Microstory 2669: I Thought it Felt Light

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From the shadows, Resi watches Speaker Lincoln wake up in the middle of the night in reaction to a notification. She blinks rapidly as her eyes adjust to the harsh light of her device. “I’ve stolen the Kidjum elixir,” she reads out loud. “What the hell? I never told you to do that,” she whispers loudly. She scrolls a little. “Someone hacked my account!” she complains to what she thinks is an empty room. She dials a number, and holds it up to her ear. “Get security to the Tadungeria lab. We have a breach. Aether is going off script.” She hangs up and rolls her nightgown up and over her head.

Resi taps on his own device, careful to not let the light give away his position yet.

Lincoln’s device dings again. “Oh my God.” She opens the drawer of her nightstand and takes out a gun. She checks the magazine to find it empty.

Only now does Resi flip on the lamp in the corner. He’s sitting comfortably in her armchair, trying to look menacing but authoritative. He saw this in a movie once. Actually, it’s been in a few movies. “The first to raise a hand in violence dips one foot in their grave,” he recites calmly.

Lincoln looks down at her half naked body. “You like what you see?”

“Relax, I’m asexual. Go ahead and cover up.”

She wraps herself in a robe. “You must have Bungula tech if you could teleport here that fast.” She jerked her chin towards the device that she tossed onto the bed. “I just read your message that you’re gonna poison me with an overdose of elixir.”

“You think I would order one of my people to do that in the same second that I decided to just do it myself? You got security all riled up for nothin’. No one from my House is anywhere near the Tadungeria. Your elixir is safe, and so are you, physically speaking. I won’t hurt you, but I wanna know why you’ve been impersonating me, and sending my people orders that I would never give. You want us to stop. You wanted to bring the Kidjums back, so why are you undermining those efforts?”

Lincoln breathes through her nose as she regards Resi with a facial expression that he is unable to read. She’s trying to look calm too, though. She thinks she’s still in control here. Bizarrely, she lets the robe drop from her shoulders again. She then starts to remove the rest of her clothing.

“I told you, I’m asexual. I feel nothing. Seducing me will not work.”

“I’m not trying to seduce you,” she explains as she’s crawling back into bed and neatly rearranging her belongings on the night stand. “I don’t have to tell you anything. I just need to let you step both feet into your own grave, which you have done quite nicely by breaking into my house tonight.”

“I’m having signals blocked. If the answers you give me are satisfactory, I’ll leave before anyone notices. It will be your word against mine. If you lie, I don’t know what will happen. I want to know why. It makes no sense. Do you want a fifth House, or not?”

“I don’t care about the houses,” she admits. “It’s an arbitrary stratification that most cultures don’t have and do just fine. Divide into fourths, divide into eights, just have one united peoples; it’s irrelevant. The total population is the same.”

“So the Kidjum is fake, and it’s all about control? Do you just want to decide who goes where? Worker bees versus drones, as long as the queen stays on top.”

She smirks. “It’s not fake. It’s not about control. It’s about human lives, and the Garden we were promised. The Kidjum is very real. It’s the easiest and most reliable way for us to know what you want. Everyone has a place, and everyone chooses. Again, it’s not about that. But anyway, I’m tired, and I just want to end it all. I won’t be answering any more of your questions. It’s your turn.”

He sighs and grunts. This isn’t doing any good, and who knows where they go from here? So he’s proved that she’s a bad guy? She didn’t do it on her own. Anyone or everyone on the Assembly could be a part of it. The best he can hope for is that the other two nations hear him out. Maybe they’re not a part of the conspiracy. Or maybe they are, and House Kutelin really does need to revolt. He’ll have to just go out and try his best. Staying here, listening to these lies and vague answers, isn’t going to pay off, so let’s be done with this quickly. “I’m an open book. I’ll answer any questions you like.”

“Have you ever fired a gun before?” she asks, picking hers back up, and sliding three of her fingers across it like it’s her pet.

“No, but I know that that’s a projectile weapon. It needs bullets, not a maser charge, or whatever. I already took the mag out, and checked for extras.”

She smiles and nods, still looking at it admiringly. “Did you check the chamber?”

He jumps up in fear, now remembering other movies, where yeah, the bullets aren’t only stored in one place. There’s also this other thing on the top. 

