Microstory 2483: Campodome

< > Table of Contents

Generated by Google Gemini Pro text-to-video AI software, powered by Veo 3

Camping has never gone out of style, but it’s had its ups and downs. Once our ancestors invented computers, they realized how disruptive it was to be away from their devices. People in the 19th century were basically, like, “camping is just living without being in a building, and peeing in the woods”. Over time, the gap between regular urban living and camping in a tent widened. Then we started developing better portable energy storage, and more prolific satellite connectivity, and it started going back the other way in many respects. You could go out to the middle of the woods, and enjoy nature, while still maintaining a connection to the outside world, to just about whatever degree you wanted. There were snobs, of course, who said that you really shouldn’t have anything, and to a certain extent, I agree. Glamping is what they called it when you basically lived in a tiny home with no sacrifice of amenities. Really, what’s the point? The leaders on Castlebourne couldn’t answer that either, so it doesn’t exist here. There are all kinds of other camping formats, though. Forest, prairie, desert, even wetlands, and snow camping. What people don’t realize is that each dome is large enough to be fully capable of supporting a diverse multi-biome ecology. You just have to tailor the terrain to fit what you need, and maybe add a bit of scientific intervention. Colder regions are near the top of a mountain range, as you might expect it on Earth. It doesn’t have seasons, since the kind of engineering that would require is just a little beyond what’s practical. It’s not impossible, but it’s more logical to divide climates up by areas. You choose where you wanna camp, and how you wanna do it. Some people go out there and totally rough it. They have no supplies, no food, maybe not even clothes. There’s a subculture of people who go out there totally naked and alone, and survive on their skills.

As I said, there are no seasons, though these survivalists can replicate them by moving to different spots. I will say that that’s not quite right, because if you really wanted to start your journey in Spring, and see how you fared when the weather changed, you would build your shelter as well as you possibly can, and wait for it to become necessary. That’s not a feasible option when your campsite has to shift in order to account for that journey. So maybe they can improve upon that. I know it’s not easy, and maybe they shouldn’t try. After all, that’s why the flying spaghetti monster made Earth, because it already has everything you need, and the cycles kind of take care of themselves. I’ve not mentioned it yet, but there are hiking and backpacking routes, if you like to stay on the move. Some of them are pretty long, but nothing that compares to the grueling trek of the Pacific Crest or Appalachian Trails. There’s just not enough space. There might be a dome out there that winds you around enough times to cover that distance, but it’s not here. This is mostly about the camping and again, some things probably should be left to the homeworld. We didn’t spend decades rewilding the surface exclusively to leave it to nature. We still allow ourselves access to that nature, and are encouraged to camp when we feel like it. So, is this place better at what it does? No, I shouldn’t think so. You’re still in a snowglobe. You will always know it’s artificial. And it’s nothing we don’t have elsewhere, unlike say, the waterpark in Flumendome, or the realm in Mythodome, but it’s still pretty nice. I certainly wouldn’t cast your consciousness here with the express intention of coming to this dome, but it’s a great option if you’re already here, and need to take a break from civilization.

Microstory 2479: Glaciadome

< > Table of Contents

Generated by Google Gemini Pro text-to-video AI software, powered by Veo 3

Brr, chicken! That’s what my dad used to say. Brr, chicken! It’s cold up here. There is not much dihydrogen monoxide on Castlebourne—compared to say, Earth or Europa, but there is some. Some of it is in the form of water ice, and some of that in the form of glaciers. The largest of these is called Sanaa Glacier. I’m not sure where the name comes from, but I’m guessing this Sanaa woman isn’t too happy about it. The Sanaa Glacier is up there in the northern hemisphere, not too far from Aquilonian Deep. It’s about 2.16 million square kilometers in area, which makes it the largest region on the planet that is not covered by domes. That is for an obvious reason, which is that glaciers, by definition, are always on the move. They move very, very slowly, but they are not still. They’re never still. You can imagine that erecting a dome on top of one is difficult at best, and quite risky. Yet they did it. Glaciadome sits right in the middle of Sanaa, which is the most stable part of it. It’s not immune to the glacier’s movements, but it’s your safest bet. It’s unlike any other dome on the planet. It’s totally unique. Instead of being made out of the usual graphene composite, its frame is instead composed of carbon nanotubes, which can be made to be more flexible. That’s why we use them for space elevator tethers. Instead of diamonds, the panels are made out of a more flexible polycarbonate. This allows the dome to shudder and shake as the glacier flows, and against the extremely heavy winds outside. There’s an old saying, if it doesn’t bend, it’ll break, and that’s true. Glaciadome will survive over time because it’s designed to withstand the stress of movement without buckling. It’s not completely impenetrable, and it’s not nearly as strong as the other domes, but it does its job, and it does it well. You can tell that it works too, because while you can’t physically feel the glacier’s flow unless you’re an advanced lifeform with the right onboard sensors, you can certainly hear it. It’s always screamin’ at ya while the ice breaks and slides. Why do this? Why build a dome on top of something so unstable, in such a hostile environment? Well, what the hell are we doing here if we’re not engineering megastructures for the sake of the challenge. Do you need any other reason? I surely don’t. Researchers live here to be closer to what they’re studying, such as the geologic history of this planet, the composition of the water and ice, and of course, the glacier itself. There are also some winter sports here, like dog sledding, and cross-country skiing, but it’s not as comprehensive as Winterbourne Park. A lot of it has to do with the novelty of the experience. You can live in an igloo, or an ice palace. You can go cold-weather camping, or just make snow angels. It may not be as exciting as one of the adventure domes, but it gives you what it promises. And for me, that’s enough.

