Showing posts with label sister. Show all posts
Showing posts with label sister. Show all posts

Thursday, May 1, 2025

Microstory 2399: Vacuus, May 18, 2183

Generated by Google VideoFX text-to-video AI software, powered by Veo 2
Dear Pascal,

This is the best news ever. Are you ready for this? Get excited. You’re never gonna guess. If you’ll recall, last year, you sent me a message, informing me that your son, my brother, was found missing two years prior, and ultimately declared dead. Well, I’m happy to contradict that in the strongest way possible. Condor is one hundred percent alive. He’s here. That’s why he was missing. This guy got on a spaceship, and flew 1200 astronomical units into the black to intercept Vacuus in its lonely deep space orbit. If you want proof, attached is a little video of us at our real joint birthday party last night. It was such a surprise. We caught wind that a new ship of migrants were coming to live here, and help us grow, but we never dreamed that Condor might have been one of them. It was actually his idea, but I’ll let him tell you.

Hi dad, it’s your boy, Condor. I’m sorry I left you. I was planning the trip out here for quite a while. In fact, I first thought of it the day Corinthia’s message came through. I started doing calculations to determine how long it would take, and what the flight would be like. I did research on my own, and I reached out to other people. There was a ton of interest in certain circles to come here. It’s not the most habitable place in the universe, but nowhere is by Earth’s standards when man first crawled out of the mud. I didn’t know if I was going to be successful, but I knew I had to try, and the more letters I got from Corinthia, the more I wanted it. Most of the people I came here with are still in orbit, awaiting the Vacuans to expand their base to accommodate them, but they let me drop down in an escape pod alone, because I initiated and organized the whole thing. I’m so thankful for the chance to spend my birthday with my twin sister for the first time ever. We ate homegrown root vegetables! Now for the serious stuff. I’m sorry that I didn’t tell you. I probably should have, but you always felt terrible about keeping this all a secret, and that only got more intense after the letters started. It had to be a surprise for Corinthia, and I knew that you would spill the beans by the time I made it. It took our ship three and a half years to get here. That is a markèd improvement over the eighteen years it took Corinthia and her mother, Alizée, but I was pretty sure the Valkyries would fly away early enough for you to tell Corinthia the truth. I know what your next question will be. Why didn’t I try to bring you with me? I did try. There was a hard age limit. I was almost too old to qualify. The cutoff was 40, and there are only a few of us around that age. Most of the passengers are in their 20s. But I knew you would be okay. What I didn’t know was that I would be declared missing, and presumed dead. This was all done through the Earth Restoration Project. I thought we were all on the same page, but we got our wires, and someone apparently didn’t know what the cover story was. So I’m really sorry about that, but I’m fine, and I look forward to your response.

With all my love,

Your son, Condor, and your daughter, Corintha

PS: This is Velia! I’m here too!

Thursday, April 17, 2025

Microstory 2389: Vacuus, December 12, 2179

Generated by Google VideoFX text-to-video AI software, powered by Veo 2
Dear Condor,

I can be pretty intense too, which is why I think we’re perfect together. Of course, we have to define together a little differently than most people, but we’re not the only ones in this situation. A number of other couples around the solar system are basically going through the same thing. There’s this whole subculture of spacefarers who have met their significant others on the network without ever meeting each other. To be fair, we’re still clearly unique, because no pair is as separated as we are—Titan and Europa only get about 9 AU apart—but I think they still have some advice that we could follow. Funnily enough, you’ve already implemented some of these with your sister (though hopefully not all of them). For one, they suggest sending sexy pictures. Check that one off the list for us. Corinthia and I got in a fight about it, but we worked it out. If you would like some more, I would be willing to do that, but I don’t want our entire relationship to only be about sex. I don’t think that would be fulfilling in any meaningful way for either of us. Videos are better, but a little tough for us. My quota is different than Corinthia’s, and the image ends up very compressed, so it’s probably more annoying than anything. I will try it, though. The first photo I sent you was actually a still from a video I did where I introduced myself, and my role on the base. As far as the nonsexual tips, the stories I read about suggested something that they called asynchronous shared experiences. That’s like how you had a shared birthday party, and pretended to be in the same room together by wearing the same clothes, and looking at the same stars. Reading the same books, and watching the same show, are also good examples of this. I don’t want to do The Winfield Files, since that’s something special just between the two of you, but maybe there’s something else? Since we’re so worried about the Valkyries returning, it should probably be something on the shorter side, especially since I know you have a ton of other responsibilities, it’s not all about me. So maybe just a movie? I like to read, like you, but they take so long, and I get particularly invested in epic novels. One thing that has helped some couples is building a fictional environment to occupy together. They imagine what their lives would be like if they could live them in realtime. Fair warning, this doesn’t work for everyone. The lie can be...maddening. I’ll tell you what, since I have more free time than you do, I’ll attach a list of movies that I’ve been meaning to see. I’ll watch them all. They’re all different genres, so you watch whichever one you want, and send me your thoughts. That will be our first shared experience.

