Microstory 2754: Starting Line

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Elise opens her eyes. She’s floating in artificial amniotic fluid. No, that’s not what it is, it doesn’t taste right. It tastes more...leafy? Like spinach that’s gone bad, or kale that hasn’t gone bad, because kale is the worst food God ever created. She’s trapped. She’s trapped in something opaque, which is not how body switching works. You’re supposed to be in a glass box, or in more advanced equipment, a clean and sterile pod. It’s not this, whatever this is. This is all wrong, and she’s panicking. She squirms around, looking for a way to escape, but doesn’t find it. She’s going to have to make her own.

She tries punching and she tries kicking, but neither of them work. That’s what makes her realize that this isn’t simply a pod. It’s a chrysalis. And that’s not how butterflies get out of their chrysalises. Elise feels around to make sure she knows where down is, and then she starts to spit. Opening her mouth amidst all this goo necessarily forces more goo back into her mouth. She thought it tasted bad before, but now it’s making its way down her throat. She starts to retch, and then she vomits. Even though it’s disgusting, the bile, saliva, and other fluids accelerate the mission.

The enzymes in Elise’s saliva weaken the chitin enough for her to tear through it. She can see light now, and feel the air. She vomits more so she can start breathing again. She continues to tear at the chrysalis until the opening is wide enough for her to get through. She tries to aim away from her own sick, but that’s stupid, because she’s already covered in filth. Elise reaches out to the floor with her hands, clumsily slipping on the fluids, but it slows her down enough to keep her from faceplanting.

She’s on her back now on the cool white floor of a small room. It’s not too small, though. It’s big enough to fit ten other chrysalises. Her whole team is here, plus the other team. Wait, there should be twelve in total, so who are we missing? She frantically starts knocking on the other chrysalises. “Jolanda? Rage? Is that you? Who’s in there?” she starts to say, looking for her people.

She can hear them moan back to her, but no one replies with words.

In the real world, with a real butterfly, you don’t want to help it get out of its chrysalis. The struggle is real, but it is not pointless. It’s a crucible, which strengthens the insect so it can literally spread its wings and fly. But they’re not in the real world, they’re in a simulation. It may be a base reality simulation, but it’s not natural. The others don’t need to go through what she just did. Elise stumbles over to a wall and wrenches a sconce from it. She starts tearing at the nearest chrysalis. Yeah, sometimes you gotta spit on that thing, but sometimes you need good old fashioned brute force.

A woman tumbles out of the chrysalis. It’s Miracle.

Elise catches her, and gently lowers her to the floor.

“Oh, thank you,” Miracle says. “I’ve forgotten what this feels like.”

“You’ve used this form factor before?” Elise has never even heard of it.

“Yeah, buncha times,” Miracle replies. As she’s resting on her hands behind her back, she looks around before her gaze returns to Elise. “You take left, I take right?”

They divide and conquer until the other nine hunters are free. Thankfully, all of Elise’s teammates are here. It’s Miracle who is missing one of hers. The girl she was trying to safely fly down to the ground, and who was wearing her shirt on backwards on the football pitch, is missing. Miracle says that she had an emergency mind transponder, which she probably used before she hit the ground. There was no way to know that they would survive it.

It’s different, though. Elise feels weak, and not just because she just had to force her way out of a chrysalis, and then help five other people do the same. Her vision isn’t as strong, her joints are achey, and she feels hunger in a way that she hasn’t since she was a kid, before she became immortal. This is a regular body, like the kind everyone had back in the days before humanity had even reached the longevity escape velocity. Her consciousness stream isn’t just unlinked. It doesn’t exist. There’s no backup plan now. If she dies, she truly dies, and she’s guessing the same goes for everyone else.

Once the last person is on his feet, the ceiling lifts up and to the side like the lid of a cardboard box, revealing only a dark void above them. It begins to rain once more, but this time, it’s just regular water, instead of acid. Well, it’s also a bit soapy. The room fills up around ten centimeters of water and suds before the drains open up and start to wash all the gunk and junk away. Next come the blowers to dry them off. They all just stand there and accept it, because there’s no door to exit, and they want to get cleaned off, even if at the end of this is, they get decapitated by a Jigsaw wannabe. They are here to play a game at any rate, and this appears to be the start of it, for whatever reason.

After they’re sufficiently dry, seams appear on the back wall. They slide upwards, revealing eleven chairs in front of eleven lockers. Each one is labeled with one of their names. The hunters proceed to their assigned lockers, retrieve the generic clothes that were placed there for them, and get dressed. But nothing happens after they’re done.

“I think we’re supposed to sit down to trigger the next phase,” Elise figures.

They follow her advice, and once that last butt hits that last seat, the wall in front of them transforms into a monitor.

A man appears on screen. “Hello, and welcome to Treasure Hunting Dome. My name is Hrockas Steward, and I own the planet of Castlebourne. Now, you may be wondering why I would record this message, and whether I do it for the other 69,814 domes presently in service. The answer is no. This is only for you. You twelve—forgive me, eleven—contestants have selected our Premium-Ultra Package. This is the rarest of hunts, which will take you on a journey few have traveled. In regular hunts, you would be out in the open, encountering Ambients who are simulating locals from various locales. You will not be doing this. You are on a special mission to find a unique prize.

