Microstory 2449: Windbourne

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Holy crap, it’s windy here! It’s almost like that’s the point! I’m yelling, because it’s hard to hear with all this wind! Did I mention that it was very windy? Why did they make a dome that’s just super windy? Well, I don’t know, why the hell not? What would you do instead? I’m asking a lot of questions, and I’m not a prolific reviewer on the network, so no one’s going to answer them. The staff certainly didn’t. It’s windy here, because that’s the way they wanted it, and they were technologically capable of it. Before you read on (if you do manage to find this review) you should know that I’m one of the uneducated. By early 21st century standards, I would have been an average student. By today’s standards, with perfections in educational tools, and individualized lesson planning, I’m well-below average. I did this on purpose. I don’t find value in learning beyond a certain point. I’m happy, and I’m content with who I am. So if you’re looking for a scientifically dense explanation for how the wind generation works here, tap on, buddy...tap on. Windbourne. It’s windy. The topography has been moulded to create the perfect conditions for wind, where they want it, when they want it. Air is heated and cooled in very precise configurations to create the wind patterns as planned. Temperature usually flows spontaneously from hot to cold, I remember that. I’m not sure how they’re heated, but I think the process is solar-powered, perhaps by use of mirrors, rather than just solar panels to convert into electricity. They also use gargantuan fans to control the airflow, but I didn’t see them, so the must have cleverly hidden them behind geographic features, or maybe holographic illusions. Some regions are windier than others, of course, and they tell you where these are. The map color-codes the zones by the speed of the wind, so if you just want a light breeze, you can stay there. If you want near tornado-like conditions, baby, you’re gonna wanna go to Gale City. Winds in this area reach up to 400 kilometers per hour. That sounded like a lot to me, but I didn’t have much of a frame of reference until I tried it myself. What you do is enter a tunnel where you can walk through, or stand on people movers. Once you’re on the other side of the Arnett Mountains, you climb up to these towers. There are robot staff here, so they’ll tell you where to go, and how to get there. You get to your platform, which is fully protected by walls, and situate yourself in the waiting station. You have a few options here. You can strap yourself in, hold onto the straps, hold onto a bar, or freehand it. Once you’re ready, they’ll open the flap behind you. At this point, you can hear the wind roaring at your sides, and above you, but you’re still protected. This only lasts for a few moments before the wall opposite you opens up. The wind rushes in, as I said, at 400 km/h. What happens to you next is entirely dependent upon your choices, both leading up to it, and once you hit the point of no return. Did you grab on to something? Can you keep holding onto it? Are you gonna fly over the edge? If you do, will you activate a parachute, or a wingsuit? If not, will you manage to land in one of the scattered foam pits, or plummet to your death? Please note that, due to the obvious dangers, there are certain criteria that you must meet before they let you go to Gale City, such as, do you have a heart condition, and do you have mind-transference on, or are you a suicidal moron? I’ve already gone on the ride several times, and I’m gonna end this here, so I can go back to see if I can beat my own record for the farthest fall without wings. Wild ride, friends, wild ride. Catch the wind, and fly out of control!

Microstory 2413: Polar Tropica

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I’m at the bottom of the world. If you want to see the biggest known ocean on a habitable planet, go to Earth. I know that they seeded human life on some other planets, so I guess I can’t speak about those, but I’m guessing that Earth still takes the cake, so to speak. The next best thing, however, is on Castlebourne. This planet has two oceans, which are man-made. Have you ever thought about how unusual that word is? My guess is that it’s a holdover from back in the day when things really were constructed by humans. There I go, showing my age. A bunch of quincentenarians are rolling their eyes now. “No, d’uh it’s because we used to have to make everything by hand, you idiot.” Of course, it would be technically unfeasible to try to accomplish something like this with manual labor alone. The land was mostly there, but the automators had to do a lot of digging so the water would be contained to these two spots. The domes here are much more disproportionate, and do not form hemispheres. Still, because of how insanely wide they are, they’re much taller. It says here that they’re 3300 kilometers in diameter and 216 kilometers high at the zenith. When you’re inside, the holographic projections make it look like you’re just outside. Really, you cannot tell the difference between the two environments. If you abducted someone from Earth, transported them here, and let them wake up on the beach, they would assume they were still on Earth. Certainly if you took them from, like, the 21st century, where they didn’t know about alien planets yet. More recent days, who knows? I’m getting off topic, I know. I’m here to discuss Polar Tropica. This is the southern dome. It’s more of a cap, really. Someone else in our orientation group called it a little yarmulke for the world. I had to look that up. It’s a religious thing, LOL. Just run an image search for that, and you’ll get that he was right, though. Okay, enough about the shape. Unlike on Earth, the oceans here are perfectly tailored, and maintained. The temperature always sits between 21 and 27 degrees. It depends on what time of day it is, and precisely where you are. If you recall, it’s a giant environment, so they don’t have to keep it at the same temperature everywhere at once. They control the humidity too, but I don’t have those numbers. Basically, it’s perfect. It’s always comfortable. Some of the water is deep, but not as deep as a natural ocean would be. You can stand in water that’s miles and miles away from any shore in some places, which is just so amazing. Name something you can do in a real ocean, you can do it here. You can even fish, though you’ll be catching animatronic sea creatures, so just remember that, you violent psycho. Anyway, there’s a strip of land that runs the entire perimeter of this thing, and random islands dotting the water. Some of them even float, which you can’t get on Earth either. There’s a giant island in the very center that serves as a sort of hub. There are residential spaces there, and I think that a lot of people are making it their permanent homes. Who could be unhappy in a place like this? To me, if the only habitable region on Castlebourne was Polar Tropica, it would be worth it. But I guess you’ll have to see for yourself...

Microstory 2193: Unremarkable Piece of Wood

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As I warned you, there is nothing that I can say about our hiring process right now. We’re in a precarious position, and have to keep things confidential until the next step. But my work is the only thing I’m doing right now, and I don’t have anything else to tell you. What shall we discuss instead? How about I just make up a quick story for you? It’s been a while since I’ve written fiction. I kind of started to try soon after I arrived here, but nothing came of it. Yeah, I think I’ll see if I still have the skills. Here goes.

