Microstory 2780: Nothing Will Stop Her From Leaving Him

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At the moment, the two most popular planets in the galaxy are Varkas Reflex and Castlebourne. The former handles virtual simulations very well while the latter is the only place with extensive and comprehensive base reality sims. Earth is special because it’s the seed of civilization, but its population is still decreasing. Some are leaving because they want what those other worlds have, others because they want to return Earth to the wild. Incidentally, Gatewood is technically popular too, but only as a pitstop for other colonies. Most other colonies are niche or family-owned; not central hubs.

That leaves Thālith al Naʽāmāt Bida. It is the only other Core World which naturally supports complex life. A human can survive on the surface in the open air with minimal bioengineering. A baseline human can survive with the right life support tech. That used to be a huge draw, but other breathable worlds have since been found, and it’s just not that important anymore. Life under a large enough dome is indistinguishable from a genuine sky. Virtual constructs are perfect, and can be programmed with any environment imaginable. Bida, despite its recent gravity problems, simply isn’t that special anymore. And those gravity problems are pushing it over the edge.

Everyone is leaving, including possibly Jande’s sister, Laise. She is missing, and it’s highly unlikely that something went wrong with her consciousness transmission. Bida may be known for its minimal use of tech, but they’re not backwards like Proxima Doma. They’re efficient, and death is an inefficient use of thought. That was engraved on the arch over the entrance to the Welcome Center below the primary space elevator, and above the door to the central substrate inventorium. Laise should be back by now.

In the weeks following the destruction of Eyrenland, the community has suffered from all sides. The whole planet has been wrecked. The people survived, but many are choosing not to rebuild their lives here. They’re going to those other places to live out their dreams. Some may end up doing exactly what they were doing before the cataclysm, just elsewhere. Thālith al Naʽāmāt Bida is dying. It started quick, but it’s gonna end slow. Their way of life is being threatened by something that was entirely out of their control, and their own laws. Even Jande’s wives can’t take it anymore.

“Evers, please. Don’t leave,” Jande begs. “We’re building a life together.”

“This world is no longer safe,” Evers argues. “The black holes are still opening up all over the star system. I don’t want to be here when the next one shows up. What if it’s in the core of the planet? What if it’s in our backyard?”

“There’s a fancy ship up there,” Jande reminds her. “The Axiom of Astronomy is on it. The galaxy’s top scientists have cast themselves here to figure this out.” He sighs. “They’re gonna figure it out. The farm needs you, more than ever. I need you.”

“I’m not going to ask you to leave with me. I know that you have to stay, especially since your father...” She trails off just so she doesn’t have to finish the sentence. “You have your ways, and I thought I knew what I was getting myself into when I joined this community and married you. But I didn’t sign up for this.”

“There are ways around this,” he insists. “We can get a long-range backup relay. If your body dies, you can be on the other side of the solar system in seconds, clear of any black hole that may or may not open up here. This doesn’t have to be the end.”

Now Evers is the one to sigh. “And what if that deep space backup is destroyed too? I’m not going to risk it. This is an unprecedented threat.”

“Please, just give it another few days. They’re gonna announce something—”

“What are the divorce procedures?” Evers interrupts.

Jande doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t want to answer that question.

“Come on, I know they’re different when the marriage ends entirely, instead of remaining partially intact after only one leaves, so I can’t just utter the dissolution line, like Suki. You either come with me, or it’s over. What do I have to do to divorce you?”

Jande shakes his head. “You’re the one ending the marriage, and I’m the victim. You have to cut down a tree with an axe, and I have to cut one down with a knife.”

Evers stares at her still-husband for a minute. “Is that even possible?”

“Eventually, yes. It will take time out of my extremely busy life, but you can begin leaving before that. It will take hours, if not a day, for you to finish your own tree, get to the elevator, ride it up, and fly off. I promise to be done by then. The tree isn’t gigantic.”

“The trees we planted on our wedding day. We have to cut those ones down?”

“They symbolize our union, so yes,” Jande confirms.

“So older couples have a harder divorce. What if one of the trees is already dead?”

“Well, ours are still alive, and you’re leaving the culture completely, so what does it fucking matter?” Okay, he has shifted his emotions away from sadness now.

“I want to understand what’s happening to us, and I have the right to. I won’t push it, but I do want to know, what of Suki’s tree?” Evers questions.

“I have to take it down at some point, when I have time,” Jande explains. “It doesn’t have to be ceremonial or grueling, though. I can use a laser saw, or whatever.”

Evers frowns at him. “I was hoping to cast my mind to Varkas Reflex. I mean, if I’m gonna become incorporeal anyway, I might as well travel there without this body—”

“Goddammit!” Jande pushes past Evers and walks around to the back of the house. He pulls out his sheath knife and starts to slice against the trunk of his tree, at the narrowest section he can find, grateful that it doesn’t have to be at a particular height. He’s already making good progress, fueled by his adrenaline.

Evers walks up next to him. “I never wanted it to end like this.”

“But you wanted it to end,” Jande points out. “Good, that’s great. I’m so happy for you, you’re finally getting the life you wanted. I’m so sorry that I trapped you on the most beautiful planet in the universe. You must have been miserable.”

“I was never miserable,” Evers begins. “I’m just scared. I don’t think you see how dangerous this has become. Our ancestors prepared for everything—everything!—when they started to explore outer space, but they never thought of this. I know you think what you’re doing is important, but it’s not worth your life. It’s not worth mine, and there was a time when you would have agreed with me. Just...think about it.”

Jande stops working for a second to catch his breath. He looks over at her. “I don’t have time to cut down my tree and help you find the axe in the rubble that was our shed. You better go look for it so you can finish this quick enough to cast away in time to catch that sweet VR wave, dude. Hang ten.” He goes back to cutting.

He can see her nod quietly before she walks off.