Patiently yours,

Velia

Sunday, April 13, 2025

The Advancement of Mateo Matic: July 13, 2495

Generated by Google ImageFX text-to-image AI software, powered by Imagen 3
Ramses was doing a lot of things at the same time today. He deployed a sophisticated drone to fly around Dome 216, and try to figure out what was going on. There was inexplicable life support in there. Obviously simply sealing a dome up didn’t automatically make it habitable. Hrockas had a complex network of tubes piping in oxygen, nitrogen, and other gases. An AI managed all of this, making sure that compositions remained at optimal levels. Some of the oxygen came from the natural thin atmosphere native to Castlebourne while the rest was from various electrolytic processing plants placed strategically between the inhabited domes. Carbon scrubbers then recycled this air as needed. Ideally, they would just be growing plantlife to do this all for them free of charge, but that kind of infrastructure was a very long-term plan.
Dome 216 had no such gas pipelines. They were installed years ago, but ultimately removed and repurposed elsewhere. Nothing should be alive in here, yet as the drone surveyed the land in greater detail than its predecessor, it found not only breathable air, but also desert plants. Either someone was sneaking in, and making changes to this environment, or there was something fishy going on. In addition to preparing the team for their departure with their new tandem slingdrive array, Ramses was examining Romana to see how she was involved. There was a...dark particle monster lurking in the mysterious dome, and it theoretically came from her. But how?
“How indeed?”
 Ramses covered up his patient. She had to be undressed for him to scan her entire integumentary system properly. They still didn’t really know how her dark particles were released, or exactly where they lived when they weren’t swarming around. “Hrockas, this is highly inappropriate, you can’t just burst in whenever you want.”
“That’s where you’re wrong, this is my planet. All of this belongs to me.”
Ramses didn’t respond to this. Yes, Hrockas technically owned Castlebourne, but it was its namesake, Vendelin Blackbourne who initiated construction of the domes before he died and joined Team Keshida. A great deal of the work since then was completed by others, particularly Ramses himself, and Baudin Murdoch. Hrockas’ contribution was not nothing, but it wasn’t singular either.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that.”
“How did you get into this sub-lab? You shouldn’t even know about it.”
“I have particles of my own,” Hrockas replied. “Keeping watch...taking notes.”
Ramses nodded. “Smartdust. I should have had my countersurveillance protocols account for that. I guess I just trusted you too much. I won’t make that mistake again.”
Hrockas chuckled. “Intentional obsolescence has gotten me out of a lot of jams. Those who cannot remember the past are doomed to give me their secrets.”
Ramses looked around. “I was getting sick of this place anyway. It’s time to move on. What did you come in for anyway?”
“I was just checking on your progress. She tell you anything?”
She can speak for herself,” Romana argued. “And no. I don’t know anything.”
“I meant, his little tests. Have they given you any insights?”
“Thank you. You can go now,” Ramses said to him pointedly. They would tell Hrockas what he deserved to know, when they were ready for him to know it.
“Fine. I’ll go.”
“You can take your smartdust with you,” Ramses added.
“Okay.” Hrockas patted himself on the hip, and spoke in a high-pitched tone, “come on! Let’s go, little motes. Come on! Come on!” He was smirking as he walked through the holographic door backwards.
“Hey, thistle,” Ramses said. “Purge the dust for me.”
Certainly, sir.” The biohazard decontamination protocols rained hell over the little guys, destroying all forms of minuscule surveillance, as well as all other visual security measures.
Did my body tell you anything?” Romana asked once the purge was over.
He rolled a cart around so she could see what was on the monitor. “You have an aura.” The screen was showing Romana in silhouette, as well as a hazy second shadow surrounding her. To the untrained eye, it would look like nothing more than a regular second shadow, created by an additional source of light. But when Romana moved around, this aura followed her nonuniformly. It was sometimes lagging behind, and sometimes clearly ahead, predicting her future movements perfectly.
“So it’s always there, just invisible.”
“It would appear so.”
“Could you take—I dunno—a biopsy, or something?”
“Not invisible as in, a trick of the light. They seem to exist in a parallel dimension, just as we always suspected. This is where they multiply.”
“Are they alive?” Romana pressed.
He threw up a hologram containing a list. It was the eight requirements for life. He pointed towards each one like a schoolteacher. “To be alive, an entity must have complex organization, metabolize chemically, maintain homeostasis, grow, reproduce, respond to stimuli, adapt or evolve, and contain coded information.” He swiped at the image. The list remained, but a couple of the items were crossed out, and a couple of them were highlighted, while others were left unchanged. “They don’t appear to be very complex, more like single-celled organisms. If they metabolize, they don’t necessarily do it chemically. Maybe they process...time, or other forms of energy? They do seem to be homeostatic. They hopefully don’t grow. They one hundred percent reproduce by some means. They definitely respond to stimuli. It’s too early to tell if they evolve. And I have no idea how to test for any equivalent to DNA.”
“Do they...get angry at you?”
“What do you mean?”
“Are you getting the sense that they don’t like when you run your tests on them?”
Ramses lifted his chin in curiosity, and peered at her. “Do you feel an anger around you? Do you think they’re angry?”
“When I get mad, even at someone I love, like my sisters, I feel...a power. I feel stronger. Maybe there’s more of them in those instances. Maybe that’s how they reproduce, by feeding off of the emotion.”
“I don’t know how one would go about feeding on emotion,” Ramses said, shaking his head as he was struggling to find any evidence to contradict his hypothesis, and support hers.
She looked down and to the side, but didn’t say anything.
“Have you talked to anyone about this before? Mateo, or your sisters?”
She didn’t look up. “I was afraid.”
“Afraid of what, that they would start to fear you?”
She waited to respond, but then she looked up. “Afraid of being encouraged, to embrace it. To use it.” She looked down again, and breathed out. “To exploit it.”
“Shit,” Ramses said, exasperated. “You’re afraid of becoming Buddy. Why weren’t we worried about this before? Of course you would feel some connection to him, however dark.”
“I don’t think he did this to me on purpose. I don’t think he understood what he was getting himself into, how it would affect someone with my biology, and what was it—my qualia?”
“I don’t think so either. Guy’s a dick, but I think he would have said something, or hinted at it.”
Romana looked over at the holographic wall. “What if that thing out there is... I don’t even wanna say it.”
“I think I know where you were going. Do you want me to say it?”
“No, but...someone should.”
“Our child.” Buddy was suddenly here. His swarm of dark particles were just finishing up retreating into their home dimension.
Ramses stepped between Buddy and Romana. “Do you spy on us?”