“It’s important you understand that I am not admitting that such a prize exists. This is confirmation of absolutely nothing. You are being isolated from the other players so your hunt does not influence or interfere with anyone else. Everyone who expresses serious interest in this track experiences the same thing. Or do they? You may never know. You may not even survive. You have become decoupled from your consciousness streams so if you die along the way, your alternate selves will move on with their lives with no memories of these events. Even if you do find what you’re looking for, you might never be able to reveal its secrets. Thousands before you may have succeeded, but never returned to tell the tale. You will receive your next clue on the other side of this door.”

The seams of a door appear on the third wall.

“Oh, and one more thing. Those teams you worked so hard to build? They’re useless. Only one person can win this hunt. Good luck to one of you. Aaaaaaaaaand go!”

The door opens.

The Advancement of Mateo Matic: September 21, 2565

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Things were awkward and tense on Ramosus, though it was no one’s fault. It wasn’t even Romana’s, though she definitely felt like it was. They were in a holding pattern. Ramses believed he had successfully cleared all the corruption in her by flushing her system of all foreign bodies, but they still weren’t going on missions, even though they received two pings from the alert system. They were all saying it was because they were burnt out, but they just wanted to stay and support Romana. Yet that was exactly what she didn’t want. She didn’t want to be coddled or protected, because it just made her feel worse. She clearly had other things on her mind anyway.

Romana was brushing off their concern. She seemed to be more worried about Boyd at this point, which was fine. Mateo would be fine. Ramses had a lot of data on who he really was, and what separated him from any data corruption. Boyd, on the other hand, was a threat—to them, and to himself. She wasn’t even allowed to talk to him.

Mateo was in her room now to check on her. “Hey. I’m not gonna ask you how you’re doing.” He coolly sat down on her bed next to her. “Instead I’ll say...what’s up?”

“We have already talked,” Romana said. “We do not need to go over it all again.”

“That’s why I asked that question,” he pointed out. “You decide on the topic.”

“I wanna talk about those outstanding pings,” Romana decided. “You should go.”

“I’m not leaving you,” Mateo insisted. “Before you say anything, I know you don’t need to be cared for like a little baby, but I think you need to be distracted, and it’s easier to do that if the distraction is being created and controlled by someone else. If you spend all day dwelling on what happened—even unintentionally—it will eat away at you. You run the risk of it becoming part of your personality. You don’t want that, do you?”

“Guilt and regret are facts of life,” she responded. “They serve a necessary function. They prevent future potential mistakes. I don’t wanna dwell, but I don’t wanna forget either. I’m going to spend the appropriate amount of time reflecting on it.”

“I respect that,” Mateo admitted. “And if you really don’t want to do something with me, like play a boardgame, I won’t force it. But I still need to be here as an option, not off on some colony, helping aliens decide where to plant their grapes, or whatever.”

“Someone should respond to the pings,” Romana reasoned. “It might not be the problem of low-stakes garden design. It could be really serious.”

“No, that’s the actual problem,” Mateo explained. “It’s a grape conflict. They don’t know which side of the river is the best, and don’t have time to observe the seasons.”

“Why would the system flag that?” Romana questioned. “It doesn’t matter.”

“Because the computer calculated a high probability of it leading to what will initially appear to be a compromise by planting on both sides. But this grape species is high maintenance, so they will have to live in two separate communities. Years from now, the computer thinks it will start a war. It has apparently run a lot of simulations.”

Romana was annoyed. “So you should go. Why are we arguing about this?”

“That could take decades,” Mateo dismissed. “They will still be there a few days from now. I’m staying here. Again, we don’t have to do anything, but I’m not leaving.”

She sighed. “Yes, you are.” She reached up and slapped the back of his neck.

It stung. He tried to pull it out, but whatever it was burrowed into his skin.

“Boyd helped me build that. You won’t be able to return to Ramosus until you’ve completed whatever task you went there to do. This is my decision as navigator.”

He teleported into the on-base slingdrive, which powered up on its own, and sent him away, along with Ramses and Angela. A second trip took the other three.

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Microstory 2735: The Dead Do Die

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Sora gently takes Pribadium!One by the arm. “Wait, no. Don’t go out there.”

“I have to,” she explains. “I know what it is, but I have to see for myself.”

“Just have a robot go out to retrieve it for you,” he insists.

“There’s too much interference,” she claims. “That’s the whole problem. Organic eyes need to see it for us to know what happened, and what’s happening now.”

“Which is more likely?” Sora questions. “That there’s some kind of signal jammer between us and whatever’s out there, or that something there disables technology?”

Pribadium sighs. “I suppose that makes sense.” She pauses to think about it. “I will send a drone, and if we lose contact with that, we’ll cut our losses and move on.”

“I think that would be a much better idea,” he decides.

They don’t lose contact with the drone. It doesn’t have to get too close to the dimensional barrier. When it arrives, it shows that Pribadium!Two’s shuttle isn’t the only thing drifting around. All of the probes they dispatched prior to the manned mission are nearby. They’re all dead. The equipment is dead, the ship is dead, and Pribadium!Two is dead. She could not have possibly survived that; not in that body. The shuttle is entirely twisted—no, it’s unraveled, like peeling a citrus fruit in one single cut.

Pribadium!One—or should she just go by Pribadium now?—pulls up her privileged vault. Vonearthans share knowledge in a series of databases collectively known as the central archives. Since time travel isn’t common knowledge, travelers keep their own records on special drives that only they can access. It’s vital to keep this information separate and protected. “I think I’ve seen this before.” She stops, because she doesn’t know what to search for. “What was it? Corkscrew? Coil? No, spiral.” She runs the search, and pulls up the lone entry. “Spiral Station. It doesn’t say why they designed it that way. It doesn’t even say what it’s for. But this must be why. It must have been unraveled by quintessence. Whoever these people are, they have bulk tech.”

