Microstory 2502: Father of the Cure

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I’m going to be totally honest here, Landis and I have not always agreed. His mother always believed that he was gonna move on to do great things, but the kid was approaching his thirties, and he had nothing to show for it. Don’t get me wrong, I love him to death, and nothing he could have done would have been able to change my mind. I just remember wishing that he would have some kind of ambition. I wasn’t one of those fathers who had a plan for their kid, and they were going to follow it no matter what. I only had a few requirements. Number one, he had to learn a second language. Most of the world understands English, and I feel like the least we can do is meet them halfway. You can’t learn them all, but you can at least learn one. Well, he didn’t do it. He didn’t even try. He did the bare minimum in school, in his language classes, and everything else. He wasn’t an idiot, but he was a poor student, because he lacked motivation. I only got him into sports to teach him discipline, and perseverance. I didn’t care if he became obsessed with it, or even if he liked it. He could have switched to theatre or A/V Club, if that’s what struck his fancy. I chose baseball, because that’s what I was familiar with, but I made it clear that he had a choice. What he didn’t have a choice in was doing nothing. He couldn’t just coast through school, and work minimum wage for the rest of his life. I know, that might seem unrealistic. Someone is working minimum wage, that’s why it exists. I just wanted him to want more out of his life. Again, he didn’t have to do anything that I specifically chose for him, but he had to have at least some passion about it, even if that passion was for the money itself. He had to contribute positively to society, and if that meant sticking with that minimum wage job, well, I figured I could get over that. At least he was doing something. But he kept losing them, and having to find something new. Secretly, I think that he preferred it this way. He gets tired of things, you see. He doesn’t quit because he’s no good at it, but because he just doesn’t wanna do it anymore. It becomes tedious. I’m actually kind of surprised he came up with his foundation, because it’s the same thing; day-in, day-out. I can’t believe that he can take it, but I’m proud of him, and I’m happy for him. I never expected him to cure the entire world. I would have just been happy with him holding down a job for longer than six months. But he went for it. He really went for it. He exceeded all of my expectations, and I regret every doubt I ever had for him. That’s my kid, and I’m grateful for him.

Microstory 2479: Glaciadome

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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 2477: Wheeldome

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In case you’re confused, this dome is all about wheels. This includes bicycles, roller blades, skateboards, etc. What it doesn’t include are cars and motorcycles. Basically, if it runs on petrol or electricity, it can’t be here. I guess I shouldn’t say that. They do have some electric bikes, but obviously that’s a whole different animal. There are hundreds of wheel-based leisure areas, as well as long trails that stretch between them. They have all sorts of hills if you wanna go fast, and the best part about it is that you don’t even have to hike all the way back up. They have chairlifts that take you back up. It’s like a ski mountain, but for wheel sports. You couldn’t do that on Earth. They just didn’t want to build the infrastructure, and of course in more recent decades, all those old abandoned roads have been demolished to make way for nature. I didn’t come here because I was a skater. I came because I’m not, and I want to learn. I’ve had plenty of time to practice in virtual simulations but never got around to it, despite how accessible the worlds are. I guess I was waiting for this. Having a whole dome dedicated to what might one day become my passion seemed like the perfect place to get into it. It’s real, ya know? Anyway, I tell you that I’m a beginner so you’re not expecting me to give a detailed review of this place. I don’t know how it stacks up against other skate parks. I just know that when you’re working with 5,410 square kilometers, it’s hard to believe it’s lacking in anything. Unless, again, you’re looking to race cars, or something. Go somewhere else for that. Just because it’s got wheels, doesn’t mean it belongs in Wheeldome. Hang ten, bruh. Gotta go.

Microstory 2451: Mud World: World of Mud

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Here we have another overly descriptive name, like Mountain Mountain or Substrate Development Dome. If you’re lookin’ for mud, they have it here. We got obstacle courses, wrestling, bogging. We got all sorts of sports. If it’s typically paid on the ground, you’ll be playing it on—see if you can guess—a muddy ground. Did you guess right? There are some places in Mud World that isn’t mud, and that’s because it’s SWAMPS! There are no boats, so you have to wade, or even swim, across in order to get from one sector of mud to another sector of mud. MUD! There is already a dome that’s dedicated exclusively to swamp and wetlands, but this one has both. That’s okay, there’s room for all of us. If you come here, you’re gonna get muddy. I know, big surprise. Like, there are only a bunch scattered points of respite from all the mud called King Hills where you can play King of the Hill. A few people can probably stand on the top of it, but there’s only supposed to be one. If you manage to secure it, you better not rest on your laurels, because I guarantee that someone else is gonna come challenge you within the next three seconds. It’s not that everyone is trying to get out of the mud, it’s just fun to push people around, and get pushed around...back down into the mud. If you don’t like mud, you’re not gonna have a good time. You walk through the doors, check in, and then walk down some stairs to the area. Once you get down to the bottom (and in the mud that I was talking about earlier), the stairs collapse, and the nearest other stairs could be miles away for the next group of visitors. You could try to get to one of those quickly, but why would you do that? You’re walking through mud! And mud is great! I don’t know how else to explain that this is a Mud World: World of Mud. I’m not just calling it that for fun, by the way; it’s the official name, which I’m guessing you know because you’re here, and if you’re here, then you must be interested in mud. Which is a good thing, because we got plenty of mud here. MUD! Okay, that’s enough—it’s enough mud! ENOUGH MUD! I’m done with the mud! It’s over! If you’re done with mud, walk over to the nearest exit, and step into a shower. Ah, that feels good. Nice to get all this mud off my body. The water is warm, the jets go every which way. You can stay in the shower as long as you want, they got loads of them; as far as the eye can see. I mean, you can’t see the other showers, they have partitions. Well, they do have group showers. If you wanna wash off in full view of others, that’s your business, and theirs. It’s not 2025, where everyone is sexually unhealthy, and self-conscious. When you’re done with the shower, they have hot tubs too. After you’re done tubbin’, please get back in the shower, because hot tubs are gross. I’ll take a pool of mud over a hot tub any day. HOT TUBS! And-or you can dry off, and leave the dome. You can leave the dome for good, or come back another time. Or hell, you can turn around right that instant, and get back into some muddy shenanigans in the mud. One last thought before I go: MUD!