“Cocktail party effect,” Buddy said cryptically. “I know when people are talking about me. I tend to ignore it, but there was something different about this. I’ve been sensing your dark particles since you left. I thought it was just residual energy, but now I know better.” He started to step closer.
Ramses tensed up. “Whoa there, buckaroo billy.”
Buddy stopped. He was stoic, and maybe even respectful? “What I did to you was wrong; a violation. I didn’t see it that way at the time, but it’s my greatest regret. I recognize that I am seen as the villain; an antagonist. That was never my intention. I started out normal, just a little ambitious. But those ambitions grew, and took over. They became obsessions. I know it’s crazy to force people to go get me a fruit. Intellectually, that’s just dumb. I can’t think about anything else, though. It feels like my purpose in life, and if I ever manage to get it, I’m worried that my next obsession will be bad. What if I start fixating on vaporizing a whole planet, or turning everything into paperclips?”
“Why are you telling us this?” Romana questioned.
“Because it could happen to you, and you don’t deserve that. I didn’t. I was innocent...until I wasn’t. These things are toxic, and while it’s too late for me, I believe that you still have time.” He straightened up, and cleared his throat, giving himself a surge in self-assuredness. “I wanna help. I wanna fix this. It’s my mess, and my responsibility to clean it up.”
“We obviously can’t trust you,” Ramses reasoned. “The first time we encountered you was because you abducted our friends. And then the next time, you abducted her.”
“I know, and as I said, that was wrong. Don’t let her become the next me. Don’t let her do something like that to innocent people.”
“If what you’re saying is true,” Romana began, “then you’re just trading one obsession with another. Let’s say you fix what’s wrong with me, what happens to you then? Do you just go back to the way you were, coercing people into doing your bidding?”
“Like I was saying, I’m a lost cause,” Buddy reiterated.
“Well, what if you become obsessed with self-improvement?” she suggested.
“Well, that’s self-defeating, Romana, it would never work,” Ramses determined.
“No, I want to hear her out. You really think that I can choose my own obsession?”
Romana smiled. “I think that you’re choosing it right now, asking for me to let you help me.”
“I believe that he was asking me,” Ramses said, like an idiot.
She glared at him for a moment before returning her attention to Buddy. “Might as well give it a shot. What’s the worst that could happen?”
“He vaporizes the world with paperclips,” Ramses gibed.
“Thank you, you can go now,” Romana said to Ramses. He was being mean-spirited with Buddy, albeit plausibly justified. She was just joking, though, because she couldn’t do this without him. If anyone was going to figure out how to save her from her own dark particles, it was the one person in the timeline who both was smart enough, and cared for her. Buddy’s knowledge and experience were equally invaluable, and since he was offering it, they had little choice but to accept.
“All right,” Ramses relented. “If you want to help, I will set aside my reservations, and remain professional. But in the end, I still don’t trust you, and I will go to any lengths to protect my people from you.”
“I would expect nothing less,” Buddy acknowledged.
There was a pause in the conversation, which Ramses volunteered to break. “Do you have any ideas off the top of your head, errr...?”
“Yeah, I think it’s time for me to meet my child,” Buddy figured.
“Okay.” Ramses was immediately regretting his decision to be civil. “We don’t know if we should frame it that way. The dark particles that you gave her are hers now, and if she made a particle baby, that doesn’t mean it’s yours. Okay?”
“Whatever you say, boss.”
“Yeah, that’s right.” Ramses knew that Buddy was being sarcastic, but that didn’t make his statement untrue. “I’m choosing to believe that you didn’t father a child with a fifteen-year-old girl.”
“She’s not fifteen anymore.”
“She was when you...impregnated her,” he shouted with airquotes. He threw up a little in his mouth.
“Okay, okay!” Romana cried, trying to shut down the argument. “Ramses is right. We’re not calling it anyone’s child. We’re not calling it a child. It’s a...fuck!”
Ramses calmed down. “We’ll just call it the particle entity. It doesn’t have to be an extension of you in any way for most discussions.”
“Great.” Buddy clapped his hands. “Let’s go meet—not my—but a particle entity.”
“That’s not the next step in this process,” Ramses told him.
“It is for me.” Buddy spun around, and disappeared into his dark particles.
“He’s gonna get himself killed,” Romana warned.
“No, wait!” Ramses knew what she was about to do. He growled after she called upon her own dark particles, and disappeared too. He teleported the regular way, grateful that he could always pinpoint her location.
They were now standing in a desert. A swarm of dark particles were flying around in the distance. Another swarm was farther down the hill in the opposite direction. According to the drone’s readings, they were multiplying faster than ever, and showing no signs of stopping. The particle entity, however, was nowhere to be seen. They still had time to get out of here before it spotted them. “It might kill us,” Romana contended.
“Then you should leave, so if it kills, it only kills me,” Buddy calculated.
“What if it kills you because it’s made up of my anger, and I’m angry at you?” Romana proposed.
While they were looking at him, Buddy was scanning the horizon, searching for the entity. “Then Team Matic will finally have defeated me, just as they once promised.”
“We should go,” Ramses said. “This is not the way. You start small, and work your way up to the more dangerous experiments. We do it like that for a reason.”
“That’s too cautious, not how I operate, and my efforts are about to pay off.” He was looking down at the ground a few meters away. Dark particles wafted up from the sand, forming themselves into a blob, which assembled into a humanoid figure. It developed approximations of human facial features, but only as creases and pits. It was a great example of body-horror. Its mouth moved. It was trying to speak, though no sound was coming out, probably because it didn’t have vocal cords, or anything else that a normal person would need to function as a living organism. Buddy gave it a Vulcan salute. “We are of peace...always.”
The entity jerked its head to focus on Buddy, reinforcing Ramses’ assertion that the particles were responsive to stimuli.
“I am your father,” Buddy said to it, much to everyone’s chagrin, including the entity’s.
It reached out, and took Buddy by the neck. It was trying to strangle the life out of him.
“I told you!” Romana yelled. She took the entity by its arm, and attempted to pull it off of Buddy, but it was superhumanly strong, and barely paying her any mind. She continued to pull while Ramses urged her to let go. “No! I am your mother, and you will do as I say!”
The entity released Buddy from its grasp, and stared at Romana. It was impossible to tell what it was thinking, or even if it was capable of thinking at all. Without any warning, the particles that it was made up of blew up like a balloon, and enwrapped her. They both disappeared.
“Do you know where she went?” Buddy asked Ramses after they were gone.
Ramses tried to focus on their bond to one another, but he wasn’t getting anything. Dark particles were evidently the one thing that could block the signal. “No.”
I do.” Buddy walked towards him, almost menacingly, and transported them both away.

