Showing posts with label swimming. Show all posts
Showing posts with label swimming. Show all posts

Thursday, September 17, 2026

Microstory 2759: Sunk Cost

Generated by Google Flow text-to-video AI software, powered by Omni Flash 1.1
Elise is the last person to emerge from the depths. She practically begged one of the other hunters to come with them, but they refused. They said they didn’t want this anymore, and would be finding a way back or out. The implication was that they would kill themselves, but Elise didn’t ask any more questions. It is not her job to protect strangers. Suicide isn’t impossible these days, but it’s much harder for most than it used to be. A version of them will survive out there somewhere unless they don’t want it to.
So she went into the fountain behind the others. She didn’t have to put any effort into swimming. It was like the water sucked her down before pushing her back out at full speed. It was really hot for a minute there too. Now she’s in the torrent of the open water with no land in sight. She appears to be completely alone.
She feels a pair of hands on her chest. “Elise! We thought you were lost!”
Elise can’t even tell who it is amidst the chaos of the storm raging above them. She turns around to find Colley. “Where are we? Where are the others?” she cries.
“Get on my back!” he shouts back. “We found something!”
After she climbs on and straddles his hips, he breaststrokes away. They end up traveling pretty far. It’s a wonder, really, how he managed to find her at all.
At last, she sees the others. They’re huddled together, and staying together, which must mean they’re holding onto something. It’s too dark to see it. Only when Colley pulls her right up and helps her get a handhold does she realize where she is. Or she can guess, anyway. It appears to be the crow’s nest of some kind of wooden ship. Minotaur and the Bidan girl are standing in it, on either side of the pole thing. Everyone else is holding onto the railing thing so they at least don’t have to waste energy treading.
The irony is that Elise was just about to start learning how to sail one week after Rage found her in Skilldome. She saw underwater basketweaving as a cute transition to it. After she mastered a regular basket, she was intending to weave a model of a ship, and then she would take it with her to the docks. It was going to be this whole thing. To be fair, she was going to learn 21st century sailing at first, and only maybe make her way down the centuries after that, but it doesn’t matter, because now she knows nothing. It’s a pole thing and a railing thing until someone tells her exactly what they’re called.
They spend hours there, because there’s nothing else they can do. Before Elise arrived, Zelda reportedly climbed up to the very tippy-top to get a look around, but the waves were too big and the moon too obscured by clouds. There are some waterfronts in Treasure Hunting Dome. There are plenty of challenges to be completed involving the water. But it doesn’t have anything like this. Elise knows that because Rage made them memorize as much of the layout of the dome as is publicly available. You need space to make the kind of storm and angry sea that they’re dealing with right now, and where they were before simply doesn’t have it. But two domes have exactly that. One is called Polar Tropica. It’s a gargantuan resort. The other...is Aquilonian Deep.
Miracle must not have been lying. Time travel is real, and they just came out of a portal. They didn’t simply jump into the fountain and sink to another level of Treasure Hunting Dome, or even the next dome over. They were sent halfway across the planet in the short amount of time they could hold their breaths. Now anything’s possible.
The seven of them take turns standing up while everyone else holds onto the sides. They are able to yell a few things at each other, but it’s too loud to have full on conversations. Elise explains that she stayed behind to try to convince the other hunter to come with them. Zelda confirms the time travel when she explains that she was here alone for a few minutes before the next person bobbed up. Each time someone new appeared, they reported that only seconds separated them at the fountain, even though minutes passed for those already here. They ultimately waited almost an hour before Elise came. When she asked them how they knew she was there in the first place, they said lightning would strike the spot where they were just about to come up. But Elise knows the truth. The lightning wasn’t marking the spot. They were riding the lightning.
The storm passes, and the sun rises in the sky, no doubt programmed or controlled by Hrockas or his Custodians. They’re dead tired, but still alive, and everyone here still wants to fight. This whole time, ever since the locker room, no one has brought up the fact that only one person can win. What’s the point? Except for one person now, they’re all friends. And the Bidan, Laise LeMaire, is quickly becoming part of the team too. Whatever the prize is, they can surely share it one way or another. It doesn’t help to become cutthroat now, especially not since it will take all of them to survive this.
“I’ve been thinking about this a lot,” Laise says. “I’ve been trying to remember the stories I was told from my home planet. I lived in a particularly advanced region, but many others were intentionally rustic. Some had boats like whatever we’re on top of right now. They never sank, because while they looked antiquated, the underlying structure was more modern. But I used to date one guy who grew up on one of these ships, and he talked about the real past—I’m giving you way too much background. I’m saying they had ways to lift sunken boats. It wasn’t easy, but it didn’t require gizmos or gadgets either. But we do need a lot of barrels, and even more patience.”
Without even asking for Laise to elaborate, Zelda volunteers to dive down to see how many barrels the boat has, if any. They don’t know this woman yet, but they trust that she wants to survive as much as they do, even if she has stopped caring about winning. Elise volunteers to go down too, because while she never had the chance to learn to sail, she absolutely knows how to freedive. It was one of the first things she practiced when she came to this planet. They search all over, but only find twenty.
“That’s not enough,” Laise says, shaking her head. “You said there were cannons down there too? That’s not enough. We would need at least twice that.”
“What if we got rid of the cannons,” Colley suggests. “While we’re at it, get rid of the chains and the big metal grate thing. Take out everything unnecessary.”
“I am not good enough at math to know whether that would work,” Laise admits. “The guy said forty. I guess I don’t really know what kind of boat he was talking about.”
“What exactly do we do with these barrels?” Rage asks her.
Laise sighs. “We attach them to the bottom of the boat, and then we pump the water out. Once they’re all filled with air, they should lift the boat out of the water.”
They stare at her like they can’t believe their ears. It sounds insane, and insanely grueling. Elise saw where they are, though. They’re sitting on the edge of a sea shelf, and there is no other land in sight. Their only hope is to get this bucket out of the water so they can stand. They’ll figure out how to move it after that. If this doesn’t work, they could die from exposure. But not starvation or scurvy. The barrels are evidently filled with fruit. There’s no drinking water, though, so they take a vote. Either they go for it, or let themselves die just to escape and give up. It’s unanimous.

