Showing posts with label restaurant. Show all posts
Showing posts with label restaurant. Show all posts

Friday, December 13, 2024

Microstory 2300: Millions of People

Generated by Google Gemini Advanced text-to-image AI software, powered by Imagen 3
The place was packed. In case you never found out, the event was catered, that was the surprise from the other day. A counter-serve vegetarian restaurant called Honeypea’s Harvest graciously donated tons of food and labor time for what’s certainly the largest reception I’ve ever been to. They actually started out in the Kansas City area, and their first location that wasn’t in the immediate region was Chicago, so they felt a kinship to us. Nick loved going there, I remember that, but I didn’t think to reach out to them. Our publicity firm did, and we’re very grateful for their assistance. We basically took over the entire Humankind Causeway Center, because we had the auditorium on one end, and then the ballroom for the reception on the other. You can see why I couldn’t tell you about it before, right? You say the word free, and people flock to you, whether they know what you’re giving away or not. There was a limited amount of space and food available, so we couldn’t let the whole world know. As for the service itself, it went pretty well. I told you that I was nervous, and having a full auditorium didn’t help with my nerves, but I pretended that they weren’t there, and that I was still practicing in front of the mirror. I got into a rhythm, and made it through to the other end. I want to thank all who attended, and everyone who logged in to watch the stream. Millions. Millions of people watched it live, and millions more have watched the recording since it ended. I can’t believe we ended up here. When I first met Dutch, he was just this cool guy without a care in the world. And when I met Nick, I honestly thought that he was a little nutty. He was shy, but not shy about telling us who he was, and where he came from. I grew to believe him, and it seems that a lot of you have too. I find it hard to imagine that this many people read his blog, especially now that he’s dead, when they just think it’s this dumb little fictional story. Dare I say most of you are believers? It’s crazy how far he’s come. Even though he’s gone, his legacy continues, through all of you, and through me. I’ll keep sending out posts as long as you keep reading them. I think he would appreciate that. In fact, I bet he would literally say, “I appreciate your support.”