Sunday, April 6, 2025

The Advancement of Mateo Matic: July 12, 2494

Generated by Google ImageFX text-to-image AI software, powered by Imagen 3
There was no need to worry about the new Minister of Foreign Affairs for Castlebourne. They didn’t know who she was prior to today, but she was already familiar with time travelers, a few in particular. Rochelle Sumner grew up with Dalton Hawk as he was living through multiple lifetimes. Curious about people like him, she started to be on the lookout for others, eventually running into Dave Seidel and Jesimula Utkin. She was actually with them in the past, trying to figure out how to transport a citrus fruit from the future at the behest of the villainous Buddy. Rochelle couldn’t or wouldn’t divulge whether they succeeded in this mission, but she had long since moved on. In more recent decades, she was trained as an Interstellar Charterwright, so it was her job to handle these situations specifically. The fact that she knew about time travel could have entirely been a coincidence, because it didn’t sound like she had concerned herself with such matters for the last few centuries.
While they were gone, Ramses’ machines finished all of the calculations and simulations for the new mini-slingdrives, but it was complicated. The components were successfully miniaturized, and shunted into specialized pocket dimensions. The problem was that they could not accrue enough quintessence on their own for an individual to make a jump. At least three people had to come together to combine their power. They should all be able to jump together at that point, which meant that the resulting power was more than the sum of its parts, but it was a limitation that the math simply could not overcome.
“I don’t like that word,” Angela decided.
“What would you have me call it?” Ramses asked.
She pursed her lips to the side, and looked up towards the ceiling with only her eyes. “A constraint?”
He laughed a little. “Okay. That’s our constraint. Three or more of us have to go together, which will allow us to theoretically split into two groups, but no more.”
“Can we take other people with us?” Mateo asked him. “Passengers?”
Ramses took an uncomfortably long time to respond. “The AI couldn’t figure that out. I can run as many simulations as you want, but it needs targeted data. It needs to know who these passengers are, and what’s up with their quantum and qualium realms. I can’t just iterate the variables. We would have to calculate each particular passenger, like they used to do with airplanes, when they needed to know everyone’s weight for safety.”
“Have you devised a way to gather this data, if we were to find ourselves in a situation where people are in need of being evacuated?” Leona asked.
“Yes,” he confirmed. “It’s a little slow, but I can improve the efficiency.”
“That’s good enough for me for now,” Leona determined.
There was a lull in the conversation. No one knew if they were going to leave this very moment, or after saying their goodbyes to everyone here, or even this year. Leona was still worried about her right to be the leader, so she couldn’t just order it. Fortunately, Romana appeared out of nowhere to break the ice. She showed up using the dark particles that she was now stricken with thanks to Buddy’s protracted abduction and imprisonment of her. “Good, you’re not gone yet. I wanna go with you.”
“With us?” Mateo asked. “We don’t even know where we’re going.”
“Yeah, that’s the point,” Romana agreed. “It’s time for me to move on from Team Kadiar. They can handle it without me.”
“It wasn’t about needing you,” Mateo argued. “You should be with your sisters. I can’t...for any extended period of time, but you have a choice.”
“Plus, you put the R in Kadiar,” Olimpia noted.
“We’re not the only three on the team,” Romana said. “It was never only about us, or the name.”
“We’re Team Matic, but more than half of us aren’t Matics,” Marie reminded everyone.
“Y’all wanna switch to Team Walton?” Mateo proposed.
“That’s okay,” Angela replied sincerely.
“I’ve spoken with my sisters,” Romana went on, getting back to the matter at hand. “They give me their blessings. We’re doing good work out there, it’s not like I hate it. It’s just that the operation has grown so much since we started. The Ex-Exins—we need to come up with a better name for them too—have become so much more involved. Kivi and Dubra are considering leaving as well, and just letting the refugees take care of themselves. Mirage would stay, as would Tertius, since their powers are paramount, but I would say that anyone else is interchangeable.”
“I would love to have you here,” Mateo assured her. “I’m not going to harp on how dangerous it will be, because you already know that, and it’s not like you’ve been living in a padded cell for the last several years. I just want to make sure you don’t walk away with any regrets.”
“It hasn’t been long for you,” Romana said, “but I’ve been seriously considering my options for a year, and questioning it for years prior to that. I’m not doing this on a whim.”
“Yeah, it’s hard for us to remember that,” Leona admitted. “Everything happens so fast from our perspective.” Another break in the conversation, though a short one. “Well, okay. You’ll need a suit. Ram, you have a regular IMS that’s fitted with all the slingdrive upgrades?”
“Actually,” Romana interrupted Ramses before he had a chance to speak. “Could I maybe get one of those...nanite suits? What do you call them...?”
“The EmergentSuit,” Ramses answered. His eyes darted over to Romana’s father. “I suppose you’re not a child anymore, and you can make that decision.”
Romana waited for a moment before tensing up with confidence “I have. This is also not on a whim. I don’t want the upgraded substrate like you all have, just the nanobot implants. I don’t know if I should have these dark particles in my body, but they’re part of me now, and I can’t risk losing them.” She looked over at Mateo now. “I hope you don’t disapprove.”
Mateo took a respectful moment to ponder his position, then decided to simply say, “your body, your choice.”
“Thank you,” she said softly.

