Microstory 2437: Warehouse Dome

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This is a big planet, and it needs a lot of stuff. But you don’t just make all the stuff you need, put it where you need it, and walk away. Some stuff gets consumed, while others get worn out. Plus, they’re always expanding, so stuff needs to be added to these new environments. They build the stuff ahead of time, and store it away. I don’t know how many warehouses there are, but there are at least thirteen, and this is one of them. Picture a warehouse with concrete floors, tall shelves, and a bunch of random artifacts. Now multiply that by who knows how much. That’s Warehouse Dome. I have no idea what all these things are for. I’m guessing that there were more appropriate goods in a section that I didn’t see, like dayfruit growers and vactrain seat upholstery. In the area where I was, I saw a set of humming golf clubs, a whole shelf of glass insulators, and a giant vat of purple goo. Tell me what that’s all about. The people I saw there sure wouldn’t. I immediately felt totally accosted by them, like I wasn’t doing my job, or something. I was apparently in the wrong place, and was supposed to be in a different aisle doing inventory? Those idiots thought that I worked there. It didn’t even seem like they expected any visitors in the first place. Like, there was no tour or orientation, not even anyone who seemed to be in charge. They were just really secretive and weird. I was probably not meant to be there at all, but if that’s the case, why did they even let me in in the first place? Can you just go anywhere? Can you go to any dome you want, no matter how much of a threat you are? I heard of one where they keep all the water. Can you just pour some poison into it without even sneaking around, or breaking in? Whatever, it was boring. I perused the objects—like the self-typing old-timey typewriter, and a mirror that had some creepy little girl in it—for a little bit, but then I left. Lock your doors, or put up a sign, or something. Don’t just leave me hanging like that. I don’t see this as my fault. By the way, the above is my name for it. They just called it Warehouse 13. I didn’t bother finding out if the first twelve were just as weird. Then again, maybe the prospectus is broken. It was listed as an adventure dome, despite clearly being logistical, so I don’t even know.

Microstory 2408: Sportsdome

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

Microstory 2406: Foggy Forest

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This place is exactly what it says on the tin. It’s a forest, and there is fog. It’s obviously done on purpose, and while it’s very calculated, it’s also unfinished. The technology necessary for great climate control is there, but it’s still difficult to maintain, and I think some of the processing power is allocated to other regions. This place is great, but it’s not the number one spot on the planet. I saw the fog nozzles sticking out from the ground and the trees a number of times. I’m a gamma tester, and it’s still early, so I’m sure they’ll work out the kinks. They asked me for feedback at the end, so I told them about all this. Actually, they asked me for feedback while I was still there, which I get; they really wanna fix the issues before the real visitors show up. Now let’s talk more about it in an idealized situation. The fog isn’t consistent. Some parts are spookier than others. I’m not sure if there are creepy little monsters lurking in the shadows, but I did get that sense when I went to some of the denser areas. They were pretty tight-lipped about what this was all about. At first, it seems pretty simple. It’s a forest, and there is fog, but maybe there’s more to it? Maybe something lives here. Do you think they finally found aliens? I’m not talking about the microbes we located under the ice on Europa. I mean real aliens that roam around the land and being all sinister and dangerous. I guess they don’t have to be sinister, but everything is dangerous. Maybe I’m just a little bit crazy. That’s what this place does to you, though. It gets in your head, and makes you question your reality. It should be pretty straightforward. It’s a forest, and there is fog. You can go camping, or you can stay in one of the cabins. You don’t even ask to stay in a cabin. If you find shelter, stay there, and if someone else shows up, I guess you have to defend your territory somehow? Like I was saying, there were no instructions, and there don’t seem to be any rules. I dunno, it’s really creepy, but if you can stomach it, I don’t think that anything bad will actually happen to you. You’ll probably be okay. Probably. There’s not much to it. It’s a forest, and there is fog.

Microstory 2402: Castledome

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I had the rare opportunity to visit Castledome. For those of you not in the know, this was the first dome ever built on the surface of this planet. They’re not even sure if the original colonist was intending to build more domes at the time, or if he just needed a breathable place to live. This is where the leadership and other sentient staff members of the whole planet live and work. Obviously, there’s a castle, but that’s not all. They’ve built up a whole village in the surrounding areas, giving it the real feel of a medieval settlement. Everything on the outside looks really archaic and simplistic. I’m not sure if the old-timey machines are functional, like the water mill, or the wagons that I see strewn about, but I’m sure they are. I didn’t spend a whole lot of time outside, or inside, for that matter. I was only granted a one night stay in one of the towers as a sort of treat. To be fair, this planet is still in its early stages. They’re still testing a lot of these hotspots, so I’m sure more people will have the chance to do what I did. It was interesting to be in all that stone architecture. I’m fairly young, so I just don’t have any experience with that sort of thing. But don’t fret, it wasn’t all rustic. They still have computers and a network connection. The bed might have looked old, but the mattress was still really comfortable, and came with all the adjustable settings and smart sensors. I was hoping to get a chance to meet the planet’s owner, but he was just too busy. I can imagine that running this place is not easy, even though he has a full staff of dedicated personnel. This may change in the future, but there aren’t any activities or adventures in this particular dome. It’s just for living and exploring, and again, it’s not available to everyone since that’s where all the people work. Check it out if you can, but don’t get your hopes up.

Microstory 2401: The Terminal

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You know what? This place is big. They call it the Terminal because everyone who quantum casts their consciousness to this planet runs through here. It’s mind-boggling how large it is. I think I heard someone say that every cast-capable individual could upload their mind to a new substrate here at pretty much the same time, and there would be enough room for everyone. I don’t know about that, but I saw this thing from the outside, and I think I believe it. But in the end, the principle remains the same. You get in an egress pod wherever you’re coming from, hook yourself up to the machine, and zip across the interstellar void. You wake up about an hour later, and start moving around in your new body. You’re a little shaky at first, because I admit, it was a new experience. The technology they use to transfer your consciousness is a little different. They have to worry more about things like interference and signal degradation. Don’t get me wrong, I wasn’t afraid, and I don’t regret it. I just mean, the end result may be a bit different than what you’re used to. It’s just a little harder to acclimate, even if you’re a seasoned caster. Fortunately, they were prepared. They have nearby acclimation rooms that are designed to help you figure things out. They have bars to hold onto and treadmills; basically everything you would find in a physical therapy gym. I was told that they do offer mech subs, if you want that instead of an organic. I’ve never personally used one of those kinds of bodies, so I can’t speak to that experience, but if you choose that route, you may be able to move around just fine right away. Anyway, I didn’t need to use any of the equipment. It was helpful just to have a place to sit and relax. They also had an orientation theatre. Some of it was in person, surely from an android of some kind, while other parts were on the holo-screen. There are way too many domes for them to go through them all, but they do teach you how to search through the catalog, so you can find the exact experience that you’re looking for. But I won’t get into specifics here. I’m sure once I start going to the domes, I’ll review those too. This is just about The Terminal. You should know, they do have medical facilities here, and hygiene stations. I didn’t use any of those, but they’re there if you need them, and they looked nice. I set my trip up ahead of time, so I pretty much received my orientation packet, and bounced. It looked like some people were hanging out there for a little while, though there are plenty of domes that offer relaxation options.