Microstory 2411: Party Central

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Party, party, party! All aboard, party people! This is where the party’s at! It’s Party Central! That is a great name, because it’s true. It’s January 1, 2500, according to the Earthan calendar, and Castlebourne is officially open for business! They’ve been in testing until now, and while a ton of domes are still not open to the public, a lot of the earlier ones are. There’s plenty to see and do here after the hard work of thousands of testers who were here on the frontlines, making sure that the activities and adventures in the domes were enjoyable, worth your time, and safe. Except for the residentials, all of the domes were shut down yesterday, and will remain that way until tomorrow. Everybody’s here, getting their groove on, and having a great time. We’re all in the main hall right now, but there’s a reason they called this dome what they did. There’s a venue for every need, every niche, every theme. It’s basically if you took the concept of every dome on the planet, and squished them down to smaller scale. You like sports? There’s a venue designed specifically for people who like sports. You can play sports there, and eat bar food, and talk about the sports that you like. I’m not into them myself, so I don’t know what it’s like, but I’m sure it’s great. There are multiple levels to this dome, so you can hang out in the sky, if that’s your thing. I don’t know what else to say about it. As of this posting, the festivities are still ongoing. Even when they officially reopen the domes, we’ll still be here dancing and partying. You know what parties are like, well this is the greatest one ever thrown, and it never really has to end. Come on down, and when you’re ready, go find your bliss elsewhere. Or stick around, I’ll be here. It’s my home, I see no reason to leave.

Microstory 2408: Sportsdome

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Sports. Have you heard of them? Well, I like them. I’m pretty old. I was, in fact, one of the oldest people still physically capable of being upgraded enough to stick around back when life extension was in its relative infancy. I remember taking the train all around the country to see baseball games. I managed to see at least one major league game in every stadium. As the centuries went by, I watched as they faded from popularity. Some of them were outright banned—or effectively neutered—due to laws against violence. Remember hockey? That was basically just an excuse to fight on the ice. The whole act of hitting a puck into a net was more secondary to that urge to express one’s aggression and manhood. I never liked it, but they got it here on Castlebourne. They have every single sport somewhere here. Name one, they got it. Even the really obscure or really old ones that I hadn’t even thought of when I was growing up, still believing that I would die one day. Anyway, I think this dome is pretty cool, and I intend to spend a lot more time here. Unfortunately, nearly all of the players are androids, because we’re still in the early days of this planet, and like I said, sports in general have dimmed in popularity. It’s kind of creepy, because there was this glitch when I first showed up. They weren’t expecting me, and they didn’t sense my presence right away. Obviously, these things aren’t just playing games for no one to watch. They only do it when a visitor is around to see it. So there I was, walking onto the football pitch, and the androids were just standing there, staring into space. Of course, they weren’t staring, they were in dormant mode, but since they’re so lifelike, it looked really scary and unsettling. So that was just a little issue that I think will get worked out if people actually start to come here and see what all this stuff is about! Really try to give it a chance. I know it sounds so quaint. I mean, how interesting could it be to watch 22 people kick a ball back and forth? It’s a lot more nuanced. Just because you’re not in a virtual reality where the rules to some random game some random guy randomly came up with take ten years to learn doesn’t mean it’s not fun to watch. If you swing by, I’m sure we can find you something that you’ll like. For now, I’m going to see what jai alai is like. We didn’t have that when I was a young one.

Microstory 2404: Winterbourne Park

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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 2353: Earth, June 8, 2179

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Dear Corinthia,

Hobbies, yes. We haven’t ever talked about hobbies. That could be because I don’t really have any either. I like to read, which is basically the same thing as watching TV. It’s cheap, and doesn’t require any space, or consumable resources. I’ve had the same e-reader for the last couple of decades now, I guess. Wow, I’ve never realized how impressive that is. It’s probably my one possession that’s been with me for so long. I could upgrade to a better model, but why fix what ain’t broken, right? As far as hobbies on Earth in general, we do have a little more leeway here than I’m guessing you do on the base. There’s always some sports game going on, but not competitively, or anything. It’s mostly been kept alive for health reasons. Ya gotta stay fit, and just hanging from a pull-up bar or doing a few push-ups is boring. I used to play a little football as a kid, before the gases, but I never got back into it in the latter years. I don’t miss it, and have no plans on going back. So yeah, there’s all that. I have indeed heard of Nature Wars, but I’ve never seen it. Maybe that’s something we can do “together”. What episode are you on? If you can busy yourself watching other things, perhaps I could get caught up on that, and it will be one thing that sort of brings us closer together. Or, if you think there’s a better show that we might like more, you tell me. I could give you some recommendations on books, because I feel like a lot of them are timeless. I’ve always thought it was weird to watch movies that are clearly contradicted by the true state of affairs, like those set in their future, but the world hasn’t been poisoned. I’m not sure why it doesn’t seem to bother me to read about it. I’m just a weird dude, I guess.