I don’t have any trees in my yard, nor do my neighbors. They had all been removed by the time my dog and I moved in here a few years ago, so I couldn’t tell you why. I see stumps, so they were there at some point. I bought it because there’s a lot of space for her to run around, and a really nice deck. There was a tiny little porch behind our old house, and she loved to sleep there, but she deserves better. One morning, I let her out to do her business when I discovered a twig right in the center of the deck. It had to have blown in from quite a distance away. I drew meaning from it that surely wasn’t there. Still, I tossed it over the railing, and it landed on the patio. The next day, I noticed it still sitting there, so I casually threw it back up onto the deck. I kept doing that periodically ever since. I would sometimes go out, and leave it alone, but sometimes switch it from one of its landing spots to the other. Again, it wasn’t every time, but it still felt like part of my routine. It felt like it was something that I ought to do, like a little game I played with myself. A few weeks ago, I was barking at my dog, trying to get her to do her thing quickly, because I was running late for work. It was really hot, so while she can normally just stay outside, I was going to have to keep her inside, and drive home during my lunch break to let her out again. I wasn’t paying attention to what I was doing, and heard a crack underfoot. I froze there for a moment, certain that it couldn’t be what I thought. Perhaps it was only an acorn, or something. Of course, an acorn would be just as unusual to find here, but far less valuable, because that twig was mine. I carefully lifted my leg, and saw it sitting there. It appeared to be okay. It was still intact. I smiled, and picked it up. Yes, everything was going to be okay. I tossed it back up to the deck, and called my dog over, so we could move on with our day. She trotted up the steps, slower than I would like. She knows how impatient I get, but my girlfriend occasionally comes in through the garage, and she’s always sniffing around for her new mama, even when she’s not there. We got all the way up to the deck, and then I saw it. The twig was where I threw it, but in two pieces. It hadn’t survived my attack. I froze again, unsure what I was supposed to do now. It sounds so stupid, this unremarkable piece of wood, that I should care so deeply for it. How long would it have lasted if this hadn’t happened? I’ll never know, because I ruined it. I can’t concentrate on my work, or anything else I’ve tried to do. I think the incident just sort of forced everything I wasn’t happy about in my life to bubble to the surface. I dunno, I’m no psychologist. Life just seems so futile now. No matter how many times you’re able to toss that twig over the railing, it falls apart eventually. Everything ends. Everything dies.

Microstory 2161: All Cons, All the Way

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Last weekend was not fun. Sleeping in jail is usually the hardest part about it. It’s always either too hot or too cold, and of course, you have no control over any of that. We can shut the lights off in our cell, but the lights in the hallway are always on, and shining through the little window. The top bunk is better than the bottom one for that reason, but I always let my cellmate have it, honestly because I have a more comfortable life on the outside, so I think he needs it more. I hope he’s not offended by that. At any rate, these are all things that you can get used to once you figure out how to adapt. The reason it was so bad on Friday and Saturday nights is because we had a group of disharmonious newbies. It takes a certain type of personality to be suited to intermittent jail, or to fulltime prison instead, and determining which is something that I don’t, and never will, comprehend. Either the judges meant to make these assessments made mistakes, or there were variables beyond their control. Knowing where precisely to place each guest is probably impossible to get right, and certainly not every single time. I don’t think that each of these guys was bad on their own, but they just didn’t fit with each other, or anyone else. We were all particularly grumpy and anxious, and no one was happy. Again, I think that it would have been fine if the new guys had been scheduled for a different part of the week, or if someone else had been moved to it. I don’t know. There’s no way to know. It’s just something that happens, so you can add it to the list of reasons to not do something that will ultimately get you sent to jail, in case your pros and cons chart isn’t as uneven as it ought to be. All cons, all the way. That’s the way I see it anyway. I suppose if you’re otherwise unhoused, it might be your best option, but that’s a whole systemic issue that I think can—and should—be solved in a myriad of other ways. Well, that’s what made sleeping so much harder last weekend, but it wasn’t the only thing. I thought that I was going to be able to make up for it on Sunday night, but it didn’t work out that way. The fire alarms went off throughout the whole building at around 02:15 in the morning, forcing us all to go outside, and stand in our designated area for almost an hour before we received the all clear. They won’t tell us exactly what happened, but they promised that no one was hurt, and the damage didn’t spread. This means that there was a fire, though, instead of just a faulty alarm system, or a prank. So I guess I can’t be mad that they woke me up, and kept me up. I had to push my work hours back today, but I got everything done, and at least it didn’t happen on a Friday, which would have screwed up my jail schedule. Here’s hoping that I’m not accidentally foreshadowing the future.

Microstory 2052: Day Two

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I have to write this one really quickly, because I’m running out of money, and I know that I really shouldn’t be spending it on the internet, when what I really need is food and shelter, but I figure that I can get those things for free if I’m smart, or just later. First, while my immortality is gone, I’m still running on the energy that I got back when a window to the bulk briefly opened up. I probably won’t have to eat for at least for another week, maybe two. The weather is surprisingly mild here. They say it’s January in Kansas City, but it doesn’t feel like that. I don’t think the temperature—or the weather in general, for that matter—has changed once since I arrived here yesterday. Either your calendar is a lot different than the ones in other universes, or geography is. Maybe the continents drifted differently? Could this version of North America be closer to where the equator would be—wait, no, that doesn’t make any sense. I would have noticed that just by looking at a globe. The equator is the equator, regardless, and we’re about as distant from it as I recall. This is just super weird. Anyway, where was I? Oh, I had a little money in my pocket from Havenverse, and luckily, they use the same kind of bills here. I think that’s kind of how it works, though. Westfall is a special section of a universe-traveling machine called The Crossover. Westfall is seemingly random, and doesn’t send you clear across to a distant brane that’s unlike your own. The whole point is that you usually don’t even realize it’s happened. A lot of things are gonna be the same, like currency, and history, but apparently not weather. Still need to find a job, and a place to live, though. If anyone has any leads, hit me up in the comments. At this point, I’ll do pretty much anything. But I don’t deal with food or cleaning. Or waste or sewage. Or animals, because I’m allergic. And I really don’t like to work with my hands, or lift really heavy objects. I don’t want the environment to be too dirty or cold. I’m also not very skilled, so it needs to be entry level, but still pay extremely well. Other than that, I’m up for anything. Let me know, I’m gonna go take another nap in the park.