Microstory 2400: Introduction to Castlebourne Reviews

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I feel like it’s been a long time since I’ve addressed you, my imaginary audience. Sometimes I like to introduce new microfiction series as one of the characters, or the in-universe narrator, or someone else involved in the canon. Sometimes, however, it’s best if I just come at it as myself. In the end, I decided to do it this way, because there’s no good way for a character to prepare their readers for what they’re going to write. These are going to be formatted as customer reviews, and people don’t typically plan such writings. They have the experiences, and write how they feel in that moment. I know that there are going to be 99 of these in total, but the narrating reviewer wouldn’t really know that. In fact, I’m still not sure if the reviews are going to be from the perspective of one person who visited multiple domes, or if each one will be from a different person. I may leave it up in the air, because when it comes to real reviews, most people don’t have reviewers that they follow. I mean, I think it happens, but there’s often that trope with a prolific business reviewer who believes that their thoughts are important to other customers, and the joke is that no one really cares that much about any single review, and they probably don’t pay much attention to a reviewer’s history. Anyway, here’s the story. About 108 light years from Earth, there’s a planet called Castlebourne. It falls into the category of a Charter World. Now, what is that? Well, the closest neighboring star systems to Earth are known as the Core Worlds. We’re a tight-knit group. They were colonized through state-sponsored missions, they belong to a uniform, cohesive government, and they follow all the rules. In return, they get military protection, and resource exchanges without question. Stellar Neighborhood systems also receive military protection and aid, but at a lower priority to the Core. They don’t have to be post-scarcity societies, but their government can’t be oppressive, violent, or unfair. Civilizations in the Charter Cloud are expected to get there on their own, and for the most part, handle their own needs. They can’t take military action against a Core or Neighborhood system, but they’re not entitled to military protection from the Core. They can execute trade negotiations, but nothing is guaranteed. Any colony beyond this range is totally out of the Core’s control, and can do whatever they want, but the downside is they get nothing.

Castlebourne enjoys really strong ties to the Sol System. Despite being as far out into the galaxy as they are, they’ve been granted a number of charters. They’ve been afforded technology, power allotments, and additional ships in order to accomplish their goals. This is because Castlebourne offers a lot to all citizens of the inner colony bands. Almost the entire surface is littered with tens of thousands of geodesic domes. Most of these will be pressurized, and become habitable eventually, but it takes a lot of work, and a ton of resources. That’s why these charters are so important. These domes offer visitors all sorts of entertainment and amusement potential. Some are recreational, some of relaxational, some are for exploration, some are wildlife preserves. Many of them are just for the permanent inhabitants to live, and cultivate their independent society. There are two gargantuan oceans at the poles. This planet boasts having everything you could ever want. You can travel there using a fractional ship, but it’s going to take you over a hundred years to reach it. If you’re lucky, you might be able to get on a ship with a reframe engine, which will take around two months. But most people don’t see any point in this. They instead transfer their consciousnesses across the interstellar void via advanced quantum tunneling, and download into new substrates. It takes about an hour, and that’s it. Not every dome is available. There are just so many of them, and only so many sufficiently original ideas. But believe me, there are plenty of them. There is more than enough to see to occupy your time for decades. It would be pretty tough to get bored on Castlebourne. Like I said, the next 99 stories will be in the form of customer reviews, told from a person (or people) who had some meaningful visit there, and they barely scratch the surface. I could write a fictional review every weekday for the next forty years, and still not even come close to covering them all. Hopefully, these are the most interesting, at least out of the domes that were ready at the purported time of writing according to the set time period around the Grand Opening in the year 2500. Read them all, and decide for yourselves if Castlebourne is a place that you would like to travel to some day.

Microstory 2344: Vacuus, April 2, 2179

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Dear Condor,

That all sounds very dangerous. I’m glad that you’re inside fulltime now. I’ve only ever lived in three places, and never go outside. I grew up on the ship while it was on its way all the way out here, and a little when it was first in orbit around Vacuus. I was eighteen when we arrived, and after some initial surveys, I was part of the first group to drop down to the planet. And I really mean that. We took something called a dropship down to the surface. We lived there for almost two years before they had built enough of the residential base for us to move in there. Back then, we couldn’t launch any ships back into orbit, because it takes too much fuel to do it the traditional way, and the necessary infrastructure for more advanced methods took time to engineer. Now we have something called a launch loop, which—if you don’t know—is like a giant-ass roller coaster that allows us to get into space without expending too much energy, or requiring as much tensile strength as a space elevator would. They’re thinking about building the latter at some point, but it’s going to take a lot more effort and time. Anyway, until we started to be able to travel back and forth relatively cheaply, there were two separate populations. Those who never dropped down to Vacuus lived up there, and had their own kids. We stayed in contact with each other, though, since it was the only place we could talk to which had no significant time delay. I’ve never been back in person, however, while most people I know have gone back at least once. It’s really just little kids who have no had the opportunity yet. My friend who lives up there now has been asking me to take the launch loop into orbit for a visit, and I want to do that, but I also don’t. So much can go wrong. I cannot believe that I used to live on a ship. How did I end up so soft and cowardly? How did you do it? How are you so brave? You don’t have to answer that. This is just my neuroses getting in the way of my goals. I already go to counseling to get this stuff figured out.

Not yet living my best life,

Corinthia

Microstory 2332: Earth, January 7, 2179

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Dear Corinthia,

Yes, Happy New Year, welcome to 2179. I have some good news. The diplomatic discussions that my father was engaged in have finally proven fruitful. They’ve finalized a trade deal. We’re going to get the resources we need to stay afloat (pun intended), which is good, because we’re gonna need them to accommodate the influx of immigrants that we’ll be receiving from the land. We’re headed to Australia right now to pick them up. They didn’t build their dome right by the coastline, since it would have been susceptible to attack there, but it’s not too terribly far away. The roads that they made in the old world are still there, so the trip shouldn’t be too difficult. They have these giant vacuum sealed vehicles that can fit many dozens of people. They’re not amphibious, but we have our own solution here, so people won’t ever have to step foot out into the toxic air. We can drive our boats right up to the shore, and extend the plastic tunnels, which we’ll seal around the entrance of the cars so people can walk right on through without being exposed to the toxic air around them. Right now, we’re on our way across the ocean to reach them. It will take us a few weeks. We couldn’t head that direction until the deal was done, though, or it could have been seen as an act of aggression. For us to assume that they would inevitably agree—and to be ready to act on it immediately—would have been rude, and placed us at an unfair advantage when it comes to future talks. It would be like suggesting that they need us more than we need them. So yeah, that’s where we are. It’s unclear how involved dad and I will be during the immigration period, but we won’t be doing nothing. I may end up going on land to visit the dome there. I hope everything is going well with you in the first two weeks of the year. He needs to know whether he can contact you first, or if you’re going to reach out. Let me know what you would prefer, it’s super your decision. His personal contact card is attached to this message. You can open it, or ignore it and just tell me that you want me to send yours to him instead.