Over here, not collecting stamps,

Condor

Microstory 2352: Vacuus, June 1, 2179

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Dear Condor,

Oh no! I’m sorry that you’re going through all that! There must be some way to make new friends without just having to meet them organically. That doesn’t really work when you’re as old as we are. It’s more of a kid thing, but even then, it really only happens if you belong to the same class, or are in the same football team. We...don’t have sports teams here, of course, but I’ve read about them in books. Since you should have more space under the dome, I’m guessing sports are still a thing for you? Maybe you don’t do them yourself, but do you have any other interests, like knitting or stamp collecting? Sorry, I just searched our database for hobbies, and I’m listing the first ones that catch my eye. I don’t have any myself, unless you count watching TV. There’s so much content from the before-fore times, and it’s the easiest thing to do while I’m at work. There’s no collecting up here, and there aren’t many opportunities to make things either. It takes resources, and I would rather pay my friend to make something for me than do it myself. Not that I would like it at any rate. I’m just saying that our past times are really limited on the base. Anything that requires the use of a computer or something is the easiest because I’m paying monthly for access anyway, and power is sort of worth whatever it takes, because again, there’s not much else. I’m sure you have limitations too. Man, I really wish they hadn’t poisoned the Earth. I mean, obviously I hate that because it’s bad, but also because you otherwise could have regaled me with stories of how amazing and different life is in the clean air. I could have actually known someone who has been skiing or whitewater rafting. Ugh, that’s probably enough fantasizing about the perfect world. I’m just going to go watch another episode of Nature Wars. Have you heard of it? It’s a reality competition that’s all about going out into nature, and leaving pollution behind. Back then, that was possible, and you didn’t even have to do it on top of a freezing cold mountain.

Living vicariously through our ancestors,

Corinthia

Microstory 2297: Found a Happy Medium

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Yesterday, I announced that the Kansas City Metro’s response to Nick and Dutch’s passing would be a sort of forum where people could come up on stage, and say whatever they were feeling. I didn’t get into the details before, but everyone who asked to do this was going to have to submit an application at least the day prior, explaining what they were going to say. Then, while each speaker was up at the mic, the next one would be experiencing a screening process to make sure that they weren’t planning on doing something inappropriate, like a striptease, or a racist rant. Of course, they could always lie and switch it up once they got their turn, but we believed that we could have made it work. Sadly, most people online did not take to this idea. They thought it was stupid, dangerous, or just totally irrelevant. We hear you, and we see you, so we’ve changed our plans. We’re not going to be doing that, but we’re not going to be doing nothing either. We’ve found a happy medium. The two of them touched many people’s lives while they were on Earth, and their positive impact could be felt everywhere. We are in the process of contacting everyone that they knew while they were here. It is only they who will be speaking at the event. I appreciate all of you speaking out for your truth, and clearing a path for a better concept than we originally had. This has not set our schedule back. We will still be holding the event on Saturday, the 21st. We’re not yet sure where it’s going to be, though. A sports stadium would have a lot of room, but both of them hated sports, so we are sure that we want to do that. Y’all are good at giving advice. Where do you think we should hold it?

The Advancement of Mateo Matic: June 23, 2475

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They programmed the Vellani Ambassador to travel at slightly lower than maximum reframe speed. There was no specific reason for this. They just felt like letting the ship arrive at Castlebourne at the same time they did. It took exactly 365 days to cover the distance of about 108 light years. The Ambassador fell back into subfractional speeds only moments after they all returned to the timestream. Elder had been kept in stasis the whole time, and they wouldn’t wake him back up until they scoped out the area. He was not in good shape mentally, and they were neither equipped nor prepared to help him deal with whatever demons he was fighting.

“Wh—what am I looking at here?” Mateo asked.

“Another unusual and unexpected thing,” Angela noted.

A few centuries ago, people were getting bored with regular old golf. Again. Of course, pioneers had already developed other forms of golf that went beyond the traditional, like speed golf, and arguably, frolf. Tricky Golf was a new iteration, but the only difference was the design of the ball. The course was the same, the rules were the same, but the strokes were a lot harder to keep low. Instead of dimples, the ball had bumps. Poor aerodynamics dampened the lift, and shortened the range, and accuracy was much more difficult to pull off. This resulted in a great deal of frustration, and even anger. But players knew exactly what they were getting into. There was a reason why normal golf balls were made with dimples in the first place. It was never random. The bumps were just as intentional, but this time, to make it a greater challenge.

Tricky Golf was more fun to watch for some, especially when players started tossing their clubs around, and cursing the wind gods. It never really took off—pun intended—for obvious reasons, but there’s a market for pretty much everything, so it never died out either. Some serious professional players even used it as a tool during their training. If they could sink a Tricky Golf ball, they could handle a regular one with ease. That was the idea, anyway. And it would seem that someone who had access to this world took inspiration from Tricky Golf. Maybe it was only a coincidence, but as an ironic occasional viewer of the alternative sport, Mateo chose to believe in a connection. The entire surface of the planet was covered in geodesic domes. Though, to be fair, they weren’t all the same size.