Microstory 2436: Tundradome

< > Table of Contents

Generated by Google Gemini Pro text-to-video AI software, powered by Veo 3

It’s just a big tundra, what do you want from me? It’s even worse than one of the desert domes, because it’s cold. I know, that’s obviously the point, tundras are supposed to be cold. I don’t know what I was expecting, but there’s just nothing here. They don’t even have animals running around, which you would find in a real tundra. I did get the sense that this dome was unfinished, but also not a priority, but there wasn’t anyone around to explain it to me. The vactrain stopped here, I walked through the doors, and I was outside. I went back into the lobby to see if I needed to sign in, or something, but there really wasn’t anyone around. They didn’t even have a help button on the wall. Surely they wouldn’t have let me come here if it was legitimately closed to visitors. There were others who showed up a few minutes after me. We didn’t talk, but they seemed pleased. They stopped a few hundred meters from the entrance, and I guess admired the beauty before them. Then they picked up their gear, and walked away. I assume they went off to camp somewhere, but I don’t know for sure. I doubt they went far, because they were carrying their stuff in their hands, instead of in packs. Listen to me, reviewing the other visitors as if that matters. I should have asked them real quick if maybe I missed something. Like, maybe there’s a different entrance where they went to first, or they messaged someone ahead of time. I could contact customer relations, but I think writing this review is as far as I’m gonna take it. It’s clearly only meant to be a tundra as that’s the name. They’re never going to add activities or adventures, so no matter how much they work on it, I’m never gonna wanna come back. I don’t suggest you do either. If you want to camp, try Foggy Forest. At least they have trees there.

Microstory 2404: Winterbourne Park

< > Table of Contents

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

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

Microstory 2299: Panic Attack

< > Table of Contents

Generated by Google Gemini Advanced text-to-image AI software, powered by Imagen 3

We’re putting the finishing touches on the arrangements for the memorial service tomorrow. It’s going to be a lovely, mostly somber event. But it won’t just be all wails and cursing at the gods. We’ll be playing both of their favorite music; moreso Dutch, since he had more time to develop a taste for what this planet has to offer. I’ll be giving the eulogy, of course, and I’m really nervous about it. I’ve never spoken in front of this many people before. The publicist keeps reminding me that I already have a huge audience, because Nick managed to build one for this blog, and I’ve been posting on it exclusively for days. That’s an interesting way to frame it, and I’m trying to hold onto that. You’ve been listening to me talk for a while now, even before Nick died; it’s just that it’s been through the written word, and now you’re going to hear my real voice, and see my real face. Oh God, I think I’m having a panic attack.

All right, I’m back. That white space between paragraphs is where that panic attack happened, but I’m okay. As a medical professional, I know all the tricks, but it’s one thing to give advice to someone else, and another to follow through when you need it yourself. I closed the lid of my laptop, shut the shades, and turned off all the lights. I sat upright in the hotel bed, and focused on my breathing. Despite the darkness, I could make out enough objects in the room. I could see the television on the opposite wall; the painting hanging over the refrigerator, depicting a frozen ice skating pond with scratches on the surface, but no skaters; the faint outline of the DO NOT DISTURB sign; the luggage I had sprawled out on the other bed; and the half empty glass of water on the nightstand. No, it wasn’t half empty, but half full. I could touch the soft sheets I was sitting upon; my overheated phone that I’ve been meaning to upgrade; the highlighter that I was using while researching eulogy commonalities; and the brass gooseneck reading lamp coming from the wall above the headboard. I could hear the sound of children running in the halls while their mother tried to shush them up; the hum of the furnace; and the ticking of the analog clock by the door to the bathroom. I could smell the half eaten box of cheese crackers on the table in the corner; and something dank that I couldn’t place wafting in through the vents. I could taste the toothpaste in my mouth that I should have more thoroughly rinsed out before I sat down to write this post.

I had to take another break, which is why I’m posting this later than usual. Everything is okay, and I think I’m gonna be okay, but as the memorial approaches, it’s like it’s all happening again. I never talked about it before, and I will probably never publicly go into too much detail, but obviously, I was there when they died. I remember the lurch of the vehicle as we slid on the ice, and finally came to a stop. I remember running out of the car, and one of the security guards holding me back so I couldn’t see the wreckage. I remember seeing the wreckage anyway, and feeling the heat from the flames on my face, which felt like they were going to burn me, yet somehow still could not protect my toes from freezing under the tyranny of the snow as it seeped into my socks. I remember thinking that no one could have survived that fall, even though I was still bleary eyed, and confused. There was no hope, and now these memories are coming back, which will only make the eulogy harder to write, and even harder to give. I need a third break.

Microstory 2298: With All the Snow and Ice

< > Table of Contents

Generated by Google Gemini Advanced text-to-image AI software, powered by Imagen 3

I’m writing this on the plane. I spent all day at the airport, because my flight kept getting delayed. There’s a big snowstorm in the east that I feel shouldn’t have much impact on my flight up to Chicago, but what do I know? The purpose of leaving one day early was to get a jump in the preparations for Nick and Dutch’s memorial, but it looks like that’s not going to do me any good. Still, who knows what would have happened if I had just stuck to my original flight tomorrow. Anyway, I bought the WiFi, and have maintained contact with the publicity firm and the venue. Everything is fine, and getting set up. A word of warning, we have not set aside any hotel accommodations for this event. People have been asking about that, and I totally forgot to tell you before. You have to work through that on your own. I’m sorry, but this is so last minute, and we have no idea who is going to come. Perhaps if we had taken more time, we could have done a lot more on our end, but at some point, it would have felt like a little too much. Sure, we have money, but that doesn’t mean we’re gonna spend it on frivolity. Nick wouldn’t like that. It’s not a party, it’s not a convention, it’s a farewell. And it will be streamed online, so if you can’t make it, it’s not like you’re missing out. We actually considered that at the very beginning, holding it in a very small venue, and letting other people be part of it from the comfort of their own homes. Thinking back now, he might have preferred that, because then we’re letting it be available passively, instead of expecting a large crowd. But it’s too late now, and I don’t want to dwell on the past. This is what we’re doing, and it’s going to go great. I’ll see some of you Friday. Until then (and even afterwards), stay safe out there with all the snow and ice. Trust me, I know how dangerous it can be.

