Microstory 2484: The Renaissance

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If you even tangentially like the Renaissance, this is the dome for you. A lot of people seemingly mistake this as one big Faire that never ends, but it’s more complicated than that. It’s not really even a faire at all. Faires in the past have not only come and gone, but the actors involved are simply playing characters. They know what year it is, and they sometimes forget to take off their smartwatches. This is more like a form of time travel. The droid actors are fully immersed, and will be genuinely confused by any anachronisms that they might encounter. You are allowed to take personal technology in with you, but you are encouraged to keep it concealed as much as possible to protect the integrity of the experience. Unless you’re in the anachronism sector, where advanced tech is not only allowed, but prevalent. Other sectors have their own rules and restrictions, though there’s generally free movement between them. They’re not divided by unscalable walls, or anything, unless that’s the point of the story of that given area. The droids just believe that they are residents of the time periods, and don’t even know that they’re artificial. Do not—I repeat—do not try to disabuse them of their reality. With enough brute force, you can break their software, and force a repair, but that’s so disrespectful and destructive of you. And keep your kids in line, because they will do this. Humanity has a long history of trying to get its actors to break character, and it’s always been incredibly annoying. Just enjoy this place for what it is. There is a sector for everyone. If you want to be very authentic and historically accurate, you can find that. If you want it to lean more into the fantasy aspect, that’s available too. And like I said, there’s an anachronism sector, where people pretend to be alien space travelers, and time travelers, and whatever. I don’t personally care for that, but I’m okay with it existing. Just stay in your lane, so to speak.

This dome spends so many resources basically policing people’s movements. There are some areas you can’t go to if you’re wearing modern garments, because you’re also meant to cosplay as a typical member of society in that time period. Perhaps they should build walls, so you know exactly how far you can stray before you run into a different theme. For the most part, everything is pretty simple here, with the majority of the work going into measures that uphold the illusion of an isolated reality. There are some advanced aspects of it, though. For instance, there are a few dragons, which while fully mythical, are deeply tied to the historical culture and beliefs of the day. These dragons are not genetically engineered, because even though they could absolutely code the genome for something dragon-like, it would not be able to fly, because dragons break the laws of physics. Stop reading if you don’t want to know how the trick is performed. They’re just holograms. Conventional and totally normal aircraft fly around, usually in an array of synced drones, which project a holographic image of whatever flying beast its programmed to be at the time. They can generate heat, but not fire. That would be technologically possible, but also not safe enough, or they would have to require people come in here with certain types of substrates. As it stands, you can walk in as a normal human, and everything be safe enough, and I think they want to maintain that freedom. You shouldn’t want to be breathed on by a dragon, but if that’s you’re thing, I guess look for a VR simulation. This dome doesn’t always stick to pure historical accuracy, but it’s for leisure and education, not adventure, and certainly not danger.

Microstory 2478: Holidome

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Name a holiday; any holiday. Go on, I’ll wait. What did you pick? Now imagine what it’s like to celebrate that holiday. Now, go to Holidome, and you’ll find it there. Ramadan, Diwali, Carnival. It’s around here somewhere. They each live in their own little sectors, but there are some that are a little more spread out. Traditional Christmas in one region of Earth was observed in very different ways than in others, so those are separate. That way, you can be immersed in the version that you’re looking for. Honestly, I’m probably the wrong person to ask about any of this. Not only am I very young, but I was born on Castlebourne. I’m actually kind of a rarity so far. The majority of people who come aren’t here to plan families. They’re here to have fun, so they either come with their families, or they’re putting off procreating until later. My family has a long history of recognizing and appreciating other cultures, so that’s what they came here to do. A lot of that culture is gone from Earth. It wasn’t really anybody’s fault, it just sort of happened. Architecture converged into those megastructure arcologies. Creativity and identity made way for standardization and cross-compatibility. Why design a bunch of oddly-shaped trashcans, when you can design one model, and anyone who needs it knows that that one is perfect for their space, because everyone’s space is pretty much the same? These may seem like small things, and hardly relevant, but they’ve added up to major changes. It doesn’t matter where you’re from, or where your family is from. Your housing unit looks the same. You can decorate it, sure, but when we all live in virtual simulations, what’s the point? You might think, well doesn’t the culture just live on the servers? They can, but it can get drowned out by boundless imagination. In this world, people fart rainbows. Yeah, that’s fun, but there’s no history behind it. I suppose one day, we could end up living next to a community of Rainbow Farters of Erbikejifel, or some shit, but for now, it’s mostly only about novelty. Castlebourne doesn’t work like that. It exists in base reality, and it all has to fit within the limits of physics. You may be nostalgic for the days when you lit the Menorah with your family every year, or maybe you never did it, and you want to learn what it was like. I do get a little worried about cultural appropriation. People seem to think it’s a non-issue since—like I’ve been complaining about—those traditions have largely faded from real life—but I would just like to warn everyone to use caution. Those rituals held and hold great meaning to those who practice(d) them. It’s important that you be mindful of that, and stay respectful of why they participated in them. Nothing was arbitrary. I’m not trying to get you to not have any fun. Holi is a grand old time, for instance. Just don’t forget to learn about how it started, and who originally took part in such traditions. They didn’t just do it for your amusement. Except for Festivus. That really is just for fun.

