in his periphery. She covertly and briefly drops her thumb down, indicating that those ranks fall below Dominus. “Happy to meet you two.”
“Listen, we were wondering if we could buy you a drink.”
“Umm...I’m here with my wife, and we have a day planned, so...”
“Oh, I understand,” Ebraim says with a nod. “But hey, if you change your mind, you’ll find us at this little nice place by the runway they call The Short Cut, not a click and a half from here. I’m sure you’ll love it. Lots of vets call it their second home away from home, as compared to this whole island, of course. Anyway, we’ll probably be there all night.”
“That’s a nice offer. I’ll consider it.”
Ebraim bows with his head, waves a short goodbye, and walks away. Goran, meanwhile, remains for a moment before turning away stoically without a word.
“You know you can’t go,” Leona says.
“Obviously.” That doesn’t mean this isn’t still a problem. If people all the way out here know who he’s lied about being, nowhere is safe. Who knew that traveling a thousand kilometers from the states would cause him more trouble than the exact center of it would? Maybe it will be okay. They’re going to leave tomorrow early afternoon, and then he’ll go speak with that forger himself about getting this all resolved. Military credentials are not worth the danger. Unfortunately, he may never get the chance to fix his mistake at all. He’s abducted from his bed in the middle of the night by four men.

Monday, July 25, 2022

The Advancement of Mateo Matic: May 22, 2398

Word spread throughout the resort that a military officer had arrived, placing Mateo in an awkward position. Now when he walks into a room, people applaud his valor, unaware that it was stolen. They’re not sure how the resort found out that he had military credentials, because he certainly didn’t advertise it when they requested a room, but it doesn’t matter now. The imaginary cat is out of the bag, and of course, being imaginary, it’s much more difficult to put it back in. The honeymooners are determined to stay out of the spotlight, which means signing up for activities on the other side of the island. They just hope the fake news hasn’t somehow circulated beyond the grounds.
“Why is this such a big deal? I mean, I know it can be a big deal, but they don’t know anything about me. They don’t know what I supposedly did.”
“It’s your rank,” Leona explains, still looking at the computer. “Dominus is a fairly high title. You’re theoretically responsible for about two thousand people.”
“Jesus. Why did that forger do that? I just thought we might need to steal some weapons from a military base. I don’t need to have this huge, complicated backstory.”
Leona spins her chair around. “You know why she did that. She probably thought she was doing you a favor, making you look like a big hero.”
Am I a hero?” Mateo questions.
“Looks like it. Your specific exploits are as classified as you would expect, but you have a few pretty major medals.”
“Two thousand people,” he echoes. “If even one of them comes forward...”
Leona turns back at the screen. “It doesn’t say which regiment you ran. But yeah, people here might expect you to tell them. I’m surprised, but glad, that no one has yet.” She shakes her head, trying to figure out how they’re going to get out of this. “Look, people like you’re pretending to be are often expected to look and act a certain way. That can cause us problems, but it can also work out in our favor. You can be the strong, silent type. Say few words. Don’t react too strongly to stimuli.”
“I shouldn’t pretend to be triggered by PTSD?”
“Absolutely not, Mateo, that would make it worse. You’re already far over the line. Just don’t give people any opportunity to ask too many questions. Now here’s the hard part; it’s really hot, but I can’t seem to find any evidence one way or another for what kind of tattoos you’re expected to bear. You’re going to have to cover up, just in case a savvy person walks by and wonders why you don’t have your district emblem on your shoulder, or whatever it may be.”
“Maybe we should just go.”
“That would make things worse too,” Leona warns. “Then people will wonder why you only stayed one night, and maybe they mention it on social media...”
“They could say something on social media now!”
“You’re right, which is why I’m calling Ramses, and asking him to make a visit to that forger. She put you in this mess, and she’s going to get you out of it, by whatever means necessary. If that means forging more documentation, or scrubbing the internet of your presence, then so be it. We’re going to have fun on this vacation, fraud or not.”
“Okay. In that case, which do you want to do first; snorkeling, or ziplining?”
“Neither. I’ve always wanted to go horseback riding.”