“Ram, open a channel; all frequencies.”

Ramses tapped a few buttons, then pointed to her.

“Vendelin Blackbourne, are you there?” She waited, but received no response. “Kestral McBride? Ishida Caldwell? Anyone on the Stateless Mothership Jameela Jamil, or one of its capital ships, please respond.” Still nothing. “Is anyone receiving this signal?” Not a peep.

“I’m picking up an ACS band,” Ramses declared. “Would you like me to play it?”

“What’s that?” Olimpia asked.

“Automated Control Signal,” Leona explained. “It’s essentially what independent robots and AIs use to coordinate their efforts. Go ahead, let’s here it.”

 Ramses shifted the signal to the speakers. It just sounded like white noise and beeps to them. R2D2 would probably know what they were saying.

“Can you translate?” Marie asked, smiling a bit, hoping that it didn’t sound like a dumbass question.

“Sort of,” Ramses replied. “Largely...build. They’re saying build to each other, over and over again. There are a bunch of other embedded messages layered on top of each other. It would take our computer some time to convert the specifics, but...”

“Don’t bother,” Leona ordered. “Just send one back. Translate...don’t build. Override anything that interferes with this new directive.”

It took him hours to complete what sounded like a simple task to the less knowledgeable in the group. There were a ton of security protocols preventing exactly what they were trying to do; hacking into the system to change its behavior. He only managed to do it by locating the emergency shutdown procedures, which were there to prevent something catastrophic from happening. According to the data that Leona was pulling at the same time, that was exactly what had happened, though the consequences were probably relatively minimal, at least for now.

There was an old thought experiment called the Paperclip Maximizer Theory. The question was, what if you commanded an automated machine to make paperclips, and programmed no other objectives or subroutines into it? What could stop it from fulfilling its mandate ad infinitum? What would happen once it ran out of the usual materials? Would it eventually decide that humans would make good paperclips? From what Leona could tell, that was basically the trigger. Before he left, Vendelin must have commanded his automators to make more dome habitats. In his unexpected absence, they found no reason to stop. He probably forgot about it, and had never come back since leaving, dying, and ultimately ending up working with Team Keshida.

While they were gathering all of this information from the construction logs, the Ambassador was in orbit. The sensors detected 83,839 domes in total, though one of them wasn’t finished when they stopped the robots, so Mateo decided to call it an even 83,838.3. Actually, several of them weren’t completely finished, but the last one wasn’t even airtight yet. Once they were confident that there was no danger on the planet, the whole group teleported down to just outside the main dome. This was the one that was already present when they first came to this world over a century ago. Other automators had built up this dome beyond the castle that was there before. There were now four stone walls to protect it against the approximate zero threats here. There were towers, a keep, and a trench for a moat, though it was not filled with water. Vendelin was clearly into medieval times, because this was what he chose for his own dwelling, but other domes had their own themes.

The dome on one side of the first one was modeled on feudal Japan, while the one on the other side appeared to have been inspired by The Wizard of Oz, or maybe Wicked, complete with a green palace, and a yellow brick road. Another one nearby appeared to be a giant golf course. They teleported into Castledome to see if they could find out more information from the local computers. While the smarties were deep in the complicated data, the other four each grabbed a tablet out of the dispenser, and started looking through what was evidently a visitor’s brochure, which stored a directory of all the domes. Roughly 3,000 of them were indeed designed as their own special getaways, leaving the other 80,000 so far undesignated. Some of them were based on historical periods, while others were inspired by fictional media. A few of the concepts were too large in scope, so they combined multiple domes. There was a Westworld analog, which Mateo went straight to in the directory just out of curiosity. It boasted a full complement of robots, just as the source material did, though it was unclear whether they had actually been built, or if the full amusement park was planned for the future.

It was Marie who realized that a lot of the domes weren’t in the directory, because they were planned for traditional residential units. These were typically less exciting, though they were still meant to house like-minded individuals. Many hundreds of billions of people could pretty much move here starting today. Even though this rock was uninhabitable on its own, Vendelin had big plans for it. Maybe he really had been trying to destroy other planets, to get rid of the competition.

“Found it!” Leona suddenly shouted.

“You found the master code?” Ramses questioned.

“What? No, that’s...encrypted,” Leona replied. “What I found was Vendelin’s personal quantum identifier. This can reach him wherever he is, as long as she’s sufficiently near a quantum computer, even if it’s not his.”

“How does a PQI know where he is if it isn’t his device?” Angela questioned.

“If he’s logged into one of his accounts on any device, or if he has an implant, it will send a near-field signal to any and all quantum computers to identify him.” Ramses sighed, and redirected his attention to Leona. “I thought you were looking for the master code. I want control over all these things.”

“Vendelin can give us that,” Leona explained. “He already has it; we wouldn’t have to hack anything.”

“Wait.” Ramses looked away from everyone. “So do I.” He unceremoniously disappeared.

No one bothered to ask him where he had gone. They just went back to their devices. Mateo was particularly drawn to a dome that purported to simulate a zombie-infested city. He always wanted to test his mettle in such an environment. But what kind of safeguards were in place for something like that? None?

Ramses returned with some kind of portable storage device. Mateo recognized it, but couldn’t quite recall what it was used for. He knew that it wasn’t just for transferring any ol’ files, though.