Sunday, October 20, 2024

The Advancement of Mateo Matic: Year 1 EXT

Generated by Google Gemini Advanced text-to-image AI software, powered by Imagen 3
Since it was too risky to even attempt to use the quintessence drive again, Ramses engaged a short reframe burst to the planet where the signal was coming from. Once they arrived in orbit, they found there to be no lifesigns aboard the other ship. This wasn’t surprising as the design suggested it to be completely automated, meant to prepare the surface for habitation at a later date. It deployed dropships to begin construction on geodesic diamond domes, which was funny, because the atmosphere was fairly comparable to Earth’s. With only a minimal amount of bioengineering, any organic human should be able to survive unaided by external technologies. Leona posited that the onboard systems were not smart enough to realize this. They were programmed to build domes, and fill them with oxygenated air generated via electrolysis, so that was precisely what they were doing. It didn’t even seem to detect the Vellani Ambassador’s presence at all. So they just stayed out of its way.
Curious, the team hung out for the rest of the day until midnight central hit, staying invisible so they wouldn’t be seen by anyone else. The domes were completed by the time they returned to the timestream, and a second ship had arrived in the meantime. There could be people here now. “I’ll go down,” Olimpia volunteered.
“Just you?” Leona asked.
“Well, I wouldn’t dare go alone,” Olimpia clarified. “Perhaps Mateo could come with me for support? I believe that I can keep him invisible too, but taking any more may be too difficult.”
Leona sighed. “No one’s going down right now. Rambo, just keep an eye on the surface. Send an invisible probe, and gather some recon data for us. Pia, could I speak with you for a moment?”
When they were alone in the second pocket dimension, Olimpia spoke up rather defensively. “I know what you’re going to say, but this is how I contribute. I can’t dispatch and control probes, and I can’t mediate diplomatic discussions. I happen to be good at invisibility, so let me use that.”
“I don’t have a problem with you leaning on your strengths. I don’t have a problem at all. But I did want to speak with you about you and my husband.”
“What about us?”
“He told me what happened in the simulation.”
“I don’t know what he said—”
“He told me the truth,” Leona interrupted. “He told me that the two of you have been inching towards each other ever since you met, like a derelict satellite caught in a decaying orbit.”
“Okay, well I don’t know that I would describe it like that...”
“You’re right, because the satellite would just burn up in the atmosphere. And I don’t want that. The metaphor doesn’t work anyway, because it doesn’t account for me.”
“What are you saying?” Olimpia asked.
“Do you know who Serif is?”
“Yeah, she was a clay woman who came to life while you were living on Tribulation Island. She left to go save the multiverse from the Ochivari’s virus, or something.”
“She was carved from stone, not clay. She was more than only another member of our crew at the time. I was in love with her. I still am, to an extent. My brain contains memories of her that never took place. Mateo didn’t even have those fake memories, though, and when he disappeared from the timeline altogether, she and I only grew closer, because I couldn’t remember him either. When he came back...it was like falling in love with him all over again. And Serif was...sort of left out in the cold. Our three-person relationship didn’t work, because it was uneven.”
“I’m still not following.”
“There are six of us here, and we all love each other, in various ways. Angela and Marie are sisters who were once the same person. Mateo and Ramses are best friends. He and I are married. And you? You’re falling in love with him, if you haven’t already. I believe that he’s experiencing the same thing, at his own pace.”
“I’m not a homewrecker,” Olimpia argued.
“I know, and I don’t want you to be. None of us does. That’s why it’s a problem. Even if you push through it, ignore your feelings, and find someone else, this connection between you two will never go away. Instead of letting it be the way that it is, I propose a—shall we call it—an unconventional response. As I said, we all love each other, so I don’t think it’s completely impossible for you and me to...”
Olimpia shook her head slightly as Leona trailed off. “To what, fall in love with each other too? To save your marriage, and the team, you want to force a polyamory triangle?”
“Well, I don’t see it as being forced.”
“Are you even attracted to me?”
“Have you even seen a mirror before?”
Olimpia blushed a little. “This is weird.”
“I know, and it may blow up in our faces, but if we don’t try something, it definitely will. I don’t want one of us to become the next Serif. Nothing has happened between you two yet, so let’s go on this journey together. Let’s not keep secrets, and hide our true selves. You don’t have to come up with an excuse to spend time with him. You and I would be better suited for the ground mission. You have the invisibility, I have the brains. I didn’t mean to say it like that, I’m sorry. I know that sounds mean.”
“It’s fine,” Olimpia assured her. “I know I’m not stupid. I’m just uneducated, because whenever my teacher tried to ask me to respond to a query, I would give the answer several times in a row.”
Olimpia was the only one still wearing a Cassidy cuff, but still Leona would forget that this was because of her sonic echoing time affliction. She had a pretty good reason for her lack of life experiences. “Right, I get that.” She paused for a moment. “So. Are you willing to try this weird thing? It’s unusual, to say the least, but I don’t just want to be the jealous, resentful wife who denies my man’s desires because society has told me that only two people are allowed to be together at any one time.”
Olimpia reached up, and took a lock of Leona’s hair out from behind her ear to let it fall in front of it.
“What was that for?”
“So I could do this...” She reached up again, and tucked the hair back behind Leona’s ear, placing their faces close together as well. “Gut reaction, how did that feel? Uncomfortable? Awkward? Breathtaking?”
“Both B and C maybe,” Leona answered.
Olimpia giggled. “I suppose that people date each other all the time without knowing where it’s going. That’s the whole point of the dates. All we’re doing is agreeing that true love is the end goal, and admitting that if we don’t reach that goal, I’m gonna die alone. I’m a time traveler, and my options are limited. So if you and I can’t make it work, it probably means that the only reason I fell in love with Mateo is because, to me, he may as well be the last man on Earth.”
“So, that’s what we’ll do. We’ll take it slow, start with a first date; no sex.”
“No sex,” Olimpia agreed. “No sex...at all. If you really want to give this a shot, I think you two need to pretend like you’re not already together, just for a time.”
Leona nodded, considering the parameters. “I think that makes sense. Polyamory doesn’t work unless there’s mutuality. Without that, it just devolves into polygamy.”
“Yeah. So it’s settled. You and I will go down to check out the dome while Mateo sets up a romantic date for us.”
“Is that what we settled on, that he does all the work?”
“You and I had the hard conversation,” Olimpia reasoned. “Let him do something.”
The two of them called Mateo into the pocket to essentially have the same conversation all over again until he came to the same conclusion. It was definitely weird until he looked at it from the correct angle. They had to be active participants in this situation, rather than trying to let the chips fall where they may, and hoping that none of them flew up to hit someone in the eye. He had no problem with staying home to set up their first three-person date together while the womenfolk went off to figure out what was going on with the planet below.
Ramses agreed to help once he was clued into the new dynamic. “Dude, that’s great, man. Two ladies, I hear that’s kinda the dream.”
“It’s not like that,” Mateo argued.
“Bullshit. Ya know, you can appreciate someone for their mind, and their body at the same time.”
“What would you know about it?” Mateo asked.
“I still have sexual needs, I just choose to fulfill them on my own.”
“So, you’re not annoyed that I’ve found two special people, and you’ve not even found one?”
“Nah, it’s cool. Really. I’ve always been ultra-focused on my work. Creating something that does exactly what I want it to do is the closest thing to a relationship that I’ve ever needed. I might have thought twice about turning myself into a time traveler if I felt the compulsion to seek out a mate.” He stopped setting the plates down. “Ugh. This dimension is so bland. I can’t work with this. I think you need to have your date in a simulation.”
“No, it has to be a real place with real food,” Mateo contended. “If I just ask the computer to make something perfect, I’ll have done nothing.”
“Let me help.” Angela was in the doorway.
Mateo was worried. “Angie, I didn’t know you were in this pocket.”
“I was bored. And you forgot to switch off your comm disc again. We all heard everything.”
Mateo widened his eyes in horror. “Leona?”
It’s fine, love. Just locker room talk. It’s perfectly normal to have a conversation with your friends about someone you haven’t had sex with yet.
“Huh?” Ramses was as confused as Angela.
“We’re starting from scratch,” Mateo explained. He turned away to speak into his disc again. “Okay, I’ll see you two tonight. I won’t say I love you, because I don’t know you very well yet. Okay, love you, bye.” He tapped it off. “Dammit.”
“Aww,” Angela feigned fawning.
“Did you say you could help with something?” Mateo asked her, embarrassed.
“This new girl you’re seeing,” Angela joked, “called it four-dimensional holography. We all appear to have our own specialties, and mine is being able to generate images that last across time without me having to be focused on them. I can just set something up, and walk away, so I’m confident that I can make this room look like anything,” she said, looking around, and taking mental notes of a few ideas.
“Wow. That’s very exciting, and not the least bit concerning since I seem to be the only one who’s not particularly good at creating holograms in any special sort of way.”
“I don’t have a specialty either,” Ramses claimed.
“Are you kidding me?” Mateo asked. “You take our power, and replicate it in technology. This ship is invisible.”
“Yeah, well, I guess.”
“So, what were we thinking?” Angela asked, putting the conversation back on track. “Grand banquet hall? Kitschy theme restaurant? Low stakes fast-casual joint?”
Mateo thought through his options, which were apparently limitless. “Um. Let’s go with quaint small town bar and grill that used to be City Hall before they built the new one ten years ago.”
“I think I can make that work.” Angela began to throw up some holograms, adjusting bits and pieces here and there, taking in input from the two guys and her sister, until they had something as original as possible while still channeling photons from real places elsewhere in spacetime.
After Leona and Olimpia came back from their little mission, they showered, and showed up for the date. Marie served as their waiter, because she wanted to be a part of it too. She has a hypertime food synthesizer to make the food, but she elected to sit and wait to make it feel more real. The dinner was nice. They didn’t hold onto the ruse about being strangers on a blind date. They discussed their real lives, acknowledging that they were quite familiar with each other already. The whole team was there, with Ramses and Marie having their own meal together as friends. So they were able to hear the mission debrief too. A very young Bronach Oaksent was in the dome with none other than Elder Caverness. They were seemingly the only two people on the planet, besides the secret spies. They were currently calling it Ex-001, which Leona once mistakenly believed to be the seat of power for the Exin Empire. So it did exist, but instead of being the most important world, it was simply the first one to be settled. It made Mateo wonder, what would become of it thousands of years from now? Would it end up holding secrets that were just waiting to be exploited?
The meal was a success, which wasn’t surprising, because they were all friends, and there was nothing to fight about at the moment. As promised, it did not end in sex. In fact, Mateo retired to his own room in the second pocket dimension, as he would if this really were his first evening with a new prospect. They chose not to worry too much about what was happening on Ex-001, or how they would involve themselves. They couldn’t be sure how much would change during their interim year. As it turned out, quite a lot. There were now 147 new people living there.