Microstory 2460: Shmupdome

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This is a violent dome, which is why it has those restrictions where you’re not allowed to even step foot under the dome without a temporary substrate. You have some leeway when it comes to the characteristics of your body, but at any rate, your mind has to be able to be uploaded upon death. Even if you choose a body that is all but invincible, they make you take these precautions. I don’t know why I said all that. I guess I just know that some people ignore the prospectus info, and go straight to the reviews, so I want to do my part to make the rules clear. This is a shoot-em-up game, but in real life. There are different scenarios that you can play, and each has its own pros and cons. You might go in there totally unarmed in a sort of if I need a gun, I’ll take one situation. You might have weapons, but no ammunition. Hell, you could go in there with a bow and arrow if you find that an interesting challenge. There are limitations, but the guides will go over all that when you show up. Everyone gets a tap out button in case things get too intense. Some of the guns may look ancient, but they’re fully programmable. If someone in your area taps out, the system-controlled androids will freeze entirely, and everyone else’s gun will stop functioning. Even though you can’t really die permanently, you can allow yourself to feel pain, and you can’t turn that trait off at will. It may also just become overwhelming for someone, and they want it to stop. I didn’t actually see any issues, but I did hear some anecdotes, and I would like to take a second to urge you to respect other people’s needs. Everyone is unique, and you don’t know what others have been through. And it really doesn’t matter. If someone has to leave in the middle of the fight, just accept that, and don’t make them feel bad about themselves. This is supposed to be fun. It’s supposed to be fun for all involved, and if even one person is struggling to enjoy it, they should be able to get out of it without any ridicule or whispers. As I said, this is violent. And it’s something that you could never get away with on Earth, even though it has all the same quasi-immortality technology. Nearly all of the death that the human race and the vonearthans have experienced has happened on Earth. That’s just too much history. If you wanna know what it’s like to shoot your way out of a clothing factory, or a jungle, this is the place for you. I won’t list all the environments or scenarios that you can select, but obviously, if you’re done with one, you can choose another. If this is your thing, you’re not gonna get bored. Even if you exhaust all of the various locations, you won’t have done them all with the same weapons or vehicles, or at the same difficulty level, or with the same allies, or against the same opponents. Don’t come here if you don’t think you can take it, but if you do, and it turns out to be harder than you thought, don’t be afraid to tap out. That’s what the button is there for.

Microstory 2431: Melodome

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Don’t let the name fool ya if you’re interpreting the pun to be mellow + dome. It’s not about melodrama either. It’s the first part of the word melody + dome. This is all about music. Recording studios, concert halls, smaller stages, other interesting venues, and even sports stadiums where no one ever actually plays sports. This dome has it all. You can make music, listen to music, watch music. Every genre, every level of interaction; everything. No place like this exists on Earth. Even the cities known for music, like Havana and New Orleans, still had to leave space for regular living. This is the Music City, no matter what Nashville tries to tell you. There are some things that I’m not entirely sure about, unfortunately. When my great great grandparents were younger, they remember a trend where dead musicians were starting to be resurrected through holograms. This isn’t the kind of volumetric immersion that you’re used to in the present-day. It was very crude, and very obviously fake, even if you didn’t know that the subject wasn’t alive anymore. They recall being quite upset by this, not because it was macabre—which it is—but because it was disrespectful. These were real people who lived their lives, and then those lives ended. Before virtual immortality was invented, that was just what happened. These musical artists were immortal because of their legacy. That was what they were striving for, because they probably didn’t even guess at the future of life extension research. Their flame burned bright, but it was short, and that’s what was special about it. If you missed it, that was sad, but it was sad in a good way. The holograms robbed the industry of these artists’ authenticity, and sadly, that never went away. The technology kept improving, and the industry kept embracing it, despite pushback from the audience. There was evidently enough money in it, probably because of people’s morbid curiosity. Melodome has not shied away from this concept. They’ve brought the dead back to life using realistic androids. Not all of them are even dead, but living performers who just aren’t freaking on Castlebourne. I guess they signed away the rights to their likeness, but that doesn’t make it okay. I’m not going to name real names, but if John Doe can’t be here, then I shouldn’t be able to go to one of his concerts, and watch a convincing facsimile reenact his set from X number of years ago. I get that these are at least historically accurate shows, so they’re not merely contriving something entirely out of thin air. They justify it by saying that it’s like watching a recording, but I don’t consider that the same thing. There’s a lot of great things to see here. If you’re an artist, and you want a venue, they will find you one. I doubt the demand would ever surpass the supply. So if you’re a music fan who wants to discover someone new, you can do that. There’s always something going on, and it’s easy to find new acts on the dome’s prospectus, but there’s also this other side of it. They should really lean into the aspect of originality, because the reenactments are unethical at best. But maybe that’s just my point of view. You have to decide for yourself where your line is.

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

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Today is the day. It’s the final episode of the Rock Meetings. Once it’s over, the rest of the universe will be up-to-date on everything that happened to the reality representatives months ago. It’s been a frustrating experience, having to stay on a prison planet this whole time, but they’ve not been alone. Not only did a few of them forge new bonds with each other, across the proverbial aisle, but the whole group has stuck together. They’ve formed a support structure which will solidify their positive diplomatic relations moving forward, even more than the official discussions on the Vellani Ambassador ever could. There, they were coming at it from a sense of antagonism. Here, they’ve been free to be themselves, and just regular people. Cosette and Nuadu’s relationship has blossomed, as have Ayata’s with Andrei Orlov. No one’s getting married anytime soon, but things are going well. There’s a lingering question of how these relationships will hold up once they’re back where they belong. They’re literally from two different worlds. Will society allow them to be happy?

They’re all in one room now, in Andrei’s penthouse, just because it happens to be on top of the central tower of the building. If they need to meet at all, the typically choose here, and mostly only for this reason. This time, it’s for a watch party. It surprises them that it’s the finale, since the discussions were technically over in the last episode. The only part that the broadcast hasn’t shown yet are their goodbyes to each other. It was the whole thing. Everyone on that ship was required to shake hands with, or hug, everyone else. Which one a pair chose was at their discretion, but they had to do something to express cordiality and gratitude. Something along these lines had to be uttered as well, like thank you, or I respect your position. This finalization ceremony involved not only the handful of delegates with stake in the matter, but also the other related representatives, the crew of the host ship, and the mediators. It added up to 24 people in total, which resulted in 276 farewells. This alone would have made for a boring final episode, so that’s not all that’s happening on screen. While the farewells are going on in the background, final thoughts from the reps have been sprinkled in, through a mix of off-screen narration, and testimonial footage.