“No,” Leona decided. “Is that him? No,” she repeated.

“In all likelihood, the Jameela Jamil is still in the Dardius galaxy,” Ramses began to reason. “He’s not gonna get your message. He hasn’t even responded to the one we tried to send him before. This is our only hope...unless we just wanna bug out, and forget the whole thing.”

“No!” Olimpia cried. She wanted to try the citywide escape room dome, if it was even available already.

“What is that?” Angela asked, nodding towards the device.

“Who is that?” Marie corrected. “I’m guessing it’s Vendelin. Why do you have it?”

“We rescued him from the afterlife simulation,” Leona answered instead of Ramses. “We then downloaded his consciousness into a new substrate. We shouldn’t still have this q-state, though. It’s unethical to keep extra copies of intelligent beings without their permission.”

“I didn’t keep it intentionally,” Ramses defended. “I was busy, I forgot.”

“That’s no reason to use it now,” Leona argued. “It would still be unethical. He has not authorized a duplicated emergence.”

“Isn’t he good now?” Olimpia asked them. “I’m sure he would understand.”

“Part of what caused his improvement was his exposure to Team Keshida,” Mateo said. He faced Ramses again. “The version that you have stored in there hasn’t experienced any of that. I agree with Leona. I say we find another way.”

“You could always ask me for the code.” It was Hrockas, standing in the doorway. While Vendelin Blackbourbne had laid claim to what would come to be known as Castlebourne in what he believed to be a game called Quantum Colony, Hrockas managed to unlock access to Pluoraia, which was one of the rare populated worlds. He was devastated to learn that he was not just playing a game, but messing with real people’s lives. He was part of the team’s effort to locate Vendelin, and bring him to justice. What the team didn’t know at the time was that this justice was in the form of an execution.

“How are you here?” Leona asked him. “I thought they shut everyone out.”

“Teagarden opened the quantum terminals back up in a limited capacity,” Hrockas answered. “They gave me permission to come here. They did that with a few of their top players.” He used airquotes. “As long as we don’t travel to any of the populated worlds, they’ve allowed us to continue our construction efforts.”

“So, it was you?” Ramses pressed. “You built all these domes?”

“No, I couldn’t control the automators in the beginning, so I leaned into it. I only designed most of the themes. I hoped to open it up to visitors by the end of the century.”

“We scanned for both human and mech lifesigns,” Leona divulged with suspicion. “You didn’t show up.”

Hrockas laughed. “This is a castle?” he said in the form of a rhetorical question, like she was an idiot. “They’re for defense? It’s shielded,” he finally clarified after she failed to see where he was going.

“Anyone else here we should know about?” Marie asked.

“No, just me. Like I said, I was planning for a Grand Opening in 2500.”

“Are you telling me that Zombie City is ready to go, or at least nearing completion?” Mateo asked, hope in his eyes.

Hrockas debated the answer in his head. “It would take me a few hours to initialize the sim, but yes. I mean...kind of. I’ve programmed all the enemy NPCs in those worlds, but then I realized that something like that would need other survivors, unless enough real people sign up at the same time. Trust me, I’ve tested it out on a smaller scale, and it’s boring unless you can run into other people trying to win.”

“Why do all this?” Leona asked. “A virtual simulation can accomplish all the same things in a fraction of the time.”

“There’s something very exciting about getting your own physical heart pumping,” Hrockas replied. “They’ve done studies. People tend to prefer real world simulations over virtual constructs if they can help it. VR is best left for worlds that break physical laws. They don’t need to co-opt everything.”

“Well...” Leona began, hesitating. “I need this planet.”

“For what?” Hrockas asked.

“Yeah, for what?” No one else knew what she was thinking.

She wasn’t sure how she would be received. “There are some people living under an oppressive regime about 16,000 light years from here. I would like to set this up as a sanctuary world; the final destination of an underground railroad.”

Hrockas chuckled. “Did you see how many domes there are? I don’t know how many people you’re worried about, but I’m guessing there’s plenty of room. The way I see it, anyone who ends up here is a potential customer, so go ahead, and bring ‘em on down. Whenever you’re ready.”

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Microstory 2097: I Even Did Poorly in English

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

What have I done with my life? Well, a lot of things. I have a ton of interests, but I’ve never really wanted to be an expert in anything, save for writing. But first, here’s a list of things that I’ve done that I didn’t like, or at least don’t anymore. I was a gymnast from childhood, up until my senior year of high school. I didn’t like to compete, and eventually only kept going because that’s what I was used to doing. I regret not being more self-aware, and realizing how it was a really good excuse to work out. Maybe then I would have continued to do something to keep my fitness up after graduating. I played baseball for a few years too, but I absolutely hate sports, and I quit as soon as my parents let me. I took golf lessons later, and ran a mile outside of a school program. Apparently, my parents were trying to find my skills and passion, and I was not smart enough to tell them that these things weren’t it. I would go on to run a 5K as an adult, but that was to lose weight, and I never wanted to do it again. I was on the dive and swim team all through high school, which my parents considered a natural extension of my experience as a gymnast, but I hated that too. After my first practice, I got in the car, and asked to let me quit right away, because the coach was making all divers swim to fill out the team. By the time my high school career was over, I preferred to swim, but I was literally the only diver on the team by then, and I guess I had to finish what I started anyway. I’m not a musician either. I played the piano for several years, and quit when my teacher died. My excuse at the time was that I didn’t want to think about trying to find a new teacher, but I think I can admit now that I always hated it as much as anything, and I was never good at it. I severely regret the amount of money my parents spent on a piano that’s no longer used, however much that was.