“You don’t know who they are?” Sora asks. “Your database doesn’t say anything?”

“It only observes that it exists, and knows the name. It says nothing else.”

“But if it’s operational then maybe she survived her unraveling,” Sora offers.

“That thing was gigantic,” Pribadium explains. “If people survived, it’s because there was enough room in the empty interior spaces. The shuttle was far too small.”

“Okay, so what about her back-up? I know where your body library is, so let’s go and bring her back online. That’s the whole point of that place.”

Pribadium sighs. “I would have gotten an alert that her mind was transmitted back to us. Something went terribly wrong out there. The drone is gathering data, which we will synthesize. She didn’t die for nothing, I’ll tell you that.”

“No. Even if she wasn’t streaming until the very last second, she would still have a back-up, because she was streaming any number of seconds prior to that,” he reasons.

“That’s not what she wants. I know, because she was me. The stream must end at the same millisecond of death. If there is any gap, it’s not really her. It’s only a very convincing copy.” The only hope they have of getting her back is if she managed to survive it, and ends up in Fort Underhill. That won’t happen for some time, though. She will go to the afterlife simulation first, and Pribadium doesn’t have access to that system. “Trust me, I know myself. Our personal protocol is to destroy all lingering IDCode.”

“I refuse to accept that.” Sora runs off. Towards the substrate library.

Microstory 2733: The Cost of a Life

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The Pribadiums have been hard at work for the last three days. They have been performing, checking, and rechecking calculations. They have been running simulation after simulation after simulation. They have sent probes out to scan, analyze, and synthesize. And now they have a better picture of their situation. The first probes told them how expansive the pocket dimension bubble was. These more recent probes are telling them how big it is now, and those figures are not the same. It’s shrinking. At this rate, the window of opportunity will close by the end of the week. Well, they wanted to know their time constraints, and now they have them. That is only part of the puzzle, though. What happens to people and objects who pass back out?

Or are they passing through the dimensional barrier at all? Their intuition suggests that they are, because the Pribadiums are losing contact with the probes, but that doesn’t mean they’re slipping safely through. It might be vaporizing them, shunting them somewhere else, or simply generating too much interference to maintain the connection. Someone is going to have to go out there and gather more information.

“I volunteer as tribute,” Sora says.

Pribadium!One chuckles. “That won’t be necessary. We’ll flip a coin.”

“I’m serious,” Sora insists. “If something happens to me, it’s no big deal. I only have maybe a hundred years left in this universe anyway. If one of you dies, you’re losing eternity. Besides, you’re more valuable than I am. Really, I wanna do this.”

“Well, if we’re going by a simple value analysis, we have an excess of Pribadiums,” Pribadium!Two says. “If I go, my alternate is still here, and we’ve not lost anything.”

Pribadium!One rolls her eyes at her alternate self, and doesn’t validate her words. She faces Sora. “This wouldn’t happen to have anything to do with Elke, would it?”

“Elke?” Sora asks. “I told you, I’ve moved past that. You telling me what happens when you die has given me closure. That’s why it doesn’t scare me to do this, because I know whatever happens, I’ll survive. I didn’t realize I was digitized, and I’ve been grumpy about it, but we might as well take advantage. It sounds like you can’t come back, or dead people would be doing it all the time. So you should stay.” He looks at Pribadium!Two. “Both of you. Two heads are better than one if they’re both you, right?”

“I’m the one who said that,” Pribadium!One reminds him.

“Same result,” Sora reasons. “And anyway, death isn’t a guarantee. It’s a test.”

Pribadium!Two shakes her head. “Survival is what is not guaranteed. The afterlife simulation is based on a certain set of criteria. In order for your consciousness to be transmitted to it, you have to both originate from the main sequence, and be in the main sequence. I’m guessing you qualify for the former, but not necessarily the latter. That’s one thing we would be testing out there with this manned mission. The bottom line is that you may not end up in the sim, or in Fort Underhill. The risk is real.”

“Again, that is how I have always lived,” Sora explains. “I never thought I was going to live forever. There is a freedom in that which you have either forgotten, or are too young to remember. I’m part of a long history of doomed souls. I’m proud of that.”

Pribadium!Two nods. She pulls down her pants and removes a teleporter dartgun from a flap of skin on her hip.

“You always had that?” Pribadium!One was surprised. “You could have escaped.”

“Yes,” Pribadium!Two confirms. “But he won’t be able to.” She shoots him.

Microstory 2732: Tree of Thought

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Pribadium gives Sora a go in the equilibrium chamber. He likes it because anyone can use it, whether they have been biologically or technologically enhanced, or not. It doesn’t even have to be alive. Bulk forces act on every object with the force equal to its mass. This allows everything to stay in place unless moved by some other force. Sora places his cup of tea in front of him and to the side, as if there were a table there, and it stays. Gravity doesn’t exist here, atmospheric pressure doesn’t either. It doesn’t move until he reaches back for it. He even leaves it upside down, and it’s fine. He says that he forgot to have fun. Elke’s arrival, while it sparked love in him, was filled with so much anxiety and longing that he stopped enjoying daily life. He spent all of his time focused on her, both before and after her death. He can barely recall what his hobbies were. He would have loved to play in an equilibrium chamber back then, probably. Since he’s no scientist, he goes off to another area of the outpost to find his bliss.