Instead of aiming it at him, she points it at the side of her own head, as far from her temple as her bent arm will reach, and squeezes the trigger. Blood goes everywhere.

He’s seen it in those movies before, but it’s a different thing, being in the room when it happens. He’s frozen, though he doesn’t know for how long. People don’t really die around here, except peacefully in their sleep, or in a hospital bed. They’re not immortals, like the colonists, but life is pretty safe. They’ve built out the infrastructure, and everyone knows what they’re doing. The Kidjum doesn’t just choose what you want, but what your mind knows it would be good at doing. Everyone is professional and skilled. That’s why he doesn’t know history and geography, because their nation doesn’t value those things. It places all of its focus on people who can get work done. If they need to know anything about how the universe works, they can ask the Bungulans. Leave science to people who’ve been doing it for millennia.

Why the shit is he thinking about any of this right now? They’re hauling him out of the bungalow by his upper arms. He’s not resisting, he just can’t move his legs on his own. He feels the splinters catch on his toes as they drag across the old front porch. They throw him into the wagon, and drive off. He realizes that they never bound his limbs. He could jump out, and run away. But where would he go? They would look for him at the dorms, and then his birth parents’ home. It’s an island, and it’s probably being locked all the way down. This is the first murder he’s ever heard of, so the whole planet is probably freaking out. He could try to swim it. How far is Anchor Island again? Only forty-some-odd kilometers? Easy, he could do that in one breath.

He’s in a hardback chair now. When did they pull him out of the wagon? They’re asking him questions. He can’t really hear them. They say something about already finding his prints on the gun, which makes sense, because he had to take that magazine out. The chamber. The goddamn chamber. How could he be so stupid? That’s why the action stars are always pulling that thing back while they’re making their snide remarks. He thought he had it all figured out. The honeypot was brilliant. His people were on the ball. Like he was saying...trained as professionals. He’s the one who screwed up, and it’s gonna land him in prison. House Kutelin will fall, and she’ll get away with it. Oh wait, no, she died. She killed herself. Why? Just to frame him? What an asshole.

Microstory 2439: Dome for Pioneers

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Ha! Dome for Pioneers. That’s so on the nose. That’s really what it is. You’re almost starting from scratch here. You don’t go all the way back to the beginning, like Paleodome, but you’re not provided with much. Like other lifestyle domes, you’re expected to stay here for an extended period of time, like years; not days, not even months. You’re here to get an idea of what life was like for people in 19th century New World. Everything you need is here, but you have to process it yourself. There’s wooded areas, arid desert, prairies, some small lakes (maybe ponds?) and rocks. They dress you in very simple clothes that look like they’re handmade, but I’m guessing they weren’t really. They give you a metal bucket, a few basic tools, and one wagon per ten or eleven people I think? I don’t remember what they said. If you have too few people, you don’t even get a wagon. There are some cows of some kind wandering around nearby, so if you do get one of the wagons, you have to put those two things together yourself. Good luck, dude, I actually think they’re real cows. While they’re not aggressive, they don’t want you tying ropes to them, and do you even know how to put a cow before a wagon? Didn’t think so. It’s the year 2500, we don’t have to do stuff like that anymore. That’s what’s so interesting about this place. If you wanted to know how the real pioneers survived with what little they had, and while enduring everything they had to, you had to have done your research ahead of time. There is no education here. I understand what they were going for, but that was probably a mistake. There should be a museum where they give you such education, not so you’re better equipped, but so you have a real appreciation for what you’ll experience in the simulation. What were their goals? What mistakes did they make? What kind of class divide was there, if any? I mean, you could turn your lot into a mountain man survivalist situation, and stay there for just as long, but that’s not what the pioneers were trying to do. They were digging in, founding towns, making a legacy for themselves. If people start using it right, given enough time, it’s possible that Dome for Pioneers might have to change its name to Dome for an Extremely Advanced Civilization. All the tools are there, it will just take time for us to relearn how to use them, just like our ancestors did. I think that it’s a really interesting social experiment. I just think it might not accomplish the right goals if management doesn’t guide the narrative in a proper direction. But don’t listen to me, I’m nobody.