I was terrible in school, and that was annoying, because I wasn’t cool either, so everyone assumed that I was a nerd, but I wasn’t anything. I even did poorly in English, and related subjects. The way I see it, I’m more of a storyteller than a wordsmith. Words are just my medium, because I also have an ugly voice, but I think I would prefer to produce movies on the creative side than literally write the screenplays. After I graduated from college, in pursuit of my writing career, I started to do a lot more research, and branch out into subjects that I never thought I would try. I like architecture. Before I ended up here, I would use software to design spaceships, and other structures, from my stories, even though I never planned to release these illustrations publicly. I found it to be a soothing task, even when it was frustrating. I like to watch educational videos online for futuristic and technological subjects, and also some more grounded topics. Power generation, conversion, and storage; engineering; anatomy, physiology, medicine, psychology, and neurology; especially evolutionary biology; and even economics are some of my other random interests. I’m particularly invested in ethics, because I see bad ethics all the time, and also logic, because neurotypicals are so wrong so much of the time. I like to study these subjects, and pretend that I can retain the information presented to me, but honestly, I don’t remember hardly any of it, so they’re mostly good for killing time. Of course, I’ve done lots of other things, but these are the basics. Join me tomorrow, where I’ll discuss where I’ve lived, and where I’ve been.

Microstory 2059: What If I Invented Football

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

I think I made a mistake, committing myself to writing a new blog post every week day. If this were any other world, it would have been fine. I could have had enough adventures to last a lifetime. But not here. There’s nothing to watch, nothing to read. The garden hasn’t called me back about a job, and I’m resisting the urge to call them about it. I know you’re allowed to do that at some point, but I can’t remember what my father taught me is a good waiting period. Even if I could recall, this is a different Earth. They have different conventions. I would ask my landlord, but she’s been at work for the last few days, and medical professions tend to function differently than other industries anyway, so she might not know the answer. They don’t do many sports here, if you even have a concept for what I’m talking about. You have competitions, usually in the racing variety, but nothing more than that. I absolutely hate sports, but I would make an exception just to break up the tedium. Besides, it speaks to how boring this place is. I’m going to have to occupy myself with things that you can do anywhere with an atmosphere, and enough space to move around. The geography must be the same, so hiking is number one priority right now. Even if no one else on the planet does it too, they can’t stop me from it, and it will be just as fulfilling as it would be anywhere. I used to do a lot of walking for exercise. Once I’ve stimulated my mind enough, maybe I can branch out into other things. What if I invented football? How would these people react to it? That’s not the issue, I don’t know how to make things like that. What shape is on the balls? Hexagons? Pentagons? Whatever, I’m goin’ out. Don’t wait up.

Microstory 2004: Colorado

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For most of their lives, my grandparents weren’t able to go on vacations. My grandpa was so poor, if he ever had a day when he wasn’t working, he was trying to do other things for work. He would paint a neighbor’s fence, or help out at the local gas station. Anything he could find to save money, he was doing it. This continued for many years, even after grandpa got a better job in Wyoming. They occasionally went to places nearby, but nothing that anyone would call a family vacation. In 1981, which was five years after the new job, grandpa was experiencing something that my dad calls burnout. That means his job was really hard, and he wasn’t taking care of his mental health. He had recently gotten an even better promotion, and he was working all the time. His wife made him take some time off so they could go on a real vacation. They chose Denver, Colorado. They chose it because it was in a different state, but also not too far away, so they were able to drive to it in a day. My papa was about to become an eight-year-old, and it was the summertime. He had a lot of memories of this period in his life, but he couldn’t remember much about this trip. He knew that he was at some kind of sports game, and also that they went hiking. He thinks they probably spent one of the days shopping too. What my grandma said is that my papa’s father loved this trip, and it changed how he saw the world. They would start going on more trips from now on, which is what helped my papa to end up going to all fifty states in the United States.

The Advancement of Mateo Matic: January 30, 2399

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Aldona has apparently never heard of the principle of SCR&M, because she didn’t design this rocket to be modular. It’s one giant tube, with living spaces at the top, cargo in the middle, and propulsion at the bottom. It’s a good thing that the first two aren’t switched, because while it’s not modular, it is compartmentalized. With a little bit of effort, they were able to pull it apart to leave one section on the moon, while the rest flew away, using the auxiliary control room as now the only control room.

Ramses and Mateo are heading back towards Earth to deploy their supersecret array of leechcraft. They’ll enter a high orbit, and launch the little leeches as they pass by other objects. Once those are dispersed, they’ll drop down to a lower orbit for another round. They’ll keep doing that until every sufficiently sized object up there has a little piece of hardware on it that Team Matic controls. Is this ethical? One hundred percent no. Is it morally right? Absolutely yes. Aldona and the world leaders are primarily concerned with external enemies, like the other parallel realities, but they know that there are plenty of domestic hostile forces to worry about. That’s what these technologies do. Like Ramses said before, this is more than just a temporal error detector. The software will map the behavioral patterns of everyone in the world, synthesize the data, and model the threats.