As the seek bar marker inches closer and closer to the end, it becomes apparent that Cosette’s words will be the ones to conclude the series. Ellie Underhill says one last bit about how happy she is to share her universe with the residents of the Sixth Key, and then the video transitions to Cosette sitting in the booth. The farewells are over, and it’s just her, smiling regally at the camera. The Cosette from the present day who is watching the playback doesn’t even recall what she is about to say here. “I think what we learned from these discussions is, not that we all have competing interests, but that our interests actually align. While each delegate came here to represent the interests of their own people, I believe we all realized that there is really no such thing. Each former reality was made up of a collection of individuals within communities within subcultures within larger cultures within worlds. No one has the right, nor the fundamental ability, to advocate on the behalf of everyone they care about, and only them. The only way to get anything done is to make the determination that all peoples deserve happiness and prosperity. When you only value what you have in comparison, or from the loss, of what others have, you end up with nothing of use, because you’ve lost the importance of working towards the greater good. There is nothing greater than all-inclusivity.

“I’ve heard a lot of people, in Delegation Hall, and from the public responses, saying that we’ve made progress, or sometimes that we’ve not made enough. But the truth is that the latter is closer to the truth, because we’ve not truly done anything yet. The true test will be in the implementation of our ideas, and the consequences that come from the social changes that we envision. It’s easy to talk about our ideals from a round table, and through interactive polls, but far more difficult to put in the work day in and day out. This is going to take time, and it’s an ongoing process, which will require tweaks, revisions, and a changing of the guard. I, for one, am excited about what comes next, but I’m not ready to call us a success. Maybe I never will.”

No one has ever heard these words before, except whoever was involved in the editing. As the cast and credits for this reality show roll, the delegates nod at Cosette. Nuadu pats her on the back. She doesn’t think that it’s that big of a deal In hindsight, she would have rather been given time to craft a more succinct answer to the Magnolia’s last question, but what’s done is done, and now it’s all done, and they can finally go home. Something else is happening, though. After the playback chevron marker reaches the far right end, it begins to spin. At first, it stays in place, rotating forwards, but then it begins to rotate backwards while moving back to the beginning of the seek bar. This is usually the graphic that runs when autoplay is on, and there’s another episode. But this shouldn’t be this case, as this is the finale. Or is it?

The Magical Memory Magnolia Tree that has taken the form of a man named Tamerlane Pryce appears on screen. He was part of the discussions, and responsible for recording and broadcasting them to the public, but he didn’t make very many appearances in the show. He wasn’t too involved in the negotiations either, since he considered himself an interested third party, and the supervisor. This must be some kind of bonus clip. It’s only a couple of minutes long. “That concludes season one of The Rock Talks. And now I present to you a sneak peak...of season two.”

“What the shit?” General Medley of the Seventh Stage exclaims.

A trailer for the second season begins to play, with the Magnolia as the narrator. “On a world...built for criminals and protected witnesses, a group of nine diplomats will find themselves trapped together in a prison of their own making. To protect the cosmos from a temporal paradox, they’ll sacrifice their normal daily lives as civilization moves on without them. They’ll have to learn to live together in paradise, unable to leave, but given all the tools they’ll need to live safely and insulated from outside influence while the greater population fights to protect their future from decisions made by the delegates in the past.”

This is all intercut with b-roll—including shots of the various worlds now crammed together in this half of the new universe—and quick out-of-context bits of dialogue. “I know how to raise an army,” Ingrid Alvarado of the Fifth Division says.

“You don’t know a damn thing,” General Medley says, making it look like he’s responding to Ingrid, even though those two comments were made weeks apart, and not even in each other’s company.

“I think I might possibly, in at least some ways, be falling for you,” Cosette says. While Nuadu’s back is to the camera, viewers can probably guess who she’s talking to.

More completely unfair, and highly edited, remarks are put on display for people to make assumptions about before the tree comes back. “Drama... Intrigue... Romance. Nothing will ever be the same. Season Two of The Rock Talks, coming September of 2449, only on MagnoliaTV.” The last thing is a live shot of the delegates. They’re all staring at the screen in shock. Andrei’s second-in-command, Selma Eriksen lifts her hand up, and begins to wave it around to make sure that—yep, this is definitely live.

Cosette stands up, and points to the invisible camera hidden somewhere by the screen. “Turn it off, now. End the feed.”

Maybe as a coincidence, or maybe out of obedience, the trailer ends, and the screen goes black. Ayata grabs the remote, and escapes from fullscreen. Comments from other viewers are flooding in. Everyone wants to know what’s going on, and whether this was planned, and if the subjects of this docuseries consented to more scrutiny. They did not. Cosette certainly doesn’t need her experiences on Hockstep to be broadcast for everyone to see. It is an invasion of privacy. They were all very personal, and she had no idea that she was being recorded. No one is above the law, not even a magical tree.

Cosette steps away from the group, and begins to talk into the aether. “I demand immediate audience with the Memory Magnolia. We need to talk about this season two bullshit right this instant.” She waits, but there’s no response. They don’t know if he’s listening to them right now, but probably. There’s a chance that he severed the connection, or it could be that he only turned it off for the nine of them. The rest of the universe could still be seeing all this happen in realtime for all they know. That’s why it’s such a violation. They have the right to know when they’re being watched, and when they’re safe and alone. Everyone has that right. It’s inalienable. “Answer me. Right now!” she insists.

No one else is trying the help, not because they’re apathetic to the situation, but because they trust her to handle it for them. The tree is mysterious and powerful. If he doesn’t want to respond, he’s not gonna respond, no matter how many people express their outrage at this travesty. Cosette continues to speak out, but nothing is happening.

“Maybe we should go to your pocket dimension?” Andrei suggests. He has spent a lot of time in Cosette and Ayata’s penthouse, in order to get to know the latter. “Do you think we’re safer there?”