Romana underwent the procedure in private with Leona, instead of with an audience like most everyone else. She had a harder time adjusting to the way her brain interfaced with the implants, and their nanites. She had less experience with that sort of thing. She spent a lot of the day practicing in the lab, during which Ramses realized that there was a flaw in his programming. They were optimized to the team’s physiology and neurology. They were walking around with posthuman bodies, and teleportation and illusion powers. Romana was in no risk of exploding, or something, but she wasn’t ever going to be good at using her new suit in its current state. Her software needed to be adapted to account for the differences between her and her friends. He finished it by the time the day was over, but there wasn’t enough time for them to leave Castlebourne for their little exploratory slingdrive jump. Still, Romana wanted to integrate herself into the team, so she chose to turn her pattern back on, and skip over the next year.
When they returned, it was July 13, 2495. Castlebourne was celebrating a major milestone in their development. For the first time ever, the percentage of domes in the Gamma testing phase exceeded the percentage that were still totally non-operational. While the domes currently still in Alpha and Beta testing would gradually go down as more and more people were given the opportunity to explore these worlds, the top number would probably remain largely unchanged moving forward. Using various methods, including crowdsourcing, ordered list iteration, AI creativity, and just plain sitting down and thinking about it, Hrockas had managed to come up with over 67,000 ideas for the various recreational and relaxation destinations. The other 16,000 or so just wouldn’t be original enough to warrant construction, and would be left there as barren deserts. There were many other deserts, but these ones were unplanned, bare, and unused.
It took some time, but Hrockas eventually accepted the fact that there would be empty areas. Four out of five domes did have something to brag about, and that was a pretty big deal. The only reason he chose to construct as many as he did was because that was close to how many could fit on the surface of the planet. It wasn’t like he came up with all of the ideas first. He was happy, and so were the residents. The population from the Goldilocks Corridor was still growing at a steady rate. The ones already here held a vote, and agreed to call themselves Castlebourners. They were here to start new lives, and build a new civilization. Language mattered, and tying themselves to where they escaped from by calling themselves Ex-Exins—or by the designations of their planets of origin—wasn’t helping them move forward.
“Why are you telling them about this?” Hrockas questioned Aeolia when he finally came into the room.
“I’m trying to get them up to speed,” she defended. She was taking charge of the briefing while Hrockas was busy with other matters.
“I don’t care about that. They need to see that desert, and explain what the hell is happening there.”
“What’s happening in what desert?” Leona asked.
Hrockas took wide strides over to the holo-wall on the other side of the conference table. He switched it on. It was showing a nude beach located in the South Ocean. “Who the hell was watching this?” he questioned, frustrated as he was trying to find the right feed on his handheld device. “Here.” He changed it to the view from a flying drone, looking down at one of those deserts that they were talking about. It wasn’t natural, though, as was the majority of Castlebourne outside of the domes. It was sandy and duney. And there was something else.
Leona leaned forward and peered at the screen. “Are those...?”
“Dark particles?” Romana finished the question with a gulp. There were tons of them, flying over the surface, morphing and turning like starlings.
“That’s what they look like to me,” Hrockas responded. “Care to explain?”
“Which dome is that?” Romana asked.
“It’s Dome 216. A meteorite crashed through it years ago, and I never bothered repairing it. I just marked it for disuse, and moved on to 217.”
With fear in her eyes, Romana looked over at her father. “It’s mine. That’s the one I used to release the excess energy I have pent up when I’m not skipping time, or teleporting, or whatever.”
“You always go into the same dome?” Mateo asked her.
“It was in disuse,” Romana explained.
“How is there an atmosphere?” Olimpia asked.
“Oh yeah, if there’s a breach...” Romana posed to Hrockas.
“You tell me. There’s not supposed to be an atmosphere, I can’t believe I didn’t notice. Maybe it has something to do with what you do in there? Some kind of weird form of electrolysis?”
“I purge the energy,” Romana repeated. “It doesn’t really even look like I’m releasing dark particles. It’s more of a transparent wave that distorts space around me. It’s a very private experience, and I don’t talk about it. It shouldn’t be making oxygen, though. I have no idea what’s going on.”
“Ramses, you need to go there and see what data you can get,” Leona ordered.
“No,” Romana and Hrockas argued at the same time. “It’s too dangerous,” Hrockas continued. “I’ve sealed it off; placed it in its own quarantine.”
“I’ll send a probe,” Ramses negotiated.
“There’s already one in there,” Hrockas said, pointing to the feed.
Ramses chuckled. “I’ll send a better one than that paper airplane you got roaming around the skies.”
“Please do,” Hrockas said.
They started to get up to return to their respective duties when Marie noticed something. “That paper airplane just spotted a person out there.”
“Computer, zoom in,” Leona commanded.
The camera zoomed in towards the ground. It wasn’t a person, more of a silhouette...made of dark particles. If it had any approximation of eyes, though, it was staring up at them.

Wednesday, April 2, 2025

Microstory 2378: Earth, October 21, 2179

Generated by Google ImageFX text-to-image AI software, powered by Imagen 3
Dear Velia,