She is so inexperienced with the axe, he almost finishes his tree before she finishes hers. They don’t say another word to each other for the rest of time. She takes a shuttle to the temporary Welcome Center tent, and leaves him forever.

Microstory 2777: Fewer Deaths Than It Looks

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There’s a knock at the door. Elty Fenstermacher opens it quickly. “Come in, come on, hurry,” he urges. He tugs his friend inside, then looks around to see if anyone is watching. They are. He has to smile and wave at a small group of people gardening against their own abode. The battle may be over, but the war has only begun, and he doesn’t know who he can trust anymore. This is a test...a test of his resolve.

“What did you want to show me, Elty?” Streamer asks. Elty can’t remember what his real name is anymore. Everyone calls him that because he’s the only one in the group who has a digitized brain. He never needed to escape with them. He shouldn’t be a part of the rebellion. But he is, and Elty respects the hell out of him for it.

Elty steps over to the other side of his little lab, and presents the chamber.

“What is it?” Streamer asks him. “A time machine? Please don’t tell me—”

Elty rolls his eyes. “It’s not a time machine. It’s an equilibrium chamber. This is what they use on Varkas Reflex to keep their users in spatial stasis.”

“I don’t understand,” Streamer says. “I went to VR, I never saw this.”

“Well, this is a modified design, and they’ve not always had equilibrium drives,” Elty explains. “When you’re in this, you’re basically floating. Every single square millimeter of your body experiences an equal amount of pressure. They use it because some log in to VR for years at a time, and that comes with health problems.”

“What are you trying to tell me, that you digitized yourself?” Streamer questions.

Elty shakes his head. “I don’t care about VR. I don’t even really care about equilibrium.” He bends down and switches it on. As the power starts running through, he smiles and looks back up at Streamer. “You hear that? You feel it? If you disable the privacy field regulator, the equilibrium stays in the chamber, but the signal jammer escapes. If we install one of these things in every house, the Teaguardians and Bidans can’t spy on us. Nor can anyone else, for that matter. It’s there so users can have private virtual sessions without worrying about someone sneaking in and finding out what they’re doing. We’re gonna use it to live in peace, which is all we’ve ever wanted. I’m not happy that we have to settle for Bida, so if we’re here, let’s make it our own.”

“Hm. That’s interesting,” Streamer notes, but he doesn’t sound enthusiastic.

“I thought you would be more excited,” Elty says. “You’re the one who taught us how to hide our location on Doma Tertia. I just upped our game.”

“Yeah, and I appreciate that,” Streamer agrees. “I just...the Teaguardians agreed to leave us alone. What that Delgado chick did for us in Gatewood was her responsibility, and we’re not at fault for that. We have a good thing here, Elty. I don’t want us to risk that. I’ve kind of given up my anger. Our home was destroyed, and honestly, people have bent over backwards to find a new one for us. This is that, man. Just be happy. Or are you mad because Shimizu left us, which places you in charge, but we don’t need a rebel leader anymore, because we’re not rebels anymore?”

“Don’t make me out to be so petty. I’m just trying to help,” Elty contends. “Something is happening in the sky that they’re not telling us. I’m still trying to figure out what it is, but in the meantime, I’m gonna do what I must to protect us, and our way of life. These people aren’t our heroes. They’re assholes, like everyone else.”

Streamer sighs, and jerks his chin towards the window. “You see those people out there? They still need leadership. Are you gonna step up, and help them settle down once and for all, or are you gonna hole up in here, and tinker with your machines?”

Elty looks through the window. The gardeners are still out there. They’re so bloody happy, it makes him sick. This is not what they wanted. They wanted a planet to call their own. They could have come to Thālith al Naʽāmāt Bida right after Proxima Doma fell apart, but they choose to go for something greater. Now they’ve all given up.

As he’s watching them toil away, totally content, they suddenly disappear.

“Whoa,” Streamer exclaims. “Did you see that?”

“Yes,” Elty replies. “It’s happening.” He rushes into the equilibrium chamber. Pushing himself down so there’s enough room for the both of them. “Get in here.”

“Why would I do that?” Streamer questions. “It looks uncomfortable.”

“It is,” Elty yells, “but it’s better than the alternative! Now get in!”

Streamer shakes his head, and misses his chance. The ground shakes. The roof flies off the house and soars into the sky, taking Streamer up with it. The whole house follows suit. All around, Elty can see everything fly away from him as if gravity somehow got turned on its head.

“No!” Elty screams, but it’s futile. In seconds, he’s completely alone on his back. Not a building, not a tree, not another person in sight. Only sky and dirt.

Elty lies there in his pod, scared as all hell to stand up. Not only does he not know what will happen to him if he does, but he doesn’t want to see what has become of his new home. He takes a few deep breaths, however, and decides to muster the courage. He’s not going to be afraid. He’s supposed to be a leader. He stands up and looks around at the devastation. It’s gone. Everything is gone. He can’t even take one step forward, or he’ll die. He survived the impossible, but he was the only one. Someone is going to answer for this. Someone is going to pay. It was probably the Teaguardians again.

Below him is nothing by lava. His equilibrium chamber is floating just above it. It’s getting so freaking hot here. He’s having trouble breathing. The noxious gases are just too much. Wait, this is a life support vessel. It has a self-contained breathing apparatus. He brushes his hand along the sides, looking for the access panel, finding it at the head. He takes out the mask and wraps it over his face.

Now Elty can breathe again, but it doesn’t fix the heat. He reaches over to close the door, but then he remembers that he removed it. He didn’t need the door itself gone, but it was in the way of him modifying the machine to expand the scope of the signal jammer. Shit. Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit. He’s gonna die. Is there some kind of communication system? He gets on his knees and rifles through the emergency panel, but there’s nothing. Because of course there’s nothing. He synthesized the parts from the original specs, and the original specs expect you to install it in a room full of these things, where communication is handled in network. It doesn’t need its own transmitter.