Wednesday, September 2, 2026

Microstory 2748: One One Cocoa Full Basket

Generated by Google Flow text-to-video AI software, powered by Veo 3.1
Elise Perkins has dropped her rapping iron again. All of her tools can float except for that one. It keeps sinking to the bottom of the pool, and every time she dives down to retrieve it, she ends up pushing all of her other tools away, so she has to swim around to get those back too. She has taken so many courses here, but has never found a class called Keeping Track of Your Stuff 101. She did find underwater basket weaving, though. She knows it started as a joke, but she’s having fun with it, despite the drops.
Her basket is fairly complete at this point, so she uses it as a little liferaft for her other tools while she very carefully sinks below the surface herself, and slowly swims down to find the rapping iron. It’s an awkward shape, so it doesn’t always land right below. The chlorine stings her eyes as she’s hunting for it. She could have designed a body for herself that doesn’t feel that kind of inconsequential pain, but she wants to immerse herself in the culture. She wants to feel what her ancestors felt when they were doing these kinds of things. She wants to be authentic.
She spots it. Huh. It’s right next to another one. Wait, no. That one isn’t a rapping iron. What the hell is that thing? No one else is in the pool right now. Did they really drop something earlier, and it was never picked up? It’s not like the droids to make such a mistake. She swims towards it, but before she can catch it, the second metal object latches itself onto her iron and they both begin floating upwards. She keeps grasping at them, but they’re moving too fast. She follows them up to the surface, only noticing then that someone is standing on the pool coping. Are they trying to steal her tool? Who the hell would do that? It’s not worth anything. They can get their own!
Elise makes one final push. She takes hold of her rapping iron, as well as the magnet, and the string it’s attached to. She yanks it away, which causes the figure to totally faceplant into the water. Serves them right. But now there’s a problem. What if this stranger is a serial killer? Now she’s in a very vulnerable position with a person who she has just royally pissed off. She breaks the surface quickly, and swims the rest of the way to the wall so she can pull herself up. She hears a bunch of splashing behind her.
The stranger is flailing about, trying to keep their head above water. They’re panicking, and can clearly not swim. Well, maybe it’s not so clear. They could be faking.
This is ridiculous. Elise is immortal, and there’s security all over the place. She doesn’t have to be afraid. So she jumps back in, thankful that she learned to become a certified lifeguard not two months ago, and rescues the non-swimmer.
The stranger is still panicking as she scrambles out of the water, and lies on her back on the deck to catch her breath.
Elise stands there patiently, wringing water out of her hair, and adjusting her bikini, which magnet girl nearly tore off of her during the struggle.
The woman rolls over to her side, and stands back up. She stares awkwardly at Elise. “This is not how I wanted this to go. How embarrassing that I should not know how to swim. I just...didn’t think you would pull me in.”
“I didn’t think you would try to steal from me,” Elise replies.
“That was only my way of introducing myself. I thought it would be funny.”
“Well, it wasn’t. It was just confusing, and honestly, a little scary for me. I change substrates when I feel like it, but I never let my body die. I have an aversion to pain.”
“I get it,” the woman says. She takes a deep breath, and holds out her hand. “Hi. I’m Ciaragie Benetton, but everyone calls me Rage. Don’t worry, it’s ironic. It might not seem like it, but I’m typically very cool under pressure.”
“My name is not important,” Elise replies. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I would like to get back to my basket.” She starts to scan the surface because now her tools will have scattered all over the place. She sees her basket first. It is completely mangled and broken. She looks back over at Rage. “You ruined it. I’ll have to start over.”
“I’m sorry, Elise. I should have said just hello, like a normal person.”
“How do you know my name?” Elise questions.
“I came here to find you,” Rage explains as she’s stripping naked. “I’m putting together a team to compete under Treasure Hunting Dome. I believe that there is a secret, hidden level to be played. I believe there is a prize which no one has ever heard of, let alone attempted to locate. I’ve been going around, finding the best of the best from people who have experience in other domes. I myself have spent decades in Escape Dome. But I also have a navigator, and adrenaline junkie, even an anthro—”
“I’m sorry, what the heck does this have to do with me?” Elise asks. “I’m not the best of the best at anything. I spend my time learning archaic skills, like underwater basket weaving, and bricklaying. You must have me confused with someone else.”
Rage shakes her head. “No, you’re who I’m looking for. I don’t know what you know about Treasure Hunting Dome, but the challenges often involve exactly things like those skills. Some are inherent, like digging through a haystack to find a data-needle which contains your next clue. But for some of them, completing the challenge is just what tells the Exemplar that you deserve the clue, so they hand it to you.”
Elise sighs. “It’s not really my thing. As I was saying, I enjoy the quiet. I don’t wanna go on an adventure. When I’m not here, I’m reading classics in Branch of Babel, or relaxing on a boat in Raindome. I don’t do fun. I don’t do challenges.”
“You don’t wanna do anything with what you’ve learned,” Rage presses. “So you can weave a basket underwater. So what? It’s not like the world needs more baskets. You don’t even need a basket. You could print one in minutes.”
Elise points to the water. “That was supposed to be mine. It was going to be something that I made myself. No, I don’t need a basket, but I want a basket that’s one hundred percent unique. It wasn’t programmed, it wasn’t generated. It would be mine. My house is filled with things that I have created with my own two hands. I made the house itself...on my own...from scratch. That’s what makes me happy. I do it for me, and no one else. I don’t expect someone like you to understand that.”
“I understand,” Rage argues. “Oh, I understand better than you think. The prize for winning an escape room is getting out of the escape room, which you already were before you voluntarily went in. We collect the same things. We collect experiences.” She holds her hand out again, but this time not to shake. “Come with me. Let’s experience something neither of us has before, which I believe no one in the universe has. You might not be able to put a physical object in your home, but you’ll never forget it.”
Elise stares at Rage’s hand with a frown. That’s a pretty convincing argument, she has to admit it, if only to herself. “I’m not promising anything, but I am willing to listen. Tell me more about this Treasure Hunting Dome.” She doesn’t take her hand.
Rage smiles as she drops her arm. “Let’s meet the team first.”

