Microstory 2499: Outer System

< > Table of Contents

Generated by Google Flow text-to-video AI software, powered by Veo 3, with music by MusicFX text-to-audio AI software

This is it, baby! This is what we’ve been waiting for! This is why people are colonizing worlds outside of the Stellar Neighborhood. We still have rules, but you could never do what we’re doing. This is decidedly not a dome. It’s the furthest and farthest you can be from a dome while still being in the star system. When I was a kid, there were so many space operas, and regardless of their premise—no matter how peaceful the protagonists wanted to be—space fighting was always, always a thing. Then reality set in. The only way that our civilization was able to develop enough to build the kinds of ships that they use in science fiction is by working together. Well, perhaps the construction of them itself wouldn’t have been slowed down, but the scale of them, and the speed at which we have expanded into the galaxy...that would have been virtually impossible. We had to put our petty conflicts to the side, and move on as a united front. Almost zero ships these days are built with weapons. Eight-year-old me would not have believed it, but really, what the hell do you need a gun for? Everyone around you is a friend. Even Teagarden, which is literally the military capital of the neighborhood, doesn’t make all that many ships. They focus on research and development, and distribution and management of orbital defense systems. I’m not saying that I wish we were at war, but I did kind of hope that I would one day be in a space battle, fighting for justice, and protecting the innocent. Since then, I’ve been getting my kicks through VR, and that’s been great; you can do anything there. But now we have something real. It took years for them to establish a presence in the outer system, but we’re here now, and holy shit, is it fun. You choose your side, and fight in battles, and the best part about it is that you can’t die! Sure, you can blow up, or get shot, but you’ll just come back to life in the nearest respawn station. That is a big rule, by the way; don’t forget it. You are not allowed to damage a respawn station. Fortunately, because space battles are chaotic, and people make mistakes, these things have incredible defensive capabilities. If you even point your weapon towards one, that weapon will just seize up. You won’t get in trouble as long as there is no reason to suspect that you were doing it on purpose. Besides, those are really far away, mostly planetside, so I don’t want to worry you, or nothin’. As far as the fighting itself, I’ve never felt so alive. It’s so immersive, and the story is so believable. They basically came up with a new history, since humanity’s real history never led to any real space wars, and if they did, it would probably be distasteful to trivialize it here. That’s why it works, because unlike games centered on war in the past, we feel so distant from it, since people are no longer dying from genuine conflict. The best part about this scenario is that space is mind-bogglingly big, and even though I’m certain they’ll want to keep the activities in-system, there’s more than enough room to have multiple battles simultaneously, perhaps originating from entirely unrelated backstories. If you’ve ever wanted to fight in base reality without any real consequence—for you, or your opponents—here’s your chance. Don’t waste it. Which side will you choose?

Microstory 2495: Kingdom of Aksum

< > Table of Contents

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

I won’t get into too many historical details, because if you’re interested in such information, you would probably prefer to hear it on the tour, and if this stuff bores you, I doubt there’s anything I could say to change your mind. The Kingdom of Aksum existed between the first and seventh centuries in the common era. It was a powerful and meaningful region of international trade at the time. In fact, they relied so heavily on being in the center of everything that, when power shifted to other cultures, Aksum couldn’t keep up. Spoiler alert, they ultimately collapsed over the course of many years due to emigration to more fertile lands, war, and plague. All the usual suspects. Unlike other civilizations, however, you can’t really point to a single event, or even a short period of time, which served as the turning point. It just gradually declined in importance. Its ancestors are still alive today, whether or not they are aware of, or place any significant emphasis, on this long-forgotten heritage. There is a lot that we don’t know about life in the Kingdom, and of course, it changed over the centuries. The lands where it once stood are still there, and I believe there are a few arcologies in the region still. The memory of it, however, has unfortunately faded, and that’s thanks to a much stronger focus on European culture and history. For many of our ancestors, the nations of Africa were backwards, uncultured, and irrelevant. How many were there who didn’t know—or couldn’t admit—that various regions of Africa served as both the seed of human life, and the heart of civilization? We’re all from there, and so I would argue that the Kingdom of Aksum is everyone’s story. In the spirit of this reality, I urge you to educate yourself on its history, even if it doesn’t mean going to visit this dome. I still definitely recommend coming here. It’s a great replica of what the region would have looked like back then. You can’t find it in the simulations. Trust me, I checked the virtual stacks. It’s not that it wouldn’t be possible, but people are more concerned with replicating the Firefly / Serenity star system, and The Flying Forest, which is just a regular forest where you feel intoxicated. I shouldn’t judge. I should just be grateful that it exists in any form. I learned so much here, and I know you will too if you just give it a chance.