Pribadium!One and Pribadium!Two, meanwhile, have work to get through. Their mission is to pull this small pocket of space out of the universe entirely, and let it exist as its own miniature universe. Once there, they will be able to travel to other branes, just like The Crossover or Zoey Attar. They will be able to adjust their own laws of physics, and explore new worlds. They will break new ground. Neither of them has ever done this before, but Pribadium!Two has more experience. She offered to transmit the memories and knowledge into Pribadium!One’s brain, but the latter declined. She wants to be herself, and not mix each other together.

“No, that’s not gonna work,” Pribadium!Two warns over her shoulder.

Pribadium!One sighs. “I’m starting an arboreal progression. I’ve not yet gotten to the pruning stage. Do you not remember how we work? How much have you changed?”

“No, I remember the arboreal technique. I just didn’t think you needed to start with a seed, since I already have a ton of hard data over here,” Pribadium!Two argues.

“Yes, I saw your data, but you were mostly looking at it from the main sequence. Now we’re in the new parallel. We have to start from scratch. We can compare notes later. But that won’t be until after my tree grows, after I prune it, and after I climb it.”

“After we climb it,” Pribadium!Two tries to correct.

“No, I want to climb it myself. It’s not that I don’t trust you, it’s that I’m trying to keep my work contained and isolated, so it stands up to future testing. I don’t want to be biased by your research. The very basis of science is reproducible results. If I can’t reproduce them without looking at your results first, they won’t hold up. In fact, why don’t you go down to the aux lab, so we don’t even occupy the same space.”

“Why would I go to the aux lab? I’m the one who needs the main servers for the simulations. You’re still a seedling!” Pribadium!Two contends

“Oh, the servers down there are fine,” Pribadium!One reasons dismissively.

Pribadium!Two shakes her head. “No, I have been upgrading the primaries.”

“You have?” Pribadium!One pushes her alt self aside to check her workstation. “Goddammit, I didn’t give you permission to make changes. Now I’ll need to reconfigure all of my preferences. Just because you technically have credentials, doesn’t mean you should use them. This is my lab. Yours is in another reality. Please respect that.”

“I suppose we need to come up with some ground rules before we proceed.”

“I suppose we do,” Pribadium!One agrees.

Microstory 2731: The Choices We Make

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Pribadium!Two offered to explain to Sora what happened to his alternate self, but he decided that he didn’t want to hear it, at least not right now. They all three split apart, and went to their separate corners. They need to decompress from everything going on, and process all the new information. If they miss their window to create a mobile pocket universe, then so be it. It was never going to be an instantaneous endeavor, and it’s prudent to wait a bit anyway. This is a huge undertaking, which will have massive ramifications in this universe, and who knows how many others?

Pribadium!One is lying in her equilibrium chamber now, thinking about Sora. When they first met, he was a clear opponent. She was trying to get him to calm down and see reason, but she never thought she would feel bad for him like this. The story he told about his crush on Proxima Doma was heartbreaking. She teased him with the chance to get some closure, and then about immediately took it away from him. It wasn’t fair, and she’s going to have to figure out a way to apologize for it, besides simply literally saying the words. He obviously needs some space right now, though.

A door alert. It’s Sora. When she commands the AI to open the door, he walks in. “Sorry, I didn’t know you were sleeping. I can come back later.”

“No, it’s okay.” Pribadium!One stands up and hangs there mid-air.

His eyes widen. “How are you doing that? I thought antigravity was impossible.”

She lowers her legs one by one like she is climbing down a ladder, towards what’s considered down. “It’s not really antigravity, per se. Though, I suppose we could make that happen too if I figure out how to contain quintessence. I have some friends who built a machine that uses it, but it was awkward between us, so I never got the chance to study it in depth. Anyway, no, this is an equilibrium chamber. Another friend of mine developed it, and now they use it extensively on Varkas Reflex. People stay in simulated environments for years on end. This perfectly distributes the pressure on your body, so you don’t suffer the negative health effects of extended immobility.”

Sora stares at the apparatus, curious enough, but obviously not really thinking about it. Their goals are unaligned, and one of them might have to relent one day.

It’s not just about him, though. He’s not the only person they have to worry about. Thousands of colonists who just so happened to be on this side of the host star have the right to decide what to do with their own lives too. She’s just glad that most people escaped the bubble. She placed her lab away from the activity even though it placed her in the line of fire of the upcoming obliteration blast, because she knows exactly when it will arrive, and has ways of avoiding it. Now that doesn’t matter anymore. “Did you want to talk about something?” she asks as she’s stepping out.

“I don’t need to talk to Elke,” he answers. “Before you say anything, I realized that she made her choice. Whatever her reasons, I wasn’t worth sticking around for. We knew each other for years. Her suicide took years, but she never gave up. If she survived it—if she didn’t end up killing herself again on the other side, then that still has nothing to do with me. It never did. So you two go ahead and do whatever you need to do with the weird universe thing. I’m not much help, but I’ll be here. I’ll support you.”

“This wouldn’t happen to have anything to do with what she said about us?”

“About how we were together in another timeline? No. This is my choice.”

“Okay,” Pribadium!One says. “I’ll speak to my alternate self in the morning.”