The crater was a massive tragedy for the planet of Thālith al Naʽāmāt Bida, but not in terms of lives. One was presumed dead after a headcount proved he missed the emergency teleportation. The second was initially presumed the same, but he was discovered later after the quarantine was lifted a month later. The autopsy showed that he roasted alone on a hovering equilibrium chamber over the lava.

The Advancement of Mateo Matic: September 29, 2573

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Olimpia was back on Earth and back in Sri Lanka. With all the confusing time travel, she couldn’t remember how long it had been, but the last time she was home was centuries ago. When she was a child, she developed her echo affliction. Everything she said was copied and sent fractions of a second into the future. She couldn’t stop it. Her family was bewildered and scared. They had no context for it. Their best guess was that she had two sets of vocal cords, or that they could somehow vibrate two different sounds at the same time. They didn’t know, but the doctors did. They knew that she was a perfectly normal human, biologically speaking. There was no explanation for her voice.

Her parents didn’t demand that she stop speaking, but they definitely encouraged it. They learned and taught her sign language, and actively used that to communicate with her. Again, they didn’t force her to keep quiet, but whenever she asked a question, if she didn’t use her hands, they still would in response. She became self-conscious about it to the point where she eventually gave up and gave in. She became a full-time signer. She wasn’t fully mute, but she didn’t want to make people feel uncomfortable.

She was an excellent student, and probably could have gone on to a higher education institution. She maybe could have become as smart as Leona, or even Ramses, but she chose not to. When she was sixteen years old, she emancipated herself through the courts, left home, and left the country. Her parents didn’t beg her to stay, but they weren’t happy for her either. They just...basically said, “okay” and that was the last time she saw them. She lived alone for years as she wandered the world.

By then, national borders had become more of logistical zones for administrative maintenance rather than divisions. If you lived in Ethiopia, it was probably because that was where your progenitors lived, and there was no reason to leave, because there were no fewer opportunities there than anywhere else. People stopped moving and traveling for the most part, because if they wanted to join a community on the other side of the world, they could do it through telepresence or VR. Olimpia only kept moving around because her upbringing turned her into a loner. She could have been happy in a simulated world, where her echoism couldn’t follow. But she had to get away from Sri Lanka, and once she did that, nowhere else felt like home either, so she kept going.

Sri Lanka was empty now. According to the data, only a few thousand people still lived here, in its one remaining arcological megastructure tower. It would be so unlikely that anyone in her family was still around. She would have to find them elsewhere, if they were still alive. They weren’t even necessarily on Earth. The global population had been dwindling for decades. Everyone was apparently moving to Castlebourne and Varkas Reflex. Even so, it was the right move, coming back. It was at least cathartic.

A man walked up from behind her. “She doesn’t know how she’s meant to feel about it. On the one hand, it’s clearly sad. It’s the end of an era, and it won’t be the last one. It is a pretty big one, though. Humans have always been on Earth. The idea that it may one day just be empty again is pretty surreal. But also beautiful and poetic. A safe haven for wildlife. It’s fitting, it should end like this. The planet is closing its loop.”

“I’m sorry, but I don’t know you. If you could stop reading my mind, that would be great,” Olimpia requested. She didn’t want to be rude, but she was annoyed and nervous.

The man smiled and nodded. “The man smiled and nodded. He wasn’t really reading her mind. It was more like he was channeling her thoughts. He couldn’t help himself. It was his curse, just as Olimpia’s curse was to echo. She had somehow been cured, though, and her brother, Delfinus, was extremely interested in learning how.”

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The Advancement of Mateo Matic: September 26, 2570

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Everyone was depressed after Romana was locked up. How had things spiraled so quickly, how did they miss the signs, and how were they going to get through this? Romana was comfortable in the VIP holding block, but she couldn’t leave, and keeping her there was only making her angrier. They would have to let her out eventually, but no one knew when. The elephant in the room was whether they would ever forgive her, and whether she would apologize for her own actions. It was complicated, because while many of her choices were clearly wrong—forcing them to go on missions against their will, and misappropriating dangerous equipment—was the end result wrong? Did she not deserve to be happy? More importantly, did Boyd 3.0 not deserve to live?

“Lock me up forever,” Boyd suggested when Mateo had no more options but to ask him for his own opinion on all this. No one else knew of a solution.

“We can’t. You’ve not broken any laws, and it’s not sustainable,” Mateo argued.

“I don’t have to have broken laws,” Boyd reasoned. “You’re thinking very much like a 21st century boy. Legal quarantine doesn’t always happen as punishment for something you’ve already done. Unlike in your time, it is entirely plausible that a dangerous entity’s first criminal act is genocide. Humans need time and experience to escalate their behavior. A rogue intelligence might skip right to complete annihilation, if only due to a missing proverbial semicolon in their code.

“Don’t get me wrong, you’re not living in a dystopia. They don’t just throw people in jail left, right, and center. You have to prove that they’re a danger to life and peace, but that proof doesn’t have to come from an irreversible past tragedy anymore. I’m too much of a wildcard. I must be dealt with.”

“It’s big of you to be saying all this,” Mateo admitted.

“Again, you’re thinking of a human. I’m not asking to die. I will live as long as you, if not longer. Virtual quarantine is considered the most humane response to an existential threat. Once the longevity escape velocity progressed into virtual immortality, life sentences became nearly entirely meaningless. What if the individual requires persistent longevity treatments? Are they entitled to those? Or is it better to let them die, rather than torturing them with an eternity of imprisonment? What if they were constructed out of code from minute one? Is it possible to kill them, or is it no different than deleting a blurry photo from your camera roll? What if they want to die?