“It’s not a bad guess,” Cosette replies, “but it’s probably pointless. I bet he can see us anywhere. He lives in another dimension himself. And he’s...a sentient tree. How do we argue with that? How do we fight it?”

“You don’t,” comes a voice from the entrance. It’s the Magnolia’s cohort, Princess Honeypea. “You also don’t need too.”

“Explain,” Cosette urges.

“That may have looked like the Pryce Tree, but it wasn’t him,” Princess Honeypea insisted. “We didn’t record you nine on this planet. It’s none of our business, and we wouldn’t dare risk the security of you, and everyone else living here. Another force is at play, and I promise to do everything in my power to get to the bottom of it.” She’s usually quite bubbly and delightful, but she’s very serious right now, and a bit unsettlingly stoic.

“What can we do?” Cosette asks. “How do we protect ourselves, and our pasts? Can we get this show cancelled?”

“At the moment, what you can all do is come with me,” Princess Honeypea offers. “Whoever is responsible for this, I assure you that they cannot reach you in the Garden Dimension. The tree will protect you.”

Cosette looks around the room to gauge everyone’s reactions. They don’t know what to make of this, but they seem to feel that Princess Honeypea’s idea is the only viable option. Cosette would have to agree. She looks back. “Okay, let’s go.”

They’re overwhelmed by technicolor lights, and spirited away to the Garden.

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Microstory 2203: Supported by Fans

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Okay, I’ve seen some weird stuff in my day, and I actually do believe in coincidence, because I’ve witnessed more variables than most people have, but this is so weird. It was extremely hot in my apartment when I woke up this morning. I was sweating through the sheets, and having trouble breathing. My air conditioning must have gone out pretty early for my thermostat to have been reading 26 degrees. The power seems to be okay. I placed a call with the super, so she’s been working through the problem. I didn’t think that it was too terribly urgent, because I was going to have to spend most of the day at work anyway. But guess what? The AC is out there too. It’s out across the entire jail. Fortunately, everyone in my team has been issued a laptop. When we’re at our respective workstations, we dock it so we can use the external IOs, but we can also carry them around if we would prefer to work elsewhere. The interesting thing about your world is that you’ve championed retractable power cables for your mobile devices. It makes the machine a little thicker, but this cable unit can be pretty easily removed if need be. If not, it makes for a quick getaway. Anyway, that’s not what’s important, because we would have made it work either way. The point of the story was that we were able to go to our Jail Counselor’s house to work there. It was a bit cramped with all of us together, but we’re very grateful for the option. The guests in the jail had no such choice. They spent extra time in communal areas, supported by fans, but all those people so close together made it so that it was more like two steps forward, one step back, at best. Now, I’m not here to discuss prison reform as a whole. Our mandate is to understand group dynamics, and nothing more. But it just goes to show how important it is to treat our incarcerated with respect and care. These people had nowhere to go. The county had plans in place to address it, but unlike you, who can just go to the movie theatre when things get rough, it’s vital to remember that some people have it rougher.

Microstory 2188: Trust in Other People

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Thank you for being patient with me yesterday. How easy it is for us to forget the lessons of our youth. I’ve been trying to take on too much work for one person, and it’s had a negative impact on my well-being so I need to learn to lean on others. Or rather, I need to relearn it, because I already figured it out during college. I was taking a class in the linguistics department called Semantics, but I wasn’t working very hard at it. I didn’t go to class unless a classmate was presenting—because I wanted to show them respect—or if there was a test. I was at a high risk of failing when I discovered that some of my classmates were regularly meeting for a study group. I’ve joked that the TV series Community was probably based on them. Lol, you don’t know what I’m talking about, but that would be really funny if it were true. I wouldn’t know, because I never attended the meetings. I wasn’t invited. They did let me use the study guide that they had curated for the open note exam at the end of the semester. I aced that test, and passed the class with a C. I didn’t learn much about semantics, but I did learn everything I needed to know about humanity. I learned to trust in other people’s expertise, and their efforts. People are basically good, and they’re just trying to do the right thing, so don’t assume the worst in them, or try to take advantage. Share knowledge, and help when you can. You never know when a friend will come in handy. I won’t ever forget that again.

Microstory 2185: Hierarchy is Required

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To add to what I was saying yesterday, I feel that it is my responsibility to respect people’s time. I wouldn’t want to block out an entire day for a doctor’s appointment, or an interview, because I have no choice but to wait for someone else to manage their own schedule. The Golden Rule tells me that if I wouldn’t want it to happen to me, I shouldn’t do it to someone else. You have that rule here too, which is nice. It’s kind of cheesy, but it works most of the time. There are some general exceptions, like the fact that most people don’t want to be told what to do, but that’s the dynamic of a boss-employee relationship, or a parent-child relationship, or the like. Some hierarchy is required, which is why I can’t be expected to travel to my candidates’ locations, for instance. They all need to come to me, or procure the software that I use for video chat. I’m not saying any of this because I had some problem with any of our candidates; I just want to express it, so you can gauge how I’m trying to do things differently than how I’ve experienced it from the other side. Without sharing any confidential details, the interviews went great today. Everyone was suited enough for the job enough to be hired, so I will have some hard decisions coming up. Some of you seem to be a little confused, because from what you hear, an employer will only interview a few people for a position, and that’s mostly true here, though I am trying to keep my horizons broadened to make sure that I find the absolute best applicant possible. You have to remember that I’m trying to fill thirteen positions for my team. So when I tell you that I interviewed seven people in the office today, they were for all different jobs. It’s going to take us several days just to get through any reasonable number, and only then can I make a decision on which to choose for each one. Okay, I can practically feel the legal department shaking its head at me, so I should stop talking about the process before I say something privileged. As always, no blog post until Monday. Have a great weekend, everybody.