Microstory 1785: Through the Vela

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I reach out and shake the baby bear’s little paw. He smiles wider, and looks a bit relieved. The old man tells me as much. People are often so reluctant and unsympathetic when they meet him. They’re too afraid. They just came through something called the Vela, and still think they’re about to wake up from a bad dream. It’s not a dream. It’s all real. The man built this cabin near Big Bear Lake deliberately because it happens to be some kind of focal point of instantaneous travel. People from all over the world spontaneously wake up here having never transited the space in between. Every night someone new arrives somewhere in a kilometer radius of this cabin. For some reason, I showed up earlier than usual, which is why mama bear wasn’t ready for me. She’s normally tasked with going out, and nudging the arrivals to the cabin. She’s not as smart as her son, but she knows that she can convince people to go this direction simply by placing herself on the other side of them. She was probably pretty surprised that I wasn’t scared of her, and was able to pass by her with none of her usual form of coercion. Very rarely, two people will show up on one night, so she continues to patrol until morning. That’s why she didn’t come back with me. When I ask the man what happens next, he tells me that the Vela chooses people using whatever parameters it’s decided upon, if it’s even sentient. He doesn’t know. He only knows it’s my job to find my own exit, but only after new clothes and hot tea. I’m not sure I’m going to go look for an exit point. It might be nice, renting a car, and driving back myself. It’s not like I have anywhere better to be. I don’t have to work until Monday, and my parents will be okay on their own for now. Anyway, I don’t have to decide anything right away. I’ll just sit and enjoy my tea.

A half hour later, the mother returns, but she’s not alone. A woman about my age is accompanying her. She doesn’t appear to be scared of the beast either, nor worried about where she is, or what the hell is going on. She too is naked, and isn’t even shivering. I didn’t think there was anyone else in the world who likes the cold as much as I do. She asks the same questions, and the man answers them again. She asks a couple more, like how the bears are so smart. The mom had her own Vela experience while she was pregnant, and it changed the both of them. Brown bears aren’t even native to this area, but they chose to stick around so they could help the humans. This calling has been passed down the old man’s family for generations, but the incidents became more and more frequent, and he never found the time to meet someone, so the bloodline ends with him. When he dies, people are just going to have to deal with their situation themselves. The woman and I exchange a look. Little bear nuzzles her knee, so she pets him. All my life I’ve been trying to figure out whether I had some kind of purpose. Folding clothes, and returning them to their tables surely isn’t it. I’m sure my sister can take care of our parents on her own. She prefers it, and I’ve never been much help anyway. Perhaps this is what I’ve been looking for this whole time. This old man needs to retire, and the lost souls who pass through here need a way to return home. I tell him this, and he thanks me. He doesn’t even try to argue, or talk me out of it. He’s obviously been hoping for a replacement for awhile now, but he’s never known how to go about asking. The woman stands and informs him that now he has two to take his place. We all smile, even me.

Microstory 1784: Little Bear

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There are a few things you would expect to find in a cabin in the middle of the woods, especially in an area that experiences very cold temperatures. The place is small, and you can tell as much from the outside, so you wouldn’t expect it to be a comfortable glamping getaway with multiple rooms, or even electricity. The logs are rotting slightly, and the porch swing has one broken chain, leaving it dangling against the floor awkwardly. I would have bet on a few essentials once I stepped inside, like a wooden table with wooden chairs; a bed that’s low to the ground, or even just a cot; an old black metal stove thing that I feel like Benjamin Franklin invented? None of that is here. None of what’s in here makes any damn sense, and if I would leave if it weren’t freezing out there. It doesn’t look dangerous, just bizarre. The first thing I notice is the arcade game. Besides a novelty table lamp in the shape of an elephant that’s hanging on the wall, the game machine is the only thing that’s giving off any significant amount of light. I don’t recognize the name of it, but that’s no surprise. I’m too young, and not hip enough to know anything about the history. Bear Bonds could have been the most popular game in the 80s, for all I know. Anyway, the screen isn’t the only thing producing light. The whole thing has what look like Christmas lights strewn about, except they’re built into the paneling, so I think that’s just how it comes. Next to it is one of those Japanese toilets with a touch screen, and probably a bidet, and I’m sure it talks to you. I can’t tell if it’s connected to the plumbing, but on the other side of it is the real bathroom. There’s a metal prison sink, and one of those space-age shower pods from the 1970s that I saw on a funny picture website once. There’s no toilet in there at all, so maybe he just likes to spread out more. I best not think about it. There are plenty of other weird things in here.

There seems to be no closet, but there’s a rack on casters. He has one three piece suit on it. It looks really nice, like maybe it was tailored by an expensive professional who only serves an average of one client a month. That wouldn’t seem so weird, maybe this guy is a stock broker who comes here to unwind. Except the rest of the rack is occupied by hanging fish, a few of which are still flopping on their hooks a little bit. How are they still alive in the least? I also swear to God that the suit was on one end of the rack, but now it’s spontaneously moved to the right. I kind of hope that didn’t happen, and I’m suffering from exposure delirium. That is a fancy platter of rotten strawberries, right there on the floor. Next to it is a ship in the bottle without the bottle. The way it’s staged, it’s like a child was eating the fruit, and playing with the ship, but they haven’t been back in a long time, and the man never cleaned it up. There is no dining table, and no chairs whatsoever, nor a bed. The curtains are made of Latin language newspapers. I don’t mean they’re taped on the glass to prevent snipers on the roof of the next building over from spotting the bank robbers. He carefully glued the pages together, and hung them up on the rod. I suppose that’s one way to reuse, reduce, and recycle. A mail cart has been upturned near the corner. A whole encyclopedia collection is stacked on top of it. I don’t know why he didn’t just put them inside the cart, but it’s not what matters. That’s not the strangest thing. Hiding behind that cart, I finally notice a baby bear. It’s sitting up and peeking out from behind the books. When it sees me see it, it comes out of the shadows, and smiles at me. Then it holds out its hand like it wants me to shake it.