The Advancement of Mateo Matic: September 20, 2564

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Time was weird in Romana’s simulation. Ramses and Leona worked the problem for the better part of three days before they were able to get Mateo and Boyd out of there. And they did get Boyd out of there too. They didn’t have a physical body for him to inhabit, since they didn’t know his wishes, but they moved his IDCode to a new server, and isolated him from Romana’s original system. They then ran a bunch of diagnostics on him, and medical tests on Mateo, to determine whether there were any lingering risks associated with them having been trapped in there.

Romana was devastated, but otherwise all right. Beyond her artificial implants, she wasn’t presenting any other signs or symptoms. She appeared to be physically and neurologically healthy. Still, Ramses extracted the implants, and flushed her of any dangerous foreign bodies. It was a relatively simple procedure, because it was one of the first things immersive VR researchers came up with, under the concern that something like this could happen. The only reason they didn’t do that earlier was because of her visitors. She was not saying much, save for apologizing profusely. It wasn’t her fault.

Mateo was pissed. Someone did this to her. It could not have simply happened incidentally. Glitches did happen, of course, but there was too much intent from the monsters. They were far too organized and driven. Of course, Mateo still didn’t know what they would have done if they had caught up to the humans, because they didn’t give them the chance, but they certainly weren’t trying to say hello, and they weren’t random. When he found whoever was responsible, they were gonna wish they had targeted someone else.

“That may not be what happened,” Leona said. “It may not have been an attack.”

“You didn’t see them,” Mateo argued. “They were absolutely relentless. Boyd and I literally had to keep running. Thank God I was able to shut off some of my bio-responses, or I would have grown too tired to make it.” He shook his head.

“The blobs,” Leona began. “Why did they chase after you at all? If they were a part of the system, why not simply materialize right in front of you. You didn’t actually run anywhere. You were only ones and zeros, as were the blobs themselves.”

“Exactly,” Mateo reasoned. “They weren’t a part of it. That’s how I know someone put them in there. It couldn’t have been your average file corruption, or whatever.”

“I have another hypothesis,” Ramses jumped in. “I think it could have been natural and unintentional. I think they were a part of her, but not the simulation.”

“What, like her antibodies, or her stress hormones?” Mateo questioned.

“Something like that,” Ramses went on. “Do you remember when Romana was abducted by the original Boyd? He placed her in a dark particle stasis field.”

“Yeah, it changed her,” Mateo said. “It made her just like him. That’s over now.”

“Perhaps not,” Ramses suggested. “I’m still detecting periodic neutrino collisions inside of her body, and in yours. It would be nothing to be worried about, it means your bodies can handle it. But it looks like her mind is being negatively impacted.”

“Well, she’s been dark particle-free for weeks, and nothing. What’s changed?”

Ramses frowned at Mateo sadly, but didn’t say anything. He looked nervous.

“Me,” Mateo surmised. “I visited her simulation. I have lingering dark particle-ness too.” He had to sit down. “I did this to her.”

“It’s not your fault either. It’s just nature,” Leona said comfortingly. “It could also be this star system. Different stars, different solar flux.”

“Fix this,” Mateo demanded. “Do whatever you have to do, even if it hurts.”

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Microstory 2727: False Convictions

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Sora stares at Pribadium for a moment. “We can’t use your machine to go back in time to stop the Teaguardians from destroying the world, but we can do it to visit my dead friend?” He shakes his head at the apparent contradiction.

“We don’t need a time machine for that,” Pribadium!One notes. “Do you remember how she was talking about other universes; how ours crashed into another?”

“Yes,” Sora confirms.

“I don’t know what universe that would have been,” Pribadium!One begins, “but it’s not the only one—not by a long shot. In fact, a couple of them are our siblings. One of these universes, which are known as branes, was named Fort Underhill. Its, uhh...” She hesitates. She’s not really supposed to talk about this stuff to the humans. That’s an antiquated word, but it just refers to people who don’t know about things like temporal manipulation or psychic abilities. But that ship has sailed, so she might as well go for it. “Fort Underhill is where you go when you die. Actually, you go to a virtual simulation first, but at some point, you get moved to the other brane, which is in base reality.”

Sora stares at her again, narrowing his eyes. “Who goes to this place when they die? Your mind? Immortals like Tertius Valerias and Aeterna Valeria?”

“No, everybody,” Pribadium!One clarifies. She sighs. “You may think you’re undigitized, but you’re not. You were born this way. I can’t explain the biology, I never got much into it, but it’s part of how humans are. We’ve been this way for millennia.”

“No.” He shakes his head. “No! No, it’s not true. If humans have always been digitized, we would know. We would have to.”

“I think we kind of did,” Pribadium!One says. “I don’t know how well you know your history, but when researchers were first trying to figure out how to do it, they made a quantum leap in progress. It was the most apropos use of that term ever. It was when they proved that consciousness existed in the quantum realm, and I think this is why.”

Sora stands, and starts to pace out of frustration. “So my convictions—my refusal to become like all of you—they mean nothing? I can’t die anyway? Elke isn’t dead?”

“I wouldn’t know anything about that,” she explains. “That was some time ago, and I believe there is a way to die for good in Fort Underhill, but that would be a choice.”

“Yet you have some unique way of contacting the dead?” Sora scoffs.