Microstory 2083: For Free Candy

< > Table of Contents

Generated by Google Gemini Advanced text-to-image AI software, powered by Stable Diffusion

Today was pretty much exactly as it was yesterday, except I worked second shift, instead of the first one. We hung out in the greenhouse while the boss stayed in the main building to greet customers. She would call us up whenever she needed help. I could practically copy my post from yesterday, and paste it here, and it would hardly be inaccurate. The weather is still crap, though it’s not as windy or snowy, which is nice. I thought maybe that there would be just a few more customers, but it was the same. We keep track of the number of people who come in, and the number of parties. Somebody smart wrote a computer program that logs this stuff for us using the main entrance security camera. It doesn’t have any facial recognition software built in, so it’s not totally accurate. For instance, if you realized you forgot your wallet, ran back out to get it, and then opened the door again, it would log you twice, because it wouldn’t know that you were the same person. Anyway, that doesn’t happen a whole lot, so we’re not worried about any auditing issues. The total number of visitors today was nearly identical to yesterday. I’m not good with numbers, but I like to explore trends like that, to see if I understand them. It reminds me of how my parents would always log visitors on Halloween. Oh, that’s right. You don’t have that holiday in this world. It involves children going door to door to ask for free candy. I wonder whether they still do that.

Ya know, I don’t think I’ve mentioned my family yet. Bulk travel is a form of time travel, but I’ve not seen them in over 25 years. So if I were to return to a point in their timeline that matches my own personal timeline, they would be in their eighties. They could be gone by now. But again, the timelines don’t match up, so I could also go back, and not a second will have passed. Or I could go back to before I even left, or before I was born, or before they were born. Heh, time, right? Back to the weather, why were the numbers about the same, even though it wasn’t precipitating as hard? It’s because of the roads. I always forget about the roads. It was really bad last night—even worse than it was to drive while it was still happening during the day before—so people did not want to go out after that. All schools in the area were canceled, which is why the high school student who works here picked up an extra shift. I think she’s my favorite out of all the humans I’ve met on this version of Earth. She seems to be the only other person who recognizes how unexciting it is, besides maybe those people who answered my weird ad. Though to be fair, they didn’t appear to have any strong feelings about the nature of the world. They were just behaviorally divergent. Speaking of which, I should probably reach out to them; make sure they’re doing okay.

Microstory 2082: Too Happy Here

< > Table of Contents

Generated by Google Gemini Advanced text-to-image AI software, powered by Imagen 2

The meal with my landlord went great. I’m glad I went with the easier recipe, though I may try to challenge myself more next time. We’re going to try to have dinner together twice a week from now on, though when I get my own place, that may change. I made enough so we could have leftovers today, and I couldn’t wait to eat it because it meant that I could sit in the break room for thirty minutes. It’s heated. The nursery is a mostly outdoor spot, as you can imagine. There’s a building, but it’s chock full of plants, particularly ones that I’m allergic too. I try not to spend too much time in there. I seem to be okay outside, or when I’m in the greenhouses. That’s where we spent the majority of our time. It’s snowing and blowing, so it sucks to have to work outside, but it also means that not many customers show up, so we don’t have to do much outside. The boss doesn’t like us to just be sitting around doing nothing, because there is always a plant in need of attention, but she exempts us from that rule on days like this. She volunteered to stand guard while we hung out, but we had our radios on hand. All she had to do was press the button three times, and one of us would run up to help. If she had clicked it four times, that would have meant that two of us needed to go. It didn’t happen much, but when it did, I always agreed to go back, since I’m still the new guy. She’s not going to spend too much time training the temp, because he doesn’t seem to be too happy here, so we don’t think he’ll ask for a permanent position. She’s still looking for someone new while the authorities are looking for our missing coworker.

Microstory 2040: Wisconsin

< > Table of Contents

My fathers’ bad luck continued as they were trying to fly from Alaska to New Jersey. They were supposed to make a stop in Chicago, which is where my papa used to live, but that’s not what happened. On their way on the first plane, another passenger got really drunk, and started misbehaving. He was causing problems for everyone, and being really rude, so the pilot had no choice but to land the plane at a different airport to let him off. They even had to have the police waiting for him there. The closest one was this little airport called Southern Wisconsin Regional Airport. It wasn’t really built for planes like that, so it took them a long time to get through all the stuff with the police, and start trying to fly again. By the time they were ready, they couldn’t leave anyway, because of a snowstorm that had formed over Canada. If that guy had just not gotten drunk, they would have arrived in New Jersey on time. Honestly, it’s kind of scary for me to think about, though. They had to spend one night in Wisconsin until the storm passed, and then they were able to fly again. By the time they made it to New Jersey, though, the child they were going to adopt had already gone to another family. They were too late. They would have to wait a few months longer. They had to wait for me. I, for one, am glad that they did.

Microstory 2039: Alaska

< > Table of Contents

Like I said, it took a long time for me to get adopted. While they were working on it, my fathers put off their honeymoon. They got married in 2015, but it was 2017, and they still hadn’t gone on it yet. It was looking like they were going to have to wait even longer for me to be ready to come home with them, so they decided to finally go on the trip. It was almost the wintertime, but they had their hearts set on an Alaska vacation, so that’s where they went. It was really, really, really cold there, but they still had fun. They slept in a cabin, but it was heated, and they packed a lot of clothing. While they were there, they got a call from the adoption agency, telling them that a child was ready, but they had to get to New Jersey right away. They hadn’t gotten much time to relax. They quickly packed up their belongings, and got back to the airport. The problem was that there weren’t any flights until the next day. It was a really stressful time for them. They didn’t get to enjoy very much of Alaska, but they said it was beautiful. My papa used the word gorgeous to describe it.

The Advancement of Mateo Matic: April 18, 2409

« < » > Table of Contents

Generated by Google Workspace Labs text-to-image AI software

No one came for them. Constance detected an unusual energy draw that came from the Dante, to their mysterious captors, which occurred at exactly midnight central, but other than that, nothing happened. They didn’t even lose much power as a result of whatever that was. Perhaps it was just a strange way of scanning them, because a few minutes later, the cargo hold opened up again, and spit them out unharmed. The ship accelerated to higher speeds, and then disappeared with a reframe engine.