Tuesday, September 16, 2025

Microstory 2497: Swampdome

Generated by Google Gemini Pro text-to-video AI software, powered by Veo 3
I’m not saying there’s something lurking under there, but...there’s something lurking under there. In case you didn’t tease it out from the name of this dome, this is swamp country. If you go to any swamplands on Earth, this is what they look like. It has all the same flora from there, and some—if not all—of the fauna. You can take a boat on the water. It can be a rowboat or an airboat. I don’t really think you have any other options. You could also just wade or swim in the water if you’re feeling brave. The water is so murky, there’s no way to know if something is hiding underneath the surface. I’m almost certain there is. As I was sitting on my boat, I could both here and feel something bump up against the wood. I couldn’t see anything, but I seriously doubt a turtle is strong enough to hit it with the amount of force it would have needed to. Yeah, it could have been an alligator. And that would be scary. But it could also be something else, which I think is scary, because there’s so much uncertainty. Humanity is long past the time since we perfected genetic engineering. There’s no reason it can’t be a creature that never existed in nature. There’s that one character from the comics. I’m thinking it’s that guy, or someone very much like him. I mean, his story would be different, but they could absolutely make a person who approximates whatever properties that character had. I wasn’t scared, I wanna be clear on that, but it was a little unsettling; I have to admit. There’s really nothing more to say about it. They didn’t do anything special. There are docks, boathouses, houseboats, and cabins randomly strewn about, so if you find one of those, you can get out and explore. Come here if you wanna be in a swamp, but not if you want to learn anything, or have a story to tell. Unless that monster that I think lives down there shows its face, it’s just gross water to me.

Monday, July 14, 2025

Microstory 2451: Mud World: World of Mud

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

Saturday, June 14, 2025

The Seventh Stage: Rock and a Hard Place (Part III)