Microstory 2491: Military Dome

< > Table of Contents

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

Historians can’t agree on when it happened, but humanity stopped fighting wars against each other a few hundred years ago. We didn’t have this big meeting to say, “hey, let’s stop doing this.” We had lots of little agreements over the course of our shared history, which eventually led to a persistent peacetime. Still, the threat never really goes away. Disparate factions must be ready to protect their interests, and honestly, while I think most of us don’t believe in aliens, the possibility remains of a true external opposition. I mean, Castlebourne itself is not a member of the stellar neighborhood. It’s in a unique position in that it holds a very strong connection to The Core, but it does not have to follow the same laws, and conflict could arise. This is even more true of the other Charter worlds—which are even less connected to our origins—and outer bands of colonization. As our descendants develop too far away from us to share our ideals, and even our biology, we might find ourselves in wartime once more. Castlebourne recognizes this, which is why they have formed a military force. Don’t be afraid, however, as it is 100% voluntary. You don’t have to even pledge any sort of loyalty when you visit this planet. The only people who serve on the force are those who want to, and they are being trained to protect you, whether you believe in their cause, or not. I won’t give away any of our secrets, but we are rapidly becoming as advanced as Teagarden. We’re developing all the latest tech, and making all the necessary precautions. We don’t actually have to be that big to defend the planet. We’re growing so we can potentially use our numbers to defend other territories for the less fortunate, or more modestly equipped. We don’t wanna become an interstellar police force, mind you. We don’t have our hearts set on galactic domination. But if someone wants to join, we’re not going to reject them because we’re at some arbitrary capacity. There are some stipulations if you join that I’ll go over briefly, but if you’re serious about serving, you’ll want to read more in depth material. I’ll reiterate that number one is that it’s voluntary. It’s important to emphasize that because of my second point, which is that once you do join, and are officially accepted, there is a minimum service commitment, which depends on what role you perform, but the shortest term I’ve ever heard of is two years. No one is expected to make a lifelong commitment, but I believe very high ranking officials have to sign up for ten or twenty years. As virtual immortals, this may not sound like much, but the days will add up. Don’t enlist if you just want to test the waters. That’s not what we’re doing here. It’s real life, and you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do, unless that is, you sign on that dotted line. Then you follow orders. So be sure.

The Advancement of Mateo Matic: July 27, 2509

« < » > Table of Contents

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

Boyd managed to convince the group to stay one more day so he could shore things up with his people. It wasn’t that tall of an order, and they figured it was the least they could do. This was some kind of alternate version of Castlebourne, and once they were gone, what would become of it? Would Pacey make an effort to keep it running, or would these AI androids just start to degrade and wither away? Ethics demanded them to do what they could while they were still around to try.

Come midnight central, everyone jumped forward to the future, including Romana and Boyd. They immediately made their way back down to the vactrain, and navigated it to Castledome. Unlike last time, nothing went wrong, and they actually reached their intended destination. It wasn’t flooded or on fire. They just stepped out, and waited for Octavia to find what she was looking for. The way she was feeling around on the tiles of the train station made it seem like a platform nine and three-quarters type of situation. If there was a way to cross back and forth between these two versions of Castlebourne, it couldn’t be something that any rando could stumble upon accidentally. She couldn’t seem to find the right tile, though, so she started tapping on every one of them one by one. Perhaps the special sequence was different on either side.

While they were waiting, Mateo, Leona, and Olimpia wandered over to the other side of the ring, and fully into the dome. Mateo hoped to have a personal conversation about their relationship, but Leona tilted her head clear down to her shoulder, struck by something surprising. “What is it?” he asked.

She kept staring at the castle in the distance. Finally, she said, “it’s a mirror.”

“What’s a mirror, honey?” Olimpia asked.

“I can’t believe I didn’t notice it in any of the other domes. Look at the castle. It’s flipped.” Leona pointed. “That spire should be on the other side.”

“Oh yeah, you’re right.”

Leona’s eyes widened. She powerwalked right back through the ring, and into the station where Octavia was still trying to find the secret entrance. She went over to the opposite wall, and tapped the tiles in the same order that Octavia had when she made her first attempt.

The tube sealed up, and they heard the rush of wind indicating the train that they had taken here was now gone. Then the weird part happened. With more rushing wind, the two halves of the vacuum tube separated from each other, split down the middle where the doors once met. As a cloud of gas filled the space left behind, a second set of doors materialized, identical to the first. They then opened, triggering the rematerialization of the tube as well. Inside the pod—which was much smaller than the usual train car—was Pacey, standing there as cool as an autumn day.

“Can we go?” Mateo asked Pacey.

Pacey smirked. “I dunno. Can they?” he posed to Octavia.

She separated herself from the group, and stepped closer to Pacey, but did not step into the vacpod. “I think we’ve made our main point, but they’re not done learning.”

“Ah, crap. Really?” Mateo questioned. “Friends become enemies? What the hell did we ever do to you?”

Octavia smirked now too. “It’s not about friends becoming enemies, Matt. It’s about enemies becoming friends.” She nodded ever so slightly towards Boyd.

Mateo turned his head towards Boyd quite dramatically. “This whole thing has been about this guy?”

“You need him,” Pacey explained. “Bronach is too powerful to defeat without someone equally powerful.”

“But him?” Mateo pressed. “I mean...maybe Arcadia, or something.”

“Arcadia is not that big of a deal,” Octavia contended. “She gets most of her power by conscripting others, and keeping them behind the proverbial curtain, so it looks like it’s all her. Boyd operates on his own.”

“That’s the problem,” Leona countered. “He’s not a team player.”

“I know hundreds of homo floresiensis bots who would beg to differ,” Pacey reasoned.

“I was being tested too,” Boyd realized.

“Did it teach him to stop being such a pervert?” Mateo asked.

“Oh,” Octavia said dismissively. “Your daughter’s hot. Stop acting like everyone should pretend that they don’t see that. Plus, she’s well into adulthood. She just aged, like two years, right before your eyes. She makes her own choices.”

“Paige would never do this,” Leona said. “Who are you?”

“I am Paige,” Octavia insisted. “I’m just one who’s been through some shit. You’ve led multiple lives. You know what I’m talking about. I did this for you, so you could end it. Soon enough, the Exin Army is going to find their way to Castlebourne, and everything that Team Kadiar worked for will be wiped out in an afternoon, along with millions of totally unsuspecting visitors from Earth, and the rest of the stellar neighborhood. You can’t stop their advance, but you can end the Oaksent regime. The empire is a mess of factions, not because they disagree with each other, but because it’s designed to be compartmentalized. Use that to your advantage. Confuse them, and neutralize them.” She took a breath, and glanced around at the station. “This world is a playground. Some of the domes that we mirrored from the original are dumb, like Heavendome. Others are for relaxation, like Raindome, so you can take your breaks there. The rest are training facilities. That crystal goes both ways. Instead of putting someone else on your pattern, it can take you off. Stay here, keep practicing. Prepare yourselves for the Ex Wars. The train will still be waiting for you when you’re ready.”