I know what it’s like to feel a connection to a place or event that I’ve never actually been a part of. That’s what happens when I’m reading a good book. Corinthia and I have been reading The Winfield Files, and watching the corresponding seasons of the adaptation. Even though the stories are very personal and intimate for the characters that we’re following, the writer manages to do a great job of going into great detail with everything that’s happening around them. It’s set in a fictional universe, but it almost plays like historical fiction, because the background is so rich and intricate. It might as well be a version of Earth that really does exist somewhere out there. I sometimes feel more attached to it than my own world, probably because of all the darkness and sadness that has defined our past down here. I also know what it’s like to have a job that makes sense for you, but isn’t necessarily something you would have chosen if you had had every option. My dad was good at what he did, and it was more practical for us to stick together, which meant me finding my own way to contribute by becoming a sort of flight attendant. I don’t know what I would have done if I lived in the kind of world that I read about in some of the classics. The tales are fascinating, but they take place in mundane settings. If you were privileged, you got an education, and pursued your dreams. Not everyone was able to do what they wished, of course, but it was at least there in front of them. We lost so many options when society fell apart. I think maybe, if I were one of the lucky ones, I might have become a scholar. I could have dedicated my life to learning, and possibly become a teacher. I appreciate the characters who wear nice but not overly fancy clothing, and spend their days indoors, reading books of their own, and searching for answers. In the real world, it’s always been about survival, but in a more perfect world, we would mostly have everything that we needed, and could focus on things that aren’t absolutely vital. What would you do if you were born on Earth, and the poisonous gases never befell the lands? Do you think you would have gone into fashion anyway, or is there anything else you find yourself daydreaming about. I must say, you’re not bad at what you do, if the outfit you’re wearing in your photo is any indication. In my opinion, it’s not too much cleavage, though I admit to being a bit biased. I hope it’s not too forward to say that you’ve a very beautiful woman.

Warmly,

Condor

Wednesday, March 19, 2025

Microstory 2368: Earth, September 5, 2179

Generated by Google ImageFX text-to-image AI software, powered by Imagen 3
Dear Vacuus Base,

My name is Condor Sloane. You may know my twin sister, Corinthia Sloane. When we were still infants, Corinthia and her mother left Earth on a daring mission to explore the unknown darkness that lies beyond the orbits of the sunstruck planets. Corinthia taught me that term to refer to the eight other planets, including Earth. I suppose it still technically fits, because the sun’s rays do technically hit our planet, and our sky is technically illuminated by it. Unfortunately, however, after you left, society broke down as greed overpowered all forms of civil fairness. Corporate espionage was rampant, leading to no one company gaining any innovative advantage over any other. In the past, a fair market encouraged healthy competition—which ideally makes things better for consumers—but certain legislative changes led to loopholes in regulatory oversight. They weren’t competing anymore, they were fighting. They were killing. These Corporate Wars turned blood red, and then a sickly pale green as researchers developed weaponized noxious chemicals to use against their boss’ enemies. No more is the sky as blue and beautiful as you’ve probably seen in images. The surface has been engulfed in a toxic cocktail of poisonous gases. We live in domes, or on the rare mountaintops that rise above the toxin line, frozen but habitable. The good news is that the wars are over. Most of the aggressors from those days are either dead or imprisoned. There are definitely still some out there in hiding, and there is definitely a job that involves bringing them to justice. My father and I came across these bounty hunters from time to time. We were transport coordinators, facilitating relocations between safe zones, across the lethal no-man’s lands that litter most of the world. We helped people find work, and reunite with their families. We met all sorts of interesting folk, and kept up with the goingson of the new society that has bloomed in the wake of the terrible devastation. Now, we live on the ocean. They built one of the domes on top of a giant floating platform. Since the platform has to be so large to accommodate the dome, it’s livable as well, and that’s where our cabin is. We have recently taken on immigrants from a dome in Australia. I managed to snap a photo of it from the outside while we were stopped on the road for some brief maintenance, and attached it here. I think that’s just about all I have to say about that. There are so many details missing, and I’m sure you’ll have questions. Corinthia has agreed to accept them from you, and will compile what she can’t answer herself for me. If necessary, I can write a second letter. Thank you for taking the time to hear a little bit about myself and my world. Stay safe up there, and don’t forget to close the door behind you when you go in or out!