Generated by Google Gemini Pro text-to-video AI software, powered by Veo 3
Ezqava ‘Effigy’ Eodurus has had a storied past. Much of it, she prefers to forget. She was young and stupid at the time, and very vulnerable. She placed her trust in someone who turned out to be so much better than her, she never wants to feel that judged again. She truly doesn’t understand her own mind. She’s mischievous and unpredictable, and even sometimes violent. That’s why they locked her up on Earth, and now on this random remote penal colony. Colony isn’t the right word for it, though, since she lives here alone. It’s not too bad. She has a nice home with a pool. The weather is always tame, but she can see storms range in the distance, which is interesting. They’ve provided her with countless hours of entertainment, but no means of communication. She can see what’s going on all over the universe, but can have no effect on it. Unless someone comes to talk to her. Which they do, all the time, though less so in recent days. When she was trapped in her cage on Earth, no one visited her. Most people didn’t even know that she existed. Here, she’s so popular. Here, they value her knowledge. Sadly, they don’t value her as a person. It’s her fault, and she knows it, but it’s still been difficult.
It won’t always be like this. Effigy doesn’t have the power to see the future, but with all the data that she’s collected, she’s pretty confident in her predictions. Hers is not the only transcendent power in these lands. There are two others, and based on the trajectory of their dealings, it won’t be long before they meet. The only question then is whether she can convince them to join forces with her. In the past, she would attempt to gain allies through trickery and subterfuge. Her ability to shapeshift into any human form has always been too tempting to ignore, and too easy to abuse. Her usual methods won’t fly with Clavia and Echo. Not only will they see right through it, but they actually have the power to turn on her. The reason she was in a cage for centuries was because none of her combatants knew how to kill her. The Cloudbearer twins do not suffer the same shortcomings. They have more power than her, and it’s hard to tell how they’ll use it. They’re good...for now—if there even is such a thing as a good person. That doesn’t mean they won’t fight her. If she wants them to trust her, she has to be honest, good, and honestly good. That’s why she has spent the last several years helping leaders of this pocket universe. She’s been asking for favors in return, but only because that’s what they expect. If she did it for nothing, they would be suspicious of her.
Effigy has been trying to get better, but without an unbiased third party to assess her progress, she can’t know if it’s worked. Her self-improvement was driven by her desire to regain the power and freedom that she once had. Is this a paradox? Is it impossible to be worthy of the power that one seeks if they seek it? Is ambition inherently evil? More importantly, how will the god twins see it? Earlier, she planted the seed of her answer when an old friend came for a visit. Either she’s about to get a third visitor in one day, or her friend is back.
She watches as the personal pod streaks across the sky, and lands somewhere on the other side of the wall that keeps Effigy from seeing the ocean. She’s tried asking for a tower to have a better view of this world, but she’s never given anyone enough intel to warrant such a gift. She’s going to play it differently this time, not like she did before with Bariq. She’s going to be cool and composed, but genuine and professional. The door opens. Two women walk through. One is the friend, but the other is a stranger. “You have returned,” Effigy begins, “sooner than I expected.”
“The term sequence that you provided was right,” Tekla replies. “It took me to an evidently unused Nexus, which allowed me to travel to Origin, where I met an apparent god, who connected me with this one here.” She gestured towards the other woman.
“Hi, Francis Deering,” she says, offering her hand.
Effigy reaches out for it, then pulls back in horror. She forgot to shapeshift into the form of a human. She looks like her true self still...a white monster. “I’m terribly sorry. I didn’t mean for you to see me like this. I didn’t realize.” She takes a breath, and transforms herself into a woman she once knew by the name of Slipstream.
“It’s okay,” Francis assures her. “You don’t scare me.” Her skin begins to vibrate and ripple. Within seconds, she looks like a masculine version of herself, perhaps a twin brother, or something. She—or he—seems as surprised as Effigy and Tekla do. “Wow, that was much faster than it is where I’m from. Your world is interesting.”
Effigy smiles. “May I ask, what are your pronouns?”
“She/her when I’m in my female form, and he/him when I’m like this.  If you’re talking about me in a more general sense, and you’ve encountered me in both forms about evenly, you can use they/them.”
“Can you turn into anyone, or just this one guy?” Tekla asks him.
“I’m not turning into a different person,” Francis explains. “I’m both people. Nothing about who I am as a person changes when I’m in one form or the other. They call me a dimorph; both male and female. I can only have one reproductive system at a time, but my mind and personality maintain continuity.”
They nod.
“I can shift back, if you’re more comfortable...” Francis offers.
“No, it’s whatever you want,” Effigy assures him. “Is that why you chose him?” she asks Tekla. “Because he’s a shifter.”
“I explained the situation to the god, Senona Riggur, who suggested a therapist would be of some use to you. This is who they chose.”
“So, you’re from another universe?” Effigy asks Francis.
“Am I?” Francis volleys. “No clue. I just go where they tell me.”
“Well, I really appreciate you coming here, and I would appreciate more of your time. You see, I’ve traditionally not been so great of a person. As you saw, I’m not a person at all. I think that I’ve learned the error of my ways, but self-assessment can only get you so far.”
“You say you’re not a person. What do you mean by that?”
“Well, you saw. I’m not human.”
“Just because you’re not human doesn’t mean you’re not a person.”
“Do you know a lot of non-humans where you’re from? I mean, more intelligent beings than just dogs and cats.”
Francis smirks. “I know a few.” She takes a beat. “Let’s get into this. Is there somewhere we can talk?”
“Yeah. Tekla, do you need to get back to Judy before she gets suspicious?” Effigy asks, worried. Maybe she is better, worrying about others.
Tekla laughs. “You think I took the Nexus to a hostile unknown location without getting my boss’ permission first? She went with me. She was granted her own wish alongside mine. Don’t ask what it was, though.”
“I see. Tell her thank you. She’s always been more supportive and understanding with me than other people.”
“I will pass along the message. Until then...” Tekla starts to say, “I’ve never skinny-dipped before, but I hear that’s how it’s done in this pool.”
Now Effigy is the one to laugh. “You can if you want. I also have suits in the cabana. We’ll be in the solarium, if you don’t mind a little sun, Mr. Deering. The windows are rated high for UV shielding.”
“That sounds lovely,” Francis replies.
The two of them head to the other side of the house to discuss Effigy’s issues, and her self-doubts. In the spirit of my agreement with Dr. Hammer to stay out of the therapy sessions that she has with her own patients, I cannot relay what Francis and Effigy discussed in private. While Dr. Hammer did not technically ask me to maintain the privacy of all of my characters, I believe that she would prefer me to respect therapist-patient confidentiality across the board except for conversations which are integral to the plot. Suffice it to say, Francis’ wisdom was very helpful in Effigy’s quest to not only become a better person, but to understand what that truly means, and how to measure her own progress, as well as recognize her successes for what they are.
Effigy looks up to the sky again. “You’re in my head.”
Is she talking to me?
“Yes, Superintendent, I am talking to you. You are writing this story from an omniscient third-person perspective. You know everything that I’m thinking. The fact that you chose not to watch my therapy session is meaningless. You still know exactly what happened. You could always just pull it straight out of my thoughts.”
“Who are you talking to?” Francis asks. They’re currently strolling around—
“No, no, no,” Effigy interrupts me. “You’re not going to ignore my question by droning on and on about the minutiae of our current behavior, just to reach some arbitrary word count goal on this installment. There’s vivid imagery, and then there’s pointless and trivial details. We’re walking back to the other side of the house. There. Done. That’s all you need to say.”
I wasn’t ignoring your question. You didn’t ask one.
Effigy stops to think for a moment. As she does so, a beetle-like insectoid crawls along the leaf of a plant hanging from a pole on the side of the building. A spider-like creature is on the underside of this leaf, and the question is whether one will notice the other, both each other, or neither. No one is looking at these organisms, but it’s still happening. Things like this are happening all the time, all around you. If Effigy weren’t blinded by her frustration with me, she might have the capacity to take a moment to admire the beauty. She’s standing next to it right now, stewing. She’s choosing not to look over at the insectoids, knowing all too well that if I wanted her to look at them, she would goddamn look at them. For as powerful as she thinks she may be, she is nothing compared to the might of the author. I could erase her from the story with a few taps on my keyboard. She would never connect with Clavia and Echo. She would never realize her full potential. She would never really know if she became a better person, or if the leopard simply can’t change its spots. I already spent years not mentioning Effigy and her exploits at all, and I can do it again. I could do it forever if I like. Her past as the final boss in the Springfield Nine franchise may never have happened. I could erase that too if I wanted. And maybe I will.
I just did. Effigy who?