“The legal system decided that the nuance was too much to bear, so they came up with the best singular answer for extreme cases. You keep them in an airgapped environment, where they’re free to do whatever they want, even if it’s destructive, because they can’t actually gain access to base reality, or other virtual worlds.”

“They stay there forever?” Mateo questioned. “Many law-abiding citizens live like that already. Most crabitat owners don’t ever visit networked simulations.”

Boyd nodded. “Yes, that’s why it’s humane, because it’s not about punishment. It’s about removing them from where they can do harm to anyone but an NPC.”

“It sounds like there’s no rehabilitation in this method. Is that an option?”

Boyd’s face dropped a little. “Not really. Hyperintelligences are more difficult to trust than baseline humans, believe it or not. Of course people like you are capable of deception, it happens all the time. That’s why recidivism is a legal term. But over time, you can learn to trust in a human’s future actions by their past and current ones. Something made of code, regardless of their origin, might end up with a bad over-the-air update which causes them to snap one day. And it will be completely unpredictable.”

“This is all sounding pretty dystopian to me,” Mateo pointed out.

“Some see it that way,” Boyd acknowledged. “There are alternatives but they take effort. A current proposal is that you can use a separate intelligence to audit every single character in a rogue intelligence’s code to track aberrations. This governor intelligence would keep an eye on them as they receive updates, upgrades, and interact with other code. But that comes with its own philosophical questions. What if the governor itself breaks? What if its charge actually corrupts its governor. Their systems have to interact, after all. And is it morally right to scrutinize independent beings like this? What does that mean for privacy? Is this not simply prison in a different form factor?”

Mateo frowned. “I didn’t realize how complex the universe was now. Everything people have been saying is that it’s more simple. You don’t have competing machines that do the same thing because information is shared and distributed, so everyone has the best model. But there’s all this underlying structure that I didn’t realize.”

Boyd nodded in agreement. “Possibilities are now endless, both good and bad. You have to do this. And you can’t have Ramses construct his own quarantine. It obviously failed when he tried that before. We need institutional insulation, and that can only be found in one place. Well, it’s only other planets, but these guys do it the best.”

“Where would that be?” Mateo asked.

“The virtual reality capital of the galaxy,” Boyd answered, “Varkas Reflex.”

“Makes sense. It’s a big rock. There could be an entire continent dedicated to it.”

Boyd chuckled. “It’s not quite that big. For the most part, crime isn’t much of a thing anymore. If it is, it’s generally beyond the stellar neighborhood, and they have their own laws. We don’t wanna be in the wild west. We want redundancies.”

“I’ll call a meeting,” Mateo decided with a heavy sigh.

“No, you have to do this on your own,” Boyd insists. “No one can know until after it’s done. Romana will forgive you...eventually. Not everyone is that safe.”

“I can’t go on my own. I mean, I could, but then I couldn’t come back.”

“There are ways,” Boyd says. “I won’t tell you, but I know you can figure it out. This won’t be the first time you have had to separate yourself from your family.”

Mateo didn’t use the base’s slingdrive to sling himself and Boyd to Varkas Reflex, but he did use its power. That way, there would be no trace of where he went, and no one could follow. As soon as he showed up, he dropped his name to the first workerbot he saw, who fed it up the pipeline where an old friend of Leona’s heard it. She came right away. She wasn’t in charge of the virtual quarantine sector specifically, but she had plenty of pull around here. She said she trusted Mateo’s judgment, and fast-tracked the process because knew that they would otherwise have to wait for an entire year.

Boyd was now leaning back in his upload chair, appearing calm and stoic. He didn’t look mad or vengeful, which was what Mateo was most worried about coming into this. He wasn’t sure he agreed with this form of imprisonment. It always left the door open for a return, not that the alternative was morally or ethically superior. Maybe it was a trick, though. Maybe Boyd set all this up because he knew of some way to escape it. Maybe Mateo was a fool by unilaterally deciding what would become of him. He chose to place his trust in someone he hadn’t always liked.

The upload was complete, the body was destroyed, and Mateo left. Without a slingdrive array to latch onto, there was no way back to Ramosus. He accepted a reframe ship which Loa lent him, and began the journey back to Earth.

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Microstory 2752: Foul Trouble

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Zelda and Jolanda both do a lot of exhilarating activities. Framed one way, they sit on opposing sides of the spectrum. Zelda likes to lose control. It is absolutely possible to be bad at an extreme sport, but once you learn how to do it, a lot of it involves letting go, and allowing the forces of nature take over. Gravity is a big one for them. Jolanda’s thing is all about taking control. When she’s inside of the car—or when she literally is the car—she makes every decision about where it goes, and what it does. For both of them, the work is very tough and strenuous, and they’re all sports, but a certain kind of sport. What they’re doing right now is exploring one of the other kinds.

“Fellow treasure hunters, please allow me to be the first to welcome you all to...Sportsdome,” Rage says dramatically. It’s a surprisingly unpopular dome. That might be a harsh word to use. It’s not as popular as it would be if you picked the whole 83-kilometer diameter dome off of Castlebourne, flew it to Earth, and dropped it somewhere. The problem with this dome is it’s simply a collection of all sports fields of play. There’s nothing innovative about it except the fact that it’s all consolidated. You can get each one of these games anywhere, and for much cheaper than the energy credits it takes to travel to this world. Basically, if sports are your thing, you’re probably better off staying put wherever you already live. Castlebourne is for niche experiences.

“I played one of the ancient games once,” Colley says. I think it was called bolleyball. And I think I only played it because it rhymed with my name.”

“You’re thinking of volleyball,” Jolanda corrects. “I’ve played a ton of these, but only in VR. A lot of people hate that because it isn’t pure, but if you have a halfway decent physics engine and synaptic integration, there’s really no difference these days.”

“What are we doing here?” Zelda asks. She sounds and looks bored.