Friday, September 27, 2024

Microstory 2245: Complaint to You

Generated by Google Gemini Advanced text-to-image AI software, powered by Imagen 3
I had lunch with my old friends today. It was my former assistant, who replaced me at the jail, and my former parole officer. At first, I thought that Leonard was being respectful by ordering a vegetarian meal, but as it turns out, I inspired him to become a vegetarian. I’m really happy about that, and I hope the trend continues, if only due to the fear of a prion disease. They ran a full investigation of the restaurant where I allegedly (I legally have to say it like that) ate contaminated meat, and they were unable to find evidence of further contamination. So you should be able to eat there again if you want, in case you were waiting for an answer regarding that problem. I guess I should have said something earlier. Anyway, the meal we had today was great, and I enjoyed the company. It was nice to be out in public again, even though men in suits were standing at the ready. I always wanted to be famous, but important—like a politician would be—is a different concept. Someone like that is a target. I did not want it to be like this. I knew there was a chance that I may end up with a stalker or two, but not that everyone I saw was a potential threat. People were staring, not only because it was me, but because I was clearly under protection. Fortunately, it didn’t get any worse than that. I’m not one to advertise my location, so it didn’t draw a big crowd, or anything, but I fear that this might start happening if the media begins to track my movements. Maybe I should just stay home all the time, and never show my face. That may sound like a complaint to you, but it doesn’t sound like one to me. There are worse ways to live, believe you me. Speaking of which, we still haven’t gotten word on whether my offer on the house has been approved. Even if it is, it will still take some time to complete all the paperwork, and whathaveyou. Until next week, goodbye.

Friday, August 23, 2024

Microstory 2220: Rule It

Generated by Google Gemini Advanced text-to-image AI software, powered by Imagen 2
We have more information now. The prion has been identified. It’s called Neurodegenerative Artiodactyl Acquired Prion Disease, and it is only passed to humans through tainted meat. And since there has only been one time when Nick ate meat of any kind in the last couple of decades, he knows exactly how it happened. He knows what restaurant he went to, he knows precisely what he ordered. He has all sorts of information about the incident. Now, I’m sure the restaurant will claim that it couldn’t possibly be from them, but there can be no denying it. Because even if you don’t believe that Nick was once immortal, and from another universe, you have zero evidence that he ate meat at any other place. That doesn’t mean that there’s going to be a lawsuit, I honestly don’t know, because this is just the beginning of this chapter of the story. At this time, I do not believe that he’s considering taking legal action against anyone, but that doesn’t mean he won’t change his mind in the future. As I’m only his lifecare assistant, I have nothing to do with the decision, but I wouldn’t rule it out. He’s preoccupied right now, but once we get back into a routine, he may start to develop some harsh feelings for who did this to him. At the very least, they need to open an investigation into that restaurant, and into whoever provides them their beef, as well as any other possible victims. He’s obviously not the only person who ate that steak. His would-be business partners ordered basically the same thing, so they could be sick too. I know that there was this whole other legal thing about them claiming that he defamed them. He never told you the name of that company in the first place, but because of all this, it may end up finally coming to light. Like I said, we’re still in the early stages. My job has not changed. It’s still my responsibility to make sure that my patient is safe and comfortable. I have found him a new therapist. She’s experienced with treating the terminally ill. Even though we didn’t learn the prognosis until yesterday, it was rather clear to the both of us—and probably most of his hospital staff—that he was not going to get better. It’s just that now it’s been confirmed. So she’s already ready to go, and will be available to meet with him next week. I’m hoping that she will be able to convince him to get back to his website. I think it would be really important for him to express his final thoughts, so people can continue to read it after he’s gone, and maybe learn from his experiences. As I told you yesterday, not a lot of people are even aware that prions exist, but they are a real danger to your health, and should not be dismissed just because they’re rare. They do happen.