Saturday, June 7, 2025

The Seventh Stage: Piffy on a Rock Cake (Part II)

Generated by Google AI Studio text-to-video AI software, powered by Veo 3, with music by MusicFX text-to-audio AI software
Bariq walks briskly into the room, finally finding his co-parent standing there with one of her assistants, whispering about something or other. After they see him, they both smile, make one last exchange, then part ways. He walks farther in. “Where are they?” he demands to know.
“The kids?” Judy guesses. “I’m sure they’re just out partying with their friends.”
“I just ran into them in the hall,” Bariq counters. “They haven’t seen Clavia or Echo anywhere since they left the ceremony.”
“You saw all of their friends?” Judy questions.
“I saw enough,” he replies. “They don’t have many.”
“They have more than you think. Not all of them are from the Seventh Stage, you know. They have a lot in common with some of the students from the Third Rail.”
“Judy. The kids are missing.” Over the years, she’s become calmer and more trusting of their children. She’s allowed them to be young and dumb, and make mistakes. She teaches them right from wrong, but she has always seen them as preadolescent and adolescent humans. The reality is that they’re both unimaginably powerful superentities, and very dangerous. Bariq loves them, and cares for them, but he has not forgotten how they started out. They’re both far older than they appear, and he sometimes sees that in their eyes. They will seem normal one minute, bright-eyed and curious. Then the next, they’ll slip into this unsettling state of all-knowing indifference. He has been afraid of them growing up and getting their memories back this whole time. It’s put a strain on their relationship, and yes, he’s even worried that this strain will create a self-fulfilling prophecy that leads to the realization of his greatest fears. He can’t help it, though, because they really are dangerous, and it doesn’t seem prudent to ignore that.
“What do you want me to do?” Judy questions. “Sick a tracker on them?”
“I want you to take this seriously.”
“I do. They’re sixteen years old, they’re gonna run off and do stuff without permission.”
“They’re not sixteen, and stuff without our permission could be blowing up planets or smoking nebulas.”
“That is...quite the imagery,” Judy says, “and is completely unfounded. They’re good people. You should believe in them more.”
“So you’re not gonna help look for them.”
Judy sighs. “I have Rebecca for the year,” Judy explains. “I’m going to spend some time with her today. Maybe you should do something for yourself. How about that woman from the academy? She seemed into you.”
Bariq closes his eyes. “She’s a hundred years younger than me.”
Judy shrugs.
“You wouldn’t get it, you grew up with your soulmate.”
“And then I lost her.” When the main sequence version of Earth was copied into the Sixth Key, Judy was duplicated along with it. Her wife, however, Rebecca happened to be in the past at the time, because that was where she was working. When she returned to her present, the other Judy was waiting there to greet her. It took a while for them to even find out about the whole Reconvergence mess. Since then, they’ve established a unique relationship. Rebecca spends some of her time with main sequence Judy, and some of it with Seventh Stage Judy, like an odd joint custody sort of arrangement. It might be unusual, but it’s working for them. And the kids love Rebecca. They treat her like an aunt. Yeah, she’s technically more like a stepmother, but she can’t really discipline them since she’s gone half the time, so they ended up framing it differently.
“Then you got her back,” he reminds her.
Judy concedes the point. After a moment of silence, she thinks of something. “You know who you can go to if you’re looking for someone. And it’s not a tracker.”
Bariq is confused for a moment, but quickly gets over that. “We promised to never go back there.”
“We promise that all the time.”
He sighs. He has a feeling that something is wrong. Echo and Clavia aren’t just hanging out on a habitable moon, watching the gas giant that it’s orbiting dominate the sky. They’re somewhere, doing something. It might be good for all he knows, but it’s not innocuous. It’s not meaningless. He has to find them, and if that means talking to a certain dangerous prisoner, then he will. “Don’t tell Cedar.”
“I don’t talk to that guy anymore,” she says.
“All right. I love you.”
“Love you too.” They are the twins’ parents, but they aren’t married. They have never had any romantic feelings for each other. In fact, their relationship started out pretty rocky. They were chosen to negotiate together during The Rock meetings specifically because they didn’t always see eye to eye. That’s not how it was for every duo at those talks, but it wasn’t uncommon either. Over time, as they’ve tried to raise these kids together, their connection to each other has strengthened, and love is a decent enough word for it. She has Rebecca, and he has his consorts, but they always try to be on the same side, even when it’s hard.
He walks out of the room, and down the hall to their personal Nexus, which will take him indirectly to where he needs to go. While his target is a prison, she’s not in a typical locked facility. It’s too risky to leave her anywhere with people on a regular basis. She’s too charming and beautiful. She has a way of getting into people’s heads, which they take measures to combat with psychic wards. Because of the need for distance, if she needs anything, it’s up to her to provide it for herself, using whatever she can find where she’s being kept. That’s not a lot, but she doesn’t seem to need a lot, so it appears to be okay. And she’s gotten more over the years. Bariq would normally ask one of his kids to transport him there remotely, but since they’re the reason he’s deigning to go this time, that’s not an option. He takes the Nexus to the nearest space station, and then a personal pod the rest of the way. It’s slow, but that’s the point. If there were too many ways to get to the penal planet, there would be too many ways to get off of it, and that’s not an option.