“Zel, I would have thought you loved this stuff,” Elise points out.

“There are too many rules,” Zelda complains. “I don’t like rules. I mean, back when dying once meant dying forever, I understood the rules for safety. And I even understand them today for the purposes of continuity, pain aversion, and convenience, but these little sports have such arbitrary rules. They’re all, like, you can’t bounce that with two hands, or, it’s gotta bounce once and inside of these white lines. A lot of the rules have to do with bouncing and dropping. I just don’t find it exciting.”

“We’re not here to be excited,” Rage clarifies. “We’re here to learn the mechanics of gameplay. Some of you use your minds, some of you use your bodies. Traditional sports marry the two. Those rules you hate, Zelda, are part of that. You have to remember where the ball goes and how to get it there. You have to see the obstacles in real time, and find a way around them. Half the audience is cheering you on, half of them wanna see you fail. None of you has done activity on behalf of someone else. Even I, who has usually been part of a team, sees an escape room as a private accomplishment. I share the joy of accomplishment with my team, but my mind leans on what I personally got out of it. Sports athletes can’t think like that. Their sole job is to serve the team, even if that means sitting on the bench during a play and encouraging their teammates. That’s why I signed us up for the Total Lifestyle Experience.”

“What’s the total lifestyle experience?” Elise asks as Rage is walking off. She and the others rush to catch up. “Hey, what’s the total lifestyle experience?” she repeats.

An hour later, the six of them are standing on the grass field. They expected a big fancy arena, but this place looks like it’s been neglected. They’re wearing the same uniform, which is a shirt, short shorts, tall socks, and spiky black shoes. There’s another team of six people here, Combined, they’re standing in a triangle shape, using the wall as a third side. At the top point is a scraggly white-haired man. His shorts are even shorter, and he has a whistle. It’s impossible to not notice his whistle.

He’s been whistling this whole time, apparently communicating with the bots who are running around the field, moving equipment around. Now he finally turns to sneer at the players. “So you think you’re good enough for league football, do ya?” he asks in an English accent. “You’re the sorriest lookin’ excuses for players I ever saw this side of the meridian!” He looks at one of the other team’s members. “Your shirt is on backwards, ya wanka! What’s the matter, ya never worn clothes before?”

The youngish-looking girl tries to pull her elbow in to turn the shirt around, but is too embarrassed to keep going, so she ends up pulling it off all the way.

The boss guy, whatever his job is, shakes his head. “Girls in the league. What are we gonna have to let in next? Billy goats!? I long for the days when men were men!”

One of the other women on the other team begins to walk away.

“See, that’s my point. Women can’t handle the stress of being in a real club. What’s your problem, young lady? That time of the month?” He laughs and slaps Minotaur’s shoulder because they’re standing the closest, expecting them to agree.

“I have a vagina too,” Minotaur snaps back, shutting him up.

The blonde woman comes back with a football. Without saying a word, she tosses it towards the girl who was wearing her shirt backwards. The girl does a backflip, kicking the football behind her. As she lands on her feet, the ball ends up square in the goal, which is halfway down the field. “Any questions?” the blonde asks.

Somehow, the old man shuts up even harder. He does eventually have to continue, though. “I have to go make sure there’s no scheduling conflict with the pitch. In the meantime, you can either run drills or talk about your fee-fees.” He walks off.

The blonde from the other team, who appears to be in charge, smirks at the hunters. “We’ve got you on toast. Who do you even play for? I earn your life in a week.”

“Did you have to look up football slang, or does being an arsehole come naturally to you?” Rage volleys.

“Rage, what are you doing?” Elise questions. “What’s happening here?”

“I told you,” Rage begins. “I signed us up for the total experience. We’re a ragtag group of eclectic misfit underdogs. They’re the jerk pros who everyone knows is gonna win the big game until the last second when the shyest and least confident player on our team uses a random, seemingly unrelated, skill from their life for a complete upset.”

The treasure hunters stare at Rage, still not quite understanding the point of it, but also not getting the point of playing football in the first place, so they might as well lean into it. Elise looks back over at the blonde boss. “Wankuh.”

The blonde laughs. “Not quite how you pronounce it, but I’ll take it. Before we play the big game,” she goes on with airquotes, “you should know that we’re after the same thing. There’s a deeper level to Treasure Hunting Dome. We’re gonna find it first.”

Rage looks extremely surprised and distressed. She clearly had no idea.

The blonde smirks again. “It’s nice to meet you. I’m Miracle. Miracle Brighton.”

The Advancement of Mateo Matic: September 24, 2568

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The technology that Leona used to boost Kayetan’s merging ability was the same she used to get him back home. That way, they didn’t have to make yet another sling there. Once he did return to Earth, though, he would not be able to return. They were many light years away, and he couldn’t usually travel that far. Of course, he was at hers and Mateo’s wedding, where he managed to merge people from all over the bulk, so how was he able to accomplish that? She forgot to ask. They’ve changed realities and timelines so many times since then, though, so he might not have even ever done that.

As it turned out, the fire that burned down the crops was a total accident. There was technically an arsonist, but it was part of nature. The team didn’t have much time to study it, but there was a special type of alien beetloid which could start fires by rubbing its legs on stones. It must infuse the right kind of metal into its diet, and spark a reaction through some kind of chemical that it also produced. It might do this to clean, or mark its territory, or maybe as part of a mating ritual. Some of the endemic plant life could handle it by dispensing a natural fire suppressant. It appeared to be a symbiotic relationship, actually. The beetles cleared the brush for whatever reason they had, and the fire-resistant plants got to keep all of the soil’s nutrients for themselves, against the burnable competitors. The grapes would obviously not survive over in their territory.