No specific individual is going to be targeted through this system. The artificial intelligence that Ramses curated himself will only ever output locational concerns, not people or groups. The AI is not based on the Constance program. The Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez already had its own intelligence, which became dormant when Constance was uploaded for consistency, but Ramses still has a copy of it, so there is no concern of an uprising, like they have on their hands with Constance!Five. That’s something that Aldona doesn’t even know about, which puts civilization at more risk than just aliens from other dimensions. It’s why they’re doing this. Ramses’ little assistant, Mateo is certain that people will thank them for this one day.

While all of this is going on, Leona will be on the moon with the boys. She’s not being sidelined, though. There’s plenty of work to be done here. The far side of the moon is a perfect place to install a vanguard extrasolar incursion detection system. There are others, like the Lagrange points, but it has to start somewhere. The orbital defense grid will protect Earth, but it works best with forewarning. The small container of nanites that they came here with has grown extraordinarily in just a few days. Until now, all they have been doing is replicating themselves using lunar material. Now it’s time to build some stuff. Half will be sent with Ramses to turn into leechcraft during the deliberately slow journey. The rest are for Leona’s special projects.

She’s going to expand what little infrastructure is here now into a full-fledged lunar base. Hundreds of people will be able to move in by the end of next month, and thousands by the start of this future war. This time next year, it could potentially be considered the center of a colony of millions. That’s a long way off, if ever. For now she just needs to focus on making sure she and the kids don’t die in the vacuum of space. That doesn’t mean they can’t have a little fun at the same time, though.

Little Moray’s face is pressed against the glass, watching the nanites work their magic. The shaft is done, and the head is nearly there. “What is it?”

“You’ve never seen one of these before?” Leona twirls the finished one.

“No.”

“You don’t have golf on your world?”

“Never heard of it.”

“Oh, I think you’ll like it. Go get your brother, and meet me in the airlock. I’ll show you how to use them.”

Moray runs off to grab Carlin. When they get to the airlock, Leona helps them into their custom-made vacuum suits, then gets into her own. Then they go out for a walk. “Four hundred and twenty-eight years ago tomorrow—in the main sequence—a man by the name of Alan Shepard landed on the moon. He was there to collect moon rocks, and do a bunch of science stuff, but he secretly smuggled one of these bad boys with him.” She holds up Carlin’s club. “He also had a couple of these.” She pulls several balls out of her bag, and drops them onto the lunar regolith.

“I assume you’re supposed to hit the balls with the sticks?” Carlin figures.

“Clubs, and yes,” Leona confirms.

“Farthest one wins?” Moray asks.

“Well, in regular golf, you would want to aim for a tiny little hole that’s hundreds of meters away. It’s never just a straight shot, and they put all kinds of hazards between you and the hole, like water and sand traps. I don’t have time to build all that, so yeah, farthest hit wins.”

“How far did Alan Shepard hit it?” Carlin asks.

“About thirty-seven meters, but his suit was extremely cumbersome, and he could only hit it with one hand.”

“How are you supposed to hit it?” Carlin presses.

“I’ve never played. So let’s watch a video.” She taps on her wrist device, and releases a hologram for them all to watch. It’s a tutorial from some famous golf player that was being stored in the AOC’s databank of main sequence knowledge.”

They had to modify their grip, because even though these suits are a lot more streamlined than the early Apollo missions ever could have dreamed of, they still weren’t designed for extreme dexterity. Even so, they were able to make it work. To no one’s surprise, Carlin was the best at it. He barely tried, and he hit it as far as an experienced player would, though maybe without too much accuracy. Given more time and practice, he could play it for real. They evidently have to get through this war first. Once all of the balls are gone, they head back for the base. Perhaps she’ll build a rover on her downtime that can go retrieve the balls later for another competition.

That night, the three of them are trying to eat their freeze-dried dinner when they hear a banging coming from down the hallway. “Do you remember when I showed you reclamation?” Leona asks.

“Yes,” the boys reply in sync.

“Go there, and find somewhere to hide,” she instructions. After they run off, Leona heads in the direction of the banging, holding the longer club. They come in a pattern, suggesting an intelligence behind them. The exterior security cameras aren’t showing anything, but there’s a blindspot right against the hatch to the airlock. She steps inside, and peeks out the viewport to find a man. He’s not wearing a suit, and is casually tossing one of the golf balls into the...moon air. “Can I help you?” Leona asks.

He nods, and slaps his free hand against the viewport. Written on his palm in black marker reads HERE FOR CEDAR.

The Advancement of Mateo Matic: June 29, 2398

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Heath is pacing around the living room, talking to his wife on the phone. The other four are watching him, worried. It’s hard to tell how the conversation is going, but it’s clear by now that she and Kivi are at least not dead or hurt. “Yeah,” he says. “Yeah,” he repeats. “Okay.” He nods, unhappy, but trying to be patient with her. “No, they’ll understand.” He continues immediately, “even Mateo.” He pauses. “All right, we’ll see you when you get back. Be safe.” He pauses one last time. “Love you.” He hangs up, but doesn’t say anything right away.

“Are they okay?” Leona asks him.

“They’re fine.”

“Are they on their way back?” Mateo asks.

“They’re not. They’re in Florida.”

“What? How did they get there?”

“Apparently, Marie wanted to see the plot of land where she grew up,” Heath begins. “In this reality, in these days, it’s an airport. It doesn’t go to very many places, but one of the destinations just so happens to be Orlando, Florida.”