The prisoner has extraordinary extrasensory perception, allowing her to know things without experiencing them, or being around. Even where she is, trapped and alone, she knows what’s going on everywhere else, even back in the original universe. That’s what makes her such a big threat, and why she can’t ever be allowed to leave. Unfortunately, she appears to be immortal, so keeping her in place might be an eternal responsibility. She has taken a particular interest in their family, as would be expected of someone in her position, driven partially by their repeated visits for information, and sadly, even advice. They’ve used this resource far more often than they morally should. It’s just too tempting. The issue is how much she likes it. She loves the attention, and it gives her a sense of power that she doesn’t deserve. Bariq prepares himself at the entrance. The walls are a hundred meters tall, and this is the only way in or out. It’s not guarded by anyone, but a satellite in geosynchronous orbit keeps constant watch over it. He holds his hand up, and motions for the AI to open the door for him, which it does.
He finds the prisoner in the courtyard of her home. Again, it’s not a normal prison. It’s actually a pretty nice place to live at this point. She even has a pool, which she is using right now. Without any clothes on. She knew that he was coming, so it’s not like she’s been caught off guard. “Oh my,” she says in total false modesty. “My king, you’ve arrived. I’m afraid I’m totally unprepared.” She speaks with a hint of an accent. Vaguely transatlantic, Judy once deemed it. The prisoner climbs the steps out, holding her arm and hand over her privates, but not doing a very good job of it. At the moment, she has given herself the appearance of Judy. Sick bastard.
“Take off that face, Effigy,” he demands. When the Reconvergence happened, and the main sequence was copied into the Sixth Key, most time travelers weren’t around. They were warned that it would happen, and given ways of protecting themselves, often by simply skipping over the moment entirely. Effigy was a prisoner in a different place on Earth, and had been for many centuries prior to all this. The theory is that whoever put her in there died, or completely forgot about her, so now there are two of her, just like everyone else there.
“Is this not pleasing to you?” She sounds innocent and naïve, but it’s all an act, just to screw with him.
“Go back to normal.” This is a loaded command, because her real form is an intimidating white monster. She’s literally not human. They call her a Maramon.
“Do you really mean that?” she asks.
“Yes.” Intimidating is a strong word when it comes to Bariq’s constitution. She doesn’t scare him, and her true appearance doesn’t change that.
“Very well.” She transforms. “How can I help you today, Your Majesty?”
He’s not going to once more argue the point about him not being a king. It’s exhausting, and there is no way to win. She could deny the existence of light if it served her agenda. Logic and reality were irrelevant concepts, as was perception. “You know where my kids are.” It’s not a question.
“I do.”
“Are they safe?”
She smiles. “They’re safer than you are.”
“What the hell does that mean?”
“It means that your greatest fears are coming to fruition. They are realizing how powerful they are, and they’re learning to exercise their independence.”
“What. Does. That. Mean?” he reiterates.
She waits a moment to respond. “If I’m going to help you, I need something in return.” She always does. That’s why she has this swimming pool, and a breadmaker. And an actual parachute made out of gold, which they only agreed to give her because it’s too heavy to fly.
“What is it this time?”
She looks around with a feigned frown. “Here I am, piffy on a rock cake. I’m nice and  sweet, and everyone loves me...but I’m so small. The rest of the cake is bland, and boring. It deserves more of me. It deserves more piffy.”
“Honestly, I have no idea what the fuck you’re talking about. What is a piffy?”
“Nobody knows.”
He lets out an exasperated sigh.
She mimics him. “General Bariq Medley, always so frustrated. If humans still had heart attacks, why you would have died centuries ago.”
“Get on with it, what do you actually want?”
“A mirror.”
“No,” he answers. He doesn’t know why exactly, but they have been told that she is not allowed to have mirrors. Sure, there is such a thing as a time mirror, which is a temporal object designed to view—or even access—other points in spacetime. But you can’t just turn any mirror into a time mirror. That’s mostly just what it looks like on the outside. There’s all sorts of technology and temporal magicks hidden in the guts. But in a world of time travelers, they can’t take any chances. She can presumably indeed give a regular mirror temporal properties.
“Oh, it’s just for my vanity. I have no one to talk to when you’re gone.” She exaggerates her frown, but a little too much. Her face is warped enough to throw her into the uncanny valley. Even white monsters don’t usually have this creepy of a face.
“So you’re going to talk to your own reflection?
“That’s my business.”
“Isn’t your reflection right there?” he gestures towards the water.
“I told you, I’m a piffy.”
“I still don’t know what that is.”
“It’s too big, I need a smaller mirror. I don’t care how it’s designed, just so that it can sit on a flat surface on its own, and is too small to fit through if it were a window.” That might sound like safer specifications than the most dangerous time mirror would have, some of which can be stepped through as portals, but no means of reaching across space and time is worth what she might do with even only an ounce of freedom beyond the confines of this one corner of this one celestial body.
“As I said...no.”
“Then you will never find your children.”
“You are not my only avenue.” He turns around to leave.
“No tracker can find them either,” she insists. “They are...beyond their sight.”
He looks back with a bit of a smirk. “A decent tracker can find anyone in the universe. If they’re beyond that, they’re in another universe. They’re in Fort Underhill.” He turns around again, and begins to walk away.
“Not...Fort Underhill,” she clarifies. After he turns to face her again. “Not Salmonverse either. Not even Ansutah.”
He narrows his eyes at Effigy. “A new universe,” he reasons. “That’s what they’re doing. They’re building one, just like Hogarth did. I knew it.”
“I never said that.” She’s either realizing that she has said too much, or this is all part of some dastardly plan, and her upset demeanor is yet another ploy.”
“Either way, I know who to talk to now. You’re not getting your mirror.” He turns away for the last time now, determined not to let her change his mind.
So he can’t see, but he can hear that she’s turned back into Judy. “Stop! No! I’m so lonely. Don’t go!” There’s a pause before he makes it back over to the wall. “Daddy!” She sounded like Clavia just there. He knows that it’s a trick. It’s easier to see that when you’re aware of the extent of her powers. Still, it’s hard to ignore, and he has to fight his instincts. It takes everything he has to open that door, and leave.