The solution? Plant the grapes on the other side of the river. This caused some uproar in the population, but they agreed to it, because it was the only answer that made any sense. And it would probably help in the long run. Since they now had no choice, this was where they were going to live. Everything Ramses’ computer was afraid of, with two factions growing apart from each other, was no longer an issue. Well, it could still happen, but it would not be because of grapes. They would survive this crucible at least.

When they finally reunited on Ramosus in 2568, they found themselves trapped in the in-house slingdrive. Romana was on the other side of the plasma barrier, holding her hands up defensively. “Now, I know that you’re mad, but don’t you feel fulfilled? You completed your tasks. That’s all we’ve been wanting, right? You’re not here to seek out new life and new civilizations. You’re volunteer fixers. I just gave you a little nudge. I know you didn’t want to do it like this, but I’m hoping you’ll forgive me one day, if not outright thank me. I just...I wanted you to stop worrying about me, and to move on.”

Mateo tried to push his hands through the plasma. It gave, but it didn’t break. “Why are we locked up in here? Did you think we were gonna hurt you?”

“No, I didn’t think my parents, aunts, and uncle were going to physically cause me harm, but I thought you would punish me. I wanted to see Boyd again, and you wouldn’t let me. I figured I would feed two birds with one worm. You six get the satisfaction of saving two colonies from themselves, and I get to spend time with the one person who is only for me. The barrier is just so I could gauge your reaction upon returning.”

Leona placed her hand on the barrier too, but to try to reach out to Romana, not to escape. “Our reaction is that we love you, and that the Boyd program is dangerous until Ramses makes sure it’s safe from the dark particle corruption. It was never permanent.”

“Well...” Romana seemed bashful now. “That wasn’t all I wanted to do with Boyd.”

“What did you want to do with him? Meet him in immersive VR?” Mateo pressed.

“No.” She opened her arm to present a young man who was walking into the lab. “Ladies and gentleman, may I present to you, Boyd Nieman...literally in the flesh.”

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The Advancement of Mateo Matic: September 20, 2564

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Time was weird in Romana’s simulation. Ramses and Leona worked the problem for the better part of three days before they were able to get Mateo and Boyd out of there. And they did get Boyd out of there too. They didn’t have a physical body for him to inhabit, since they didn’t know his wishes, but they moved his IDCode to a new server, and isolated him from Romana’s original system. They then ran a bunch of diagnostics on him, and medical tests on Mateo, to determine whether there were any lingering risks associated with them having been trapped in there.

Romana was devastated, but otherwise all right. Beyond her artificial implants, she wasn’t presenting any other signs or symptoms. She appeared to be physically and neurologically healthy. Still, Ramses extracted the implants, and flushed her of any dangerous foreign bodies. It was a relatively simple procedure, because it was one of the first things immersive VR researchers came up with, under the concern that something like this could happen. The only reason they didn’t do that earlier was because of her visitors. She was not saying much, save for apologizing profusely. It wasn’t her fault.

Mateo was pissed. Someone did this to her. It could not have simply happened incidentally. Glitches did happen, of course, but there was too much intent from the monsters. They were far too organized and driven. Of course, Mateo still didn’t know what they would have done if they had caught up to the humans, because they didn’t give them the chance, but they certainly weren’t trying to say hello, and they weren’t random. When he found whoever was responsible, they were gonna wish they had targeted someone else.

“That may not be what happened,” Leona said. “It may not have been an attack.”

“You didn’t see them,” Mateo argued. “They were absolutely relentless. Boyd and I literally had to keep running. Thank God I was able to shut off some of my bio-responses, or I would have grown too tired to make it.” He shook his head.

“The blobs,” Leona began. “Why did they chase after you at all? If they were a part of the system, why not simply materialize right in front of you. You didn’t actually run anywhere. You were only ones and zeros, as were the blobs themselves.”

“Exactly,” Mateo reasoned. “They weren’t a part of it. That’s how I know someone put them in there. It couldn’t have been your average file corruption, or whatever.”

“I have another hypothesis,” Ramses jumped in. “I think it could have been natural and unintentional. I think they were a part of her, but not the simulation.”

“What, like her antibodies, or her stress hormones?” Mateo questioned.

“Something like that,” Ramses went on. “Do you remember when Romana was abducted by the original Boyd? He placed her in a dark particle stasis field.”

“Yeah, it changed her,” Mateo said. “It made her just like him. That’s over now.”

“Perhaps not,” Ramses suggested. “I’m still detecting periodic neutrino collisions inside of her body, and in yours. It would be nothing to be worried about, it means your bodies can handle it. But it looks like her mind is being negatively impacted.”

“Well, she’s been dark particle-free for weeks, and nothing. What’s changed?”

Ramses frowned at Mateo sadly, but didn’t say anything. He looked nervous.

“Me,” Mateo surmised. “I visited her simulation. I have lingering dark particle-ness too.” He had to sit down. “I did this to her.”

“It’s not your fault either. It’s just nature,” Leona said comfortingly. “It could also be this star system. Different stars, different solar flux.”

“Fix this,” Mateo demanded. “Do whatever you have to do, even if it hurts.”

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The Advancement of Mateo Matic: September 19, 2563

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Monster might not have been the right word to use for them. They were amorphous blobs that shifted their shapes as they moved in unpredictable ways. They were mostly a navy blue, though hints of other colors randomly appear like twinkling stars. They had no faces and no limbs, but they were heading right for the trio. Mateo didn’t know if Romana and Boyd were as worried as he was, so he took his eyes off of the apparent attack to study their faces. They both looked just as surprised as they stood up from the picnic blanket, and tried to back away. This was evidently not normal.

There were more monsters behind them, coming from up the ridge, in the tree branches, and even from burrows in the ground. The landscape and foreground objects, like the picnic supplies, started flickering. The waterfall moved backwards, and then forwards at superspeed. It wasn’t just that there were monsters in this world. It was that the world itself was unstable. The simulation was clearly corrupted. They would have to take it out of Romana’s head. But first, they had to find a way out of it. Any amount of time could have passed in the real world for them. She was not in control anymore. Perhaps she never was.