Microstory 2184: A Commodity to Them

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We’re in a holding pattern right now. I’ve scheduled three in-person interviews for tomorrow, and one video call, but I expect there to be more by the time I proverbially clock out. I say I scheduled them, but that’s my assistant’s job. I blocked out a few chunks of my day, such as a meeting with my boss, and a half hour for lunch, but the rest of the day is open. She’s free to add any candidate that I’ve approved to any other time. That’s another chunk, though; time for me to look through a batch of candidates. I’m not going to pack them all in a short period of time, though. Have you ever been to a doctor’s office first thing in the morning, and they’re already behind, and you’re like, how is this possible, I should be the first one here! Well, that’s because that doctor is overbooking their schedule. They wanna get through it as fast as possible, because each patient equals mondo dolla bills, so the more they can see, the more money they can make. You’re just a commodity to them. I would never allow that, even if the math worked out the same for us. It’s about respect. Each candidate gets a block of forty-five minutes, though I suspect we’ll only talk for thirty. There’s a buffer of fifteen minutes until the top of the next hour for me to organize my notes, use the restroom, etc. It’s also there if they’re a little late, or there’s an issue with the security procedures. Speaking of which, I need to have a quick chat with them before I leave. Until tomorrow...

The Advancement of Mateo Matic: May 16, 2437

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Finding the Vellani Ambassador was easy. Mirage had programmed it to follow her wherever she went while invisible with a space-warping generator on the hull, but something must have undone that at some point, because it was out in the open, and available to the public. The locals of Ex-666 had never entered the ship, but it was not clear yet whether they had ever tried, or if they deliberately stayed out of it. Because they had begun to revere it as a religious icon.

The government was a little too busy to return Mirage’s ship to her right away, though they did want to respect her ownership over it. They just really had to worry about preparing to go to war. The team was busy too, helping them take control of the eye in the sky. It was surprisingly easy. They were worried that there was some kind of catch that would come back to bite them in the ass, but the Chief Ascendant was convinced that no escape attempts had been made in the last 150 years, which probably caused some level of complacency.

Not much had actually changed about the world over the course of the last year. The armada from Ex-182 was not yet here. Some of the so-called prisoners were former fleet members, who knew enough about the ships that the empire used to tell them that they were mostly powered by reframe engines. They had built their vessels to be quite large, however, and scaling of the technology came at a cost. While regular fusion reactions were perfectly suitable to make the engine work for a smaller ship, like the Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez, capital ships demanded too much power. Not even a larger fusion reactor could compensate for the loss. The only way they could get up to maximum reframe speeds was to use matter-antimatter reactions. No one here knew enough about it to understand why that was a problem these days, but Mirage did.

“It was us,” she shrugged.

“You stole their antimatter reserves?” Leona asked her.

“Far as I know, it’s still there,” Mirage began to explain, but it’s hard to get to. It exists as a fully formed antistar, sitting out there alone in the void. Getting close enough to it to extract only as much antimatter that they need when they need it is a delicate dance. My team and I were tasked with engineering a containment megastructure. We were on schedule to completing that mission when I was separated from them, and captured. I knew that it was going to happen, so I made arrangements to halt all production and construction. If they returned to the project themselves, it’s going to take them a hell of a long time. I scattered my barges in all directions. Just getting them back would probably take longer than starting over from a new source of raw material.”

“Why were you helping them in the first place?” Mateo questioned. “Did you not realize that you were working for the bad guys?”

“We suspected from the beginning,” Mirage replied. “But we weren’t sure, we weren’t sure what level of technology they had—though it could have been vast considering their remoteness from the Earthan stellar neighborhood—and also we felt bad. We were the ones who destroyed their first antistar. For reasons I still don’t fully understand, they maintained a link between this region of the Milky Way, and Alpha Centauri. That’s how we ended up this far out in the first place. We were just going to Toliman to pick up my ship, which I had programmed to build itself years prior. There was something very wrong with that whole star system, so we blew up our asteroid to prevent anyone else from trying to investigate, and that’s what destroyed the star. It and the antistar annihilated each other.”

Leona winced. “Toliman has not been destroyed.”

“No, it had to have,” Mirage insisted. “What else could have happened?”

“I don’t know,” Leona contended, “but if Alpha Centauri B didn’t exist in this day and age, I would have heard about it.”

“Someone must have gone back to fix it,” Mirage guessed, “maybe me.”

“I don’t know how you would do that,” Ramses said.

“I have some ideas,” Mirage responded. She looked forward again, and sighed. “Looks like they’re nearly done.”

While Mirage was in the sixth circle of hell, the natives had transformed the site of the Vellani Ambassador into a sacred one. They didn’t worship the ship, nor whoever may have brought it here, but they conceived stories about how it might one day open for them, and a great savior would step out of it to rescue them from their damnation. It was only hitting them now that this was their very first sign of religious doctrine in this sector of the galaxy. The team hadn’t even noticed before, because vonearthan culture had managed to transcend its superstitious origins, so religion wasn’t much of a thing anymore. But the Goldilocks Corridor was apparently seeded with life thousands of years ago, and many of the worlds were severely underdeveloped. So it seemed rather odd, not that some evil religious order wasn’t controlling the masses alongside the evil empire, but that no one on the planets they had been to so far had taken comfort in the mystical. Was this agnosticism enforced...or incidental?

The religious leadership was dismantling the decorations and offerings that had been placed on and around the ship.  Some of them believed that Mirage was indeed their savior, and that their belief that she would literally come out of the Hope Chariot, which was what the worshipers called it, was just a matter of detail.

Why didn’t you have them do this before?” Angela asked. “You could have left before.”

“I figured I would give them one more year with it,” Mirage answered. “I knew that you would need that whole time to come back, and that kind of waiting means little to me in the long-run. I’ve developed high patience. Now they’ve had time to say their goodbyes.”

“Did you explain that it was just a regular ship, and not god, or whatever it is they believe?” Olimpia asked her.