“I don’t like to be tricked,” Ramses said to her.

“A necessary component of the lesson,” Octavia claimed.

“A faulty one,” Ramses argued. “We didn’t go looking for Boyd because we wanted him on our team. We went there because your boyfriend told us that we had to. So what’s the real lesson? That you’re the powerful ones here? If that’s true, then okay, but...I’m not sure how that would help us end a war.”

Octavia and Pacey seemed decidedly stumped. “However flawed our plan might have been,” Pacey said, “he’s here now, and I don’t see you ringing his neck.”

Ramses winced. “Well, we can be civil; we’re not savage animals.”

“That’s all it is?” Octavia asked. “You don’t see any good in him, even now?”

“I didn’t say that,” Ramses replied.

“All right, all right, all right. Your pitch is over,” Leona determined. She turned to address the team. “We’re gonna vote on what we wanna do. Will we stay here and train?” she asked with airquotes. “Or will we get our powers and patterns back, and go back out to do whatever we want in normal space?” She looked over her shoulder at Pacey. “Including everything we need to use our tandem slingdrives.”

Pacey shrugged his shoulders, closed his eyes, and nodded.

Leona went on, “all in favor of staying here for an indeterminate amount of time?”

No one raised their hands.

“All in favor of leaving this place behind with our respective toolboxes.”

Everyone raised their hands, except one.

“Boyd, are you abstaining?” Leona asked him.

He’s surprised that she even said his name. “I get a vote?”

“Yes,” she said.

“Yeah, I—I wanna go. I don’t need to stay any longer.”

“Okay, cool.” Leona clapped her hands. She bent over to take the crystal out of her bag, then held it out between herself and Pacey. “I don’t care how this thing works. Just undo what you did. Put us back the way we belong.”

Neither Pacey nor Octavia made a move.

“Are you still holding onto our agency?” Leona questioned.

“No,” Pacey said, disappointed. “But it can’t be done here. Turning off the crystal is fairly simple, though not necessarily obvious. It holds a tremendous amount of temporal energy. You need to block that energy. What do you know blocks that?”

“Lemons?” Olimpia suggested.

A few of them kind of laughed.

Pacey smiled. “She’s right. Dunking it in a bowl of citrus juice would do it. But if you want to exercise some control over what it does—and you don’t want an explosion—you need the harmonic equivalent to citrus.”

“The sound of lemons?” Olimpia pressed.

“Yeah, in a way. Boyd knows what I’m talkin’ ’bout.”

They all looked at Boyd who was a little awkward about it. “There was music involved in one scenario when I was trying to find a way to transport the Buddha’s hand citron to the future. It’s hard to explain, but they converted the genome sequence to sound, and that allowed it to be...it doesn’t matter. All DNA can be translated to music. You just need to pick a reasonable method, and be consistent with it. There are multiple methods, though. Dave had to find the right one for—Pacey, do you want us to use the same method, or what?”

“That’s up to you to decide,” Pacey answered.

“Does that mean that any method will do,” Angela pressed, “or is this another challenge?”

“That’s up to you to decide,” Pacey repeated.

“Great. Boyd, you’ll be our expert,” Leona said. “These two are no help.”

Boyd scoffed. “I wasn’t actually involved in generating the music,” Boyd started to clarify. “I was the boss. Making someone else figure it out for me was part of the thrill. I just heard the highlights afterwards. Which is how I know that playing the entire piece from start to finish will take something like two years.”

“You mean...two days?” Marie asked with a smile.

“Let’s just get back to the real world, and then we’ll make a plan,” Mateo suggested. “There’s nothing for us here.” He then looked directly at Pacey, and added, “if you wouldn’t mind...”

Pacey obliged, stepping out of the vacpod, and off to the side.

“Are you two, like, a thing?” Mateo went on while everyone else was stepping into the pod.

Pacey and Octavia exchanged a look. “Just because we work together, and have the same goals, doesn’t mean we’re hooking up.”

“That’s why I asked,” Mateo retorted. “Because I didn’t know the answer. Don’t be so defensive. You’re the antagonists in this situation, you know that, right? If someone were to write this tale down in a history textbook with any semblance of accuracy, the students would not be rooting for you. Whether the ends justify the means or not, most people don’t like dirty means.” Amidst their silence, he deftly stepped backwards into the pod too. “Just remember that the next time you come across someone you think needs to be taught a lesson.” The doors closed with perfect timing, sending them away and home. Hopefully, that is.

The pod stopped, and the doors reopened. A blackness came flooding in. Dark particles immediately swarmed all around them. Now that Octavia no longer needed Mateo’s protection, he redirected it. He wrapped his arms around Boyd’s body, and endowed him with his EmergentSuit nanites. Everyone else was able to just activate their own suits. They couldn’t talk, though—not in this world. They had to rely on their long histories with each other, and their empathic connections. The other six huddled around Mateo and Boyd. They engaged their tandem slingdrives, and dispatched them all to real, normal space.

Mateo fell straight to the floor, coughing uncontrollably. It felt like the dark particles had entered his body, which didn’t sound possible. According to Ramses, they were just neutrinos, which couldn’t interact with regular matter. Whatever was causing it, he couldn’t stop it, and neither could anyone else. He just kept coughing and coughing until he either passed out or died. He couldn’t tell which.