Sincerely,

Condor

Microstory 2149: A Million of Anything

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As you might have deduced from the title, I’ve reached one million readers. Is that right? Is it deduce, or is it induce? I’ve heard that deduction comes from removing all wrong answers, but that’s probably wrong, and I really don’t know what induction is. Here’s the thing, I have a pretty decent vocabulary, but there are still some concepts that I struggle with. I’m also very logical, but I’ve also always particularly struggled with explaining my logic through accepted standardized terms, like straw man or if and then. I can tell you my logic, but I’m not going to sound very smart while I do it, and I’ll stumble over all of my words on my way there. In seventh grade, I was failing English class. We were on a topic called Greek and Latin Roots and Stems. I was paying so little attention that I didn’t even know what that meant. I’m sure I was daydreaming a lot. I didn’t crack open my workbook once, and in fact, would just leave it in my locker. We had a test the next day so I actually had to call a classmate, who gave me hers to photocopy. It was kind of late at night, and really weird, and humiliating, and my dad was angry with me for it, because like I said, it was twelve or thirteen, so he had to help me with everything. So anyway, I got the workbook, and started looking through it, and I’m like, “this? This is what my teacher has been talking about? I know all this. It says that -ing means continuous action, because of course it does. This is why my teacher called my parents, and got me in trouble?” Needless to say, now that I understood what I was missing, I aced the test, and ended up with one of the highest grades of all classes combined. So I’m pretty good at language.

Still, it’s still not clear to me how you induce something, at least not in any practical sense, and my definition of deduction may come from my strong sense of linguistic morphology, not from how the word is actually used in this subject. I remember intuiting that the word division meant separating objects in half when I was a toddler, which misses the fact that it’s not always by half specifically. Why am I talking about this? Oh yeah, a million readers. A million people read my stories now. Well, a million unique IP addresses access my website on a regular basis. I think it goes by the month, but it’s the middle of May now, so is that based on April’s metrics, or is it just from thirty days ago to now? I’m not entirely sure how to read this section of the blog service. Whatever, I’ll take it, I trust the analytics. For years, this is what I wanted, for people to read my stuff, and to keep coming back for more. I’ve never been great at non-fiction, so I didn’t think it would turn out like this, but I guess I didn’t think I would travel to a different world either. Or different worlds, as it were. I wonder how many readers I would be able to get if people in all of the universes that I’ve been to could navigate to the site as well. That would be a lofty goal, and I should really just be focusing on what’s here and now. Thank you. Thank you for reading. I’m sure my alternate self on my homeworld is super envious of me right now. Oh yeah, he’s pissed. I can feel it. His readership still sits at approximately zero. He would take a million of anything if it also meant a million readers, even slaps in the face. I’m not going to celebrate this milestone, because I have a binge eating disorder, which is triggered by the mentality that positive events should be marked with food, but I’m glad anyway. Let’s see how long it takes to get to two million, and then after that, I think the next one should be five billion?

Microstory 2098: Where I was Living

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I was going to crack a joke about being born “at a young age” but it seems that joke has already been made. Or maybe it wasn’t a joke, but written by someone incredibly, incredibly dumb. Either way, it’s as true for me as anyone. My family lived in a small town called Derby, Kansas, which was a suburb of Wichita, which is where the hospital was. I’ve asked my mother multiple times where else exactly we lived after that, but I don’t think I wrote everything down, and besides, I don’t have that information with me, do I? But I know that we moved around a little before I was old enough to retain memories. I was three years old when I first became self-aware. I recall playing in the leaves at my house in Springfield, Missouri, which was where we lived for about five years. My father’s time as a teacher was ending, so we moved back to Kansas. I learned years later that he was applying to jobs in both Topeka and Kansas City, so we lived in Lawrence for a year while we waited to find out which it would be. Once his employment was settled, we moved to Overland Park, and we stayed in that area up until the day I disappeared, though not always in the same house. Overland Park is probably the largest suburb of KC, and they’re all sort of mixed together. You can drive on the highway for less than half an hour, and pass eight different cities without realizing it. This has all complicated my education history, and been complicated by it, but I reckon that I’ve lived in eleven places. That’s not even counting the two months I volunteered on a farm in California, the five different dorms and apartments I was in during college, or the two months that I house-sat for my aunt in Michigan.

I didn’t always get that most people don’t move around this much. As adults, they can return to their childhood bedrooms to find them just as they were. The last room I slept in before leaving the nest is my dad’s home office now. I never stopped moving. Once I was making enough money at work, I moved to a studio apartment.A year later, my parents invested in rental property, and I was their first tenant. It was a two-bedroom house with a yard for a future dog, though it was never a great setup, because the only way to the backyard was through the garage, or from the side yard. So I moved again, this time to a four-bedroom house. That’s where I was living when I got my dog, Daisy. Since I’m a temporal alternate, I’ll just tell you that my other self lives in yet another house now. It only has two bedrooms, but the den (living room) has a door that leads to the backyard, which is perfect for Daisy. She hangs out right by the door, and never dirties up the rest of the house, which is important, because we’re allergic to animal dander, and we have OCD. This is only about my original life, so I won’t even get into all the different worlds I’ve visited since becoming a bulk traveler, but that’s all added a lot too. As I mentioned, I moved schools a lot too, and not always because I moved houses, but won’t get into that until tomorrow. Here’s a list of other states that I’ve visited, in the order that I remember them: Michigan, Colorado, Illinois, Arkansas, Oklahoma, New Mexico, Florida, Ohio, Minnesota, Indiana, California, Texas, Louisiana, Mississippi, Alabama, Iowa, Tennessee, Washington, Alaska, New York, and Hawaii. Here’s a list of other countries that I’ve visited, in definite chronological order: Japan, France, Canada, Egypt, Panama, and Peru.