Microstory 1783: Big Bear

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One thing to know about me is that I prefer the cold. I live in a midwest state with seasons, but I hate the summer. I could work in retail anywhere, but my parents had me when they were already pretty old, so I’m kind of obligated to stick around. Still, I blast the air conditioning when it’s hot, and keep the windows open. Is that illegal? I don’t know. Is it wrong? I guess we just have different definitions of morality. The A/C stays on during a lot of the winter, and I still at least have my bedroom window open while I’m trying to sleep. I say all this in preface, so you’ll understand that I don’t know how long I was outside on the ground before I even realized it. Had it been my sister, it would have been a different story. She keeps her house like a friggin’ sauna, I can’t stand it in there. She would have noticed right away if she had suddenly found herself in the spring air, let alone this freezing cold place. I finally wake up, and that probably has more to do with needing to relieve myself than anything. I might never have noticed until the sun came out, and maybe not even for a long time after that, because my alarm clock didn’t accompany me. I have no idea where I am, or how I got there. I see trees and dirt, and that is pretty much it. I see pine needles instead of leaves, which I find unusual. I like the cold, but not the outdoors. I would never go camping in a million years, so there’s no chance I got so drunk last night that I made this choice on my own. Someone would have had to bring me here against my will. They might have left me to die because they underestimated my ability to survive these temperatures, or maybe something went wrong, and they had to scrap their original plans with me. Either way, as okay as I am like this, I know I’m no superhero. I will die out here without shelter and clothing.

I start walking, hoping to catch the scent of a campfire, or the rumble of late night traffic. I could be moving even deeper away from civilization, but there is no way for me to know. I don’t have those lizard brain instincts that normal people have kept. Walking is warming me up, if only just a little. If I don’t come across someone’s tent, or a cave, staying in place would still be foolish. Besides, if someone did leave me, but planned on coming back, I’m better off as far from the drop site as I can get. I can see a lake in the moonlight, but I don’t know if I should go for it. Am I more likely to find salvation there then elsewhere? I’m proud of myself. I’m not too keen on walking either, but I haven’t stopped once to take a break. Maybe this ain’t so bad. I spoke too soon, or rather thought it. I finally do stop when I run into a gigantic creature. It’s dark as all hell, but my assumption is that it’s a bear. It was low to the ground, but now it’s raised itself up, meaning that it started on four legs, and now it’s on two. That’s something I know bears can do. It doesn’t growl, or even seem that menacing. Maybe it’s just trying to get a good look at me. I also know that you’re supposed to pretend to be bigger, and make a lot of noise. I don’t think I’m gonna do that, though. I just adjust my heading, and walk away. It doesn’t get mad or try to follow. I doubt it eats people, and it can tell that I’m not a real threat. Lights. I see lights through the trees. As I approach, I see that it’s a cabin, and it’s occupied. This could be who took me, but this is my only shot at survival. I knock on the door, and a scruffy old man opens. He’s not surprised to receive a visitor, even though we’re in the middle of nowhere, and I’m completely naked. He lets me in, and I ask him where we are. “This is Big Bear Lake, son. California.” Yeah, that tracks.

Microstory 1443: First Gasp

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On July 17, 2132, a man was dished a deadly blow on Earth. His name was Keanu ‘Ōpūnui, and he developed his powers in a very similar way that the source mages did. The Springfield Nine, as they were called, were a group of people from Springfield, before it became the one-horse town that it was when the Deathfall occurred the better part of two decades later. Precisely who was part of the Nine, and who was merely associated with them was a little confusing, and everyone you ask will give you a different answer, but either way, most of the people in it were friends. The source mages were given time powers because they were at certain points in the process of prenatal development. The Nine were elementary school children when they received their powers, but both groups got them from the same thing. A pocket dimension that once existed as a bridge between Earth and Durus messed with people’s minds, and their DNA, and was capable of changing both on a fundamental level. This dimension was shattered during the Deathfall, but these twenty people were already permanently affected by it. The source mages ended up living on Durus, but the Springfield Nine stayed on Earth, and often caused problems there. Keanu had what he called time meshing. It was like filter portaling, except that the filter was much finer, so it was better used to alter the temperature of the environment than anything else. He was basically taking the weather from one place in time, and sending it to another, which sometimes balanced out both. Dioxygen could pass through, but transporting water was always a little more difficult for him. Keanu didn’t use his powers for good. He could have kept protesters cool in the summertime, or warmed a homeless camp in the wintertime. Instead, he looked for ways to capitalize on what he could do, and he hurt a lot of people along the way. It wasn’t morally good, but it also wasn’t surprising when one of these people hurt him right back. For trying to kill his daughter, a man named Horace Reaver stabbed Keanu in the chin with a sword. He didn’t die instantly, though. He had one more move.

Since the Springfielders first appeared on Durus, many tried to figure out where the breathable air came from. It wasn’t physically impossible for a rogue planet to maintain an atmospheric shell, but this phenomenon wasn’t particularly easy, and the chances that it would be conducive to human life were negligible. Through seers, philosophers, and other experts, the people finally had their answer. Or rather, they had a pretty good idea when the air first appeared on the surface. They still didn’t know about Keanu, or his power, but they did know that the year 2092 was going to bring trouble. With his last moments falling upon him, Keanu attempted to take his enemies down with him, even though it would also kill some of his friends. He tried sending all of the oxygen in the cave they were in to the vacuum of outer space, where it would be wasted. But since he was so badly hurt, he was incapable of focusing his power. He ended up sending himself to Durus instead. It was a one in a million chance, but then again, so was everything else that had ever happened on the planet. The fact was that if this hadn’t happened to Keanu, no one would have survived long enough on Durus to wonder why not. It was Keanu ‘Ōpūnui who quite literally breathed life into the world, which was great, but it came with a catch. His death sent air from Earth in both directions of time, so that Savitri could use it in 1980, and later Durune had it in 2204, but for thirty seconds in the middle, it didn’t exist at all. Everyone on Durus during that time would be totally without air. Now, some believed that all they would have to do was hold their breath for that amount of time. They knew it would be coming, and most people—even children—had the lung capacity to survive this. Unfortunately, it was a lot more complicated than that. Oxygen wouldn’t simply disappear from the outside, but also inside their bodies. This would cause a lot of health issues. The only solution, in some people’s minds, was to skip over this short moment in time altogether. While families huddled together, preparing for the pain, a certain young woman with time powers saved them all once again, and she never even took credit for it. Sadly, there was nothing she could do about the buildings that were made of concrete and metal. When they returned to the timestream a minute later, the towns of Springfield and Splitsville were utterly destroyed.