« < » > Table of Contents

The Seventh Stage: Foundation Rock (Part VII)

« < » > Entire Story

Generated by Google Flow text-to-video AI software, powered by Veo 3

Echo and Clavia both teleport out of the water, leaving every molecule of it behind, even the drops clinging to their skin, so they’re completely dry now, on the ground. They also apport clothes around their bodies so they can continue the conversation. “Aristotle Al-Amin,” Echo begins, “son of Maqsud.”

“That’s right,” Aristotle says. He was leaning against a tree. He pops himself off it, and saunters around, vaguely in their direction.

“You’re the one who made the Sixth Key?” Clavia asks.

“I didn’t make it,” he clarifies. “I did transport everyone to it, though.”

“How did you do that?” Andrei asks, still piloting the original Clavia body.

“A magician never reveals his secrets,” Aristotle answers anticlimactically.

“That’s okay,” Echo decides. “The only question is, can you do it again? Mostly the same people, and their descendants. Comparatively, the population isn’t all that much higher, and they’re all in the same place now, going to the same place. Here, actually. But. We also have to figure out who wants to go, and who doesn’t. They’re getting a choice this time.”

Aristotle nods like he knows something they don’t, which he surely does. He continues to pace around a little, admiring the peaceful surroundings. “I should clarify, I didn’t do it alone. I had enormous help, from a god.”

“Some people call us gods,” Andrei says.

Aristotle’s eyes dart over to him, but he doesn’t move his head. “You may be gods in this universe, but I spoke with those who live on a higher plane of existence. Now, that doesn’t mean we need them this time. Maybe you could supply the power instead. I don’t know who any of you are. All I know is that I can’t do it at the scale you’re asking for without some serious might.”

“Well, how did you contact these higher gods?” Clavia asks.

“A special term sequence that you input in a Nexus,” Aristotle answers.

“Can you remember the sequence?” Clavia presses.

Aristotle snorts as he laughs. “Yeah, I think I can recall.”

They stare at him blankly.

“It’s one glyph long,” he clarifies.

“Then why doesn’t everybody do it?” Andrei asks him.

“Because it’s only one glyph,” Aristotle reiterates. “Most people don’t think to even try it, because most term sequences are longer. Besides, it can only be used once at any given Nexus, and if you’ve ever done it before, you can’t do it again. You can tag along, but you won’t get another wish. If we go this route, I won’t be able to do it, because mine has already been asked and answered.”

“A wish?” Clavia questions. “Are they gods, or genies?”

“Both, I guess. They don’t use either of those words. They just have names.”

Andrei looks around. “Does anyone know of a Nexus in the Sixth Key that might be so rarely used that no one has tried this oddly simple single-glyph term sequence? Can you even call it a sequence?”

Echo shakes his head as he’s beginning to walk away. “No need to find a needle in a haystack. I’ll just conjure a new needle.” He waves his arms. The trees before him sink into the ground as if it’s made of mud. Once the clearing has formed, an artificial cube materializes atop it. It looks just like any other Nexus, on the outside, and once they step inside, they find it to be typical there as well.

Aristotle looks around. “Are you sure you need my help to do what you ask, or the gods’ help? Might wanna save your wish if you can. As I said, you only get one.”

“No, we know we can’t do it,” Clavia explains. “But that’s a good question. Which one of us should go and ask?”

Aristotle shrugs. “We can all go. It’s one question each. The only thing is, whoever literally inputs the sequence can’t ever do it again. Just like the wish itself, I’m disqualified for that too.”

“I’ll handle it,” Echo volunteers. They all step down into the cavity. “Which is it?”

“Zero-enter,” Aristotle replies. “We’re going to a place called Origin.”

Echo kicks the glyph that translates to zero, and then the enter button. Technicolors rain down from the drum above, and spirit them away.

They find themselves on a dock, floating on a dark and mysterious ocean. It’s eerie, but beautiful. They feel safe here, like nothing can or will hurt them. A rowboat approaches. A person steps out of it, and ties it on. “Welcome to Origin. My name is Senona Riggur.” They turn their head to look at Aristotle. “You’re back. You know the rules, though.”

“Of course,” Aristotle answers. “I’m just their guide.”

Senona turns back to address the other three, but ends up focusing on Andrei in particular. “There are more here than there appears to be.”

Andrei is surprised. “Uh, yeah. We are six in one.”

Senona breathes deeply, and considers the situation. “Six consciousnesses, one body. Six wishes.”

“We appreciate the accommodation,” Andrei says with a slight bow. “That’s very magnanimous of you. A lesser god would not see it that way.”

Senona laughs. “We don’t use that term. Anyway, it’ll make it easier for us to talk if I separate you out first.” They lift their hand, and wave it towards the Clavia body. It disappears, only to be instantly replaced by Ingrid Alvarado, Onyx Wembley, Killjlir Pike, Andrei Orlov, Ayata Seegers, and Debra Lovelace. They’re all in their own bodies, just like they’ve wanted for so long.

And they’re surprised too. They inspect their new substrates, confirming with each other without speaking that they all look exactly as they’re meant to. “Whose wish was that?” Ingrid asks.

Senona is taken aback. “That wasn’t a wish. That was just...maintenance. You still have six.” They address the group as a whole. “To clarify, there are eight qualifiers here. You get eight wishes. You don’t really have to decide whose is whose. I’ve had people come here in groups who collectively all want the same thing, so it’s been more collaborative than individual. It’s all up to you. To further clarify, it’s not magic. What I just did for you, I did with the aid of someone with the tools to make it happen. Just because you can imagine it, doesn’t mean there is anyone in the bulkverse with the requisite tools. If I cannot accomplish what you ask, we’ll work together, and determine something that I can. You have all the time in the world to come up with your ideas.”