“What the hell was that?” Olimpia questioned.

“No idea,” Leona answered, “but it’s April 18 2409.” She took a pause. “Constance, run a level three diagnostic on all systems.”

“There’s no such thing as a level three diagnostic,” Constance replied. “You made that up.”

“Actually, I can’t take credit.”

“Right away, sir,” Constance said with a slight smile. She went off to complete the task as requested. No sooner was she finished with it, having turned up nothing of interest or concern, did another ship appear out of nowhere. This one was much smaller—and less foreboding—and it responded to their calls.

“Hello, this is the Dardieti Outpost Boyce Shuttle One. Do I have a Mateo Matic on the line?”

“This is Mateo. Go ahead.”

“I’ve been rerouted to find you. It’s taken me a long time, but we received the message you sent out last year. Your presence has been requested on Dardius proper.”

“For what purpose?” Leona asked.

“It has something to do with the future, and your family, or the future of your family,” Boyce One replied. “That’s all I know. I’ve given the message, and confirmed that you’ve received it. Now I really must return to my work. This has been a really...” He mumbled and trailed off a little before remembering to switch off the mic.

“Thank you, Boyce One. If it is required of you, you can let them know that we are on our way, and that we’ll be there as soon as possible. We’re on our pattern.”

He didn’t say anything further, but he surely heard the last message. His little ship flew off in the same direction as the other one, though not at reframe speeds. Dardieti Outpost. How many of those were there, and where? All the way out here, they were nearly three million light years from home. This meant that that was how far Team Matic was going to have to travel to reach it themselves. The Dante wasn’t any more capable of crossing that distance in any reasonable span of time than the Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez was. With only the reframe engine, it would take them four thousand years. They either needed to reach out to their friends with true faster-than-light capabilities, or a Nexus. Though, the Dante could not fit inside of a Nexus transport cavity, so if they used that method, it would have to be jury-rigged, and they only ever got that to work in the Parallel.

“Does anyone live near the Nexus in Antarctica?” Angela asked.

“No, they abandoned the continent entirely,” Leona explained. “There was a time when people were able to live there because climate breakdown made it more hospitable to humans, but then they started to solve those problems, and made it colder again. They could still survive there if they wanted to, of course, but the population eventually dwindled into nothing. Either way, they weren’t in that region, no.”

“He asked about me,” Mateo pointed out. “Not the rest of you. He didn’t say anything about the rest of the team. I can go alone.”

“We’re not headed to enemy territory, Matty,” Ramses said with a laugh. “We can go. Might as well. I hear it sports some nice vacation spots. I was too busy to partake when I was living there before. Maybe we’ll get lucky, and we won’t be there to solve some kind of crisis.”

“It clearly took years for us to get the message,” Leona reasoned, “and could take us years of real time to arrive. I detected no sense of urgency in the messenger’s voice.”

“Maybe that had more to do with the messenger himself,” Marie reasoned right back. “Just because he wasn’t in a hurry doesn’t mean there is no hurry.”

“True. Dante?” Leona started tapping on the main console. “Teleport to these coordinates please.”

“Teleporting now.”

The darkness of space they could see through the viewscreens was replaced by the brightness of the snow. They opened the hatch, and let in the cold. It was a surreal feeling, knowing that it was profoundly frigid out here, but being basically unfazed by it. Ramses’ 3.0 model substrates were working well for them, and they were already clearly better than the previous model. “Hey, Dante, what’s the exact temperature?”

“It’s negative forty degrees,” Dante responded.

“Is that Fahrenheit or Celsius?” Olimpia asked.

Leona and Constance laughed. “Yes.”

“Why is that so funny?” Mateo questioned.

“They’re the same,” Leona explained.

The two of them stared at her.

“They’re the same at that degree,” Constance clarified. “They converge.”

“Got it. Thanks. Now it’s funny.” Not really.

“It’s underground, right?” Marie moves on from the subject. “How do we find it?”

“Hey, Opsocor!” Leona shouted into the wind aimlessly.

They heard the sound of metal against metal behind the Dante. They turned the corner to find a hidden trap door opening for them several meters away. They walked over to it and hopped inside.

“Opsocor, please teleport us to the main floor.”

Nothing happened.

“Wait, we can’t just teleport ourselves?” Angela asked.

“Can you?” Leona asked. “We’re not authorized to do so. The system is quite sophisticated.”

“Maybe it will work for you since you’re the one who got this giant hatch open,” Mateo suggested. “Leona, Queen of the Nexus.”

“That’s not the real problem. If Opsocor can’t do it, maybe she can’t do anything.” Still, she jumped herself away. Ten minutes later, she was knocking on the next hidden trapdoor, which they had to open from this side. They  jumped down to the second level, and then did it again to get to the control room below that.

“Is everything okay?” Ramses asked.

“No,” Leona answered with a sigh. “She’s not responding to me. I don’t know why not. But nothing is turning on either, except for this emergency lighting.”

“I wanted to wait until everyone was here,” Opsocor’s voice came in through the speakers. “I am a prerecorded facsimile of the one you know as Venus Opsocor. I have access control over the system, which allows me to let in anyone for safety concerns, or in your case, to explain what’s happened. This Nexus building has been taken offline. It has been too significantly altered, and therefore automatically removed from the network. It is incapable of transporting anyone anywhere. Do not attempt to—no. Yes, sorry. Shifting response path. You are indeed authorized to make attempts at repair. I am unable to run diagnostic tests, or provide you with any technical specifications, or troubleshooting assistance. Again, this is a prerecorded facsimile with limited response paths. I was not made aware of what has been broken within the system. I am here as a result of whatever those changes were, which you will have to correct yourself if you want to bring the station back to operational standards. Do not attempt to converse with me. I will not respond to any calls. This message will not be repeated. Thank you, and have a nice rest of your life.”