Saturday, February 17, 2024

Starstruck: The Price of Doing Business (Part VII)

Generated by Google Gemini Advanced text-to-image AI software, powered by Imagen 2
Mirage stared at Honey for a moment. “You understand that I’m not human, right? I’m not going to die. When Lilac comes back into the timestream, I’ll be waiting.”
Honey shook her head, and sighed. “Your friend is not where you think she is.”
Mirage frowned, and darted her gaze back over to Ashlock, who held his hands up defensively. “Hey, I sent her to 2180, I promise.”
“He did,” Honey agreed. “My guy tracked her there, and sent her somewhere else. Don’t worry, she’s safe. All you need to do is hand me the stone, just as you promised.”
“Your prices are too high,” Mirage argued. “I took my business elsewhere. As a customer, I have the right to do that. You do not have a monopoly on time travel.”
“That may be,” Honey replied. “Why don’t you call the time police, and see what they say about it, hmm?” Time police didn’t exist. The closest equivalent was a prison that housed people who exposed the existence of time travelers to the general public. That was the only crime they cared about.
“I’m going to find her,” Mirage assured Honey. “The only question is whether I kill you to do it, or not.”
“I think you’ll find that my husband and I are more difficult to kill than we look.”
Mirage was more than willing to test that claim, and that was the problem. She was created to be a killer, but she transcended that when a man of good heart taught her how to overcome her own programming. What would he do in this situation? He wouldn’t kill them, she knew that much, and he wouldn’t approve of her doing it either. He would find a way, and not because he was any smarter than his opponent, but because he had friends. He always won, because he always had friends. It was his greatest strength. “You’re never getting this homestone.”
“Then you’re never getting home,” Honey spit right back.
Mirage turned to walk down the concourse in the opposite direction.
“Wheh,” Honey exclaimed. She looked down at the buzzer. “That there pager’s yourn. You go more than ten meters from it, or leave realtime with it, you’re gonna start to feel a lot of pain. Even your kind can feel pain. We may look dumb, but we’re in the business of knowing things. Do not underestimate us. Even if you can take the agony, can your friend? She’ll feel it too from where she is.”
Mirage grabbed the pager. “I’m going down there, though.”
“That’s quite all right,” Honey told her. “You know where to find me when you’re ready to talk again.”
“I’m sorry,” Ashlock said.
“It’s fine, Ashlock. Go home and get sober.” She walked down to the post office.
Obviously, this was unlike any regular post office. This was here to send messages across time and space. Only The Courier had any power here, and he could go anywhere he wanted. He was so powerful, in fact, that while Mirage was in the Gallery dimension, she could detect that he existed, but could gather no information about him. He wasn’t a choosing one, but a salmon, which meant that he answered to the mysterious powers that be, though there was reportedly some leeway with that. “Hi. Dropping off, or picking up?” He spoke in a genuinely polite voice, unlike the Travel Agents.
“Mr. Patton, do you do read receipts?” Mirage asked him.
“Ah, I believe I know where you’re going with this. You’re looking for someone.” Apparently, he was smart too.
“She’s been taken.”
“I see. Well, normally, no, but I will make an exception if I can verify your relationship. Do you have an undoctored photo of yourself with the recipient?”
“I do not. We just met.” She could synthesize one, and he probably wouldn’t be able to tell that it was fake, but she wanted to be honest. She needed him on her side.
“Then, I’m afraid—”
“Wait, yes, I do.” She was being an idiot. All of her conversations were being recorded. She switched her eyes to output mode, and projected a hologram of them eating lunch together at Allen and Richard’s restaurant. Well, Lilac was eating anyway.
“You two look happy,” Ennis noted.
“Please, I have to find her. I don’t know how I’m going to get to her while I’m lugging this thing around, but...” She showed him the pager.
“Oh, I can take care of that.” He took the pager from her briefly, and flipped it over. He mouthed the serial number on it, then handed it back, and stepped through a door. While he was gone, the pager started to blink lights, vibrate, and play a little melody. As he was walking back out, the melody stopped. A few seconds later, the buzzing stopped as well, but the lights kept going. “There. Your waiting period is over. Now you can do whatever you want with it. Give it back, destroy it...”
Mirage crushed it to death with her bare hand. “Why could you do that?”
“That’s my partner, Susan’s technology. We just loan it out to the Travel Agents.”
“You are as kind of a man as I’ve been told. Though, it seems out of character for you to include a pain feature in such a thing.”
Ennis was taken aback. “There’s no pain. No, if you go too far from it, it will just follow you, and if you travel too far with it, its activation will send you back to the agency. All I did was reroute it to Susan’s control block. Jesus, is that what they told you, that it would hurt? We may need to reassess our business relationship with them.”
“They really want this homestone.” She showed that to him as well.
“I suppose I understand the appeal, but it’s no excuse for their behavior.”
“So, will you help us reunite, me and Lilac?”
“Well, if what you say is true, that she’s been taken by someone, I’m worried than any message I attempt to send will simply be intercepted. My birds have been killed by those who did not like the messages we delivered.”
“Then can you just...take me to her? I know you have that ability. You deliver large and heavy packages, don’t you?”
“I never take anything organic,” Ennis said apologetically. “That is a rule I refuse to bend, and I will not explain why.”
Mirage cut into her lower arm, and peeled back the artificial skin that housed her non-organic android parts. The skin was alive, but she only used it to better blend in with regular people. “That’ll be fine.”
“I was wondering how you crushed that pager so easily.”
“Plus, my film projector eyes.”
“I thought that they were just advanced contact lenses.”  He inhaled deeply, and held it in for a long time. “Okay, I guess you are a walking exception, though I imagine you’re from a time when such a body is not surprising. I don’t want a bunch of other robots asking me for rides, so I would kindly ask you to not tell anyone how you got to where I’ll be delivering you.”
“I have no problem with that. I’ll erase it from my own memory, just to be safe.”
He smiled excitedly. “That’s cool.” He squinted as he was framing Mirage’s body with his hands.
She smiled, and crouched down to wrap her arms around her shins. “I can get pretty small, and I’m lighter than the androids you see in movies.”
“I never ask a lady her weight,” he quipped before he went over to the backroom to retrieve the appropriate box. He assembled it, and then she crawled inside. Yeah, there was plenty of room.
“You have enough to find her? It has to be when and where she went just after I last saw her ten or fifteen minutes ago.”
“I got you covered.” Ennis flipped the lids over, and taped them up. “And now I got you covered,” he joked. “But also, you’re about to not be covered. My non-organic rule is not just something I choose not to do. The way I move through time, it just doesn’t work. Your skin will...come off, like a damaged Terminator.”
“That’s fine. It’s inert,” Mirage explained.
“All right. Let me calculate the route, and then we’ll be on our way.”
She felt the box being lifted and carried away, and while it didn’t hurt, she also felt her skin shed off of her as she passed through the time vortex.
Moments later, the movement stopped. “What’s this?” an unfamiliar voice asked.
“Package for Lilac,” Ennis announced.
“I’ll sign for it,” the voice responded.
“No need to sign. Just be careful when you open it,” Ennis warned.
Before the man could start slicing through the tape, Mirage punched through the lid, and took hold of his throat. “Where’s Lilac?”
Eyes bulging, he turned them to point to her right.
“Mirage?” Lilac asked. “Is that you?”
“Losing my skin was the price of doing business,” Mirage explained. “I’ll be able to grow it back eventually.”
“I see. Well, I’m fine,” Lilac said “You can let him go.”
“What are we going to do with him then?” Mirage asked, still not letting go.
Lilac shrugged. “Let him leave. We’re where we need to be. I’ve been waiting for you for the last couple of days.”
Mirage gently set the man back down. “You better do what she says before I decide to override her decision. I don’t ever wanna see you again in my whole life, which should be about...forever.”
As he was running away, he waved his arm in front of him to create a black hole in the ground, which he jumped into, letting the hole close back up above him.
“He must be related to The Overseer.” Mirage emulated a sigh. “What year is it?”
“It’s 2183,” Lilac answered. “He jumped us a few years into the future to hide.”
Mirage nodded, and looked up and to the right to access her memory archives of the timeline. “Its 2183,” she echoed. “I know where to go. There ought to be a ship here that has everything we need, but I’m not entirely sure what it’s been through so far, because my knowledge of this time period may be quite literally outdated. It’s called The Elizabeth Warren, and no one else should need it at the moment. It’s not that fast, but it has stasis technology, and I could retrofit it. How would you like to see your son again?”
Lilac sighed too, but for real. “I think I’ve waited long enough.”
Mirage took her by the hand, and teleported them both to Panama.