Microstory 2095: Not Thick Enough

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My parents were pretty tired when they flew into town. There was this whole issue at the airport. I didn’t know this before, but they just built a new airport for Kansas City, and it’s not my favorite. I preferred the older concept, with the circles. People hated that, but my thing is, it can be a great thing, if you do it right. They designed those specific ones poorly, I’ll admit, but the idea is perfectly sound. These are rings, which allow your driver to pull up pretty much right to your gate. There are multiple security entrances, which means that you only have to contend with the people who are getting on your flight, or one of a handful of others. If they staggered the flight schedule right, though, and assigned the gates wisely, they could actually make it so that the only people who are in line for security at any one time are on the same flight. The other flights in your sector have already left, or don’t need to get through yet. Anyway, the issue was that the original ones were not thick enough, which left less room for bathrooms, and almost no room for restaurants, and other shops. Everything was on the outside of security, which I didn’t have a problem with. Since getting through security was so much faster than at other airports, it was fine. You didn’t have to get there three years early, because you’re already just right there! Ugh, I could go on and on about airport layouts, including the fact that you can squeeze more planes in the same area, because the curve is constantly dropping away from the fleet, but let’s get back to the story. I spent a lot of time in the new one, waiting for my parents to land. They’re still figuring out how to coordinate all this foot and car traffic, it was a mess to know where you can pick up your family, and when, then there was a glitch, so everyone was waiting at the wrong baggage conveyor belt. I think it will be fine, they just need time to work out all the kinks. I was going to take them back to my landlord’s house to meet her, and share a meal or two, but they just wanted to get to the hotel, order room service, and then go to sleep. They’ve both been retired for years, so they’ve grown used to their days not being so busy. I decided to spend the night with them. Fortunately, the hotel made its own mistake, and assigned them a double room, so there was a bed there for me. I don’t post on my blog on the weekends, so I’ll catch you all up on Monday. That’s when they’ll be flying back out, so I’m sure we’ll run into more trouble.

Microstory 2094: This New Life Chapter

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I’ve been missing my family. I’ve told you lies about them, like how they live in a different universe, but I’ve also told you some true things, including the fact that a lot of them are teachers, and that my parents liked to log the number of kids who came to their house for Halloween. Don’t worry, it’s not like there’s anything bad between us, but I flew the nest years ago, and I never went back. I was being rebellious, and wanted to exert my independence, and for the longest time, I felt like I couldn’t return, even just to enjoy a Sunday brunch with them, because I thought it would look like I was a failure. I still talk to them, but we’re not nearly as close as we used to be. I think I would like to change that. Things are in motion. I spoke with them on the phone earlier today, and asked if I could visit them. They insisted that they come see me here instead. They say that nothing has changed about where they live, or the way that they live, so they want to see where I am, and how I’m doing. I think that’s okay, even though things aren’t super great right now. They needed a day to get their affairs in order, but they’ll be flying in tomorrow, late morning. I’m going to rent a car to meet them at the airport. I was worried that my social worker wouldn’t like it, because I’m not really supposed to travel, but he actually encouraged it. He thought that I would need closure, or something, but I see it as a new beginning more than anything. I’ll let you know how it goes, but my next blog chapter will probably not be long, since I’ll be too busy writing this new life chapter.

The Advancement of Mateo Matic: Year 32,398

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Asier doesn’t come to retrieve Mateo after the next break from realtime. The stasis pod hatch opens on its own ten thousand years later, so Mateo steps out to head for the master sitting room. It’s empty, which he takes as an opportunity. Looking around to make sure that no one is spying on him, he creeps over to the globe, and opens it up. It’s empty too; the Omega Gyroscope has been removed from it.

“She knew she couldn’t trust you,” Bhulan reveals.

Mateo closes it back up without looking at her. “I just wanted to see it again.”

“Uhuh,” she says, not believing him. “It’s hers, you know. As long as the Gyroscope is in use, the user can do whatever they want with it, and no one can take it from them until the current objective has been fulfilled, or they give it freely.”

“It can’t be stolen, got it.” He steps away from it and sighs.

“I can be convinced not to tell her you came straight here to steal it.”

“I wasn’t stealing it, I was just going to borrow it.”

“For what purpose?”

“To get back to my family.”

Bhulan chuckles. “That thing can’t do that for you. I mean, technically it can, but not on its own. People seem to think that its power is limitless, but it’s not. It can alter the physical laws of the world that it is in. It can’t turn you into a bird, and it can’t send you forward in time. At best, it would give you the option of jumping through time, but you would have to figure out how to actually accomplish that on your own.”

“What if I asked it to alter the world so that psychically-powered wormholes capable of time travel open up when conceived up by someone who wants one?”

She smiles. “That’s creative, but you’re not psychic enough. It doesn’t alter people, I mean, not really. Like I said, it can’t turn you into a bird.”

“No birds, no psychics. Understood.”

“Anyway, we’re having a pool party today, if you wanna come. We can print you a swimsuit. I bet you’ve never worn one that fits perfectly.”

It seems weird to have a pool party with five people, three of which are related, but he follows her anyway. They’re in the short course pool today, instead of the Olympic-size one, and it is packed full of party-goers. Who the hell are these people? “Are they holograms, androids...?”

“Oh no, they’re real,” she claims. “Have you ever heard of Westfall?”

“So, they don’t even know where they are?”

“They think that this is a rich community’s disaster bunker.”

“Isn’t that what it actually is anyway?” Mateo suggests.

She just rolls her eyes. The three of them aren’t rich in the traditional sense, but they command all of this real estate, and all power is concentrated in them. They’re rich.

“Did you ask for them to come here?” he asks. “Spit it out,” he encourages when she hesitates to respond.

“It’s the Gyroscope. This is a glitch. Tamerlane thinks it has something to do with its user. He was actually the first Westfall victim to show up, and he just never left. Without them, there would be nothing to do here. Most of the time, when we’re not in stasis, it’s because alarms have reported that someone is here who shouldn’t be. One of us is then tasked with leaving the stasis chamber, and containing the intruder.”

“That’s why Danica is so freaked out, because the whole point is to prevent all this scifi stuff from being able to happen in this reality.”

“Yeah, pretty much.”

“But intruders like this don’t happen in the other realities, right?”

“Not to this annoying degree, no.” She gestures towards the kids laughing and screaming in the water, thinking they’re pulling one over on a wealthy snob.

“Maybe it’s wrong to think of it as a glitch. Maybe it’s more of a consequence. The Gyroscope is like a vacuum, sucking up all temporal energy, and pushing it away from the world, but that opens tears in whatever separates this universe from others. Things are supposed to go out only, but occasionally, something comes the wrong direction through these tears. I mean, maybe it’s even the temporal energy itself that’s doing it. If you were trying to suck out all the carbon, it would be fine, but what you’re doing is taking power away from us, and giving it to them, which they then use to sneak in.”