Microstory 1289: The Man and His Breath

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A satyr was walking along the path in the dead of winter when he came across a human doing the same. The man looked cold and weary, and he explained that he had many steps yet to go, so the satyr offered to let him stay in his little hut for the night. The satyr led his friend along the path, towards his home. As they were walking, the satyr noticed the man breathing into his hands. “Why do you do that?” the satyr asked.

“This keeps both my hands, and my face, warm.”

The satyr believed he knew what the man meant, even though the temperature didn’t bother him much. He was built for this kind of weather. When they arrived at his place, he sat his new friend at the table while he started a fire, and prepared a nice meal for them to eat together. Once the porridge was ready, he sat down himself, and started to eat. He didn’t even notice how hot it was. The man, however, first blew on his porridge, just like he had when he was outside. “Why do you do that?” the satyr found himself asking again.

“This cools the porridge down,” the man explained.

“That doesn’t make any sense,” the satyr complained. “Why not one hour ago, you did the same thing to make something warm!”

“Yes,” said the man. “It’s called the second law of thermodynamics. My breath is about the same temperature as it always is. Which means it’s warmer than the winter air outside, and cooler than the porridge that was heated by fire. When my breath mixes with these things, they make each other change temperatures. Which direction that temperature goes—colder, or hotter—depends entirely on which end of the spectrum they are to begin with.”

This story was inspired by, and revised from, an Aesop Fable called The Man and the Satyr.

Dardius: Vitalie Crawville (Part IV)

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When it came to the question of home, Vitalie Crawville didn’t really know what that meant. She was born on a rogue planet called Durus in 2165, but her fathers were from Earth, and were only there as refugees. Fortunately, before too long, a small interstellar spaceship came by, and rescued a small number of people, which included her and her family. So she finally lived on Earth for a good stretch of time, until circumstances forced her to leave. She had to help a friend named Leona in her search for a husband she couldn’t even truly remember having. The journey took them throughout a few other universes in the bulkverse as they worked to procure special objects that would aid them in their quest. Once that was all over, she found herself on another ship, destined for a planet called Bungula. She never did make it there, but instead landed on its neighbor, Proxima Doma. The situation continued to evolve, and events continued to unfold—an alternate version of herself came back through time to change history—and she finally found herself on a planet millions of light years from Earth, and its stellar neighborhood. So where was home? Not really anywhere, and that was probably okay.

She came to this place with her friend, Étude, who had also been doubled due to time travel. They could have returned home at any time, but they chose not to, for Étude soon met a man, and fell in love. And soon after that, they conceived a child together. This new life changed Étude’s perspective on everything, and she quickly grew tired of the special temporal powers that she was born with. She could teleport and travel through time, and build massive objects almost instantaneously. She didn’t want to be like this anymore, and luckily, she knew someone who did. She also knew someone who could help them with their problem. Her husband, Newt Clemens had the ability to manipulate other people’s abilities. It was he who transferred everything Étude could do to Vitalie, so she could finally take her rightful place as The Caretaker.

Life was great on Dardius, but it wasn’t perfect, and there were times when certain people needed saving. Vitalie was able to provide that for them, as what few could deny was best described as a superhero. She protected the entire world from various threats. There were accidental threats, of course; faulty demolitions, and rickety staircases. There were more human dangers too, however. The populace was composed of people who had been rescued from Earth because they themselves were threatened by time travel. The rescuers made every attempt to properly integrate these people into society, but that didn’t always work out, and it was really nice to have Vitalie on the side of right, to make sure the outliers didn’t cause too much damage. She was good at it, and she was beloved for her efforts by most. Still, this took a toll on her, and it took her a long time to realize why.

Vitalie was nomadic. She didn’t like spending too much time in one place, because that was what she knew best. Circumstances had always thrown her to the next chapter in her life, but Dardius was different. It was stable. More to the point, it was too stable, and it felt to her like she was going to die there, which was something she didn’t want to think about. There wasn’t really any single moment that changed her mind about where she was, and what she was doing. She didn’t fail to save a child from a burning building, or punish someone who turned out to be innocent. These things could have happened, and would not have been available for do-overs, because time travel was illegal on Dardius. Except for one place. It was called Tribulation Island.

A man named Mateo Matic co-owned the whole planet with his wife, Leona. It was given to him by his frenemy, Gilbert Boyce, but it never really belonged to any of them. Dardius belonged to the people, and they had the right to govern civilization however they saw fit. They elected their own leaders, and made their own laws, and any accommodations they made for Mateo was predominantly out of respect. Even his status as the Patronus was a temporary solution to a terrible problem, and he was always destined to return to being less of a governmental official, and more of a symbol. These conditions, however, never applied to Tribulation Island. The Matics owned that land fair and square; like an independent nation over which no one else could have any control. It was for this reason that Vitalie decided to shed her life as the world’s Caretaker, and take up a new purpose. She was never allowed to travel back in time to help people while she was operating on the main lands, but those policies could not extend to the island, so she decided to exploit that.

There is a location in the universe called The Nucleus. No one knows exactly where it is. Some say it’s in a pocket dimension, while others think it’s literally in the center of the universe itself, though inflationary theory doesn’t really support this possibility. Some believe it exists outside of time and space, or perhaps beyond the boundaries of the universe. Wherever it is, no one in recorded history has ever accessed it by any means besides a Nexus replica. A Nexus is a special device used in one of these other universes that allows near instant transportation between planets. The design was replicated in Vitalie’s universe, but functions on vastly different principles. There are very few of them in existence, placed on different worlds for different reasons each. One of these was built on the Nucleus, though no one seems to know who was responsible. For doing so The reigning theory is that someone very, very far into the future finally discovered its true location, and went back in time to give their ancestors quick and easy access so they wouldn’t have to go to all the trouble. Vitalie moved to Tribulation Island to make use of this access.