“We have to get out of here,” Mateo pointed out as they were running through the one gap they found between the monsters. “You leave first, Romy. I’ll follow.”

“She can’t leave,” Boyd argued.

“I don’t know if you’re real or not,” Mateo said to him, “but if you love her like you’re supposed to, you’ll let her save herself. I don’t know where you could go, but—”

“No, it’s not that,” Boyd argued. “The nanites are in her brain and body. She can’t simply log out. Whatever is happening will still be happening, and could still be damaging her. But at least here, she can see what’s going on from the inside.”

“Our friends don’t necessarily know that something has gone wrong,” Mateo reasoned. “We have to leave so we can tell them, so they can solve it from their end.”

“You go,” Romana urged. “Tell Ram and mother. I will stay and maintain the link.”

Mateo stopped, and stopped her by the shoulder. They had covered some ground. “That doesn’t make sense. You need to be able to talk to them about what you’re feeling, and what you’re thinking. They need to be able to ask you questions. I will stay here.”

“Time is different when she’s not here,” Boyd explained. “I don’t have to wait a full year for her to come back, but I do spend some time alone, so I live more like a normal person, instead of a program that she just turns on and off. Whatever these things are...”

“They could be messing with that.” Mateo turned back to his daughter. “That’s why you need to go. Please. We’ll take care of each other. If he were the original Boyd, or if he’s not; it doesn’t matter. I don’t know how to test for that. I have to assume that he’s a conscious being, so I will fight for him like I would anyone else.” He waited. “Now go!”

Romana gave Boyd a hug and a kiss, and Mateo only a hug. Then she disappeared.

“Do you have any idea what these things are?” Mateo asked. “Can we fight them?”

“I wouldn’t know, but I wouldn’t try. They might kill you. Just by touch, they might genuinely destroy your IDCode, leaving your body an empty husk in base reality.”

The monsters were closing in on them again, so they started running off again. “Can we simply shift to a different environment?” Mateo asked. “Anywhere but here.”

Boyd extended his hand, then transported them away when Mateo took it, but no matter where they jumped, the blobs were always in the exact same place, relative to their positions. The blobs could pass through solid objects, so the only way to stay ahead of them was to run. The humans had to keep running for a week before rescue came.

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The Advancement of Mateo Matic: September 18, 2562

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They were kind of surprised to come back to the timestream in 2562 to find that there were no more hits on Ramses’ warning system. Well, there were few in the meantime, but they closed out by the time they returned. He specifically designed it to maintain some privacy. An invisible probe would spy on the colonists, and log what was happening to them, categorizing what might be an issue, then if necessary, send an alert back to homebase. It would not reveal what happened, or what they would be getting themselves into. If something changed about the situation, the probe would amend the status with a new report, which in many cases, would render the team moot. They knew there would be things they missed due to their patterns. That didn’t mean they wanted to gather exabytes of data on the lives of strangers. They were only here to help, and if there was nothing they could do, they didn’t need to know about it.

In his spare time, Ramses had figured out what went wrong with Romana’s sojourn in her private virtual environment before. She had set it up incorrectly, not reaching out for help when she needed it, because she wanted to keep it a secret. He assured them that it would not happen again. She was going to go back there when her father stopped her. “What? You don’t want me to see him? You think it’s unhealthy?”

“I’m not here to judge you,” Mateo promised. “We would like to meet him. For real, this time. Preferably when he’s fully clothed, but...again, I don’t wanna judge.”

“We’re not naturists,” Romana explained. “What do you want, a dinner?”

Mateo checked his watch. “Whatever meal you would have at whatever time it is in there. We’re flexible. I just want you to know that I love and I support you. I saw how Linwood Meyers’ eyes lit up when his companion bot walked into the room. I come from a different time, when that kind of relationship wasn’t possible. That doesn’t mean I should be closed off to the idea. Quite the opposite. I need to recognize my ignorance.”

“I’m glad to hear you say that,” Romana said. She looked over at Leona and Olimpia, who were planning to go in too, but hadn’t spoken up yet. “Maybe just one at a time, though. I don’t know if Boyd is conscious, but he is sensitive.”

“That’s okay,” Leona said with a smile. “You two go in alone. I have some work to do on our habitats anyway. Enjoy your dinner. Eat whatever you want. You can’t get fat.”

“Yeah, and I’m gonna...go eat something that might make me fat,” Olimpia added.

“I’ll still love you,” Mateo said. “All of you.” He kissed his wife, then his other wife.

Father and daughter entered the simulation. It didn’t look like Topeka anymore. It was just a peaceful jungle or forest, or whatever. A huge waterfall fell into the little pond before them, but the volume was turned down low, so it wasn’t a sensory overload. They were wearing casual summer clothes, and it was the ideal temperature here. They heard someone call Romana from behind. They turned around, and she smiled brightly.

“Boyd!” Romana cried back, waving. She ran up to him so they could kiss.

Boyd was noticeably uncomfortable with the PDA. “Is it okay?”

Romana looked back over at Mateo too. “It’s okay. He won’t bite.”

Mateo walked up to them. “I really won’t.” He offered his hand. “It’s nice to officially meet you,” Boyd Maestri. “I thought maybe we could share a meal.”

“I would very much like that, sir,” Boyd replied. “I had a picnic planned, but we can do something else. There is plenty of food either way.”

“A picnic sounds lovely,” Mateo said. “Lead the way.”

They went off to eat. It was awkward, but became less so over time. Then the monsters came.