Bhulan slowly turns her face away from him in thought. “Hmm.”

“I don’t sound like an idiot?”

“Usually, yes, but that was surprisingly...not entirely ridiculous. What we need to do is move the temporal energy out of the world, and put it somewhere where we can contain it, where it can’t affect anyone. Like a...pocket dimension?”

“Or how about Durus?” Mateo offers. He’s not doing it to be nice. Durus is a rogue planet that is not very far away from Earth in celestial terms, and if he and his friends can get back to the AOC, it won’t take them long to make the journey. From there, the smart team members will surely be able to come up with a way out of the Third Rail, with virtually limitless power at their disposal.

“No, there are too many people there. Well, not in this reality, of course, but in others, and that would put them at risk of accidentally crossing over. One errant portal, and the system breaks down.”

That’s okay, it doesn’t have to be Durus. As long as Mateo knows where it is, they can get to it four and a half billion years from now. By then, these people will have tossed it to the back of their minds so they can focus on other issues. Once this new plan works, they’ll stop worrying about it, which will allow Mateo’s team to exploit it. “I suppose Dardius is out.” He doesn’t want them choosing it, because it’s too far away from here. The AOC can’t make it in a reasonable amount of time.

“Yeah, we wouldn’t wanna do that.” She looks over at him. “In fact, we wouldn’t want it to be anywhere where there are people. That includes you. You’re trying to trick me into telling you where we’ll end up sending the temporal energy.”

“I don’t understand the problem,” Mateo argues. “You want us to leave the Third Rail, we want to leave the Third Rail. To me, that sounds like our objectives are aligned, but you keep acting like I’m the frickin’ enemy.”

“It’s more complicated than that.”

“Yeah, it’s way complicated, and I’m just a big ol’ dum-dum who couldn’t find his arms with his hands. Well, if I’m no longer needed, I think I’ll go take a nap. I haven’t slept in a long time, because the time jumps give me a huge case of FOMO.”

“Mateo...”

“No, it’s okay, I understand. Good luck with your little power vacuum.” Holy crap, power vacuum? Is it really that obvious? Did he just help himself realize where they end up dumping the temporal energy?

The Advancement of Mateo Matic: November 13, 2398

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Everest disappeared shortly after their conversation, which was probably one of the major reasons he cut it so short in the first place. He acted like he saw it coming. He lasted much longer than Erlendr and the old man in the pocket dimension, though, suggesting some level of control that one can wield over the process if they know to do so. It’s hard to tell how much Everest does or doesn’t know, but there is no guarantee the next error they encounter will be just as strong-willed. To be honest, it’s been so long, Mateo forgot about that whole thing. He’s the cause of their banishment from this realm, meaning he is still the worst person for the job. If they want to pursue this endeavor further, someone is going to have to come back down from the AOC so Alyssa doesn’t have to shoulder the burden alone. Marie has tentatively agreed, but she’s finishing some work up there at the moment, so she definitely won’t be returning today.

It has ended up being a good thing, because a certain prisoner of the federal government has asked to see her, and Mateo doesn’t want her to deal with that. He’s on his way to visit Fairpoint Panders himself. He tried to escape into Canada after he took a bunch of people hostage, and tried to kill Marie. Normally, the Canadian courts would handle the trial, since that’s where he was when he was caught, and the crime went down in Palmeria, but the Canadians don’t want to touch it, plus all non-Palmerian victims were Usonian citizens. This was likely disappointing news to Fairpoint as the Canadian judicial system is known for being highly respectful to prisoner’s rights.

Mateo sits down on the good side of the glass, cleans the phone with a disinfecting wipe, and puts it to his ear. Fairpoint doesn’t have any wipes on his side, because this isn’t Canada. “I can only see one visitor at a time, and I’m only given thirty minute sessions, so say whatever you wanna say, then leave, so I can speak with Marie.”

“I’m not here to warn you about how you’ll treat Marie. She’s just straight up not coming. You’re dealing with me today, and only me.”

“You’re not on my approved list. They shouldn’t have even let you in the building,” Fairpoint spits.

“I work with SD6,” Mateo reasons. “I can get into any building I want.”

“I want to talk to Marie.” He’s desperately trying to keep his temper in check, because he knows they’ll yank his visitation time if he gets too riled up. He’s rattled...flustered even. He has spent the last month in his cell, planning every word he wants to say, preparing contingencies for every possible response out of her. This is wrong. It’s all wrong. Mateo’s ruined it, and Mateo couldn’t be happier.

“She’s not coming. She never will. Over the years, we’ve had a lot of enemies—”

“I’ll tell them about the baby.”

“What?”

“She was going to have a baby, but now it’s gone, which I know was something she wanted, so either she’s incredibly lucky, or she figured out how to get a secret abortion. Not even her position within the government could get her out of this, so you tell her that if she wants me to keep quiet, she’ll come here and give me thirty minutes!”

Mateo is foaming at the mouth. He takes out his phone, which a normal visitor would not be allowed to keep. He keeps staring at Fairpoint as he’s dialing Winona. “On second thought, I’ll take that transfer. I want him moved to the black site immediately.”

Microstory 1730: The Crux

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No one is old enough to remember what happened. It’s always just sort of been this way; a hill in the center of our little doughnut-shaped town where four roads meet. I don’t mean that it’s two roads crossing each other. Each of the four has its own name, and while it’s not impossible to get from one to the other by driving over what we unofficially call The Crux, it’s not recommended for regular cars. The hill is deceptively steep, and for some reason, it’s always rather muddy halfway up, on all sides. It’s a bit of a pain, but it’s much more reasonable to go around it on one of the other roads. It’s not a problem for people who live here. We know the hill is there, and we know heading towards it is going to get us nowhere...unless we’re trying to get to the hill itself, of course. Tourism is already hard to come by for us, and this just makes it harder. None of the internet maps knows it’s there, and don’t know it’s a bit of an impediment, so they direct folks right through it. We keep trying to get them to remove it from their system as a traversable road, but we’ve had no luck so far. Again, with the right vehicle, it’s possible to drive over it, but we’ve had some issues with people who don’t know what they’re doing. We actually have four ways of getting out of such a mess if it happens to you. The auto repair shop is on South Avenue, the county’s largest tow truck company is on Backbone Road, the dealership is on Krouka, and there’s a gas station on Heap Lane. It’s not all that necessary—problems don’t occur all that often—but it’s nice to know that people will have options, so they’ll think twice about saying bad things about us. Crux notwithstanding, ours is a fine town, with good, progressive people, who like to lead the simple life, but understand how the city operates, and why others would prefer it.