The Advancement of Mateo Matic: September 10, 2398

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It actually was helpful when Erlendr told Alyssa that she would be forty-two kilometers from the center of the island. Relatively speaking, that’s not too far from where the Capitol is, and if she has to walk the entire way, it’s going to take her a long time. That’s what she did all day yesterday. She snacked on the rations on the way, and only stopped to pee. She kept in contact with Leona and Mateo through her earpiece, which is working flawlessly. Everything is reportedly going fine on their end. They didn’t stay where they were, instead deciding to walk along the barrier, all the way up to a campground around where Smithville Lake should be. Part of it made it within the radius of the bubble, but most of it was not duplicated, and is just ocean. They walked through plenty of grass to get there, but that wasn’t the point. There is a non-zero chance that bodies of water serve as loopholes to the barrier, so they’re going to try today when the sun gets higher.

Alyssa found an abandoned house to stay in for the night. It wasn’t a difficult task as they are all over the place. These buildings are ancient by today’s standards. Most people live near the center now, in superstructures that are far more efficient, and environmentally friendly. This is a closed ecosystem with no resources available for import, so protecting what little they have is important. They have let the wild reclaim these areas for the most part. She hasn’t even seen a single soul since she crossed the threshold. Until now. She’s passing through an empty parking lot, distracted by the eerie sight of the towering rides at the amusement park that the residents don’t waste their energy on anymore. The bridge is only five kilometers away. She hears a noise, but doesn’t realize what it might be until it comes into a view. It’s a horse-drawn wagon. It looks new, not like it was found and recycled, but built for use in the modern day. The back is filled with some kind of grain, and only one man is on it.

She’s sick of walking, and if all he’s doing is going across the river then that will at least give her a break. Now, she could probably sneak onto the wagon, and hitch a ride without him noticing, but what happens the next time she has to sneeze, or accidentally bumps against the walls? He looks like a nice enough person, perhaps he can be trusted. She runs over to some trees before dropping her invisibility illusion, and then comes out, trying to appear as nonthreatening as possible. Let’s see, how might a farmer in another reality talk? Anything like her people would? “Morning, friend! I was hopin’ to trouble you for a ride into town!”

“What are ya doin’ all the way out here, Miss?” he asks, stopping his horse.

“I was on an urban hike,” she says, turning her shoulders a little to show her daypack. “I went a little farther than I was originally plannin’. Now I’m straight tired.”

“Where exactly you headed?”

Leona comes in through the earpiece, “don’t tell him you’re going to the Capitol. There’s a residence near it called the Parkview Megablock. Say you live there.”

“I live in the Parkview Megablock,” she goes on.

“I’m not goin’ that far West. “I’m distributing wheat at the Blue Valley Market.”

“That’s a big area. No way to know exactly where the market is. Tell him that’s fine, and to just drop you off at twelfth.”

“If you could just drop me off at twelfth street, I would much appreciate it.”

He waits to respond, hopefully weighing his options, and not picturing her with her clothes off. “Hop on in.” He scoots over on the bench to give her room. “Name’s Buck on account of the fact that I’m the last resident of Buckner, Missouri.”

“Umm...Jessie. Jessie James.”

He nods, but might still realize she’s lying. If he does, he’s not saying anything. They make the occasional remark to each other on the way, but mostly sit in silence. She enjoys watching the horse’s head go up and down as it trudges along the road. It reminds her of home. It seems to take them longer than she would have thought, but she’s not all that familiar with Kansas City, especially not in this reality. Now she sees that there’s a reason Leona called it a megablock. She finds them surrounded by tall structures, much wider than a skyscraper. Each one looks like it covers the distance of several blocks. Through the earpiece, she explains that they’re self-sustainable and carfree, and can accommodate tens of thousands of people. Some of them have storefronts on the ground floor on the outside, but others are gated up. That’s all just a generalization of what a megablock is; the Fourth Quadrant version of Kansas City has their own socio-political framework that she doesn’t know too well.

“Here we go.” Buck stops the wagon.

Here she sees some real skyscrapers. “Thanks, I’ll walk home from here.”

“If you really wanna go to Parkview, it’s about a mile that way. He points back the way they came.”

“We passed it?” she questions as she’s getting out of the wagon.