“So essentially,” Marie began, “it’s broken, but the AI doesn’t know how it’s broken, because that message was recorded just in case something like this happened.”

“It’s not an AI, it’s a real person,” Ramses corrected.

“Yeah,” Leona agreed. She got on her hands and knees, and started to get to work on the main computer.

Meanwhile, Mateo was shining his watch light through the observation window, and trying to use his arms to block ambient light from his eyes. “I think I know what’s wrong with it,” he declares.

Leona got up. “You do?”

“Don’t look so surprised. Can you get the lights on in the Nexus chamber? The drum is missing.”

“The drum?” Leona asked, confused.

“I don’t know what it’s called. It’s the giant thing that hangs over the cavity.”

“Uhh...I don’t know how to get the lights on manually.” She opened the door from the control room, and walked down the steps as everyone else followed. She used her light illusion ability to conjure a nano-sun on the ceiling, which illuminated the whole chamber. Mateo was right, it was totally missing. “That’s not a drum, Mateo. That is the Nexus. Everything else is either just the interface to it, or lets you control the rest of the building, like the lights. It’s really the only thing you need, and somebody took it. They took the whole thing out. What’s left doesn’t even look damaged.”

“What should we do?” Constance asked. “I don’t have the data on this thing; I wasn’t allowed, but I’m still smart, so I could help.”

“There’s no way to fix it. It’s like a car without an engine, or a boat without water. There’s nothing to repair. We would have to get it back, or replace it. I wouldn’t know how to build one. She told us that we won’t be able to read the manual, and I’ve seen the guts inside before, but not enough to recreate it from nothing. At this point, our only hope is to call the Jameela Jamil.”

“Okay, we’ll do that,” Mateo decided.

“There’s another option, if we don’t want to bother Team Keshida with this,” Ramses said.

“What would that be?”

“We could try to find the second Nexus on Earth.”

« < » > Table of Contents

The Advancement of Mateo Matic: February 14, 2399

« < » > Table of Contents

It was clear to Leona that Connell was never in the military, nor law enforcement. He was a wretched shot. He was just holding up his gun, and waving it around aimlessly, hoping to eventually hit something. She took it from him, and shot all of the henchmen in the legs. “I’m letting you live,” she announces, “not so you can come after me later, but so you can lick your wounds, and move on with your lives. Your boss is dead. He betrayed me, and karma paid him for it. Leave me alone, or the next time I’m holding a gun, I’ll aim higher. If I later decide that Labhrás is entitled to vengeance, I’ll take care of it myself, and send you the bill.” Satisfied that the firefight was over, Leona went with Connell to Dublin Airport. So they were in Ireland, or at least what’s left of it since most of the North Atlantic Isles were transported to the Fourth Quadrant.

The flight was the longest she’s ever experienced. After a long layover who knows where, it’s turned out that they’ve flown all the way down to Antarctica. Specifically, they’re landing at the Mozambican Naval Fleet Base. This still doesn’t explain who this Connell is, or who his boss might be, but it’s a lead. Technically, it’s not impossible that Coronel Zacarias is the one who is responsible for the bounty, but it’s pretty far-fetched. They left on great terms, and she gave him her contact info, so he would not have needed to set up this crazy elaborate plan to get someone else to kill her. Her guess is that she was right when she thought it was possible that someone had invaded and taken over the Nexus research facility. She’s proven right when they walk inside, and see the people milling about. These are definitely not Mozambican sailors. They’re dressed funny, but not unfamiliarly. She’s seen this kind of clothing before. Where was it?

“Oh, Christ, you’re from the Fifth Division.”

“Precisely, my dear!”

“How the hell did you get here?”

“That is not my right to tell,” Connell replies. “The boss will want to speak with you. It could be today, it could be tomorrow. It could be years from now. You’ll just have to hang out in hock and wait until he’s good and goddamn ready.”

They’ve just entered the hock section when a man jogs up. “Sir. It’s for you?” He hands Connell a comms device.

“Yes?” he asks the person on the other end. “I understand. No, right away, sir.” He hands the device back, and tries to say something to Leona, but she’s distracted.

“I’m okay,” Coronel Zacarias tells her from his cell. “I’m gonna need you to put on a brave face for me, okay?”

“Why didn’t you call?” Leona asks him.

“We’re leaving,” Connell insists, trying to pull her away.

“Get your hands off me,” Leona demands. “I won’t ask a second time.”

“I’m taking you to the boss.”

Leona twists his arm, and flips him onto his back. She steals his gun, and shoots the nearest other Fifth Divisioners. She hits him in the legs again, but she’s prepared to aim higher, like she promised the Irish gangsters.

“Stop!” Connell orders his men before they get the chance to shoot her back. “Stop! She must live!”

Leona lowers the gun to train it on Connell’s forehead. “I left you my number.”

“There was nothing that you could do,” Coronel Zacarias explains. “You would not have been able to come in time.”

“I could teleport.”’

“You can?”

“Well...not anymore, but when this happened, it’s possible. You should have reached out,” Leona reasons.

Zacarias shakes his head. “It would have only placed you in danger along with us. They didn’t know we knew each other. I never told them. They only know now because we’re talking.”

“I’m here now. I’ll get you out.”

“Don’t worry about us.”

She is worried about him. She feels like this is her fault, and it probably is. It usually is. Can she break him out? She could take out all these guys like John Wick before even one of them gets a shot off. The Crucia Heavy doesn’t like firearms, and taught her and Ellie to dislike them too, but she trained them on targeting anyway. It doesn’t matter how good of a fighter you are, you’re not faster than a bullet, and sometimes the only way to stop them from flying towards you is to send your own. Still, even if she got these people out of the cells, what would they do then? Would they escape? That would be a tall order. She has no way off the continent. She doesn’t have any control over the base’s systems, and Zacarias almost certainly doesn’t either. It is as they say, the only way out is through. She’s going to have to be diplomatic. Ugh. She’s no good at that anymore, especially not since her training on Flindekeldan. She carelessly drops the gun on Connell’s chest. “No! Touching!”