“A benevolent god,” Clavia decides.

“A benevolent person,” Senona corrects, “with, as I said, a set of tools. My tools are to find other people’s tools. I sense great power in all of you. I ask, on the side, that you make yourselves available to lend your talents to me in the pursuit of other people’s wishes. I don’t demand it of you, but it would be appreciated.”

“Maybe this is where we’re supposed to be,” Echo whispers to Clavia.

“Maybe,” she whispers back.

“Can we ask questions without them being wishes?” Onyx pipes up.

“Sure!” Senona agrees.

“His wish.” Onyx jerks his head towards Aristotle. “How’d you do it? And can you do it again?”

“Oh, that. I hooked him up with one of the most powerful entities in the bulk. You call me a god...”

“You did?” Aristotle asks. “I don’t remember that.”

“You wouldn’t,” Senona contends. “You didn’t actually meet him. I more just passed the message along.”

“Who was it?”

Senona smiles, but doesn’t answer.

“I think I know who you’re talking about,” Clavia guesses. She too doesn’t say it out loud, though. It would explain everything. He has omnipotent power over everything that happens in Salmonverse, all of its child universes, and reportedly a number of other branes beyond those. It’s a bit of a deus ex machina for him to exercise that control to the degree he needed to in order to make the Reconvergence happen, and to rescue everyone from four of the five original realities. So it’s unclear why he wouldn’t simply make it a non-issue, but she can’t question his judgment, lest he use his authority against her in some way.

It’s probably for the best that she not investigate further, the man she’s talking about concurs from his bed on a Thursday night. The only question now is whether he would be willing to do it again. Honestly, he’s still debating it.

Okay, it’s been a few hours for him, and he’s ready with his decision, but they’re not going to be happy about it. They’ll do it, though, because that’s what it’s going to take to end the Reality Wars once and for all. Senona receives his message telepathically, and they don’t like it either. “That is not how it works here. It goes against the spirit of everything that we’ve built.”

It’s a sacrifice.

“It’s unreasonable!” they shout back.

It’s too big for one wish.

“Someone once asked me for a sandwich!” Senona argues.

That one was too small for a wish. I can’t control their choices.

“You literally can!”

“Should we try to help?” Killjlir offers.

“Shh,” Ingrid warns. “It’s far too dangerous for us to get involved.”

“It’s not just about the number of wishes,” Senona goes on. “You’re asking them to leave everything they’ve ever known behind. You’re asking them to never see their loved ones again.”

They all hail from a universe where death is less profound, and more of a joke. From my perspective, as much as I’ve put them through, they’ve had it easy. Everyone I’ve ever known has either died for good, or will relatively soon. I shed no tears for these people, and neither should you. Are you going to do it, or make eight sandwiches instead?

Senona frowns with a level of rage that they have not felt in a long time. “I’ve had enough of your editorializing. You can stop inserting yourself into the story, thank you very much. I’ll talk to them myself.” They take a breath, centering themselves. “Based on the half of the conversation that you could hear, I’m sure that you can mostly guess what the stipulations are for your wish. He’s turned me into a liar, because if you ask for the wish that we’ve already discussed, you won’t get seven more. You won’t get any more. This one wish counts for all eight.”

“We understand,” Echo says. “It’s up to the whole group, though. It must be unanimous. Even Debra has to agree.”

“That’s not all,” Senona goes on. “You can’t live there, in your new universe. You can’t live in Salmonverse either, or any of its other offshoots, in fact. You’ll either be staying here, or going somewhere else.”

“Can we...stick together?” Ayata asks, glancing over at her love, Andrei.

“Truthfully, I don’t know,” Senona says. “I’ve become little more than a mouthpiece. It’s all up to him this time. And he reserves the right to change his mind at any time.”

“What a dick,” Debra muses.

“Debra! Jesus Christ!” Clavia shouts. “You’re gonna get us all killed!”

“He wouldn’t do that,” Debra dismisses it with a flick of her hair.

Senona clears their throat. “I’m receiving a new message. I’m told to ask if any of you know someone by the name of Ezqava ‘Effigy’ Eodurus.”

No, they all answer in one way, or another.

“He says...exactly.” Senona finishes.

Echo literally shivers.

They’re all tired of arguing about this, so they put it to a vote. To everyone’s surprise, what they figured would only be the first attempt turns out to be unanimous. They all want to avert the Reality Wars, even if it means not being around to witness the fruits of their labor. They have all been working towards this end for so long, it’s absolutely worth it. It would be selfish of them to try to find some kind of loophole. Debra doesn’t really have this same sentimentality, but she goes along with the plan, because she believes herself to be powerful enough to find a workaround later. And the reality is that she might be right. That has not yet been decided.

They don’t know where the others are gonna end up yet, but Echo and Clavia are going to remain here at Origin. They can do a lot of good, fulfilling visitors’ greatest desires, and making countless worlds better. It’s a great use of their gifts now that their primary goal of saving the Sixth Key is complete. They only asked for one thing in addition to the wish itself, which is to be given some kind of proof that this hasn’t all been for nothing, and that the wish will indeed be fulfilled. I can agree to that. I don’t need any more pushback from any of them, and would like to remove myself from the narrative. Clavia is right, that it’s a deus ex machina, and while that’s a very useful trope in some cases, it’s not something that should be overutilized, or the story essentially becomes meaningless, and a waste of time.

The Reality Wars will be stopped, and everyone who wants to live in the new universe will be automatically transported to it without fuss. All year, I’ve been trying to figure out what its name should be, and I think I’ve finally settled on the right one. In keeping with the motif of placing them in numerical order, it must necessarily follow The Seventh Stage. The result is unremarkable, and strangely simple. I’m calling it...The Eighth Choice.