Anyway, today I’m sitting on top of the Crux with a bunch of friends. It’s got a good vantage point of the surrounding area, so we hang out there all the time. Flat Kansas being what it is, it’s nice to be above it all sometimes, ya know? So we’re sitting there, watching a small car we don’t recognize come down Krouka. They probably drove in from Great Bend, looking to fish in our world famous pond, where it’s pretty much guaranteed you’ll catch something. As the car approaches, we realize just how tiny it is. I bet only two people could fit in that thing, and maybe one bag each. There is no way it’s gonna make it up the Crux. We don’t even bother picking up our chairs to get out of the way this time. That little thing comes up there, from this perspective, lookin’ like a ground squirrel wondering if the mailbox poll drops nuts. It slows down, but doesn’t stop. Most people get out, and take a look around when they don’t know what the hell is going on here. They’re holding their phones, and spinning around to see if they’re facing the wrong direction. These people don’t even do that. They stop for five seconds, back up about fifty meters, and then gun it. They go towards this hill as fast as they possibly can, and they make it up pretty far. My best friend inches over to the side, afraid we’re all wrong, and they’ll actually go all the way. It doesn’t. It stops midway, and rolls back down, smoothly, though, like they saw it was gonna happen, and put it in neutral to be safe. Some of us laugh, but most are relieved, because we know how bad it can get. We’re about to go down to tell them about the dealership when their car transforms. This...laser gun—I guess you would call it—comes out from under the hood, and blasts a tunnel into the hill. We later see it’s large enough to fit a semi-truck. They even laser the other two roads, before driving off without so much as a you’re welcome.

Microstory 1665: Rainrider

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I’m going to get specific with this one. I kind of just chose a story at random to tell you about someone living in Salmonverse. Many people have the ability to manipulate time in some way. They can travel back and forth, or maybe even just back. Others can only teleport. Some people can do crazy things that you wouldn’t think called for temporal manipulation. Invisibility, for instance, is generally done by altering the path of light, but in Salmonverse, it’s done by creating the illusion that something is not there when it is, by superimposing what would be there if the invisible thing actually were not. Some of the restrictions and specialties—which are sometimes referred to as flavors—are bizarre, and seem oddly designed. They can suggest that there’s a higher power making these decisions, even when there’s not. There is in many cases, mind you. People who have no control are called salmon, while people who do are choosing ones. But choosers still have their own restrictions, and like I said, they can be almost too strange to believe. One man in particular could travel through time and space, but only in the rain. When he went outside while it was raining, it prompted his ability to make a jump, and he could land anywhere in time and space, as long as it was raining at his destination as well. Each jump would discharge the temporal energy, no matter how far, and the only way to recharge would be for him to dry off completely, and then go back out in the rain. If the storm had since passed, then he was stuck there until he could find another. I just think this is such a funny little story. There is no explanation for why he had to ride the rain, and he never even looked for one. He accepted his limitations, and used them to his advantage. Man, he loved it too. Once he discovered the power, he abandoned his old life, and used it all the time. He didn’t go back to make changes to the timeline. In fact, he was usually just doing it to see the sites. He didn’t run into any evil time travelers, or get stuck somewhere scary. He just traveled the world, and the timeline, enjoying life as one of the lucky few to see all this in one lifetime. Only once did he go into the future from his time period of origin, just to make sure there wasn’t some kind of temporal lid that would block him. He never had any interest in actually spending any time there, though, partially because he didn’t know the weather patterns anyway, but also because he figured all the beauty was in the past, before pollution and overpopulation ruined everything. Few other travelers ever met him, but it was one of them who gave him his nickname: The Rainrider.

Microstory 1664: Private Network

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When the immortal man created life on a multitude of planets, across thousands of galaxies, in the Composite Universe, he didn’t have many plans to interact with his creations. He figured they could be left to their own devices, and they would rise or fall upon their own merits and mistakes. He didn’t completely abandon most of them, though. For nearly every world, he designed a way to allow his people to reach out to him, if they so wished. Most of them could be found in space, which meant that the people would have to develop enough to actually reach it, but others were near the surface of the world of origin. They would still generally require some level of intelligence, as well as the ability to work together in a team. Still, there were a few planets he chose to ignore, not out of spite or anything, but just to see whether they could find him on their own. They were meant to progress in their own way, and if they eventually became sufficiently advanced—and chose to explore outer space—they could figure it out. It might take them a few thousand years, or more, but neither he nor they were on some kind of time limit. He was destined to live for billions of years, and he had so many other things to worry about, that the outcome of any one race didn’t matter too terribly much. One world discovered how heavily populated the universe was shockingly quickly. Instead of gradually traveling farther and farther from home, they decided to stay on the ground, and focus on finding a way to jump anywhere they wanted instantaneously. This was already possible by way of the Nexus network, but this civilization didn’t have access to that. They had to come up with it all on their own.

They devised a method of sending a vessel to anywhere in the observable universe within a matter of minutes, significantly cutting down travel time, though it was still not quite as fast as a Meganexus, which can do it in seconds. They equipped their vessels with recall mechanisms, allowing it to spontaneously open a new node, and send it back home. They would always have to go back to home base first, but that wasn’t a big deal in the grand scheme of things. Given enough time, they could construct a new relay point, but they only did that if they felt there was any need, like if they found any other lifeforms at the second location. That was what they were doing; going out in search of friends and allies, but also for those who might threaten them. That was another reason not to build a relay point, because if they maintained control over the technology, a nefarious force was less likely to be able to find them. Of course, they started out at shorter distances, covering their galaxy, before moving onto neighboring galaxies, and beyond. Their creator deliberately spread out his people, so each would have room to grow without worrying about running into diplomatic issues for a while. The intergalactic hoppers were pretty upset to learn that they were alone, even though they weren’t. They created a formula long before that predicted how many worlds should be inhabited, and refined it as variables came in through their travels. Not a single evolved and intelligent soul across millions of light years? The reality was that naturally evolved life was even rarer than that, as this was several  hundred million years before humans evolved on Earth. They came this close to going extinct, and while it’s rather complicated, it was pretty much due to profound loneliness. The few survivors kept going, though, and would later find themselves assimilated into the general population.