Friday, April 4, 2025

Microstory 2380: Vacuus, October 29, 2179

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

Thanks for the compliment, you’re not so bad yourself. I wouldn’t mind seeing a few more photos. As for your question about what I might have done with my life had I been born on a pre-apocalyptic Earth, I’ve always wanted to work with my hands. Obviously, I need my hands to do my real job well, but I’ve never gotten those hands dirty. As your twin and I realized, our base is immaculate. The systems are designed to keep out all the Vacuan dust, and keep the atmosphere in. If I had been born on Earth instead, say a hundred years ago, I guess I would have liked to be a gardener, or something. Yeah, we have a garden here, but it’s not really the kind I’m talking about. It’s so stale and perfect, like everywhere else. It would have been nice to plant beautiful flowers just for the sake of it, not because anyone needed food. To crouch there on the edge of the colorful garden, smiling up at the sun. We don’t have a sun here, so I suppose just about anything outdoors would be amazing. I do yoga too, so I’m flexible, and don’t have any problem being on my hands and knees. I’ve attached a photo of myself doing my morning yoga. It was taken a few years ago, when I was in slightly better shape, but I’m still doing okay. That’s about all I can do to workout unless I want to fight over the three treadmills that we have. You must have other ways of staying fit. Exactly how big and comprehensive are these domes that you live under? Have you ever gone swimming in a pool, or an artificial pond? You can send me a picture of that if you want. We’re so confined here, and swimming would be a huge waste of resources, we would never dream of it. Back in the day, people would make fun of one of my grandfather’s friends because he didn’t know how to swim, but these days, that’s probably a whole lot of people. It looks fun, but it’s just not practical. I did design myself a swimsuit once, just to see what it looked like. I can send you that photo too, if you’re interested. Researchers are developing virtual reality, which could give people so many opportunities that they never had before, like swimming, or opportunities that would be impossible in the real world, like flying without an aircraft. Could you imagine? Okay, I’m just fantasizing now. What kind of fantasies do you have? Don’t be afraid to be a little provocative, if that’s what’s on your mind. We all have dreams.

Dreaming of you,

Velia

Tuesday, March 5, 2024

Microstory 2097: I Even Did Poorly in English

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.

Friday, December 22, 2023

Microstory 2045: North Dakota

Before my papa was born, his parents would go to a forest called the Roosevelt National Park, which is located in North Dakota. It isn’t that far from the border to Montana. Papa never went there himself, but on my grandpa’s birthday, who was dead, papa wanted to honor him with a family trip. We took a plane over there, and stayed in tents. We ate outside, and we hiked, and I swam in a lake a little bit. I know that it’s a really beautiful place, but I don’t have very good feelings about North Dakota. This is where my papa started getting sick. I hope I don’t cry while I’m presenting this slide. My papa had a real hard time on this trip. He had trouble walking, and he felt very weak all the time. I remember seeing him twitch while we were sitting around the campfire. He was also talking kinda funny, like he was trying to talk with his mouth full. We didn’t know what was wrong with him at the time, but we hoped that it would just go away. He took it easy for the rest of the trip, and then we just went back home. The problems started getting worse after that, so he went to the doctor, and he was eventually diagnosed with Amyotrophic Lateral Sclerosis. Most people just call it ALS, because that’s hard to say.

Tuesday, November 14, 2023

Microstory 2017: Rhode Island

After my papa was finished with college, instead of going out to get a job, he decided to attend a place called Watch Hill Naval Academy. He had to take more classes in order to learn how to be an officer in the Navy and work in a submarine. From the records that my dad found, papa first took a 3 month course to teach him what it’s like to be a military officer. After that, he spent another 6 months learning about nuclear power, which sounds really scary and cool. Then after that, he spent another 6 months using what he learned working at an actual nuclear power plant. Finally, after all that, he got on a sub to learn to operate it with a crew of other officers. Submarines are really dangerous, and hard to use. That’s why he had to spend so much time learning these skills, because if someone messes up on a submarine, it could mean everyone on it dying all at once. Unlike the way it is on a ship, if something goes wrong in a sub, you can’t jump off and swim away. Not only can you not breathe underwater, but the water is really heavy, and it hurts for it to be on top of you when you go deeper and deeper. My papa was really smart, and he also cared about people, which is why he wanted to use his engineering degree to protect this country, and make the world a better place. I’m so proud of him, and I wish I had known all of this about him before. The military is a noble and difficult profession. Probably no one in our class will join the military, but if it turns out to be true, it will only probably be one of us, according to the math.

Tuesday, October 31, 2023

Microstory 2007: Oregon

In summer of 1987, papa was 14 years old, and about to start high school for the first time. But remember, this would be at the same school he was before, but it was still going to be different. His mother was a teacher, so she knew how important schooling was. She knew that it was going to be a lot harder for papa than it was in the lower grades. She wanted him to have one more experience as a kid, where he could have fun, and not worry about grades yet. She also wanted him to be away from his family, because she knew that he was going to have to go off to college when he got older, so he had to learn. She found a summer camp that went for a whole two months! I went to summer camp once, but it was only for two weeks. Papa only saw his parents twice while he was there, and his sister once. I remember him telling me that he had a lot of fun, but he was sad to be away from his family and friends for so very long. He made friends there, though, that he stayed friends with. They did a whole lot of things there, like swimming, horseback riding, and even archery. The camp was in Oregon, so it took them 9 hours to get there, which is why his family didn’t get to visit him very often. The place was called Antelope Reservoir Camp, and it doesn’t exist anymore, because the people who owned it ran out of money. I would have liked to see where my papa spent so much time, but maybe when I’m older, my dad will let me go to a place that’s like it.