Saturday, February 10, 2024

Starstruck: Back to the Future (Part VI)

Generated by Google Gemini Advanced text-to-image AI software, powered by Imagen 2
Mirage swam over to Lilac, who was scared and nervous, but not panicking yet. She hitched a ride when Niobe used the homestone to go from somewhere in the Goldilocks Corridor, back to her home on Verdemus. This couldn’t be Verdemus, because there were too many people, and too many houses by the shore, and also, Niobe was nowhere to be found. “Lilac. My name is Mirage. I’m going to explain everything, but first, you should know that both Niobe and your son, Aristotle are perfectly safe. They’re fine, and I’m going to get you back to them, okay?”
“Okay. Where are we?”
“Topeka, Kansas, 2036.”
“Niobe has never been to Topeka, Kansas, 2036.”
“I know. This is my homestone destination. For some reason, you were unable to exit the stone, so I activated it myself, hoping to get you out with a new trip. Think of it like rebooting a computer to clear out the memory.”
“Hey, are you two all right?” A dude in a tank top was standing on the edge of his boat, holding a paddle, apparently ready to pull them in if need be. It was April, so not a great time for swimming, but the day was rather warm.
“We’re cool, dawg!” Mirage replied.
He winced, but respected their personal bubbles.
“So, that could have deleted my file?” Lilac assumed. “It could have killed me?”
“Yes, I took a risk. It was probably fifty-fifty, but know this too, there is already a Lilac on Verdemus in 2341. She’s taking care of the kids. She either has not left to ultimately become you in her future, or she never will, because we’re in a new timeline.”
“Right. I don’t know much about how this stuff works, but I tried not to think about Past!Lilac. I just wanted to see my son again.”
“You will. It will take us 300 years to get there, but I will return you to him.”
“We should start by getting out of the water. I suppose it’s a coincidence, and that Maqsud Al-Amin isn’t here too?”
“No, sorry, it’s a coincidence.” Maqsud Al-Amin, also known as The Trotter, was capable of traveling profoundly vast distances from planet to planet. He found it easier to accomplish the task by starting in a sufficiently voluminous body of water. Sherwood Lake would do. Mirage didn’t know whether Lilac simply knew this about him, or if she had some other reason to suspect that he might be involved. She chose not to push it.
Lilac started to breaststroke towards the shore. “He’s Aristotle’s father.”
Oh, interesting. How come Mirage didn’t know this? She was losing her edge. Too much of the timeline must have changed since she left the Gallery Dimension to become a real girl. She would have to make peace with that.
They climbed out of the lake, and shook off a little. Some other people tried to hand them towels, but they were just going to air dry. They walked with each other up the road until they were hidden enough from view for Mirage to teleport them both away from here.
They landed in the middle of the concourse of the Salmon Civic Center, which was a secret hidden section of a building that only time travelers had access to. There was a bank, a post office, and even a weekend club, among other things. If you were a time traveler in need of help in the 21st century or later, and The Constant was inaccessible, for whatever reason, the SCC was the place to go. It existed on a secret subterranean floor underneath a strip mall on The Plaza. A man power walked up to them. “Good morning. My name is Konstantin Orlov. Do you require any immediate medical attention?”
Mirage looked over at Lilac, who replied with, “I’m fine.”
When Kostantin switched his gaze to Mirage, she replied, “I’m an android.”
“I see. Well, I’m here to help you navigate the Center, or try to help you with anything else you may need. Right now, it’s 11:24 Central Standard Time on April 13, 2036, in Kansas City, Missouri, United States of America, Earth. Have you ever been to the 2030s before?”
Mirage pointed. “I have, she hasn’t.”
“Do you have any questions about the current level of technology or cultural dynamics?”
“I’ve studied the history,” Lilac said dismissively.
“Great!” Kostantin exclaimed. “What is the specific nature of your visit today?”
“We need to get to the future,” Mirage began to explain. “Do you have any available time travelers, or access to stasis pods?”
He tilted his head to the side. “We do have a few pods, but they are currently in use. Unfortunately, we have been limited to only those few by, uhh...certain powerful forces. We are working on securing authorization for more, but I couldn’t tell you when that may happen. In the meantime, have you tried The Constant?”
“I would rather not involve The Concierge in this.” The Constant was like the Salmon Civic Center, but it was highly exclusive, and a hell of a lot older. Anyone who knew the SCC was here could get in, unless specifically banned. Even if you had once enjoyed the amenities and security of The Constant, you were not necessarily allowed to return. The rules were impossible to know. You just had to try, and hope for the best, but Mirage didn’t want to even try unless they had no other choice.
“I understand.” He had this polite customer service representative thing down. “In that case, you might want to speak with the Travel Agents. They will take down your information, and try to connect you with someone who might be able to jump you into the future. I must warn you, not everyone is met with a favorable transaction. Payment is often cost-prohibitive for people.” In the world of time travelers, cost was a far more complicated concept. They almost never dealt in such petty trivialities as fiat currency, or even precious gems or metals. It was sometimes a favor that the provider couldn’t do for themselves, and sometimes a sacrifice that didn’t technically need to be done, but the point was for the customer to lose something. For instance, if you loved your beautiful long hair, they may ask you to cut it all off. They didn’t need your hair, but if you really wanted their help, you had to be willing to part with it. Others just gave away their services for free, but when the Travel Agents were in play, there could be a middleman fee anyway.
“Thank you very much for your help, Kostya.” Mirage turned and led Lilac to the back corner. The Travel Agency was empty, except for an old man who was either sleeping or dead on the bench against the wall. Lilac rang the bell. A thirtysomething man in a blue sweater vest came up from the back with a Stepford smile. “Hello. I’m Romeo. My wife, Honey is finishing up something in the back. How can I help you?”