“I don’t know if they believe me. Some think I am indeed the savior they’ve been waiting for, and others think that I’m just the one who is going to unlock it so the true savior can be released from it. This is a prison world, and while they’ve thrived here, they have not forgotten that. So if there’s a god of Ex-666, perhaps they’re a prisoner too, and maybe they’re trapped in the...Hope Chariot. It would explain why this deity hasn’t saved them yet.”

They had an interesting way to express respect here, at least as far as the religious people went. They would stretch their arms out wide, dip their nose down towards the ground as low as possible, and balance themselves out by raising one leg behind them as high as possible. Only the elderly members no longer flamingoed, but they still airplaned their arms, and lowered their head into a regular bow. The younger ones made the move with the most enthusiasm, and they did not care if they fell over in the attempt. “Hmm, it’s basically Warrior 3,” Marie noted, having tried yoga in the afterlife simulation in the early 19th century, before it was cool in the western world on Earth.

The Elder Priestess was the last in line to pay her respects to Mirage and the team. She made no attempt to bow, but smiled as wide as Mona Lisa, and nodded. As she passed by, she placed a comforting hand on Mirage’s shoulder, and walked down the hill to join the rest of the main group, who were watching from there. A huge crowd had convened behind them to witness the magic. Not everyone in the world believed, but surely there were plenty here who just wanted to see what happened. Fortunately, they were in an open expanse in the desert, which fit the instructions for the Ambassador to avoid populated areas, so something like this wouldn’t happen. The settlements here only sprung out as a result of its sudden appearance.

Mirage lifted her hand, and said in reference, “allons-y.” She snapped her fingers, prompting the back hatch of the ship to engage and lower. To her surprise, someone actually did step out. It was a young woman, perhaps in her early- to mid-twenties. She was completely ready for this, coming into the light with confidence and self-assuredness. The crowd went wild. A lot of them dove to the ground in a full Downward Facing Dog bow of intense unwavering loyalty and faith. The woman walked right down the hill, and approached Mirage. “Do you recognize me?”

“Niobe. You’re older now. How long have you been in there?”

This was the girl who was with Maqsud Al-Amin and Lilac’s son, Aristotle. She was a slave-child on Ex-324, but she originated on the Extremus planet of Verdemus. She smirked, and looked over at the team. “A few minutes.” She winked.

“Why?” Mirage asked.

“These people need someone to follow. They’re never going to let go of their convictions, at least not until they win the war. The Chief Ascendant is going to continue to run the state, but they are transitioning from peacetime, and they are severely underestimating what that is going to do to their culture. Someone else needs to be there to guide them. Now, I’m not going to explain why I’m the best person for the job, but it has to do with what I’ve experienced since we last saw each other. Just know that this is the right thing to do, and I’m not going to abuse my power. If you would like to be sure of that, you can stand by my side, Mirage. This team needs your ship more than you do.”

“What about...”

“Ex-10?” Niobe guessed. “Let it go, he means nothing. Do not be fooled by his low numerical designation. It’s a trick. Everything that Oaksent does is a joke, a smokescreen, or a mistake. So, how about it? Are you with me?”

Mirage looked back at the crowd, and let out her signature emulated sigh. She switched her gaze to Leona, who had made herself look like the real Iman Vellani. “Leona’s Rules for Time Travel, Number Fourteen, do not form, or inspire, a religion.”

“Leona is just a person,” Niobe reasoned, “not a god.”

“Nor are we.”

“We won’t act like one,” Niobe continued. “We’re there to help. They understand where we come from, but you were about to open this ship, and I saw an opportunity. I won’t apologize for that. I really am trying to help. The Empire must fall, and while I have limits to what I’m willing to do to accomplish that, this does not cross the line. You have to decide where your line is.”

Mirage shook her head as she thought about it. “Give me the rest of the day.”

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Microstory 1995: Government Grade

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National Commander Apostle Virtue: Director Reese Parsons. Thank you for coming all the way out to the Palace. Ooo, cool tie. I trust you had a pleasant trip.

Director Reese Parsons: Yes, everything is great, Mr. Commander, sir.

Commander Virtue: Mr. Commander sir. Call me Apostle. We’re all friends here.

Special Investigator Eliot: Thank you for seeing us...Apostle.

Apostle: Hey! That’s Commander Virtue to you, or Mister Commander!

Hisham: I’m terribly sorry, sir—

Apostle: Ah, I’m just fuckin’ with ya. Lighten up, Hisham. You gotta be more like this guy. *rubs Reese’s shoulders aggressively*

Reese: *laughing nervously and uncomfortably* Very good, sir. Apostle, sir.

Apostle: *laughing confidently* I can’t tell you how great it is to have another man in your new position. The last administrator really went hog wild appointing all those women. Don’t get me wrong, I love Director Washington to death, but what’s a Commander gotta do to get a little testosterone in the room, you know what I mean?

Reese: I appreciate the appointment. I’m ready to do what I can to protect this country.

Apostle: I don’t care about that. And I don’t make directorship appointments. *mockingly* That’s too much of a unilateral decision. That’s how my lawyers say it. *scoffs* Hey, you two want a drink? You seem like a bourbon guy. I got the best stuff. And Hisham, maybe one of those colorful drinks with the umbrellas? Wadya say?

Hisham: Whatever you think is best, sir.

Apostle: You’ll take the bourbon too.

Hisham: Yes, sir.

Apostle: What did I say about lightening up? That goes for the both of you. Sit down and relax! Why do you think they put couches in the room?

Reese: Thank you, sir. So, I’ve brought the budget, as well as the transcripts from the interviews that Dr. Klement made with the Ochivari. I’ve had my experts draw up some plans to make sure we can insulate our planet as best we can from the alien threat, should a true invasion happen too, but I’m sure you already have people on that.

Apostle: Oh, all that can wait. Let’s just have a chat. Tell me about this bond you have with the convict. Does that mean you buttered her bread?