Connell is winded. “Yeah. Never again.” He struggles to get himself back to his feet, but slaps the guy who tries to help him away. “Never again,” he repeats. He brushes the dust off his pants, and takes a deep transitional breath. “Now, if you’ll follow me...” He holds his arms out to indicate the direction they’ll be going.

She lunges towards him by only a few centimeters to test his reaction. He flinches, so that’s good to know.

Connell leads her down the corridors, and up the elevator to the top level. It’s above ground and on the far end, allowing them to see the cliff and sea before them on one side, and the snow covered land on the other. “This is as far as I go.”

Leona looks at the ominous door. “Sleep with one eye open,” she warns.

He’s unable to hide a shiver. He starts to walk back the way they came.

Leona readies herself, then opens the door without knocking. Time freezes in her head as she considers who may be on the other side of it. If she didn’t know that this had something to do with her time in the Fifth Division, she may have guessed past and future greatest hits, like Erlendr or Zeferino Preston. Or maybe it’s someone who was actually a friend before, like Serkan Demir or Pribadium Delgado. Those being so random, and having nothing to do with any of these other people here, she dismisses them. She has narrowed it down to Mithridates Preston, Xerian Oyana, or that security guard that they left at the entrance to the time machine that ultimately led them here. They all have beef with Team Matic, or could have conceivably developed one in the meantime. They parted on all right terms, but who knows what has happened since then? The suspect is standing behind a desk, his back to her. She approaches him as he turns around to face her. She winces when she sees his face. “Who the hell are you?”

The Advancement of Mateo Matic: January 24, 2399

« < » > Table of Contents

There is something wrong with Alyssa’s brain. Or her body. Or both. Or maybe there’s something wrong with Leona’s body instead. Ramses’ current theory—with no evidence—is that whoever wants Leona Matic to die had a two-fold plan to accomplish it. Step one: get her into Leona Reaver’s body. Step two: prevent her from leaving that body, or coming back to her real body. To put it another way, they locked her in, and just in case she ever found a way to break free, they also locked her out of her own body. Alyssa is just kind of caught in the crossfire of that. Now that she’s here, she is unable to leave, because it would open a vacancy for Leona’s return, and their enemy does not want that to happen.

Ramses also believes that it’s possible for Alyssa to look more like herself before he comes up with a permanent solution. Time powers are apparently more mental than they are physical, meaning that there’s a chance she can create illusions from here. He said that it can’t hurt to try, so she did a few times, but she never even came close. It didn’t feel like it did when she used her ability before. The way she sees it, it would be like transferring the mind of someone with legs into the body of an amputee, and expecting them to walk again just because they remember what it was once like. Still, she doesn’t want to give up, so when he urged her to meditate in order to reactivate that side of herself, she decided that she might as well. She’s been spending most waking hours doing it, if awake is even the right word. In the darkened room there are only candles, a pillow to sit upon, and a mirror in front of her. She has to force herself to concentrate and not check it every ten minutes. When she does check it, the result is always the same. She still looks like Leona, and that is probably never going to change.

“Okay,” Alyssa says to herself. “You can’t look for another hour. How am I meant to know when it’s been an hour? Well, people who are good at meditating probably develop the magical power to automatically know things like that, so you’re off to another bad start. Just close your eyes, and stop thinking.” She holds there for what may be the hour that she was waiting for, or just another ten minutes. “Stop. Thinking. You think too much.”

“I agree,” comes a voice.

She’s scared to check. Was that in her head, or is someone else in the room? It didn’t sound like Ramses, or anyone else she knows. “Is that you, God?”

“Close. I’m a hawk. Majestic creatures.”

Alyssa opens one eye. She’s not in the meditation room anymore. She has no idea where she is. She opens the other eye. “What just happened?”

“I brought you back. Your reality needs you,” the mysterious stranger claims.

“Who are you?”

“You don’t recognize me? No, I suppose you wouldn’t in this body. It’s Dalton.”

“Nice to meet you, Dalton...I think.”

“No, we’ve met. I traced your location. This is where I sent you, and it’s where you’ve been. I mean, it was where you were in the future, but it’s the past now.”

“What the hell are you talking about? How far back in the past are we?”

“About four and a half billion years.”

“This again? Goddammit!” Alyssa laments. “Okay, I have power, but I’m not that powerful. You’re telling me I ended up here just because I was meditating?”

“Must have been a coincidence,” Dalton says. “I’m the one who brought you back here, using the temporal translocator.”

“What do you want with me? I’m telling you, we’ve never met. Perhaps there’s another me in another reality, or something? I don’t know, I’m still learning this stuff.”

“Leona, I know that you—”

“Wait, Leona? That’s who you think you’re talking to? Well, that’s your problem, dude. I’m not really Leona. My name is Alyssa McIver. I’m just stuck in her body.”

“Pshaw. I’m the master of switching bodies. You don’t think I would be able to tell? I did my research. I know who you are.”

“Maybe that’s just who the assassin wants you to think. Something went wrong with the switch. We can’t switch back. Maybe it’s, like, masking our neural signatures; making me look like Leona, even from a brain scan. Honestly, now I’m just pulling words I’ve heard Ramses say.”

“So, you admit you’re lying, Leona.”

“That’s not what I meant!” She tries to remember what the internet said about meditating and centering one’s self. “Look, Mr. Dalton. I’m sure you have perfectly reasonable intentions, but you got the wrong guy. Why don’t we both just go to 2399, and get this all sorted out, okay?”

“No, I can’t. I can’t use the machine again,” he contends. “Even if you’re not really Leona, you’re close enough. If she switched bodies with you, it means she trusts you, which means you can do this job. I found you by hacking into the Omega Gyroscope, so it thinks you’re Leona too, and in the end, that’s all that really matters.”

“What job are you talking about? What’s the gyroscope thing again? I’ve never seen it, so I can’t remember what they said about it.”