« < » > Entire Story

Microstory 2429: Capital

< > Table of Contents

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

This is the Capital City of Castlebourne. It doesn’t have any other name besides that, which is unusual, since they seem to have an appreciation for word puns in their other names. I suppose they just wanted to be real serious here, which is probably a good thing. Where I’m from in the Goldilocks Corridor, our planet didn’t have a capital. It was just a village where we made soap. That’s really it. Several years back, we were visited by the resistance to the Exin Empire. They wanted to know if any of us were willing to join the movement, and fight alongside them. We didn’t understand why we would even consider that, because for the most part, the empire left us alone. They asked us for soap, we gave them the soap, and they left. They never abused us, or attacked us, or anything. The resistance started educating us, though. They taught us about the other worlds, which were being forced to do other things to serve the Emperor. They showed us images of these other places, involving big machines that could produce their own wares in a fraction of the time. We were stunned. Some of us didn’t believe it. Some of us still don’t, and presumably still live on our home planet. We were making soap by hand. It was hard work, and the only reason we didn’t complain before was because we literally didn’t know that there was any better way. We were intentionally kept in the dark. Well, anyway, no, none of us joined the resistance. We were soap makers, we didn’t know how to fight! But then a few years later, another new ship showed up, and promised to take us somewhere where we wouldn’t have to make soap anymore. We asked them what work we would be doing, and they kind of laughed. No work, they said; we wouldn’t have to work at all. This was another concept that we didn’t have any frame of reference for. You work, it’s what you do. Not even the war-fighting people said anything about a life where we wouldn’t have to work. After some further education, most of us agreed to go with these other people. We flew away, and landed on Castlebourne. They didn’t lie to us, we don’t have to work. It’s taken some adjusting, but we’ve gotten used to just being alive and happy. I still wanna work, though. It still feels like the right thing to do. So I came to Capital to see how I could contribute to the governing body of our new society. I don’t have much experience, but they were all so welcoming to me. I’ve not been assigned anything yet, but they’re working on finding a place. I’m sure it’s difficult since I don’t have any skills. As for the dome itself, it’s gorgeous. Our village was dull and lifeless. I didn’t realize how much of a struggle it was for us just to survive. In contrast, this place has trees and other plant life. Tall buildings with hundreds of people work to make the world a better place for us refugees. For whatever reason, we were allowed to know how to read, but not everyone here had that luxury, yet the government is helping, and they’re doing it in style. I can’t wait to get my new job, and get to come to this beautiful dome every single day for the rest of my life.

Microstory 2418: Paleodome

< > Table of Contents

Generated by Google Flow text-to-video AI software, powered by Veo 2

This is a fascinating historical dome, but I think it can be better. I think they can make it more realistic, and more immersive. What’s the premise here? Well, it’s the paleolithic age, which is part of the stone age. Cavemen are working with stone tools, trying to figure out how to build societies, and engaging in the first (loose) definitions of war. I mean, it depends on how you define war. Were these organized, formal conflicts fought on distinct battlefields? No. But they were more than just two guys swinging clubs at each other during a disagreement. Their language was minimal, but they did make plans, and they did go out to fight together, so I would say that qualifies. The androids have been programmed with very low intelligence, but heightened curiosity, leading them to try all sorts of experiments, many of which don’t go too well. For now, these androids aren’t aware that you’re there. They’re literally programmed to ignore you while you watch from up close. I think they can do more with this. I think they can adjust the visitor’s intelligence as well. I know they do this with that zombie dome, where you can actually be transformed into a zombie. They seem to understand how people can bring themselves back to normal once they’re done with that. I don’t see any reason why the same principles can’t be applied here. It’s cool to watch the cavemen, but I want to be an active participant. I want to feel what it would have been like back then. In this regard, it’s an excellent reenactment. I don’t know exactly what year it’s supposed to be, but it moves in real time. I watched a guy learn how to cut a rudimentary axe-sort of thing out of stone, and that was a unique experience. That android will never do that again. He will never need to learn it again. Fifty years from now, if I go back, he will be “dead”. I’m sure his grandchildren will be starting to conduct their own tests, and learn their own lessons. That’s so cool to me, that we’re watching history unfold—albeit as a best guess based on archaeological evidence alone—and if you miss something, you miss it. There’s no going back to see what someone else saw before you. I think that’s really special. So if you’re interested in getting a glimpse of what Earth was like millions of years ago, you better come now, because it never stops changing.

The Sixth Key: Getting Their Rocks Off (Part IV)

« < » > Entire Story

Generated by Google VideoFX text-to-video AI software, powered by Veo 2

Clavia taught Echo...well, seemingly literally everything. She explained how the universe works, why it exists, and who exists in it. She told him about the people who were in charge, and those who simply lived their lives the best they could, ultimately having little impact on the events that unfolded. He was particularly taken in by her lesson on something called The Illusion of Self-Divinity Hypothesis. The theory seeks to understand why people conjure religious and spiritual concepts that go against scientific principles, and are very obviously untrue. They believe in God—or some kind of divine force—in order to establish themselves as the true source of power in a cold and indifferent universe. Science is true. Of course, it’s true, but it’s just as irrelevant as anything else that conscious beings come up with. Whatever is true about how reality works is true whether people understand it or not, or accept it...or, indeed, even if no one is around to contemplate the truth. They have no control over this, and that is a frightening idea.