Regards,

Condor

Sunday, January 19, 2025

The Advancement of Mateo Matic: July 1, 2483

Generated by Google ImageFX text-to-image AI software, powered by Imagen 3
After adjusting to the lights of the infirmary, Romana looked over at her father, but seemed to be focusing on her own breath. It started to look like she was trying to speak, but she was home now, and everything was going to be fine, so there was no reason to rush this.
“It’s okay. I’m here, and you’re safe. Only talk if you can,” Mateo encouraged.
She struggled to bring her lips closer together to formulate words. She didn’t look like she was in any pain, though, and the pod didn’t indicate that there was any medical issue to be worried about. She didn’t make a sound until she was ready to produce the word, fully and clearly. “Report.”
They told her what had happened, and asked if she remembered anything.
“Nothing,” Romana answered. “Ramses turned his new machine on, and then I woke up here.”
“That might be for the best,” Olimpia hoped. It didn’t appear that she was ever tortured or abused, but there was no telling how difficult it was to be trapped in Buddy’s particles. They might try to find out more information later, but for now, they were just grateful that she was back.
Romana needed physical help getting out of the pod, and then into the tub to be washed up. Olimpia graciously assisted with that. Mateo didn’t feel comfortable participating, and Romana probably preferred it this way too. While she had no apparent memory of the dark particle prison, she still looked traumatized. Perhaps the ordeal had a nuanced impact on her psyche, or maybe her mind was repressing it to protect itself. This gave Mateo an idea, to find a way to let her use his rendezvous card, so she could speak with Dr. Hammer. That was against the rules, but if it could improve his mental health, the Center might make an exception. And anyway, once he made sure that Romana was better, Mateo probably wouldn’t need the support group anymore.
He gave the two of them space, and went back to the bridge. “What’s the word with this thing? Are we in danger of another tangent?”
“Probably,” Leona replied. “But the risk can be mitigated with some careful planning.”
“Two jumps,” Ramses added. “I can probably only muster two good jumps a day, though it’s best that we spread them out by several hours. And I’m only guessing that due to our past experiences. We’ve obviously pushed the limits before, but it hasn’t always worked out, so for the sake of a successful jump, we should probably consider that the safety margin. That doesn’t mean I know what’s causing it. It could be a design flaw, an inherent limitation from the ship that the slingdrive has been retrofitted to, or it could be because of the quintessence itself. Perhaps it doesn’t like people to mess with it until it’s had time to settle down. I need more time, and more tests...again.”
“Before, when we were testing the navigation function,” Mateo began, “it was to save Romana’s life. Now we’re okay. Now we can afford to take a little time. Do what you need to do, but take the pressure off.”
Ramses nodded with a frown.
“And don’t feel bad about what happened,” Mateo continued, noticing that this was not his friend’s real concern. “Buddy is an antagonist who took advantage of an accident that you even predicted. We all knew the risks, including her. I’m not holding it against you, and I would like to see the day when you don’t hold it against yourself. Romana will be fine. She’s back now, and the tethers are holding. We’ll never lose her again. I love you, man.”
“Love you too,” Ramses replied.
“There’s something else,” Leona said, now that the serious conversation was over. “It’s about the Insulator. While he was getting us back, I was conducting my own research.” She stepped to the side to reveal the glass object sitting on the console. “As you can see, it’s missing the dome that’s supposed to go on top. Glass insulators have no moving parts, yet it’s been removed as if it could be popped off like a snap fastener. We scanned for the dome out in the black while we were at our last pitstop, but it might be lost forever.”
“Cool,” Mateo said. “I don’t care about it, though.”
“You should,” Leona insisted. “I was able to make minimal contact with the inhabitant. I can hear her, but she can’t hear me. Mateo, it’s Dubra.”
“My sister?” Romana was here, totally naked, but not worried about it.
Olimpia rushed up, and wrapped a towel around her body. “Sorry, she suddenly hopped out of the tub, and ran off.”
I could hear their conversation in their minds,” Romana explained. “If Dubra is in there, I can turn that minimal contact into a real conversation.”
“Be my guest,” Leona agreed, moving away even farther.
Romana stepped up to it, took a deep breath, then lifted her arms, apparently to prepare to touch it. Her towel fell right back off of her.
“Maybe you should get dried off and clothed,” Mateo asked.
“I got this.” Olimpia was wearing a splash tunic, which was a hydrophobic garment caregivers used to aid someone in bathing, whether as a family member, friend, or medical professional. She pulled it off of her own body, and dropped it over Romana’s, since the latter didn’t seem to be bothered by the mixed company. Now Olimpia was the one without clothes on, but that was fine.
Romana adjusted the shoulders of the tunic, then refocused on the task at hand. She placed fingers from both hands upon the Insulator. She stood there for a few minutes, occasionally showing mild signs of active listening. She nodded definitively, and separated. “Okay.”
“Okay, what? Is she all right?” Mateo asked.
“Yeah, she’s fine.”
“Is that all she said?” Leona pressed.
“No, she said quite a bit.” Romana was acting like these were perfectly complete responses.
“Such as what?” Ramses asked.
“Oh, uh...sister-sister confidentiality.”
“That’s not a thing,” Mateo argued.
“Yes, it is.” Marie was walking onto the bridge, followed by her own sister.
“I’ll just talk to her myself. How do we get her out?” Mateo questioned.
“I’ll have to build her a new substrate,” Ramses reasoned, “but I don’t have her DNA, so I can’t make her look as she did.” He consulted his watch. “And it will take me a real year.”
“Go on and get on it,” Leona said. “Just give her something temporary, and we’ll transfer her to something else later. She might know how we can acquire a sample of her DNA somewhere in the past.”
“Let Romana ask for consent first, please,” Mateo suggested.
“Yes,” Romana said. She went back to briefly speak with Dubravka. “She’s in. Something temporary is fine. It will take some effort to make her the real thing, and she wants to be involved in that. I’m so glad I won’t have to wait a whole year to meet her for real. I really don’t care for telepathy.”
Romana had to wait an entire year before she even had a chance to meet her half-sister in person. She was sixteen years old when Mateo and the team returned to the timestream. Instead of jumping forward like she was used to, she found herself stuck in realtime. She spent that year trying to stay busy by helping Hrockas to prepare for the Grand Opening. There was nothing else she could do. Ramses and Leona were the only ones with any hope of figuring out what might have gone wrong, and more importantly, how to fix it. She certainly couldn’t understand it herself. She didn’t have a whole lot in the way of a formal education. She knew what little she knew thanks to books that her family was able to procure for her over the years, but her unstable lifestyle was not conducive to studying in a classroom. She didn’t have access to Ramses’ ground lab either, or she might have tried to initiate Dubra’s download process herself.
She was depressed, and feeling left behind, but she had all year to come to terms with missing the bus, and the delay in the big family reunion. She also grew up hearing stories of Team Matic’s fantastical adventures, with their top-notch engineer and captain. Together, they could fix anything. So she was confident that they would solve the problem quickly.
“You noticed these, right?” They were back in the realspace infirmary on the Vellani Ambassador. The patient was sitting on the exam table, legs hanging off the edge. Leona was no doctor, but she had a penlight, and she knew how to point it at someone’s eyes.
“Yeah,” Romana replied. “I’ve tried to flush them out, but they’re not exactly...tangible.”
“What are you talking about?” Mateo was standing off to the side, arms crossed, and thinking about the most painful way to tear Buddy’s limbs off of his body.
“The dark particles,” Leona answered. “There are still some in there, floating around. I can’t tell exactly where; behind the cornea, maybe? Or they’re in another dimension...”
“Then figure it out!” Mateo cried.
“Stop it,” Leona instructed. “We’ve talked about your anger.”
Mateo took a deep breath. “I know it’s not your fault, I’m sorry.” He pulled the rendezvous card out of his sleeve pocket. It was red, just as anyone would expect out of someone this angry.
“What are you thinking?” his wife asked.
“I’m thinking that Dr. Hammer is not just a psychiatrist. She has diagnostic equipment that Ramses wouldn’t be able to develop, or know how to use properly. She may have even seen this before.”
“That’s not what that card is for,” she reminded him.
“My daughter’s back, I don’t need therapy anymore. I need her to be healthy.”
“Maybe it’s a good thing.”
“No,” Romana jumped in. “I know what you’re saying. But Matics are time-skippers. It’s what we do. I don’t wanna lose that.”
“I’m just making sure you understand your options,” Leona told her.
“My options,” Romana began before a pause, “are to find the man who did this to me, and make him fix it.”
Mateo shook his head. “I get the impulse. Believe me, I want to ring his neck. But Rule Number Fifteen is probably the most important one when it comes to us, so if you’re going to be a part of our team in any capacity, you will need to learn to follow it. Buddy is powerful, fragile, and whimsical. In my experience, that combination equates to sudden outbursts of excessive retaliation. His objective is to bring a fruit from the past into the future. He has the power to simply go back to the past, and pick one whenever he feels like it. He’s going to extreme lengths to accomplish something stupid and pointless. You can’t reason with someone like that, and we certainly can’t fight him. We try to handle this on our own. Locating him is a last resort.”
“Okay,” Romana agreed. “Then can someone help me get back down to the planet? I want to be there when Dubra wakes up.”
“Okay, but then we’re talking about Snake Island,” Mateo called to her as she was trying to leave.
“Whatever, just let me get this gown off!
Leona sighed. “We’re not going to Snake Island.”
“Leona...”
“We’re not going to Snake Island. We like Dr. Hammer, but we don’t know her all that well. Your own cousin became an adversary in the Third Rail. We need to be cautious, and follow the rules. Now go get your daughter, and go down to see your other daughter.”
Ramses’ ground lab was a lot bigger and better than the one he had in the pocket dimension attached to the ship. He had been wanting this forever, and finally found a place to build it. Starter nanites constructed it for him while they were gone, with the first room being dedicated to the Insulator of Life, as well as the equipment necessary to produce a new body.
Mateo peered at it, floating there in its amniotic tank. “What DNA did you end up using, since we don’t have hers. I assumed it would just be one of those public-use template things.”
Ramses was running through his tasklist before the download procedure. “Uh...don’t worry about it.”
“I wasn’t too terribly worried before, but now I really am. What did you do?”
“It’s fine, don’t—it’s fine.”
“Ramses Abdulrashid,” Mateo enunciated like a disappointed parent.
“Yours,” Ramses answered. “Yours and Leona’s. I mixed them together, like what would happen if you had your own kid.”
The room grew extremely tense. “Oh,” Romana said quietly and accidentally.
“Ramses. Leona and I did conceive twins. She lost them.”
“This isn’t either of them,” Ramses reasoned. “Couples have multiple kids, they don’t look the same. The DNA always combines differently.”
“Ramses,” Mateo said once more. “You can’t give my daughter that I had with Serif a body created from what might have become the daughter that Leona and I had together. It will remind her of that trauma.”
“Well, I can’t undo it.”
“Make her a new one.”
“What?”
“Make a new body.”
“Well, what am I meant to do with this one?” Ramses questioned.
“Whatever you do with it, don’t tell anyone; least of all my wife. Start over, and just use one of the templates.”
Ramses breathed deeply, and looked over at Romana as if she would somehow be able to alter the outcome of this situation. It didn’t matter how either of them felt about it. This was Mateo’s decision, and nothing was going to change it. Mateo shut his eyes and nodded. “Okay. It will be another year for us. I’ve obviously developed a method of accelerating time to expedite the maturation process, but I still don’t have it down to less than a day.”
“Sorry, kid,” Mateo said to Romana. He then looked back over at Ramses. “Get it going, and automate the process. Then focus on my other daughter. Let her jump with us. She shouldn’t have to wait a whole other year.”
Ramses got to work on the second major project, but couldn’t figure it out. The team jumped forward without her, and came back to a seventeen-year-old. Fortunately, she wasn’t alone. Now with access to the lab, she was able to initiate the download process herself, and meet Dubravka for real. They had grown quite close over the last several months.