“The Gyroscope is a thing that you own, but you’ll lose possession of it in 50,000 years. I can’t let that happen. Someone has to be in charge, or it won’t work. So I’m going to close the door, and leave you in here. You’ll reconnect to it every 49,000 years.”

“What? No. Don’t do that. What the hell are you doing? Let me out!”

“Don’t worry. The toilet and sink are in the corner. Those shelves are stocked with enough food for a month, but you won’t need it. You’ll only be inside for about five days. Try to get some rest, and don’t let yourself go crazy. It looked like you were meditating. You’ll have plenty of time to perfect your technique.”

“Stop!” Alyssa pleads, trying to keep the door open, but ultimately no match for his strength. “Please! I don’t want to be locked in! Please let me out! Dalton! Dalton!” He wins out, and gets the door closed. She starts to bang on it, and the walls, but receives no response. If anyone can hear her, they don’t care, can’t help, or won’t try. Though, if the time bubble activated immediately, it’s already been over a hundred thousand years for that guy. So she gives up, and just tries to teleport to the other side of the door. It doesn’t work. She spends the next hour-slash 36,000,000 years trying again, and looking for any other way out, but this is a cell designed to keep people in, and is probably inescapable. So she gives up on that too.

Four and a half billion years later, the door pops open on its own, and blinding light floods in through the crack. Alyssa tries to open it more, but there’s something blocking it. She pulls the door in, then back out, then it, then out. It’s going a little farther each time, and the sound it makes sounds familiar. Once her eyes adjust to the sunlight, she can see that it must be snow. It’s all over the place, part of which must be preventing her from getting out. She keeps working at it, though, and eventually shaves off enough to slip out. Wait, no, it’s freezing out here. She goes back inside, and retrieves a heated suit from the emergency kit. They’re thin overalls, but warm enough to handle the coldest of conditions. She takes the rest of the kit with her, and slips out again.

Alyssa comes face to face with a bear, growling at her. At least it looks like a bear, but unlike any kind she’s ever seen before, even in pictures. She realizes that she’s in a cave, and this big fella is the one what lives here. She presses her back against the ice wall behind her, and tries to inch her way to the side, but he doesn’t like that. He doesn’t want her to be there, he doesn’t want her to leave; why can’t this guy make up his mind? That’s when she remembers that she can teleport now. She tries to make a jump to the cave opening behind the bear, but it’s not working. Whatever was preventing her from escaping the stasis chamber is still doing its thing.

The emergency kit. It has a signal pistol. She carefully sets it on the ground, not wanting to make any sudden movements. She opens it slowly, and sticks her hand inside. She starts feeling around for the gun, maintaining eye contact with the bear. He hates it even more when she tries to look away. There it is. She quickly pulls it out, aims it, and shoots. The flare goes towards the bear, but doesn’t hit it. Instead, its lodges itself in the ice wall, and starts spewing out sparks. This is enough to scare the animal into running away from it. Alyssa takes this opportunity to run past it, and out of the cave. She’s not out of the woods yet, though. When the bear recalls that there’s no backdoor, it follows her, and starts to charge. She has to keep running, but she knows that she’s no match for its speed. She can practically feel its breath on the back of her neck when it suddenly disappears. She instinctively spins around, causing her to trip on a rock, and fall to her ass.

The bear is on the ground a few meters down the hill, a wooden pole sticking out of it. No, it’s not a pole. It’s a spear. She turns her head. A man still has his arm forward in the follow-through. Like the bear, though, there’s something very wrong with his face. He looks unlike any man she’s ever seen. It’s sort of flat and uglyish. He has one brow, instead of two, sitting upon a more pronounced forehead. He’s short and wide, but not fat. He does look like he’s smiling at her, though, so he probably was trying to save her life, instead of just wanting to kill the bear. As he approaches, Alyssa instinctively recoils, so he gives her a wider berth, and goes over to retrieve the spear from the bear. It’s still moving a little, so he serves it a death blow to the neck to put it out of its misery.

“Umm...thank you,” Alyssa says to him, still nervous.

He looks at her quizzically, and faces the direction he came from. He grunts something loudly in a language that she doesn’t recognize. A woman appears from behind the hill, carrying a child. He’s maybe four or five years old. She looks more like a regular person, and the child looks like a cross between the two of them.

“Oh! You’re a primacean!” They’re an ancient relative of humans who lived tens of thousands of years ago. Some believe they interbred with modern humans, while others do not. “I guess this proves those people wrong.”

He looks at her quizzically again, as does his mate as she draws nearer.

“The door opened too early,” Alyssa says to herself. “Oh no, this isn’t good. There’s no telling how far off the mark I am; I’m not a historian.”

The massive language barrier made it difficult to communicate, but she was able to determine that they wanted her help transporting their kill back home. She does, and eats with them that night. What else is she gonna do, fix the stasis chamber?

The Advancement of Mateo Matic: August 30, 2398

« < » > Table of Contents

There is a rumor that Earth possesses two Nexa, one of which is hidden on an island in the South Pacific Ocean. If anyone has ever found it, its whereabouts have never made it to Leona. The only one she knows for sure exists is the one in Antarctica, and they only have a rough estimate of where specifically, and that’s just where it is in the main sequence. If it’s anywhere in the Third Rail, it could be just that; anywhere. This is why they weren’t in a big hurry to look for it before. Antarctica is best accessed during its summer months, which begin with October, but even then, it’s better deeper into it. No matter, it’s not like the continent is impossible to traverse in winter, especially not now that The Olimpia has been repaired. Rames managed to equip it with some upgrades, which will allow it to survive under harsher conditions than original specifications ensured.

Marie volunteered to be Mateo’s caretaker. She insisted, since she still feels bad about lying to everybody, and wants to feel useful in a less secret agenty sort of way. He agreed to let her do it without too much reluctance now that there actually is hope in finding a way to let him use his hands again. Cheyenne, meanwhile, has grown tired of sitting around and doing nothing, so she asked to accompany Leona on the Antarctica mission. And of course, wherever Cheyenne goes, so shall Bridgette. Ramses wishes he could be there too, but it’s been decided that one of them had to remain local. The home team might need something invented, fixed, or just explained, so it’s safer to not put all of their smart eggs in one basket.