“I know people in high places.” She’s friends with the people who are responsible for it, but she has never told them that she found a way to access it. She kind of thought they might find out eventually, and when time travel is involved, eventually is synonymous with always. They have never brought it up, though she has had to use it on occasion. There was one time where a man from Castlebourne asked her to reunite an undigitized friend of his with her dead parents. They evidently gave her advice, and now that woman is an immortal flying superhero. So she doesn’t take this for granted.

“It won’t work,” Pribadium!Two says. She’s opening the medical pod, and slowly making her way out of it. “As I told you, this is a parallel reality. Your interversal communicator was calibrated to the main sequence.”

“Good point,” Pribadium!One says. “That would prove if you’re telling the truth.”

“If?” Pribadium!Two questions. “I definitely am.”

“Well, we’ll see about that.” Pribadium!One walks over to the communicator.

Pribadium!Two violently grabs her wrist. “If you try, I’ll have to kill you.”

The Advancement of Mateo Matic: September 19, 2563

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Monster might not have been the right word to use for them. They were amorphous blobs that shifted their shapes as they moved in unpredictable ways. They were mostly a navy blue, though hints of other colors randomly appear like twinkling stars. They had no faces and no limbs, but they were heading right for the trio. Mateo didn’t know if Romana and Boyd were as worried as he was, so he took his eyes off of the apparent attack to study their faces. They both looked just as surprised as they stood up from the picnic blanket, and tried to back away. This was evidently not normal.

There were more monsters behind them, coming from up the ridge, in the tree branches, and even from burrows in the ground. The landscape and foreground objects, like the picnic supplies, started flickering. The waterfall moved backwards, and then forwards at superspeed. It wasn’t just that there were monsters in this world. It was that the world itself was unstable. The simulation was clearly corrupted. They would have to take it out of Romana’s head. But first, they had to find a way out of it. Any amount of time could have passed in the real world for them. She was not in control anymore. Perhaps she never was.

“We have to get out of here,” Mateo pointed out as they were running through the one gap they found between the monsters. “You leave first, Romy. I’ll follow.”

“She can’t leave,” Boyd argued.

“I don’t know if you’re real or not,” Mateo said to him, “but if you love her like you’re supposed to, you’ll let her save herself. I don’t know where you could go, but—”

“No, it’s not that,” Boyd argued. “The nanites are in her brain and body. She can’t simply log out. Whatever is happening will still be happening, and could still be damaging her. But at least here, she can see what’s going on from the inside.”

“Our friends don’t necessarily know that something has gone wrong,” Mateo reasoned. “We have to leave so we can tell them, so they can solve it from their end.”

“You go,” Romana urged. “Tell Ram and mother. I will stay and maintain the link.”

Mateo stopped, and stopped her by the shoulder. They had covered some ground. “That doesn’t make sense. You need to be able to talk to them about what you’re feeling, and what you’re thinking. They need to be able to ask you questions. I will stay here.”

“Time is different when she’s not here,” Boyd explained. “I don’t have to wait a full year for her to come back, but I do spend some time alone, so I live more like a normal person, instead of a program that she just turns on and off. Whatever these things are...”

“They could be messing with that.” Mateo turned back to his daughter. “That’s why you need to go. Please. We’ll take care of each other. If he were the original Boyd, or if he’s not; it doesn’t matter. I don’t know how to test for that. I have to assume that he’s a conscious being, so I will fight for him like I would anyone else.” He waited. “Now go!”

Romana gave Boyd a hug and a kiss, and Mateo only a hug. Then she disappeared.

“Do you have any idea what these things are?” Mateo asked. “Can we fight them?”

“I wouldn’t know, but I wouldn’t try. They might kill you. Just by touch, they might genuinely destroy your IDCode, leaving your body an empty husk in base reality.”

The monsters were closing in on them again, so they started running off again. “Can we simply shift to a different environment?” Mateo asked. “Anywhere but here.”

Boyd extended his hand, then transported them away when Mateo took it, but no matter where they jumped, the blobs were always in the exact same place, relative to their positions. The blobs could pass through solid objects, so the only way to stay ahead of them was to run. The humans had to keep running for a week before rescue came.

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The Advancement of Mateo Matic: September 18, 2562

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They were kind of surprised to come back to the timestream in 2562 to find that there were no more hits on Ramses’ warning system. Well, there were few in the meantime, but they closed out by the time they returned. He specifically designed it to maintain some privacy. An invisible probe would spy on the colonists, and log what was happening to them, categorizing what might be an issue, then if necessary, send an alert back to homebase. It would not reveal what happened, or what they would be getting themselves into. If something changed about the situation, the probe would amend the status with a new report, which in many cases, would render the team moot. They knew there would be things they missed due to their patterns. That didn’t mean they wanted to gather exabytes of data on the lives of strangers. They were only here to help, and if there was nothing they could do, they didn’t need to know about it.

In his spare time, Ramses had figured out what went wrong with Romana’s sojourn in her private virtual environment before. She had set it up incorrectly, not reaching out for help when she needed it, because she wanted to keep it a secret. He assured them that it would not happen again. She was going to go back there when her father stopped her. “What? You don’t want me to see him? You think it’s unhealthy?”

“I’m not here to judge you,” Mateo promised. “We would like to meet him. For real, this time. Preferably when he’s fully clothed, but...again, I don’t wanna judge.”

“We’re not naturists,” Romana explained. “What do you want, a dinner?”