If people have no impact on the grander truth of reality, what is the point in living? Their existence is insignificant. Humanity as a whole appears to be just as meaningless, so why continue? To protect themselves from this particular hard truth, they come up with tenets of the divine. Many philosophers have postulated that humans do this because they take comfort in the supposed meaningfulness of existence, and that’s probably true as well. But the core of these religious thoughts comes from the individual’s psychological need to hold power. Believers of a given religious school may all believe in basically the same thing. They have the same idea of the divine being, and that this being created them and the universe for some sort of reason. But each individual can come up with their own particular set of sub-tenets. This is important on its own, but their ability to shift their personal tenets at will is what’s key here.

If humans invented God, then humans must be more powerful than God. Since no version of God truly exists, the divine being’s power is wholly within the headcanon of the individual. This effectively serves to make the believer the god-being themselves. They can change their minds about the underlying rules of what they believe to be an ordered universe. Clavia seems to believe this one lesson to be particularly important as they talk about it at least a little every day. Their education lasts for years, all the while, the mysterious second wave of visitors or invaders keeps heading in this direction. She starts to regain some of the special power and knowledge that she had before, but she still can’t explain what’s taking them so long. Or she won’t. Echo decides that he’s going to be okay with this. She’s entitled to her secrets, just as she respects him with his. They spend most of the time in the dreamscapes that she constructs, so they can explore the inner workings of the universe through real examples. Today, all that apparently ends. She’s decided that he’s ready to graduate. They’re doing it in base reality.

Echo stands there on the top of the hill, looking down at the ground below them. He’s meant to picture an audience, but it’s not working. Well, of course it isn’t working. It’s not like he can just magically summon people for real. But his imagination, it’s just not very good. There’s no way to know if he was born like that, or if his upbringing resulted in the deficit. Really, it just makes him sad. He’s proud of himself, and he wants people to see it. He just wants to see people in general. Clavia’s simulations aren’t real. He wants real. The audience materializes.

Dozens of chairs suddenly appear on the ground, and a few seconds later, they’re all filled. At first, he starts to wonder if this is Clavia’s doing. She promised to always make him aware when they’re in a shared dream, but she doesn’t necessarily have to keep that promise. She’s fully capable of tricking him. But he doesn’t think that’s what this is. The people in the seats, they’re confused. Clavia’s a little confused too, but not panicking. She puts the tablet where she was tweaking her speech away, and stands back up. “Ladies and gentlemen, I know that you’re quite perplexed, but I assure you that you are entirely safe. If you will just bear with us, all will be explained.”

“Did I do this?” Echo asks her in a whisper.

“Of course you did, dear. You’ve always been able to do this.” That can’t be true. Clavia walks over to the wooden podium. “Thank you for coming to the first annual School of Clavia Graduation Ceremony. The Class of 2500 may be small, but he is mighty, and I hope all of you will welcome him into the Sixth Key with open arms. As he is our only student, Mr. Cloudbearer is valedictorian by default, but make no mistake, he would have earned this spot either way. In a group of a hundred trillion, I have no doubt that he would still be sitting up here with me today, preparing to give a speech.”

Echo stands up to whisper to her again. “I don’t think I can do that.”

“I told you to prepare a speech,” she reminds him.

“Yes, but I always thought I would be giving it to the wind. Now that there are people to hear me, I don’t know if what I wrote down is right.”

“Just speak from the heart,” she says. It’s a cliché, but reasonable advice.

“Okay.” He’s still nervous, but determined. At least he’s determined to be determined, if that makes any sense. He’s about to sit back down so Clavia can finish her introduction, but she points to the podium with both hands, indicating that she already is. So he steps up to it.

“You got this,” Clavia encourages as she’s sitting back down.

He looks out at the crowd before him. Some of them are still confused, but they’re intrigued more than anything. It seems harmless enough; a graduation ceremony. No one has tried to run away or attack them, or even stand to question. He’s gonna be okay. This is gonna work out. “I was born alone.” Wait, that’s not what was in his notes. “I did not have parents.” That isn’t true at all. “I didn’t even have a planet.” That’s really not true. They’re standing on it right now. “I had to create it myself out of random scattered atoms in the void. I don’t know how I did this. I just knew that I had to. I had to...make form. My consciousness was floating in the nothingness for who knows how long. Still, even with two arms, two legs, I was alone. I conjured new lifeforms in my imagination. They cared for me, and taught me how to live. But it was really just me. I know everything. I know...everything.” He points to someone in the front row. “You may look like Leona Delaney, but you are Arcadia Preston. How would you like to feel like yourself again?” With a wave on his hand, she transforms into someone new. The man next to her is stunned, but pleased. It’s her husband, Vearden Haywood.

“I am the divine manifestation of your reality,” Echo goes on. “You have been chosen to come here and bear witness to the rise of my power. You live in different parts of the galaxy, and originate from each of the five original parallel realities. I will send you back to where you belong, and you will tell of my grandeur. You will warn the leaders of your society that they are nothing compared to me. You will halt all wars, and cleanse yourselves of all hate. You follow me now.” He pauses for effect, and it’s enough time to get himself out of the trance, if only for a little while. Who is this man, resonating Echo’s vocal cords, and flapping his lips? He is no powerful divine entity. He’s just Echo Cloudbearer; a simple man leading a simple life on the outskirts of civilization. None of what he’s saying is true, and it’s certainly not right. He turns his head to look at Clavia. She’s smirking. Or is it more of a grimace? He didn’t do well with his emotion detection tests. He might not be cut out as valedictorian after all.

Clavia gestures for him to continue.

His darker self is trying to take back over. The real Echo can’t stop it. He’s not strong enough. He didn’t know that he needed to fight. Clavia never taught him. He studies her face one last time before his chin forces itself away. She’s quite happy. This was her plan all along. She was never teaching Echo anything. She was fostering this other evil force. She was turning him into this. He lets go. “I am the man who invented God, and became God. There is no truth beyond what I make it. There is no will outside of mine. I am all that exists, and you are all still alive...because I deem it so. Please know that I ask this with absolutely no sincerity.” He takes another dramatic pause, but Echo’s good soul is too weak to break free this time, and resume control of the body. It’s over. “Are there any questions?”