Microstory 1663: Origin of Atlantis

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Universe Prime is vast, both in space, and across time. I could tell you any number of stories from this universe, and most of them don’t even take place on Earth. Why don’t I stick with what you’re a little more familiar with, though? More specifically, I think I’ll discuss Atlantis, since that is where all the interesting things happen. You’ve probably heard of the sunken island from one story, or another. Different storytellers have different interpretations of it, but there are a few key commonalities. It was an advanced island that sank into the ocean. Sometimes its residents survived, and sometimes not. The truth is that the island did indeed sink, and not only did the people survive, but they sank it on purpose. It all started when a group of scientists from the Composite Universe found themselves stranded in a strange new world. An experiment of theirs didn’t go wrong; it went too right. It was too powerful, and the range was too wide. They made a new home here, but did not want to live a primitive lifestyle, like all the native inhabitants. They still wanted to use their technology, and explore science, so they decided to colonize an island that was surprisingly equidistant from the land masses that would come to be known as Greenland, Iceland, and Ireland—around 690 miles, in your terms. In the beginning, things were fine, as they were far enough away from civilization to avoid interfering with their development, but it didn’t last. Visitors started to come from the mainlands. It was on accident at first, but then when they returned home with stories of the wonders of Atlantis, more came, hoping to see the truth. The Atlantians attempted to prevent any further problems. They distorted the celestial sphere from nearby waters, so it was difficult to navigate, but people still happened upon them. The tried to hide their technology underneath a façade of primitivism. But that was tiresome. They needed a permanent solution. Thus the sinking.

The Atlantians figured that, if any of the natives witnessed their island sinking, they would have been amazed, but they wouldn’t have attempted to investigate it. They certainly wouldn’t have been able to dive down that deep. It legitimately looked like the island was destroyed, so it all should have ended there. Of course, it prompted superstitions, but in the end, the world’s development was not too dramatically altered. They already had plenty of stories about magic, and that would not change for centuries. Meanwhile, the Atlantians kept a watchful eye on the surface of the planet. People were still occasionally finding themselves there from elsewhere, be it the other universe, or just some other planet in Prime. If you were stranded, Atlantis was your best hope of finding a way home. They eventually discovered a way to reach out to their world of origin, but they were now mostly the descendants of those original scientists, so they considered Atlantis their home. Only a few ever chose to leave, including newcomers, many of whom saw Atlantis as a great place to start over. Those that stayed continued to advance technologically, but never ventured outside of their bubble, except to bring in someone new. The island fell completely into the realm of myth, which was their intention all along. It was a pretty diverse crowd of witches, transhumans, regular humans, vampires, aliens, and even a few androids. Since their population was relatively small, even over time, they were able to maintain a fair democracy, and managed to avoid many of the hardships that other civilizations experience from their infancy.

Big Papa: Gray Power (Part IV)

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Needless to say, changing everything about how the afterlife simulation works by going back in time and rescuing the exceptions isn’t actually my first act as keeper. A lot that happens in this place is automated, and these people are pretty self-sufficient, but they don’t do everything. The job demands I spend a pretty significant amount of time managing the higher level residents. They ask a lot of the program, and while it’s not my responsibility to approve—or even acknowledge—every alteration to the code, I do have to make sure it doesn’t get too crazy. Technically, the Level Tens are Unrestricted, and can do whatever they want, but not all of them can be trusted. Back on Earth, there is and was a group of special choosing ones called the Springfield Nine. Or maybe they’re chosen ones; the truth is unclear. A man by the name of Rothko Ladhiffe was dangerous when he was alive, and he’s dangerous now. He wields far too much power than he deserves, and he’s constantly trying to tear down the establishment. The problem is that he’s capable of realizing his dreams, so I have to combat him at every turn. I’m apparently not allowed to demote him, but I’m seriously considering breaking that rule. They’re my rules now, and though I’ve not changed anything yet, I reserve that right.

The residents accept me as their new leader with no fuss. They’re not particularly ecstatic about it either. I kind of thought they would become joyful—and maybe even start singing—as people did when Dorothy killed the two witches. They don’t seem to be giving it much thought. Like I said, the place pretty much runs itself. As far as I know, it’s the longest-running civilization in history, outlasting all others by an order of magnitude. So it’s no surprise they have it fairly well figured out.

The code automatically has me wearing rainbow-colored clothes. I can change the design and accessories all I want, but I can’t wear fewer than six colors at a time. People want to know who you are, and what you can do. It’s as much for safety as it is for status. Many avoid interacting too much with anyone they see wearing violet, since the Unrestricteds are the only ones capable of killing someone permanently. They don’t want to piss them off, and any experience can take a turn, even if it starts out innocuous or pleasant. For this reason, the Violets are powerful, but generally alone, which probably diminishes the fun of being a Violet in the first place.

Lowell is the only one wearing white, as he is the only person who was resurrected, but has since returned, except for me. Unlike their regard for me, which lacks excitement, they are in such awe of him. They treat him like a king, who can help them, and change their lot in life. He could give them anything. He could upgrade them. Of course Unrestricted people could help them too, but people assume Lowell is better at it. Nothing could be further from the truth. Manipulating the code doesn’t require an advanced computer science degree, but it does demand a level of understanding of how computers work. As a nomadic serial killer in life, who chose his victims by literally looking at them, he never needed a computer. He only ever had a flip phone, and in fact, never figured out how to turn it off. He could never keep track of the charger either, so whenever one died, he would just take another one out of his trunk. They were all burners, so he bought them in bulk, and only used them to order delivery.

Today, he tried to upgrade someone from Yellow to Green, so she could have her own place to live, but he accidentally downgraded her to Orange. It’s taken an executive order from me to get her out of Hock. “Again, please accept my deepest apologies for what you’ve endured.”

“It’s fine,” the victim, Paisley assures me.

“Still, in recompense for your troubles, please allow me to convert you to Level Seven, Elite. I promise you, nothing will go wrong this time. Since I’m new here, I’ll conscript an Unrestricted to do it for me, just to make sure it works.”

“No, really,” Paisley continues. “I can just go back to Limited. It’s fine.”

“I’m afraid I can’t do that,” I say. “It would reflect too poorly on me. I have to do something to remedy this error, so people don’t lose faith in me.”

She smiles kindly. “Okay.”

I look over my shoulder. “Gilbert.”

“Yes, madam, I’m ready.” Gilbert Boyce was a spawn before death, which means he wasn’t born with time powers, but was accidentally transformed by his enemy when that enemy tried to kill him the first time. That moment was so powerful that it actually rewrote Gilbert’s neurology, and turned him into the rarest kind of temporal manipulator. Pryce felt this entitled Gilbert to be an Unrestricted without earning it. The irony is that Gilbert used his power to operate against Pryce by coding a special section of the simulation where Pryce couldn’t detect him. My friends and I used this to formulate our escape plan. Well, they mostly used it. It was my job at the time to stay in the main simulation so I could spoof their respective individual codes, and prevent Pryce from getting suspicious.

“As you wish,” Paisley says respectfully.

Gilbert approaches her, and opens up the virtual toolbox. From there, he simply has to move a slider up or down. He could send her down to Black if he wanted, or even all the way up to his own level. He can’t resurrect her, which is one of the few restrictions that people like him have. He’s only supposed to make her Pink, but instead makes her Level Nine, World-Builder, which is only one level below him. “Whoopsie-doodles,” he says before closing the toolbox, and stepping back. “That can’t be undone.”