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Microstory 2707: Walking Out With the Door

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It’s been another year now. Leif knows his own name, and responds to it. Isavet has taken quite a liking to him. She doesn’t quite understand what Talus did, but she knows he was a bad boy, and seems to be trying to compensate for him. Ronan and Gia often talk about how close they might have been to Talus doing something to her. They grew up together as babies, so he never would have seen her as a threat to his status, but he might have held hate against her for some other reason. They don’t know what was going on in his head. They never will, and they have decided to take this as a blessing. For the most part, they don’t talk about Talus at all, especially not openly.

Ronan’s mind drifts outside the dome when he’s alone, often towards Talus’ new place on Varkas Reflex. He thinks about him from time to time, wondering how he’s doing. He’s probably having the time of his life. A significant portion of the population chooses such a life on purpose, and stays forever. Ronan could get everything he has here in there, but it wouldn’t feel right. He would always know it’s not real. He’s clearly not the only one. It’s why Castlebourne is the fastest growing colony in the galaxy, when it really should be Varkas Reflex, or it shouldn’t matter since you can technically do VR anywhere. One day, Castlebourne may sport the highest population of all. That will be an interesting time. According to projections, he will be done with this particular simulated experience by then, but who knows? The winds could shift.

They’re thinking of moving, just to separate themselves from the community. It has grown since they first arrived. A few other people have settled land near their farm. And they all know what happened, to some degree, so the looks Ronan and Gia get can be really uncomfortable, and take them out of the Norse experience. It wouldn’t be narratively unreasonable either. People moved all the time in this culture. But there’s one thing that would be hard to take with them. Ronan isn’t sure if he wants it, though.

“I think we should do it,” Gia says. “I think we should take it with us. You built that very nice wagon for us. If we moved far up to another beach, it wouldn’t be too difficult of a trip. It will take us several days regardless.”

Ronan keeps staring at it. “I built this house around this door. I did it for Mayumi. I did it for...” He trails off, not wanting to say his name.

“It’s our door now,” Gia points out. “It may be worth more than anything else we have combined. Some rich person was very upset, but has had nearly a decade to get over it. But the fact that you’re agonizing over it leads me to believe that you’re ready?”

Ronan looks at his wife now. “I think I’m ready. It’s time. This phase of our lives is over. How does Isavet feel about it? Is she attached to this house?”

“She might want to leave more than any of us,” Gia explains. “She may understand more about what happened to Leif than we thought. I catch her sometimes, staring at his crib when he’s not in it. She moves it to where it was when...” She trails off too. “Vith can’t find a wife here. We should look somewhere else.”

Ronan chuckles. “Vith doesn’t want a wife.”

“He does if he wants to stay immersed,” Gia says.

“He may not want to do that either,” Ronan calculates. “He’s changed more than any of us in some ways. He may be ready to leave too, but go in a different direction.”

“Well, we’ll let him decide that, and I won’t ask him about it. You shouldn’t either. Now come on, we are not packing up today. Dinner is almost ready.”

Microstory 2705: Going Home

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The majority of the reasons that people in history had to commit crimes, or otherwise do harm, are now obsolete. The only truly valuable currency in the 26th century is energy. It’s not technically impossible to steal. It’s just very hard. It’s much easier, actually, to earn it by laying claim on one of the quadrillions of sufficiently sized small celestial objects in the galaxy, or one of the hundreds of billions of stars. There are other motivations, however, particularly ones sourced from the way a person’s brain happens to be wired. Some people are simply aberrant, and training them to improve is difficult. You can’t just reprogram an independent entity. Maintaining someone’s right to self-determination is a fundamental tenet of existence. There are many classifications of intelligence, but once you cross that threshold of self-consciousness, it is profoundly unethical for someone to take it from you. But coupled with the ease of immortality, how do you deal with someone who breaks the mould in harmful ways? Virtual reality.

Specifically, virtual quarantine. It’s essentially just a private server where you can do whatever you want, even if it would be considered awful in base reality, but you can’t leave. You’re not causing any real harm, because you’re technically alone. The only other people around you are NPCs. They don’t think. They don’t feel. They’re just ones and zeroes, ordered in such a pattern that makes them behave incredibly life-like. You can hurt them if you want, because you’re not actually hurting anyone. Or you can grow and learn. It’s up to you. It’s your world, you’re stuck in it. The question is, is even this ethical? By defaulting to immortality, you’re still stripping them of choice. The reasoning is that they can always choose to end themselves later, whereas if they first choose to die, they can’t change their minds. But not everyone agrees, which is why the debate rages on, even after centuries of having consciousness transfer technology.

Since there’s no clear answer to that, it’s one of the few major laws that are handled on a regional basis. Some say an eternity like this isn’t punishment, and some say it’s cruel and unusual. It really depends on whether he’s monitored or not. And if your pocket of civilization has opted against it, any overarching governmental body can’t override it, as long as your alternative punishment isn’t overtly unethical too. Many of the colonies, even those in the Core, have banned it. Earth employs it, as does one particular planet where it’s not only available for the locals, but also welcomes charters from others. Varkas Reflex was trying to become Castlebourne before Castlebourne existed. They were trying to build a massive theme park. But they weren’t ambitious enough and failed, so they pivoted to something smaller in design, but grander in scope. They perfected virtual simulations. That is where Talus is going, but there’s a snag.

Again, when dealing with an immortal population, people can swap bodies nearly as easily as clothing. It’s the consciousness that holds value. The substrate is only a sleeve. Which means the court is within their rights to destroy any and all of these substrates. They can always simply make another if something were to change in the future. Talus is too young. He has not had time to digitize his mind himself. He grew up in an ancestor simulation that prevented him from even knowing that was a possibility. He only has one substrate. He only ever had one. It’s therefore both unethical and illegal to destroy it, even if his mind is preserved in the virtual construct. So when he goes there, he gets to take his body with him, even if he’s not allowed to use it. But that’s also a security risk. Fortunately, that’s not Ronan’s problem anymore. He’s going home.