Friday, January 3, 2025

Microstory 2315: Earth, August 21, 2178

Generated by Google ImageFX text-to-image AI software, powered by Imagen 3
Dear Corinthia,

I was so pleased to hear from you, I had to write back to you right away. Unfortunately, my father is out of town at the moment, and unreachable. As soon as he gets back online, I’ll write again with a full report on his involvement in this unforgivable betrayal. I don’t want to dismiss your struggles on Vacuus, but things are not all that great here either. I don’t know what kind of updates you receive from Earth, but it has become a harsh and uninviting place in its own right. The air has become poisoned with a cocktail of chemicals created by a number of competing corporations in their attempt to monopolize the world’s food supply. Some were trying to develop perfect environments for their own crops, while others were attacking their competitors, or they were hedging their bets, and doing both. This has left us with a toxic atmosphere that could take decades to clear up, and that’s only assuming the corporations don’t push on, and make things worse. I live in a giant floating dome on the ocean, which is both sealed off from the noxious fumes, and isolated from the Corporate Wars, which have been raging for 18 years now. That is why father is away at the moment. He and the ambassador are trying to negotiate a trade deal with a nearby land dome. They are running out of space, but we are running out of resources. We’re relatively new, and healthy, but I have not always lived here, and I have seen how bad things can get on the outside. So, sister, I’m not so sure that I should count myself the lucky one. We would both die by opening our respective doors, but at least no one did it to you on purpose. Even so, with all that I have been through over the course of the 36 years that you and I have been alive, I know that I am more fortunate than most people here. There are those who do not even have access to one of the domes. They found pockets of technically survivable air in the deepest corners of the planet, so they don’t die in a matter of hours, but their lifespans are quite short when compared to ours. On a personal note, I would like to thank you for reaching out to me. I never would have known that you existed. Father is not the kind of person who would confess something like that, even on his deathbed. He will be taking a number of grudges and secrets to his grave. Again, I’ll write again once I learn more from him. There also might be others here who know what happened, and exactly why.

Your other half,

Condor Sloane