The Nucleus is capable of accessing any point in spacetime, again for reasons no one who even knows for sure it exists understand. It’s an incredibly hostile and dangerous place, and is quite inhospitable to life. The temperature throughout most of it holds steady at a half degree above absolute zero, which is literally the coldest anywhere could ever possibly be ever. The Nexus replica building possesses a central heating system, but no matter what, it can never raise the temperature any higher than negative forty. External forces are constantly trying to freeze the whole place, so this is as good as it gets. If a traveler were to enter the only safe location on the Nucleus, they would want to do so with extreme-weather protection, and still probably not stay there for very long. Yet Vitalie has technically experienced the environment billions of times.

“What are you doing here?” Old!Vitalie asked. Old!Vitalie was a very different version of the Vitalie who lived on Dardius as the Caretaker. She was billions of years old, but only had memories going back for the last fifty-six. After all this time, she was finally confronting her alternate self. Well...one of them, anyway.

“I’m waiting for everyone to stop using the Nexus replica,” Young!Vitalie answered so I can get back to work. Every second counts. Literally.”

“Explain,” Old!Vitalie demanded.

Young!Vitalie prepared to go into her whole thing. “I was the Caretaker of Dardius, but before that, I was the Caretaker of Proxima Doma. Eventually, people stop needing my help. So I’ve had to find new purpose. Now, I may not look it, but I am over two hundred and sixty years old.”

“I’m much older than that,” Old!Vitalie pointed out.

“True, but I’m also much older than people realize. You see, I came here looking to help people, but I realized a few things about my skills. Number one, they become obsolete. I could go to any planet I want, but the people there will eventually stop needing me. Number two, these other planets do exist, and they do need me. Number three, as powerful as I am, I’m not immortal. I’ve been able to remain young, but I didn’t take immortality water, like you did. My time will eventually run out, so I can’t just keep hopping from planet to planet. I’ll die before I’m even finished with one. So I determined that my only course of action would be to go to all these planets, most of which will not even be inhabited for thousands of years, and extend my services all at once. What am I doing here, my alternate self? I’m generating billions of more alternate selves, and dispatching each one through the Nexus replica.”

“Where do they go?” Old!Vitalie asked.

“They go to a very special place called the Nucleus, and from there, they can move on to their respective final destinations. I can send about eleven alternates every single second, and I’ve been doing that ever since they built this damn thing in 2095.” Young!Vitalie gestured towards the Nexus replica.

“Didn’t people notice you doing that?” Old!Vitalie asked.

Young!Vitalie breathed in deeply. “Yes, which is why I’m still not done. I keep having to take breaks, and let other people use it—or simply hide away so they don’t discover me here. Why, you coming through has already set me back about three thousand planets.”

Old!Vitalie just stared at her. “That’s stupid. What you’re doing is stupid. You’re sending your alternate selves to save people in the future after they colonize planets in the galaxy?”

“Well, not this galaxy, but yeah.”

“Don’t you think that’s a little...?”

“Narcissistic?” Young!Vitalie guessed. “Self-obsessed? Vainglorious? Whatever the difference there is between those three words, and others like them, then yes, all that. But I’m fine with it. Now, if you and your friends are quite finished with this thing, I would like to return to my job.”

“Don’t you wanna be there?” Old!Vitalie questioned.

“For what? Mateo’s funeral?” Young!Vitalie asked back.

“Yes.”

Young!Vitalie shrugged. “I barely knew the guy.”

“Well, maybe you want to be there for his wife?” Old!Vitalie suggested. “It might be kind of nice for her to interact with a version of us who actually remembers the day we met. I have no recollection of that myself, as that day rests far beyond my memory threshold.”

Young!Vitalie could see her point, but this was really important work, and she was almost done with it. Though maybe that was what made it okay. She could probably stand to take one more break, and finish up in the next several years. What’s one day to celebrate the life of someone she did legitimately care about? Well, it was about nine hundred and fifty-thousand planets, so... “Okay, I’ll do it. I just hope I don’t die before I reach the outer edges of the Milky Way galaxy.”

“We all hope that,” Old!Vitalie agreed, though it was hard to tell the difference between sincerity and sarcasm when it came to her delivery. The two of them took each other by the hand, and headed towards the exit together.

Pribadium Delgado vigorously scratched the part of her head just above her ear. “I’ve seen a lot of weird shit since I met you time travelers, but that might be the most bizarre conversation I’ve ever heard.”

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Microstory 785: Valet

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In 2007, Magnate began its line of appliances, which quickly became its most successful department. People would always need ways to store and prepare their food, as well as easily perform everyday household duties. Then in 2012, Magnate expanded to entertainment electronics, including cameras, phones, and music players. As time went on, it was becoming clear that smartphone apps were going to remain the most important tools people use to maintain their lifestyles. There were apps for scheduling, apps for communication, apps for games, and apps for tracking fitness activities. Wanting to bridge their other departments into a more cohesive system, in 2017, Magnate started getting into materianet, which is sometimes known as the tangiblenet, but Magnate coined the former. They wanted to connect every machine or device an individual owned, so they could all communicate with each other, and share data. Theoretically, with this technology, your home will wake up when your car drives close enough to it by adjusting the environmental temperature, opening the garage, turning on the hall lights, switching the television to your favorite news program, and disabling internal security precautions. Before you even leave work, it can remind you to pick up a carton of milk, because it’s been communicated this need by your refrigerator. Similarly, connected cities should be able to measure the traffic on a given road, keeping street lights dimmed when not in use, and brightening them only when a car or pedestrian draws near. This was going to be a huge endeavor, and not everything Magnate has tried has worked out perfectly. But one thing they realized was that they really needed a single system that all devices would use. There needed to be a set of standards, and the company set out to create these, feeling themselves to be in the best position to do so. On the front end of all this is a meta-application called Valet. Valet was programmed to do everything physically possible for you. Valet knows your schedule, because it has access to your online calendar. Armed with this information, it can automatically instruct your thermostat to a setting ideal to saving energy, say when you’re off on vacation. Is a friend dropping by to check on the place while you’re gone? You can temporarily grant her certain house rights, which alters the temperature to her personal ideal, and it knows this, because everyone has their own account. You can lock her out of certain rooms, if she’s not allowed access, and can lock your car and/or garage down, so she can’t take your new Starburst out for a spin. All of this is controlled by a single application on your phone. Sounds nice, right? Though a great number of people came together to make this a reality, one special individual, with the ability to see the future, spearheaded the project. Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome to the stage Manus Burke’s personal assistant, Lynne Wallace.