Sunday, February 5, 2023

The Advancement of Mateo Matic: Year 32,398

Asier doesn’t come to retrieve Mateo after the next break from realtime. The stasis pod hatch opens on its own ten thousand years later, so Mateo steps out to head for the master sitting room. It’s empty, which he takes as an opportunity. Looking around to make sure that no one is spying on him, he creeps over to the globe, and opens it up. It’s empty too; the Omega Gyroscope has been removed from it.
“She knew she couldn’t trust you,” Bhulan reveals.
Mateo closes it back up without looking at her. “I just wanted to see it again.”
“Uhuh,” she says, not believing him. “It’s hers, you know. As long as the Gyroscope is in use, the user can do whatever they want with it, and no one can take it from them until the current objective has been fulfilled, or they give it freely.”
“It can’t be stolen, got it.” He steps away from it and sighs.
“I can be convinced not to tell her you came straight here to steal it.”
“I wasn’t stealing it, I was just going to borrow it.”
“For what purpose?”
“To get back to my family.”
Bhulan chuckles. “That thing can’t do that for you. I mean, technically it can, but not on its own. People seem to think that its power is limitless, but it’s not. It can alter the physical laws of the world that it is in. It can’t turn you into a bird, and it can’t send you forward in time. At best, it would give you the option of jumping through time, but you would have to figure out how to actually accomplish that on your own.”
“What if I asked it to alter the world so that psychically-powered wormholes capable of time travel open up when conceived up by someone who wants one?”
She smiles. “That’s creative, but you’re not psychic enough. It doesn’t alter people, I mean, not really. Like I said, it can’t turn you into a bird.”
“No birds, no psychics. Understood.”
“Anyway, we’re having a pool party today, if you wanna come. We can print you a swimsuit. I bet you’ve never worn one that fits perfectly.”
It seems weird to have a pool party with five people, three of which are related, but he follows her anyway. They’re in the short course pool today, instead of the Olympic-size one, and it is packed full of party-goers. Who the hell are these people? “Are they holograms, androids...?”
“Oh no, they’re real,” she claims. “Have you ever heard of Westfall?”
“So, they don’t even know where they are?”
“They think that this is a rich community’s disaster bunker.”
“Isn’t that what it actually is anyway?” Mateo suggests.
She just rolls her eyes. The three of them aren’t rich in the traditional sense, but they command all of this real estate, and all power is concentrated in them. They’re rich.
“Did you ask for them to come here?” he asks. “Spit it out,” he encourages when she hesitates to respond.
“It’s the Gyroscope. This is a glitch. Tamerlane thinks it has something to do with its user. He was actually the first Westfall victim to show up, and he just never left. Without them, there would be nothing to do here. Most of the time, when we’re not in stasis, it’s because alarms have reported that someone is here who shouldn’t be. One of us is then tasked with leaving the stasis chamber, and containing the intruder.”
“That’s why Danica is so freaked out, because the whole point is to prevent all this scifi stuff from being able to happen in this reality.”
“Yeah, pretty much.”
“But intruders like this don’t happen in the other realities, right?”
“Not to this annoying degree, no.” She gestures towards the kids laughing and screaming in the water, thinking they’re pulling one over on a wealthy snob.
“Maybe it’s wrong to think of it as a glitch. Maybe it’s more of a consequence. The Gyroscope is like a vacuum, sucking up all temporal energy, and pushing it away from the world, but that opens tears in whatever separates this universe from others. Things are supposed to go out only, but occasionally, something comes the wrong direction through these tears. I mean, maybe it’s even the temporal energy itself that’s doing it. If you were trying to suck out all the carbon, it would be fine, but what you’re doing is taking power away from us, and giving it to them, which they then use to sneak in.”
Bhulan slowly turns her face away from him in thought. “Hmm.”
“I don’t sound like an idiot?”
“Usually, yes, but that was surprisingly...not entirely ridiculous. What we need to do is move the temporal energy out of the world, and put it somewhere where we can contain it, where it can’t affect anyone. Like a...pocket dimension?”
“Or how about Durus?” Mateo offers. He’s not doing it to be nice. Durus is a rogue planet that is not very far away from Earth in celestial terms, and if he and his friends can get back to the AOC, it won’t take them long to make the journey. From there, the smart team members will surely be able to come up with a way out of the Third Rail, with virtually limitless power at their disposal.
“No, there are too many people there. Well, not in this reality, of course, but in others, and that would put them at risk of accidentally crossing over. One errant portal, and the system breaks down.”
That’s okay, it doesn’t have to be Durus. As long as Mateo knows where it is, they can get to it four and a half billion years from now. By then, these people will have tossed it to the back of their minds so they can focus on other issues. Once this new plan works, they’ll stop worrying about it, which will allow Mateo’s team to exploit it. “I suppose Dardius is out.” He doesn’t want them choosing it, because it’s too far away from here. The AOC can’t make it in a reasonable amount of time.
“Yeah, we wouldn’t wanna do that.” She looks over at him. “In fact, we wouldn’t want it to be anywhere where there are people. That includes you. You’re trying to trick me into telling you where we’ll end up sending the temporal energy.”
“I don’t understand the problem,” Mateo argues. “You want us to leave the Third Rail, we want to leave the Third Rail. To me, that sounds like our objectives are aligned, but you keep acting like I’m the frickin’ enemy.”
“It’s more complicated than that.”
“Yeah, it’s way complicated, and I’m just a big ol’ dum-dum who couldn’t find his arms with his hands. Well, if I’m no longer needed, I think I’ll go take a nap. I haven’t slept in a long time, because the time jumps give me a huge case of FOMO.”
“Mateo...”
“No, it’s okay, I understand. Good luck with your little power vacuum.” Holy crap, power vacuum? Is it really that obvious? Did he just help himself realize where they end up dumping the temporal energy?