Honey and Romeo. Wow, okay. “I’m Mirage and Lilac. We came here from 2341 Verdemus. We need to return there to the exact same moment.”
“Okay, was that your first time traveling through time?” Romeo asked. “Perhaps you could find a homestone.”
“A homestone is how we got here,” Lilac answered before Mirage could stop her.
Romeo smirked. “Get out here, please, Honey!”
“What did I do?” Lilac whispered to Mirage.
“It’ll be okay. You just started the negotiation too high.”
“Negotiation?”
A woman who just looked like the feminine version of Romeo came around the corner. “What is it, dear? Oh, customers. I should have put my face on.”
“It’s fine,” Mirage assured her.
“Honey...” Romeo began, building anticipation. “They have a homestone.”
“Oh my, isn’t that wonderful? We just so happened to be in the market for one of those. Do you happen to have more than one?”
“Only the one,” Mirage replied a bit too hastily, which wasn’t necessary, since it was the truth.
“I’m afraid our rates are too high for only one stone. If you had another, we could talk about sending you where you need to go. Which would be where?”
“Verdemus in 2341,” Mirage repeated.
“I’ve never heard of a Verdemus. Is that a musical artist?” A common joke for this crowd, though not in so many words.
“Ya know what, don’t worry about it. Just get us to anytime on Earth in the 22nd century, and we’ll make our way to our final destination on our own.” That far in the future, they will have no problem finding stasis pods, or a ship. Hell, she could engineer her own ship and pod using the technology available in that time period.
“I’m afraid that that doesn’t change our rates. We’ll need one homestone per traveler. Two travelers, two—”
“We get it.” Mirage emulated a sigh. “One stone, one traveler. Get my friend here to this exact spot on November 22, 2260. I’ll go the long way ‘round, and meet up with her. Deal?”
The couple exchanged looks. They really wanted more than one homestone, but the only way for Mirage to procure a second one would be if the Travel Agents found them a time traveler, which would render the quest stupid and pointless, and they knew it. They nodded at each other simultaneously, then Romeo went on. “Give us a few hours to find the right traveler for your needs. You may wait over there, or go explore the Center.” He handed Lilac a buzz coaster while Honey started flipping through a rolling index of contacts. “Richard and Allen’s restaurant is open as well. I especially recommend the hadrosaurus burgers. I know what you’re thinking, but all dinosaur meat is lab-grown, and ethically sourced from still-living specimens in the appropriate prehistoric period.”
“Thanks.” Mirage didn’t eat, and Lilac wasn’t going to eat that.
“It’s Sunday, so the Salmonday Club is still open, though the portal to the Facsimile is closed.
“Thank you very much.”
“Oh, wait. Payment first.”
“No,” Mirage insisted. “Find us a ride first. If they charge for their services as well, we may need to reassess.”
“Very well.” They weren’t happy about this either, but they wanted the business.
The two of them left, and went over to the restaurant. Lilac was indeed hungry. This place was open all day and all night. It was actually technically two restaurants. A public-facing version was located on the other side of the barrier, and up a flight of stairs, between the Civic Center and the rest of the world. Regular people ate there all the time, and had no idea that they could be just meters away from a bunch of time travelers eating the same food. Or maybe they were eating different foods. The regular side served the standard fare. This side served literally anything, from anywhere in time and space, including apparently lab-grown dinosaurs.
“Mirage and Lilac?” a man behind them asked as they were sitting at their table, having finished eating a long time ago.
“Can we help you?”
“Garen Ashlock. A seer sent me here to find the Oasis and the Flower.”
Mirage was surprised, and she wasn’t easily surprised. “And you riddled that out to our real names?”
“I know who you are,” he clarified. “Do you need my help getting somewhen?”
Mirage looked behind him at the Travel Agency. “They didn’t call you?”
Ashlock looked over his shoulder. “Those creepos? No, they’re way overpriced.”
“We made a deal,” Lilac pointed out. “If we go with him instead, is that gonna cause us problems?”
Mirage scoffed. “I would like to see them make good on any consequences. Mister Ashlock, if you would be willing to get us both to at least 2260, we would be grateful.” That was the year humanity figured out how to travel at maximum relativistic speeds. The reframe engine was invented nearly fifteen years earlier, but the majority of civilization did not so much as know about it, so it was better to be safe than sorry. Lilac only had so much time in her life.
“Ooo. Unfortch, that’s too far,” Ashlock lamented. “My seer didn’t say anything about that. Why would they imply I needed to help you when I’m unable?”
“What’s your limit?
He grimaced. “It’s complicated. I don’t have a limit in terms of a solid number. It’s this complex algorithm involving my current state of health, including my age, how much I slept last night, how much I drank last night...”
“Give us a ballpark,” Mirage interrupted.
“Today feels like a gross day. That’s 144.”
“That will be far enough,” Mirage decided. “At that point, We’ll have everything we’ll need available to take us the rest of the way,” she explained to Lilac. “I could eventually make a stasis pod these days too, but closer is better, for safety and security. It would take me longer to procure the materials.”
Mirage and Lilac stood next to each other while Ashlock stood before them. He waved his hands around each other like an airbender, and then pushed his temporal energy forwards. Lilac’s body shrank to an infinitesimal point as it was thrown backwards. “Okay,” Mirage said. “Me next.”
“Uhh...that was supposed to be for the both of you,” he said quite nervously. “I don’t know why you’re still here.”
Honey walked over in her clackity high heels, sporting her eerie smile, and speaking with her fake politeness. “You entered into a verbal contract. You’re staying here until I get my homestone. Then you’ll go where I say you go...and by whose hand.”