Mateo checked his watch. “Whatever meal you would have at whatever time it is in there. We’re flexible. I just want you to know that I love and I support you. I saw how Linwood Meyers’ eyes lit up when his companion bot walked into the room. I come from a different time, when that kind of relationship wasn’t possible. That doesn’t mean I should be closed off to the idea. Quite the opposite. I need to recognize my ignorance.”

“I’m glad to hear you say that,” Romana said. She looked over at Leona and Olimpia, who were planning to go in too, but hadn’t spoken up yet. “Maybe just one at a time, though. I don’t know if Boyd is conscious, but he is sensitive.”

“That’s okay,” Leona said with a smile. “You two go in alone. I have some work to do on our habitats anyway. Enjoy your dinner. Eat whatever you want. You can’t get fat.”

“Yeah, and I’m gonna...go eat something that might make me fat,” Olimpia added.

“I’ll still love you,” Mateo said. “All of you.” He kissed his wife, then his other wife.

Father and daughter entered the simulation. It didn’t look like Topeka anymore. It was just a peaceful jungle or forest, or whatever. A huge waterfall fell into the little pond before them, but the volume was turned down low, so it wasn’t a sensory overload. They were wearing casual summer clothes, and it was the ideal temperature here. They heard someone call Romana from behind. They turned around, and she smiled brightly.

“Boyd!” Romana cried back, waving. She ran up to him so they could kiss.

Boyd was noticeably uncomfortable with the PDA. “Is it okay?”

Romana looked back over at Mateo too. “It’s okay. He won’t bite.”

Mateo walked up to them. “I really won’t.” He offered his hand. “It’s nice to officially meet you,” Boyd Maestri. “I thought maybe we could share a meal.”

“I would very much like that, sir,” Boyd replied. “I had a picnic planned, but we can do something else. There is plenty of food either way.”

“A picnic sounds lovely,” Mateo said. “Lead the way.”

They went off to eat. It was awkward, but became less so over time. Then the monsters came.

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Microstory 2718: Whatever it Takes

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Isavet has been allowed visitors, but she hasn’t allowed anyone in. She said what she wanted to say to her family, and heard what she wanted to hear from them. She may see them again one day, but she might not. Until then, she wants to be alone. That is evidently not an option this time. The so-called owner of the entire planet is here. He wants to speak with her personally, which sounds incredibly ridiculous to her. She has to remember, though, that genuine murder is all but impossible these days, out here in the real world. The fact that she attempted it probably shook everyone to their core, so it makes some sense that he would want to meet the killer.

“May I sit?” a man named Hrockas Steward asks. He’s flanked by his personal bodyguard, Azad Petit, who is the one who warned the family about Talus’ indiscretions.

“It’s all yours, sir,” Isavet replies. The way she sees it, the sentence has been handed down. She’s going to the same place where her brother is. She doesn’t have to pretend to be unhinged anymore. She can be polite and cordial.

While Azad remains a statue next to him, Hrockas sits and adjusts his outfit. “Has anyone ever explained to you where you’re going in terms that you understand?”

“A friend of mine told me about Varkas Reflex,” Isavet begins, referring to Caleb. “It’s not like a regular prison. For most people, only their minds are there. They convert your thoughts and memories into tiny flashes of light, and throw your body away.”

Hrockas smiles, and doesn’t quite chuckle, but he clearly wants to. “That’s one way to put it. If you choose the right simulations, you will one day understand it even better. And I do hope you do that. I know that Danmörk speaks to you, but there is so much more out there, and you can have it all without moving a centimeter. Miss Truett, you’re special. That body you’re in right now is the only one you have ever had. It is for that reason that it is illegal for anyone to destroy it. Even if your mind is safely uploaded to a server, it just can’t be done. So where you’re going, you get to keep it.”

“Yes, my friend told me about that too, before the lawspeaker explained.”

Hrockas nods and leans forward. “On the planet in question, there are very few people in quarantine. It’s just not something that needs to be done. The majority of the population are there for recreation. It’s not unlike Castlebourne, except you the world can be anything you want, even if it would break the laws of physics. Honestly, it’s technically better than what we have. One day, my planet will be shut down. It’s cool, doing all these things in base reality, but it’s not gonna last forever. In millions of years, the idea of having a physical body at all will probably seem quaint. Until then, if you want your pick of VR, you go to Varkas Reflex. The initials are a very lucky coincidence.

“Anyway, the quarantine zone, as you might imagine, is far separated from everyone else, and it’s quite small. They anticipated a few guests such as yourself and your brother, but not many. My primary adjudicator has a particular affinity for it. There actually are still physical penal colonies for those who have also not been digitized. She almost sent you to one of those. I’m glad she chose otherwise.”

“Sir?” Isavet asks. Why would he care where she goes?

Hrockas leans forward even more. “I know what your plan is.”

“Sir?” she repeats.

“You are not as opaque as you believe. Don’t worry,” Hrockas assures her, “I don’t think your family sees it. They’re young. They don’t know what life was like when we had scarcity. They tend to see the best in people. I’ve seen the darkness. I see it in you. And you’re smarter than they give you credit for. I know you knew what would happen when you killed that couple. I know you wanted to get sent to Varkas Reflex, and I know why.”

“I just want to pay for my transgressions,” Isavet lies.

He doesn’t hold back a laugh this time. “The Viking boy must have told you a lot about virtual quarantine. When you go there, you will not be in the same room as the younger Talus. You will not see him unless I let you. I’ve made quite a name for myself in this galaxy, so I have friends. I can give you what you need to do what you are hoping to do, but in exchange, I’m going to need something from you.”