Microstory 389: Acknowledgement

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Station

As I’ve said about a million times here, I have autism. I honestly didn’t know if I was going to mention it here. Actually, no, the thought didn’t even cross my mind. I had no intention of bringing myself into this site except in the usual “write what you know” kind of thing. I was diagnosed as an adult, but even before I knew, I knew. In fact, I can go back to a journal entry I wrote in either middle school or very early high school where I admit this to myself. Basically the deal with autism is that, whatever other kind of psychological problems you have going on, they’ll really just be part of that. Because autism is not a disease. It’s an array of conditions found, to a certain degree, in a quantifiable fraction of the population. Ultimately, I have a neuroatypical brain, and you have a neurotypical brain, but they’re both just human brains. This is the way I am, it’s integral to my identity, and though I do want to become a better person, I don’t want to get rid of it. That would be lobotomy, and no one wants that. Before I understood all this about myself, and even since then, I’ve been “the quiet one”. Those who don’t know me can be confused by this. People have actually been pissed off that I don’t engage them in a stupid goddamn conversation about the meaning of the temperature today being one degree different than yesterday. Man, stop talking about the weather. I really need you to let it go. Anyway, here’s the kicker. Those who do know me know that I prefer to be quiet, so they let that happen. They go about their conversations and leave me out of it, because I usually don’t want to contribute. But sometimes I do, and how am I supposed to get their attention? This is a very literal example of what I’m saying here, and I can confirm and not deny that I told this story so I could stretch out the next few entries. The first step to being an accepted and respected member of a group or society is acknowledgement. People have to first realize you’re even there, and only then can you possibly get them to hear what you have to say.

Attention

Microstory 321: Geographic Stability Part II

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Geographic Stability Part I

I decided to break this step into two parts, because the subject is important, and can’t be addressed within only 320 words. Climate change is not something I’m well versed in. When I was in eighth grade, I found myself failing science class, which was a big blow because I had intended to become a scientist. In truth, I didn’t do all that well in school in general. I do, however, conduct constant self-driven research. I like to look into things, trying to make sense of the world around me. I’ve always had an interest in knowing a little bit about most everything, but never becoming an expert on any one thing. So even though I can’t say exactly what’s causing climate change, or what we can do to stop it, I know it’s real. I know that no self-respecting scientist denies that things are getting worse. The only question they have is to what degree it’s happening, and how much humans are contributing to these problems. I want to make sure you understand that seeking Geographic Stability for the purpose of being happy does not mean that a perfect place to live even exists. Also in eighth grade, I knew a classmate who wasn’t worried about the ice caps melting “because they [were] so far away”. He was too stupid to get the fact that liquids always move towards surface equilibrium. And though I think climate change deniers are smart enough to get this particular thing, there’s this attitude that it’s something people in developed nations don’t have to worry about. But nowhere on Earth is safe. Everyone is in danger of ecological disaster, due to more complex causality chains than simple water displacement. Even if you think you’re too old for it to matter, you’re not; it’s happening literally right now. There are things you can do to help, though, namely by voting for candidates who recognize the truth.

Nutrition

Microstory 320: Geographic Stability Part I

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Safety from Chaos

As I was nearing the end of my tenure as a high school student, a few things were made clear. One of those things was that I wasn’t ready for college. Another was that I didn’t have the sufficient skills or experience to enter the workforce either. My parents suggested I look into major volunteer work. I’m talking full committment; move to a new state, or even country. I ended up volunteering on a farm in California. It was supposed to be for six months, but only lasted two, so I needed to find something else. As it would happen, not long after I returned home, Hurrican Katrina hit the Gulf Coast. I went to the Red Cross to earn the necessary certifications that following Thursday, went back on Friday for travel plans, and left on Saturday. I saw a lot of damage at my ultimate location in Slidell, Louisiana. I saw more when I returned for a second stint in Florida later that year. So many people lost their homes, their belongings, their lives, and their loved ones. Katrina wasn’t the first natural disaster, it hasn’t been the last since, and the worst is yet to come. Climate change is ravaging our world, and though there are things we can do to protect ourselves, we won’t be able to do enough. By the 2050s, the global temperature will rise so high, we’ll start to experience superstorms the likes of which we’ve never seen before. A great number of coastal towns will be completely underwater, and will probably have been abandoned by then due to earlier frequent flooding. Everyone has the right to live in a location that is geographically stable. We need to find ways to fix our environmental issues, but right now, if you live close enough to the ocean, I can’t recommend you not make plans to move inland. You may not find happiness if you don’t.

Geographic Stability Part II

Microstory 308: Fire

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Shelter

The first time our ancestors saw fire was the first time they looked to the sky during the day. There is a bunch of science going on that makes fire burn. But at the core of it, all heat is the same thing; excited atoms and molecules moving around so fast that energy is released. The faster these atoms move, the more energy they release, and if you excite them enough, fire will be created. This is why friction can assist in the creation of fire. You don’t need some kind of liquid fuel; you don’t need matches; you don’t even need flint and steel. If you want to build a fire, you’re going to need something that’s really good at burning, and then apply intense friction to it. Wood is a good option because it’s rather abundant, and even though it requires a lot of effort, it doesn’t require much knowledge. Fire is one of the most useful elements in existence. It cooks food, which burns off possible pathogens, releases certain otherwise unrealized nutrients, and makes meals taste better. We have yet to encounter evidence of a civilization that did not cook food. Fire also produces warmth, and discourages dangerous animals. Modern humans have innovated further with fire and combustion to make their lives more efficient and convenient. Experts have uncovered evidence, however, that primates first controlled fire nearly two million years ago. This means that one of the first things we did after deciding to stand upright was to recreate the sun and forest fires towards our own end. Fire is not only a personal need, but a cultural one. It was an early step in the advancement of the human race; an undeniable sign of intelligence. If you ever meet an alien, the first thing you should do is demonstrate your basic comprehension of fire.