Tuesday, February 6, 2024

Microstory 2077: A Break of Such Length

Generated by Google Bard text-to-image AI software, powered by Imagen 2
I don’t want this blog to only be about my job at the nursery, but that’s really all I have going on. I don’t have any hobbies or interests, not on this world, anyway. I suppose I’ll start to get more into gardening, won’t I? It might be weird if I do the same thing in my free time that I do for work, but that may be all I really have. Someday soon, though, I’ll be able to afford my own place, and with it, my own computer. Then I can get back into writing. Until then, I can only work with what I have. Speaking of work, today I was there for only a single shift, from 06:00 to 12:00, instead of all the way to closing at 19:00. That’s the normal duration of a workday around here. People tend to work six hours a day, five days a week. That adds up to only thirty hours per week, instead of the forty where I’m from. Plus, every business in this country—no matter how small—is required to pay for a half hour lunch. A break of such length is required to avoid mistreatment of employees, so it only made sense to the legislators to make that part of the wages. Some businesses are allowed to do it differently by paying half a person’s wage for a full hour lunch break, because it makes the timekeeping easier, but others have you clock back in after your official lunch is done, but then stay on break. That sounds more annoying, and doesn’t allow you to go anywhere for the whole time. The nursery is right on the edge of town, so there aren’t a whole lot of places nearby, but one restaurant serves a particularly eclectic set of dishes, so it’s easy to go there more than once without feeling like you’re eating the same thing every time. It’s a little expensive, but I always get the cheapest thing on the menu. Once I get my own place, I won’t have to worry about borrowing my landlord’s kitchen, so I’ll really try to start making my own lunch. We’ll see how that goes. I’m lazy, so I get tired of that sort of thing.