Oh, there it is. “And what’s that?” Isavet asks.

Hrockas turns his head towards his bodyguard, but doesn’t actually look up at him. “Plausible deniability.”

“Sir,” Azad protests.

“I’m backed up. Go,” Hrockas insists.

Azad clears his throat, and looks at Isavet. “I have a license to kill. I’ll need it to fight in the war that’s coming, but I’ll use it now if you give me a reason, even if he survives anyway. So think about that before you do something stupid.” He disappears.

Isavet is so shocked. Are they already in the mind prison, or is there more going on with this world than she understands?

Hrockas turns back at her. “You and Talus Junior are not the only people in quarantine. Most of the people, I don’t care about, but there is one which threatens every living being in the universe. She’s smart. She was born in a virtual world, and she is incredibly patient. She will find a way to break out one day. What I need you to do is break out first. You can kill your brother, but I need you to kill this other entity as well. It won’t be easy, but I can give you the tools. Are you up for it?”

“This feels like a trick; like you’re waiting for me to confess to my intentions so you have a reason to imprison me somewhere else,” Isavet worries.

“I own the planet. If I want something to happen, it does. I don’t need a reason. This is real. You don’t have to admit to anything. Just submit to a simple procedure.”

“What kind of procedure would this be?”

“An undetectable implant in your brain,” he answers. “When you’re digitized, you become code, and killing code isn’t easy, but it is possible. With a zero blade.”

Isavet leans back and eyes this strange little man. She has met many strong and powerful men in her day, but none who owns a planet. Everyone she has talked to about him says he does. That obviously doesn’t mean he can be trusted, but he should definitely be respected. Even if there is only a remote chance that he’s being truthful, she has to say yes. She always knew that she might need help. Caleb acknowledged only knowing so much about the prison. “Okay. Show me.”

Hrockas snaps his fingers, and they’re suddenly in a different room. A doctor there named Telman explains the procedure. He can cut into her brain, insert a hidden, dormant little bead, then seal it back up like magic. It sounds crazy, but necessary, and Hrockas says it will help her with Talus too. As long as it gets her what she needs too, she’ll do anything he wants, or anyone else for that matter. So she lies back in the chair, and accepts whatever weird thing they’re going to put in her head. She’s not scared. She and pain go way back. After she’s settled, she breathes deeply. “Do it.”

Microstory 2715: Leaning Forward and Ready to Leave

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It’s over. Well, the first part of Isavet’s plan is anyway. She has learned what she needed to, and she had a plausible reason to learn it. She was born under the Nordome Network, or whatever it is. It was her home. She was just following what the gamemakers set up for her. Had she left, started a life on the outside, and then tried to commit to this training, it would have looked suspicious. Or rather, it could have. She doesn’t actually know that, because she doesn’t know what life is like away from the Nordic nations. She is going to leave soon, but she has to find her family first.

Caleb takes her back, but she doesn’t let him follow her this time. Helping with her revenge efforts was noble and very nice of him. She appreciated it. But she is in no physical danger here. It is deeply personal. He respects her decision to end the simulation here. He gave her his contact information, so they can reconnect on the outside. He and his men are going to go back down south, and continue on with their ancient Norse ways. He doesn’t know when he’s going to leave, but it probably won’t be too long. You’re evidently supposed to stay for a lifetime, but you don’t have to, and it kind of feels like he’s grown bored of it. And he probably wants to connect with Isavet, though in other ways, and he can’t do that unless he’s on the outside too.

“Father,” Isavet says. She has finally found them. She has found Ronan at last. She doesn’t see anyone else here. “Where are mother, Vith, and Leif?”

“They’ve gone, my child,” her father says. He takes her into a big hug. “This is no place for a boy like Leif. I am here to invite you to come with us. Now, I’m sure you’re nervous, and you have every right to see this world as—”

“I want to leave,” she interrupts. “I completed my work, and I want to see what else is out there. I may be okay with the violence here, in a way that Leif never was, but it’s still not real. It was only catharsis. I needed to see it through, because that is how you raised me. But now I’m ready to see how you live. Take me out of here, father.”

He smiles proudly. “Okay,” Ronan says. “Let us head for the nearest exit.”

Isavet nods, and follows him as he walks off, not bothering to break down camp. “How did you know that I was back? Can you watch me on your cameras?”

“No, I’ve been here. That is why I told you where we would be.”

“What?” Isavet questions. He shouldn’t have stayed here, all this time. He had no idea how long she was going to take. It could have been years. That might not mean much to immortals like him, but she would have felt really, really bad about it, instead of just really bad. “I can’t believe you did that. Do you not miss your son?”

“I do, but you’re important to me too. What you said, needing to see this through? I respect that immensely. I do not have access to security cameras. I had to stay.”

Isavet frowns. Her guilt will remain at least another several months, she’s sure.

Ronan stops and bends down over a patch of grass. “I wish to officially declare my intention to leave the simulation. Please raise the lift for egress.” The ground parts for him. A block of it ascends from the ground. A door opens leading to a small room. “It’s okay, Isavet. This will take us to our new home. Our family awaits.”

She trusts him. Isavet steps in first, followed by Ronan. The doors close on their own. The chirpings of a bird she is not familiar with soothe her as the walls and floor shake. She’s not scared, though. This is what is meant to happen. After a few minutes, this lift object stops. The doors reopen. The first thing she sees is a computer.