“If you lived there, you’d a’ noticed. You’re trying to go to the Capitol, though.”

“I’m sorry?”

Buck taps at his ear. “Superhearing implant. I can hear your associate on your comms. It’s okay, I know you were trying to be safe. I am too. You’re obviously on some kind of operation, which is why I lied about who I am, and where I’m from. I suspect you’re from pretty far away, or else you’d know that Buckner is on this side of the river.”

“I just don’t know who to trust.”

He nods, and engages his horse, who starts to walk away slowly. “Like I said, I understand. You don’t gotta worry about me. I don’t know nothin’.” He rolls away.

She watches him go for a minute. “Which building is it?”

“Tallest one that isn’t incredibly tall. It’s a normal skyscraper, like what you’re used to,” Leona explains.

Alyssa steps into an alleyway for cover, then reëmerges invisible. She walks right into the building, slipping through unnoticed as someone else is coming out. She walks over to the elevators, and tries to go to the top floor, but the button won’t light up, presumably because it requires an access card. It just defaults to the thirty-ninth floor. She tries to press the other buttons, but the thirty-ninth button blinks every time, and then stays on. It’s the only one she’s allowed to go to. At least it’s relatively close. “What’s on this floor?” she whispers as she waits for the ride to end.

“I don’t know,” Leona replies. “I didn’t know anyone would have superhearing implants either, so we better go radio silent. You’re gonna have to improvise, okay? That might mean revealing yourself. Can you handle this?”

She’s determined to get her sister back. “Yes.”

“Click your tongue five times to signal you need help.”

The doors open, letting Alyssa out to a hallway. There is a door to her left, and one to her right. Then all the way down at the end is another door. The first two don’t open, so she keeps going. Nervous, she turns the knob, and enters the room. An old woman is lying in a hospital bed, and a man in a lab coat is nearby, monitoring the medical equipment.

“Hello?” the old woman asks, staring at the ceiling, and not moving. “Is somebody there?”

The doctor looks over. “The door opened on its own, Señora Rendón. I don’t see anyone, it must have been a draft.”

Alyssa quietly steps over to the bed, and takes a look at the patient’s chart. Trina Rendón. “Trina?”

“Hello?” the woman asks again.

“Who’s there?” The doctor gets in a defensive position.

Alyssa drops the illusion, and comes into view. “Alyssa McIver. My sister’s name is Trina.”

“Aly,” the patient says with joy in her voice. “You’ve come to see me off.”

“What is the meaning of this?”

The doctor sighs. “Miss McIver, this is your sister. She’s older now, but it’s her.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Let’s talk in the hallway.” The doctor leads her back out. “I don’t have the whole story, I’m just here to treat her pain. From what I’ve heard, your sister, Trina came to the main world sharing a body with someone else. They used technology to separate them, and give her a new body. It was, I think, modeled on what Trina looked like before. Umm...I don’t know what she did with her life, but she lived it. She came to us two years ago—somehow found a way into the bubble—and I’ve been in charge of her medical needs ever since.”

Alyssa looks at the door. “Is this hospice?”

“I’m a hospice doctor, yes.”

“So she’s dying.”

“Yes.”

“But you can fix her.”

He hesitates a moment. “Señora Rendón has refused life extension treatment beyond Level II.”

“I don’t know what that means.”

“On a scale between zero and five, the second level allows for generalized scientific medication, but not targeted medication, death-inhibiting therapies, or indefinite life extension technologies. She has let us keep her alive, but only to a point.”

That can’t be the end of the story. There has to be a way to undo this. “You can reverse aging, right? Or someone can. Your world has all sorts of technology.”

“Technically, yes, but I wouldn’t recommend it. She has experienced all those years. She’s not a child anymore,” he explains. “I’m sure it’s hard for you to wrap your head around this, but she has been able to tell us stories. She grew up, and she met someone, and they had children. They’re here, if you’d like to meet them, but you should speak with Trina first. She can explain it better, and she doesn’t have much time. I think she knew you were coming, and she was waiting.”

“You’ll regret it if you don’t go,” Leona warns.

Alyssa wants to, but she can’t convince her legs to move. Sensing this, the doctor physically helps her through, so the two McIver sisters can have one last conversation.