Instinct

Microstory 307: Shelter

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Clothing for Protection

It is said that you can survive three minutes without air, three hours without shelter, three days without water, and three weeks without food. Now, remember that each progressive step operates under the assumption that you have all steps before it taken care of. Today, I’m going to talk to you about the second one. Three hours without shelter doesn’t mean that you can’t survive being outside without dying. This is referring only to being in a rough environment, such as the forest in the dead of winter, or the middle of a desert. This is also not so much a rule as it’s a sliding scale and a guideline that adjusts from person to person, and is designed to illustrate the relationship between these vital needs. There are many kinds of shelters, the most obvious being houses and other permanent dwellings. But to qualify as a shelter, a structure need only be large enough to fit at least one person, and have room for them to move around without altering the structure (e.g. not clothing). Different cultures at different time periods develop different kinds of homes. At the dawn of man, we were still living inside naturally occurring structures like caves. As time marches on, humankind is designing and developing ever more sophisticated architecture, ranging from enormous skyscrapers to deep underground bunkers. The key is to get out of the elements and to keep out unwanted guests like insects and potentially dangerous strangers. Not everyone in the world has access to shelter. Some live in community shelters, but are still considered homeless, because these places do not belong to them. Those worse off will sleep outside, with little to no protection. They even sometimes have limited protective clothing. Having a place to call home is a basic human right. We really are all in this together.

Fire

Microstory 306: Clothing for Protection

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Food for Survival

The concept of wearing textiles over the body in the form of clothing is so old, that we don’t even know how old it is. Experts believe it to be possible that our nonhuman primate ancestors were the first to wear clothes some tens, or even hundreds, of thousands of years ago. Because this would have happened long before reliable record-keeping methods, scientists came to this number by studying the evolutionary variation between body lice and head lice. It’s fascinating that they thought to do something like that to understand something like this. The fashion industry is big business, but clothing is important, regardless of how it looks. Clothing was created to protect people from cold temperatures, and even from the heat, because the sun’s rays can damage the skin. There are other environmental concerns to consider, like toxic or physically dangerous plants, as well as insects. Back before more sophisticated means of making garments, people wore animal furs. This has since become controversial because it is unnecessary to kill an animal only to wear its coat. For some reason, there is not as much outcry when it comes to wearing leather, but it does still happen. Most modern fabrics, however, are made from materials that do not require harming animals, like cotton, wool, and synthetic fibers. If you live in the developed world, you may take clothing for granted. But there are plenty of people—even in your backyard—who cannot afford, or do not have access to, clothing. When you have a minute, take some time to go through your closet and dresser to see if you have any clothes that you no longer wear. These can easily be donated so that others can have the clothes they need to feel safe and comfortable. Clothing is not just for literal protection; it serves a psychological need.

Shelter

Microstory 304: Potable Water

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Rain

There isn’t really anything to water, except for the water itself. If you ever drink plain water that has something else in it, it’s probably not supposed to be there. In certain parts of the developed world, the water you drink is treated with chemicals to kill off microorganisms that could harm your body. Many places also add fluorine compounds to clean your teeth. But other than that, it’s just water. So what’s the point of it? Why do we need it? Well, all living organisms evolve to utilize water in some way that promotes the survival of individuals, and the species as a whole. First and foremost, water is a distributor. It passes nutrients between cells so they can thrive, divide, and replicate. A great deal of blood is composed of water, which moves oxygen-carrying iron throughout the body. This oxygen generates energy, which allows the body to keep going. Water is a lubricant that keeps joints, the brain, and other organs from desiccating and dying. Water is used for temperature regulation, allowing heat to be released from the body via evaporation on the skin. Just like a computer, if you overheat, you’ll die, because your body functions won’t be able to keep up with themselves. Lastly, water creates fluids that allow waste products to leave the system. Organs like the kidneys and liver, process waste and toxins, but that’s useless if there’s no way for them to get rid of unwanted substances. Much of the developing world lacks potable water. If it exists, some have to walk for miles before finding it, and even then drinkable is a relative term. If you have access to clean and healthy water, and have the means, please research ways you can help a fellow living organism find water. It’s literally the most important thing ever.

Food for Survival

Microstory 301: Atmosphere

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There is no lack of planets in this universe. Why, in this galaxy alone, there are hundreds of billions of stars, with an average of between one and two planets each. Ten billion of these are supposed to be terrestrial, rather than gaseous like Jupiter. Out of these, not all would be composed of an atmosphere comparable to Earth’s. There are probably only about 500 million of those. But that doesn’t mean there should be 500 million kinds of aliens spinning around out there. Even though these planets are capable of sustaining life, they’re not necessarily capable of sustaining evolutionary life. You wouldn’t believe just how many things had to go right on this planet in order to make you a thing that exists. Humans have yet to quantify the unlikely circumstances. Temperature, gravity, pressure, gaseous composition, distance from the sun, solar size, and many more things had to line up perfectly to create life intelligent enough to write a list like that. There’s this argument called the Fermi Paradox which wonders why we’ve not encountered aliens, because there should be a lot of them. But that’s not a paradox. It’s a question. Just because you don’t know the answer to something, doesn’t mean there isn’t one. There are any number of explanations for why we feel so alone. And it all starts with our atmosphere. It has the perfect amount of oxygen to keep us breathing, and to stop insects from being terrifyingly gigantic. The way the wind moves determined the shape of this rock, and regulates our climate. The gaseous composition is vital to our survival. Change the ratios even by a little, and it spells disaster, which is actually what we’re going through right now. Next time you go outside, thank the atmosphere for keeping everything in place.

Ground