“I wanted to thank you.” Cheyenne is up with Leona on the bridge, looking at the endless white before them as the Olimpia’s sensors scan the area.

“For letting you come along? No problem. It should be pretty safe.”

“No, I mean for trusting us with everything, and not asking where I came from, or why I need the Insulator of Life.”

“Does your world have the concept innocent until proven guilty?” Leona asks.

“I’ve never heard those exact words, but I think I understand the meaning.”

“You and Bridgette have given us no reason not to trust you, but we have upended your lives. You don’t ever have to tell us where you’re from. We’re used to that being a potential risk. If you’re my daughter from the future, for instance, we shouldn’t know.”

Cheyenne bites her lower lip, and averts her gaze slightly.

Leona doesn’t say anything more about it. The conversation would not have continued anyway. The computer gets a ping.

Bridgette comes down from the back. “I heard a beep. Did we find something?”

“Something is a good word for it,” Leona answers, looking at the datapoint. “We should be coming up on something big in three...two...one. Just over the ridge, they find a manmade structure, built up against the side of a mountain. It looks huge. This should be surprising, but nothing really is to them anymore. They could wake up tomorrow to find the sun has been transformed into a big ball of water, and they wouldn’t even bat an eye. They have seen too much already. It is interesting, though. “This is the most remote region of Antarctica that’s also close to the ocean. Nothing should be here, except for the Nexus. It’s not even populated in the main sequence.”

“Unidentified Flying Aircraft, you have entered a secure area. Please recite your landing codes,” comes a voice on the radio.

“Rule Number Seventeen, when in doubt, be honest.” Leona opens a channel. “Unknown Antarctica base, this is Leona Matic, Captain of the Stateless Private Vehicle Olimpia. We request diplomatic visitor landing authorization. We’re here in search of something known as the Nexus.” She shrugs, hoping they don’t shoot her out of the sky.

There’s a long pause before the voice returns, “authorization granted, please land on the big yellow circle.”

Part of the ground retracts, and reveals the landing pad. Leona instructs the Olimpia to land on it, and as soon as it touches down, the ground begins to lower. It goes down and down and down until reaching the bottom, which is a giant cell. The opening they just came through closes up. People with guns are standing all around them. And by all around them, I mean all around. This cell must be 8,000 cubic meters in volume, but the uniform guards are shoulder to shoulder around the whole perimeter on the other side of the bars. They look highly organized, and well trained.

“What do we do now?” Cheyenne asks.

Leona reaches for the PA system, which she never thought they would ever have to use. “Permission to disembark?”

One of the guards lifts her steady hand from her weapon, and motions them out. The three of them exit the vehicle, and head in that general direction. They all look the same, they can’t even tell which one of them gave them the go-ahead. It doesn’t matter when an old man in a uniform steps into the light. “I am Coronel Zacarias of the Mozambique Naval Fleet. This is my facility, where we research only one thing...the Nexus. How did you hear about it?”

“We’re travelers from a different world. That may get us home.”

Coronel Zacarias regards them with doubt, but he’s willing to entertain them with a leash. He turns to his soldiers. “Open the gate.”

They do as they’re asked without question or hesitation. Leona locks the Olimpia down with her gene-coded remote, and tentatively steps out of the cell. Bridgette and Cheyenne do the same. They begin to follow Zacarias down the passageways, heavily guarded by a dozen of the soldiers, none of whom needed any direction to do this. They apparently just know who has been assigned to their detail, and who must go off and do other things.

“I was this close to shooting you out of the sky,” Zacarias explains on the way. “No one in the world knows that we are here, let alone what we have found. We have been looking for a way to turn the machine on, but have had no luck. That is why I am taking you to it, because if you are telling the truth, you will be able to help us, but if you are lying, nothing will happen, and we will not have to worry. There is a computer in the control room, but it does nothing. We suspect it suffers from a depleted power source, but we have been unable to verify that.”

“I’ll try to help,” Leona replies. They come to a large expanse, like the one where they landed, but instead of a cell in the center, it is the Nexus building. Leona stops. “I should ask you kindly to let my associates remain here, at this distance.”

“Why?” Zacarias questions.

“The Nexus is truly as dangerous as you must suspect it to be, or you would not keep it such a secret. I cannot guarantee what will happen when we walk over there, but I recommend you evacuate the room, and leave only essential personnel.” That’s not really what she’s worried about. The Nexa are alive—or conscious, as it were. They respond differently to different people. She has used them before, and the machine likely knows this. There is a strong chance that it will power up simply by her arrival. She doesn’t want them thinking Bridgette and Cheyenne have anything to do with that.

He scowls just a little. “If this is a trick to overpower my soldiers, I’m afraid you will find yourself severely outmatched.” Zacarias eyes the high walls around them. Turrets line the perimeter. There is no advantage to lowering the number of people over there.”

Leona nods, prompting Zacarias to evacuate most of the scientists. A contingency of four soldiers accompanies them while the other eight escort Cheyenne and Bridgette back out of the great hall. She’s worried about them being separated, but all three of them are at these people’s mercy, whether they’re together, or not. She continues across the floor, and to the Nexus building. They step inside. It looks the same as they always do, but this one has been retrofitted with lights powered from a normal external source. He’s right, nothing turns on for them. They do for her, though. All of the retrofitted lights switch off on their own, only to be replaced by the ones that are built in. They’re not really built-in though, so much as the walls themselves illuminate.

“My Gods,” Zacarias utters in a breathy exclamation. “What did you do?”

“These machines are networked, so they communicate with one another, which means if one recognizes someone, they all do.”

Zacarias can’t stop looking around, even though it’s really just a room with the house lights on. The real interesting stuff is in the control room. “You mean there are others? What do they do?”

“They transport people from one place to the next. You didn’t know that?” A little rude on her part.

He looks at her now, still smiling like a kid in a candy store. “Please. show me.”