“Okay...does she have a thing for Orlando, errr...?”

“It’s near something called the Fountain of Youth?” He answers in the form of a question.

Oh, that makes sense, sort of. “Well, it’s not,” Leona contends. “They founded the city of Orlando relatively close to the location of a spring that no longer exists.” She goes on, “my namesake, Juan Ponce de León once looked for it in 1513, and found it to already be dried up. He did find the Compass of Disturbance, though.”

“That sounds bad. Marie never mentioned it, what is it?”

“It’s not as bad as it sounds,” she assures him. “It just detects temporal anomalies; rifts in the spacetime continuum, invisible portals, the spot where a teleporter disappeared from, etcetera. The spring is hard to find, and even more so now. Juan once described the terrain for me, but his info is almost 900 years out of date. Even then, to get Youth water, you probably have to be there centuries prior.”

“So, what is the point of them going there?” Heath asks.

“They’re probably just doing their best to check it off the list,” Mateo figures.

“Well, they don’t have to do it alone,” Heath decides as he’s looking at the map on his phone. “We can be there in three hours.”

“I don’t think that’s what she wants,” Angela says in a warning tone.

“It could be dangerous,” he argues.

“She can’t get hurt,” Ramses reminds him.

“Kivi can! I know you four don’t remember her, but I’ve known her as long as I’ve known you.”

“We’ve known her longer than that,” Leona volleys. “Both of them are capable and cautious women who have been through more than your wife has had time to tell you. She’s been around the block. The farm where she grew up is an airport. I’m sure the location of the former Youth Spring is a baseball diamond, or something.”

“What the hell is a baseball?”

“Out of all the dumb sports,” Angela replies, “it’s the least dumb.”

Heath has grown weary of being away from his wife so much. He’s noticed that she’s the one who keeps doing the leaving, even though at one point, he was meant to go off on these adventures with Mateo. Once they get past this, things are going to change. Ramses, Leona, and Angela have their new business to think about, which will hopefully resupply the funds that dwindled quite a bit when the majority of the team showed up. The only dangerous outsiders who might care about that both Marie and Angela exist already know about them, and the back-up twin thing they have going on. There is no reason why Marie and Heath can’t now begin the real mission of studying time travel in the Third Rail. Mateo should come too, and Kivi, if she isn’t interested in anything else.

“Are you doing okay?” Angela asks after he takes too long to react.

“I’m fine. I’m just going to go take a bath, and clear my head.”

“Okay.”

If Marie were here, she would be able to stop him from taking the bath, because that’s usually when he takes the time to locate and purchase something that costs them far too much.

Microstory 1852: No Friends

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My dog and I were born on the same day. He was one of the first faces I saw when my parents brought me home from the hospital. Their neighbors didn’t realize that the dog they adopted was pregnant, so they needed people to take in the pups. Frankenstein and I grew up together. There are tons of photographs of the two of us snuggling together in a shared crib. Back then, there wasn’t anything you could do with the photos you took except put them in a physical album in case company came by, and asked—or agreed—to look at them. I was really attached to Frankenstein. I always considered him to be my brother, and I didn’t really have friends beyond him. It probably didn’t occur to me that we weren’t actually related until I was much older. I think I recall asking why we didn’t look alike. My older human brother just laughed, because he thought I was a dummy. He confirmed that I didn’t make up this story once we were well into adulthood, and expressed regret at laughing at me, and just in general mocking my relationship with Frankenstein. As you can imagine, I didn’t take it very well when he died. It’s the cruelest thing God did, making humans live so long, and our pets live so short. That didn’t make any sense to me, and I struggled with my faith a lot after it happened. My parents were concerned, but they didn’t want to be overbearing, so they let me tread my own spiritual path, knowing that it could lead me into atheism. That’s precisely what it did. I decided that it was the only explanation for my pain, and for the pain of so many others. Either God exists, and he’s evil, or he doesn’t. I would much rather it be the latter. The former is such a horrifying prospect. I can’t believe people live their lives under such obvious oppression. My family didn’t disown me, but we did drift apart.

I had to forge a new family with the people that I met along the way. I sort of collected them from the various groups that I was a part of. One guy was on the football team with me. We were drawn to each other, because we both enjoyed the sport, but we weren’t passionate about it. We taught each other that that was okay. I met a girl in one of my classes that I got along with real well. She didn’t know the footballer, in case you’re wondering. Lots of people play sports for their schools, but for us, it was a separate thing. I had a part time job at the grocery store, where I hung out with another guy. I met a cool girl in college. It was about two hours from home, so it was hard to stay in contact with the others. Once I graduated, and started working full time, I strengthened my connection to my old friends, and built some new ones, but eventually realized that after all this time, they still didn’t know each other. That had to be remedied. I decided to organize my own birthday party, even though I hadn’t really celebrated it before. It was just an excuse for them to finally meet. These were the most important people in my life; it was ridiculous that they weren’t friends with each other. It didn’t go well. Politics, religion, general personalities; everything clashed. They tried, they really tried. None of them went into that dinner with the intention of hating the others, but things just kept getting worse. If two of them agreed on something, another disagreed so adamantly that it overshadowed that whole part of the conversation. For the next few months, we continued to try finding some common ground, but never could. I then tried going back to just keeping them separate, but that no longer worked. I drifted from them too, and I haven’t had a friend in decades. Isn’t that just the saddest story you’ve ever heard?