Saturday, September 16, 2023

Extremus: Year 57

Generated by Google Workspace Labs text-to-image AI software
Everything is back to normal. Tinaya snuck Lataran, Omega, and Valencia back into the Bridger section. She was able to repair and reconfigure the brain sharing machine to put the latter three back to how they were. Tinaya herself, however, did not put on one of the helmets. She left her brain in its new and improved state. Who needs school when all the knowledge you ever need can be downloaded into your memory cortex in a matter of moments? Omega and Valencia were not pleased with her decision, but there was nothing they could do about it. This technology was not legal, so pursuing the matter would necessarily endanger their own freedom and reputations. They decided to just drop it, and leave it be. The two of them went off to live their own immortal lives, and Lataran went back to school. She was behind, but as planned a long time ago, was able to start back up right where she left off. There is no age limit to education, so while the majority of the students were younger than her, she wasn’t the only one who had put it off. Some kids just aren’t ready for college until they’re older.
Tinaya is living her best life, at least for now. After all that time caring for the saplings, she’s taking a year off to focus on her own needs. She’s refusing to deal with Avelino or the Bridgers. She’s not stressing out about her lack of formal education, or her future. Captain, not the captain; whatever. She’s on holiday. There aren’t a lot of vacation spots on this ship, but they do exist. She frequents the Starsight Restaurant. It’s not what it sounds like. There are no real viewports on the ship. Well, there are, but they can’t be used while in transit. Traveling at these high speeds welcomes in a literally blinding light from the outside, which is known as the doppler glow. Instead, the walls, ceiling, and floor of the restaurant serve as giant holographic projection screens, making it feel as though the tables, chairs, and patrons are floating in space. Even the surface gravity is lowered to about 20 percent normal to enhance the immersive experience.
Tinaya also plays mini-golf, and destroys objects at the therapeutic rage room, but she spends most of her time at the spa and hotel. She sits in the hot tub, and swims in the pool. She gets massages, and she relaxes on the beach facsimile, which is very obviously not located by a real ocean, but it’s close enough to get the effect. It’s better, actually, because there aren’t any sand fleas or broken beer bottles to contend with. She’s not been at the spa in nearly two weeks, though, because it’s better to take breaks from her break, or it stops feeling special. She’s having trouble getting back in today. “What do you mean that I’m not currently allowed in?”
“It’s your contribution score, sir,” the desk attendant replies.
“My contribution score?” Tinaya spits. “I never check that thing. It’s always been fine; what’s changed?” Extremus doesn’t have any form of currency. Money need not be exchanged in order to enjoy amenities. But that doesn’t mean everything is completely free to everyone. One must be a productive member of society. A contribution score is a number that places a value on the amount of effort a resident of this ship exerts. It basically calculates how good of a person you are, and how much you deserve whatever you’re asking for. Going to school, getting a job, not committing crimes; these all add to your score, and not doing anything with one’s life can lower it. That appears to be what has happened to Tinaya.
“I’m sorry, sir; I don’t have full access to your background information. All it tells me is that you’re sitting at a score of 83, and that is below our threshold for enjoyment of our facilities. You are not permitted to reenter the premises until you reach a score of at least 140.”
“I don’t understand how it works. I’ve never worried about it. That’s something adults think about. But it’s my birthday, and I want to celebrate it. This used to be my favorite place to go, but that is quickly changing.”
“Oh, it’s your birthday?”
“Yeah, why?”
“I...I’m not so one hundred percent sure about it either. I have a regular job, and that sort of gets me a pretty high score, so I’ve never given it much thought but I do believe there’s an age thing. I can get my supervisor up here to discuss it.”
“Yeah, that would be great. Thanks.”
A couple has been waiting in line behind her. One of them mutters something under his breath.
“Excuse me, what did you just say?”
Neither one responds.
“Don’t be scared. Say it out loud. Say it to my face.”
“I said that you were a Karen.”
Tinaya is rageful for a second, but she quickly slips into embarrassment and shame. She is being a Karen, isn’t she? She still doesn’t know how her score works, but it should be no surprise that it’s gone down. She’s not done anything for the ship. Perhaps a year-long sabbatical wasn’t the best idea in the world.
He senses the transition of emotion in her face, and his own changes. “I’m sorry,” he says. “It’s not my place to judge. I know that I don’t know what you’re going through. I hope...you get your score back up.”
“Thank you.”
She’s about to leave when the desk attendant’s manager comes around. “I understand that you’re having an issue, sir?”
“Don’t worry about it,” Tinaya says. “It’s my fault.”
“I can help you,” he says comfortingly. “Why don’t you come into my office?”
“Okay.” She follows him into the back, and sits across from him.
He pulls her info up on the screen, which Tinaya can only see from a steep angle. “Okay, looks like you have a score of 83.”
“I thought that was all right.”
“It used to be pretty good for someone like you, but two things happened shipwide this year, and one thing happened in my industry. Number one, beginning on January the first, the maximum score was raised. The highest used to be 120, but it is now 216. Now, of course, everyone’s score was lifted to account for that. In fact, I believe there was a short clause in the new bill that gave most citizens the benefit of the doubt. So if you had a score of 108, you would end up with...” He plugs in the math. “...194.4, which they would have just bumped up to 195, because they don’t do fractions.”
“Okay...so now 83 is extremely low, but I was here two weeks ago, and there was no problem, so why wasn’t mine raised?”
“Because of the other two things,” he begins. “Last week, our internal policies changed. We now require a minimum contribution score of 140, which under our old policy, accounting for the new maximum possible score that the government came up with, was only 120. For a short window, yours was probably sitting at around 150, but it’s not your only issue. Your score would have been all right yesterday, however, it’s your birthday. It is, in fact, your twenty-third birthday, and on this ship, you no longer enjoy a boost in your contribution score from your parents. You are no longer in school, you do not hold a job, and you have been spending a lot of time at the spa. That has finally caught up to you. You should have been warned of this, and that is something that I could have done for you. I should have probably guessed that you presently do not have anyone else to help you through this. For my part in the lack of communication, and the misunderstanding, I apologize. I can point you to some resources that can help you raise your score. You could find a job, maybe you can go back to school.”
“I can’t go to school. I wasn’t accepted.”
The manager nods slowly. “I understand the awkward position that you’re in, Miss Leithe. Or rather I understand that I don’t understand. Word gets around, even to private citizens, like me. They say that you were gonna be a member of the crew, but something happened. It’s not my place to question it, and I certainly can’t help you get back to a place of honor. I might be able to find you a job, though. It’s not going to be particularly glamorous, but if you work hard, and you keep your head down, you’ll to 140, or at least close.”
“I don’t know...”
“As manager of this spa, I would be capable of making an exception if your score has improved enough, according to my own judgment. As long as you cleared it with your new supervisor, you could come back here, and take a rest. But staying for weeks at a time, several times a year, is probably a practice that is behind you.”
“It was never going to last forever. I’ve just been dealing with a lot, and I wanted to stop going so hard. We’re traveling at the speed of light, and I was trying to...slow down for once in my life.”
He chuckles, and spreads his arms demonstratively. “Look at where I’m workin’, Miss Leithe. Believe me, I understand slowin’ down.”
She nods appreciatively. “What would this job be?”
My sister works in the civilian government. She’s not someone you would have heard of, but her job is secretly important—”
“I don’t want secrets. I’m sick of secrets.”
“I just mean that she’s not famous. She’s not a politician; she’s a civil servant. She does good work, I think you’d like her. She’s too busy, and I can’t get her into this spa to relax, because there’s too much work to do. Though she won’t admit it, she needs an assistant. She’s entitled to one, but she’s never asked for it, and I’ve been pushing for it more than her superiors have because they don’t care about her like I do.”
“If you’ve already been trying to get her to get an assistant, what makes you think she’ll take me?”
“You’re a lost little puppy. She would consider it a favor that she’s giving to someone else, rather than something that she’s taking. I just have to frame the proposal the right way.”
Tinaya thinks about it for a moment. If it’s a low enough office, it won’t disqualify her from being Captain one day, and Second Lieutenant Velitchkov did say that they liked her for her ability to make her own choices. This is probably not written in the stars, which is exactly the kind of decision she ought to be making. Plus, it’s time to stop feeling sorry for herself, and actually do some good for the ship. The contribution is inherently rational, rather than arbitrary. “Okay. Could you set up an interview?”