Reese: Uh, they prefer to be called freepersons. And I’m not sure what you mean.

Apostle: Did you make the devil dance? Did you put the carrot in the salad; hide your friend, the corporal; introduce her to—

Hisham: He means, did you have sex with her?

Apostle: Never. Interrupt me. This isn’t another lighten up joke; this is real. Never interrupt your commanding officer.

Hisham: Very sorry, sir.

Apostle: That’s all right.

Reese: To answer your question, sir, that’s not what the bond is about. They help each other lead productive lives, and keep from backsliding to their old ways.

Apostle: Sounds bor-ring! Let’s do shots. You wanna do shots? I also got government-grade reefer, if you’re more into that. Let’s live. You wanna live?

Microstory 1961: Alignment

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Reese: Is that everyone? Let’s see; one, two, three... Okay, we’re good. I understand that we all have a lot of work to do, but I think it’ll be worth it to take a few minutes for an alignment meeting to talk about what’s happening tomorrow. Some of you may have already heard that Director for the Office of Special Investigations, Lotte Washington is coming tomorrow for an inspection. I don’t want to scare you, but this is kind of a big deal. I’ve been told that she is here to inspect the remodel of our office space, and that it has nothing to do with us, but I think we all know that it’s not that simple, even if that really is the prime motivation. We will all be under a microscope tomorrow.

Yanna: Even you?

Reese: Especially me, as well as the other two main leaders here. Your behavior will reflect on us. Now, I’m not saying that any of you are behaving badly, but I do want to make sure that you’re extra careful in the hours leading up to her arrival, and obviously, while she’s here. Navin, I know that your naps have been cleared by medical, but is there any way that you could avoid them while she’s in the building?

Navin: If I can get a good idea of when she’ll come, I can be awake and alert for a sufficient amount of time. If there’s a lead team coming before her, that may be an issue.

Reese: There should be no lead team. She does not travel with a security contingency.

Celandine Robles: She may for this, though. Right or wrong, she may be uncomfortable around the freepersons, and feel compelled to take extra precautions.

Reese: That may be the case, but if it is, they’ll come with her, rather than ahead of time. Navin, we’ll make sure you get your rest, and take your medication, so you can be presentable with the time comes. That goes for all of you, you need to be presentable. We’ve been lax on the dress code, because I personally do not care, but when we have guests, you’ll need to be wearing nice clothes. Myka has agreed to visit your homes to take a look at your respective wardrobes. If need be, we’ll purchase one set of business casual for you. But only if you need it, and it will be a one time thing. Paychecks will start rolling in, and you should be good to go from then on out. Any other questions?

Henley Grahame: *raising her hand* Yes, I’ve been assigned to reception and switchboard, but we haven’t nailed down the procedures yet. I assume that mine will be the first face the Director sees tomorrow. I mean, I know how to greet people politely, but I’m worried there is some nuance that I’m going to miss, since it’ll be my first time.

Inge Flynn: Yours will not be the first face she sees. I’ve just been assigned internal security, and will be working with you at the front, at least for now. When Director Washington gets here, I’ll greet her in the parking garage, and escort her in. I’ll introduce you, but you won’t have to sign her in, or anything. If there’s blowback for us not having a badge printer yet, or really anything of that nature, I’ll take the heat.

Henley: Okay, I appreciate it.

Reese: Good questions, good answers. Anything else? [...] No? Cool. Like I said, this is a big deal. For most of you, there should be no reason to speak unless she or I ask you to. If she does indicate that you need to interact with her, of course do so respectfully, but don’t talk her ear off. Hopefully it will be quick and painless, and over quickly, and she’ll be pleased with what she sees. Until then, go on home early. We’ll see you tomorrow.

Extremus: Year 53

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Half a century ago, the original passengers and crew of the Transgalactic Ship Extremus began an intergalactic voyage across the galaxy, which was set to take 216 years. That wasn’t some random number that they came up with. That was how long it was going to take to reach the outer edge of the Milky Way. Well, only going for 215 years would have been fine, or all the way to 217, but they had to draw the line somewhere, and 216 was a nice number. Year 217 is, therefore, known as the first year in a new era. By then, the destination should be reached, and the descendants of the original people should be starting their new lives. If this is where Tinaya and Lataran are now, they have just traveled through time.

“Yes, you did jump through time,” Avelino confirms, “but not actually to the year 217. That’s what we call this place sometimes, because that is our primary focus. This is what we’re going to use to find the final destination.”

“Isn’t that what the Extremus itself is for?” Lataran questions.

“No. When the last generations of the generation ship reach the end of their mission, they will want to get off the ship, and start to build their new homes on the new world. They can’t do that if they don’t know where the new world is. There are hundreds of millions of habitable worlds out there, but we don’t know precisely where they are, or which one we’ll want to call home. So the Bridger section was sent a year ahead of time to scout. We’ll find it first. It may take us the whole year, but that should be enough time to get it done before everyone else arrives.” Avelino points back down the dark hallway. “You’ve just stepped through a portal between the two ships, which are a light year apart, and always will be.”

“But that doesn’t make any sense,” Tinaya points out. “Admiral Yenant changed course. We’re not going the same direction we were when this started. The assumption was always that you were parallel to us, at least for the people who knew that the Bridger section was an entirely separate ship in the first place. How can you be following us from in front of us?”

“Time travel,” Avelino says simply. “We’re not just a light year ahead. We’re a year ahead. That’s how the portal works. It doesn’t only jump through space; it jumps forward in time.”

“So that hallway goes back to September 5 2321, and this to September 5, 2321?”

“Correct,” Avelino agrees.

“Good. I can’t lose a year of school,” Lataran says in relief.

“You’ll have to lose time,” Avelino counters. “We need the two of you here, so you can take part in some...extracurricular training.”

“Spycraft?” Tinaya guesses.

Avelino smiles. “That’s why we chose you, Miss Leithe, Fifth of Ten, because sometimes you just...know things.”