Paisley’s clothes turn from orange to gray.

“Yes, it can,” I contend.

“Oh, it can?” He asks, pretending not to know. “Hmm...weird.” He looks over into the aether. “What was that? Yes, I’ll be there right away. Sorry, gotta go. Sorry for my mistake.” He teleports away.

It was absolutely not a mistake, but I feel like it would be even shittier for me to downgrade her yet again, even though Elite is a perfectly acceptable level. Plenty of people here have been living as Elites for thousands of years with no complaints. Not everyone wants to alter the code, and build their own things. I’m not sure whether Paisley is one of these people, or if she’s more like Gilbert, who enjoys having the control.

Paisley looks nervous. “Okay, go ahead, put me right.”

“No,” I determine. “This is what’s happened, and this is how we’ll keep it. You are a world-builder now. I pull up a fake holographic tablet. “Here are the directions to Siva University, where experts will teach you how to code new simulations.”

“I don’t know if I want this.”

“Yes you do.” Lowell steps forward. “I’m good at reading people. You’re thrilled. It’s okay, you don’t have to feel bad about your ambition. I screwed up, and this is for your pain and suffering. Now, go to school so you can do something good with it.”

“Okay,” Paisley says. “Thank you.” She teleports away.

Lowell chuckles. “I can’t wait.”

“For what? To see what worlds she designs?”

“No, for the consequences. When people find out they can be upgraded just for being wrongfully downgraded, they’re gonna start looking for ways to be wrongfully downgraded.”

“Oh shit, I didn’t think of that.” I release a virtual sigh, and massage my virtual forehead. “Call a meeting. Mandatory. I need to speak with all the Unrestricteds. We have to make sure this doesn’t get out of control.”

“Let’s set up the meeting for later today,” Lowell counters. “There’s someone you should speak to first. I think you know who.”

Yes, I do.

I walk into the prison alone. The guards nod cordially as I pass through the barriers like they aren’t even there. I don’t even have to ask for visitation, because they know who I’m here to see. I just walk into the room, and find him waiting there with his personal security detail. “Here so soon?” he asks. “You must be desperate.”

“I just need some advice,” I tell him. “Nothing’s wrong yet, but I’m worried.”

“What have you done?”

“First, how are you doing?”

Pryce leans his head back, but not the rest of his body. “Well, it’s a whole lot less fun in here. Boring, I would say. I’m surviving, though.”

“I can give you pain patches,” I promise, “if you would just accept them.”

“You could also just turn on the violence inhibitors,” he argues.

“I can’t make too many changes too fast. You know this. It would cause psychological problems, even if the changes are objectively superior.”

“I like the pain,” he says. “And I kind of like being in here. Ya know, I spent decades in a real prison before I became the foremost expert in mind transference. It feels a little like home.”

I look over at his guard. Like Gilbert, Nerakali Preston was also a time traveler who was immediately assigned Unrestricted privileges upon her death. Her road to redemption was a long one, and she’s improved so much that she wants to complete some penance to make up for some of the things that she did while she was alive. This is her way of accomplishing that. She shares the cell with Pryce, and can’t leave unless she asks to be released permanently. Until then, she does wear pain patches so she can’t be harmed, and she keeps a close eye on Pryce for me. He’s obviously here for a reason, and I need to know what that reason is before it’s too late. “Report.”

“He doesn’t need pain patches either way,” she explains. “Nobody would dare hurt him. They think this is just some kind of publicity stunt, and that he can walk out of here just as easily as you walked in. They call him Hancock now, like that superhero-angel movie where the titular character does the same thing.”

“Is this true?” I ask him. “Are you Hancocking us?”

“As I recall, he didn’t get out until they let him out. But regardless, no.” He snaps the chest of his shirt. “These are real.” He pounds his fist on the table twice, demonstratively, and not violently. “And I can’t walk through walls.”

I don’t entirely believe him, but I move on. “Did you hear about the woman who was accidentally oranged?”

“Yeah, I saw her. She was only in here for, like, an hour.”

“It was thirty minutes at most,” I correct. “Anyway, I obviously had to fix it, so I called in a favor.”

“Lemme guess...Gilbert Boyce.”

He’s too smart. He’s literally too smart, I wish he were dumber. “Yes. He slid her all the way up to World-Builder.”

“And you’re worried that this is gonna start some trend, where people will find ways to game the system.” Yeah, way too smart.

“Yes, I’m meeting with the Unrestricted people to warn and prepare them for it.”

“Yeah, don’t do that.”

“Why shouldn’t I?”

“People don’t like to be told what to do, especially people with the power to reject the advice. You’re only gonna remind them just how powerful they are. The entire population is in the hands of a few hundred people. A few hundred people that you can’t control. Do you really want to talk to them about their power? Most are content just making goats that walk upside down midair, and undenary star systems. Don’t be putting ideas in their heads. When Alexander the Great reached Level Ten 700 years ago, I made an off-handed comment about how he could once more destroy civilizations. Asshole went to war, and took down four simulations before MacBeth managed to kill him with Alexander’s own zeroblade. That wasn’t even the worst thing that an Unrestricted has done.”

“What would you do? What would you do with another Alexander the Great if you didn’t have another MacBeth?”

Pryce narrows his eyes. “I told MacBeth how to steal the zeroblade. I had Alexander killed, to protect everyone else from him...and I had someone else do it to protect the system from the inevitable chaos that would result from me doing it myself.”

What he said before was right. Rules are necessary, even when they seem cruel or wrong. I don’t think I misjudged his character, but I’m already starting to see the reasoning behind some of his decisions. The crown is on my head now...and it’s heavy. Maybe I shouldn’t go back in time and save the exceptions. Maybe the consequences are worse than I can fathom now. “I’ve already called the meeting. It would be more suspicious if I cancelled it now.”

Pryce shrugs. “Hold the meeting then. Just say you wanted to acknowledge their status, and assure them that nothing will change. Or promise that the only changes will be better, I guess, I dunno. You can let them ask questions, but steer the conversation away from the incident, if you can. Be careful, though. Some of them are real smart.”

“Are you helping me?” I don’t ask him why are you helping me?, because I don’t know if that’s the case. What I do know is that he’s up to something.”

“I am,” Pryce says. “I want this place to succeed. I want you to succeed. I also want to be part of it, and if that means I have to spend a few centuries in here, I think it’s worth it.”

I leave him to be happy with being in prison, and head towards a special simulation that was designed specifically for Level Tens. No one else can access it, and it’s a cleanroom, where they can’t make alterations to the code. I stop at the entrance, and check my watch. There’s still time, which I should be using to come up with a good opening speech. No, instead of coming up with my own speech, how about I just have Abraham Lincoln write it for me?

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