“It’s called intelligence.”

He chuckles softly.

“You called me Fifth of Ten, as if I’m going to be a captain one day,” Tinaya began. “But that’s impossible. I didn’t get on the captain’s track. Or I didn’t stay on it, anyway. I was humiliated.”

“That’s why we didn’t take you out of school any earlier than we did. You’ve gone through enough of it that people will respect it once you do become captain. But we had to stop you from going to college, because you’re currently the perfect age to start your real training. The Extremus has never had a captain with the skills that you will possess when you begin your shift in 2337.”

“That’s not the end of Tamm’s shift,” Lataran contends.

Avelino frowns now. “It will be.”

“Okay, you exist a year in the future. That I can wrap my head around. But now you know things that won’t happen for another fifteen years? How do you have all of this intel? Do you have seers? Time machines? What?”

“That will all be part of your training while you’re on this side of the bridge.”

“Even if she agrees to this,” Lataran says, “I can’t. I have to get back to real, publicly visible, college.”

“You’ll have to defer.”

“I haven’t even finished out one year,” Lataran argues.

“I know,” Avelino acknowledges, “but the curriculum is not going to change by the time you return. Trust me, it will all be worked out. The people of the ship are gonna be a little confused, but officially, you had to take a break from school for personal and private reasons, and will be able to restart your studies right where you left off. If you had homework due tomorrow, you’ll turn it in two years from tomorrow.”

“Two years?” Tinaya exclaims. “Me, I understand, “but she has people who care about her. She can’t be away from them for that long.”

“Ours is a two-year program,” Avelino explains, “just like regular college. “I assure you that you have plenty of time. Like I said, your respective crew shifts won’t start until Year 68.”

“You’re acting like we don’t have any choice in the matter,” Tinaya decides.

“You do,” Avelino assures them. “We’re not monsters. We’ve just...never been rejected before. We choose our candidates very carefully.”

“Exactly how many students have walked the halls of your secret school on the secret ship in the future?”

“Not many,” Avelino answers. “It’s quite elite.”

Tinaya studies his face for a few moments. Lataran is about to speak when she notices this, knowing what Tinaya looks like when she’s trying to figure something out that someone doesn’t want her to know. “Bronach Oaksent was one of them. He’s a dark mark on your record.”

Avelino scoffs and shakes his head. “How the hell did you determine that? None of your predecessors knew that he was one of ours.”

“You’re telling us that the greatest threat this ship has ever seen once worked for you?” Lataran asks, horrified.

His head sank. “Oaksent was part of the program before the ships left. Before either ship left. We didn’t realize that he was a threat to us until the last second. He was...dangerous. We wish we hadn’t taught him anything. We wish we hadn’t shown him anything. So we left him behind. Somehow, he managed to change his name, and board the Extremus proper. We didn’t know until it was too late.”

“I always thought that was a fake name,” Tinaya says.

“Yeah, he adopted it from an insidious propagandist from ancient Earth history.”

“What a nutsack.”

Avelino nods, intending to shift the conversation back to the matter at hand. “I know this is a shock, but the time you spend here will be well worth it. You’ve never heard of this, not because the people we train are all anonymous, but because many of them are not. We know how to reintegrate our students. I’m sure you’ll miss your families, and they’ll miss you, but this is important. This is really important.”

“I wanna talk to him.”

“Him who?” Avelino asks.

“Yenant. I want to speak with Admiral Halan Yenant. He answered yes to The Question, didn’t he?”

Avelino sighs.

“What are you talking about?” Lataran doesn’t know the secret. “Yenant is dead.”

“We are not allowed to divulge who answered yes, and who answered no,” Avelino tries to explain. “Even if we could, we wouldn’t be able to allow crosstalk.”

She laughs. “You’ve told me that supposedly important people have gone to your secret college, but you’ve also told me that no captain has been made aware of it. It’s my understanding that there are more things that captains don’t know about the bridger section than the things they do know. If you want to have a captain in your pocket, and you think I’m the best for the job, then make an exception, and let me speak to Admiral Yenant. I know he’s alive, or you would be reacting differently to my demands.”

“How could he possibly be alive?” Lataran presses.

“You’ll see,” Tinaya tells her.

“No,” Avelino objects quickly. He pauses again and sighs. “I will log you into the system, but not her. We can explain it to her afterwards, but we cannot make a habit out of this. I will allow one exception, but not two, Miss Leithe. No captain is worth that.”

Tinaya gently closes her eyelids, and nods.

“Very well. Follow me.”

Lataran reaches out as Tinaya is walking away, but makes no attempt to hold her back. “Naya,” she whispers earnestly.

“Follow the lights, Miss Keen,” Avelino tells her without looking back. “They’ll lead you to your new cabin.”

Green lights begin to point down the other direction, but Lataran isn’t ready to go just yet. She secretly types out a quick message on her watch, and programs a beacon. She pops the memory card from it, and throws it all the way down the hallway that leads back to the Extremus proper. Then she heads for her cabin.

Tinaya makes her way there half an hour later. “Hey.”

“Did you speak to Yenant? Tell me about The Question.”

“The Question is just one part of a giant conspiracy that’s hanging over our ship like a dark cloud. There’s a lot I still don’t know, but it’s more than I thought before. This whole thing is being tailored. Free will is an illusion. The Bridger Section—Year 217—whatever they want to call it; it’s not just about finding the destination planet ahead of time. They control so much from here. No, I didn’t speak with Halan, but I never wanted to. I just wanted access so I can code a backdoor. Now I can get in anytime I want, as long as we stay here.” She points to the floor demonstratively.

“Is that wise? Is it safe?”

“Probably not.” But she has to do something. There’s too much power here. It goes against the spirit of the mission, and the purpose of the people’s journey. Tinaya thought she knew the big secret. She had no idea. She has to put a stop to it, and if that means getting in on the inside, then okay. “You can go home, but I have to do this.”

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