There’s an explosion in the back. Over a dozen people appear out of the spacetime tears, and reassemble themselves into solid beings. He doesn’t recognize any of them, except for one. She looks exactly like Clavia. She doesn’t stand there with the same air of self-importance, though, and she doesn’t appear to be the leader. Someone else steps forward. “My name is Hogarth Pudeyonavic. I am here to negotiate for the freedom of the citizens of the Sixth Key. My first demand is that you release the prisoners.”

“They’re not my prisoners,” Echo insists. “They’re my audience.”

Hogarth holds firm. “If you do not send them back to where they belong safely, I will do it myself, and send you somewhere not so safe.”

“It’s okay,” Clavia decides, placing her hand upon Echo’s shoulder. “We don’t need them anymore.”

“What did you do to me?” Perhaps the good part of Echo does remain.

“I helped you come out of your shell,” she replied. This is the real Echo. Everything you told these people is true. I’ve shown you. You just need to put the pieces together.”

Echo turns his head forwards again. While he’s contemplating Clavia’s claim, he waves his hand again, and spirits the audience away. The exploding invaders are all that’s left, but he’s not paying them any intention. He’s going back over his lessons. He’s rewatching the Big Bang, the coalescence of Earth in the Sol System, the splitting of reality, the Reconvergence, and the consolidation of the former peoples of these realities. That’s not it. That’s not what she’s talking about. It’s something else. Something small. No, someone small. She’s curled up in the middle of nothing, trapped in the space between spaces. She’s trying to find a way out, and back home to her friends, but growing frustrated. She shouts. Energy flows out of her, and into the void. Within the cloud of infrasubatomic dust, a galaxy takes shape. It’s small, but only from this perspective. Hundreds of billions of stars, waiting to be populated by the refugees. It’s the Sixth Key, and above it, its creator. Olimpia Sangster. He wasn’t born alone. She is his mother. And he has to find her. He scowls at Clavia.

“Oh, shit,” she says. “That’s not what I meant.” This asshole tree is goin’ down.

« < » > Entire Story

Microstory 2403: Mêléedome

< > Table of Contents

Generated by Google VideoFX text-to-video AI software, powered by Veo 2

There are lots of domes dedicated to war, according to the literature. Name a major war from history, there’s probably a dome that recreates the conditions that you can participate in. Some are entirely fiction, and it’s more about the kinds of weapons it features, and the kind of restrictions they have in place. For instance, since humanity progressed beyond most need for war, we never really got space battles. Did anyone else notice that? Fiction is riddled with examples of space wars, and they just don’t happen in real life, even though we’re fully in space now. It’s good, I know, it’s good, but it would be kind of nice to be able to experience what it would have been like, especially free from all real consequences of such war, like death. Sorry, I’m digressing. Castlebourne is rumored to be preparing a fake space war, though it would be several AU from the planet, and as I said, they’re just rumors. Right now, I wanna talk about Mêléedome. I was immediately drawn to the concept. What’s the plan here? What is the structure? There is none. It’s a complete and total free-for-all. You go out there with whatever weapons you managed to get your hands on, and you fight whoever you want. Right now, most of the fighters are NPCs. I mean, with such a low visitor population at this point, it would be boring if they had to rely entirely on us. It can be a little awkward for some, intentionally harming others, even though they don’t feel pain, and you barely do. That’s what’s cool about it; it can hurt a little bit, if that’s what you select in the options. You can’t really die, of course—not for real, anyway—and the pain can’t be agonizing, and you can choose to switch it off in the middle of it, but it’s there. And you can die, in a certain way. How does this work? Well, when you first come to the planet in The Terminal, you’re given a primary substrate, but you can switch to other bodies later. In particular, you can control surrogates. It still feels like you’re there, but these are cheaper and meant to be temporary. You go out there and fight, and if you’re “killed” then your mind just jumps to a new body, and you respawn. It’s a lot of fun. So essentially, you can do whatever you want with no consequences. Even if you do kill another real life visitor, they’ll be fine. I can only speak to my personal experience, but if you’re a fan of chaos, confusion, and utter carnage, this is the dome for you.

The Sixth Key: His World Rocked (Part III)

« < » > Entire Story

Generated by Google VideoFX text-to-video AI software, powered by Veo 2

Clavia detailed her history, and how she came to be the consciousness of a tree. She’s actually an amalgamation of multiple people. They were all dying next to this tree’s parent—for lack of a better term. The tree was dying too, under attack from a small but powerful enemy. It provided them with one last hope in the form of a seed that could one day be replanted. The fruit containing this seed ended up in the mouth of one of the allies, a woman by the name of Ingrid Alvarado, who is now the primary intelligence of the new tree. That wasn’t blood on her face that Echo saw when she first showed up here. It was the juice of the fruit. Her body was dead, though, so at least he didn’t bury someone alive. It’s a good thing that he did, because it’s what allowed the seed to find purchase, and grow into the magnificent specimen standing here today. The humanoid form of Clavia is an extension of it, and as of yet, it’s unclear how far she can stray from her home. For now, she’s been mostly staying in the garden. Together, they hope to work through ways to protect themselves from any hostile forces.

Echo doesn’t know how fast the ships can go, but his original guess was that it would take two years for another one to arrive, if it ever did. They evidently detected Clavia’s birth, but it was a year before the first strangers came. If it took them a year to get back to wherever they came from, no one else will be able to make it until another year after that. According to Clavia, however, this is wrong. The people here are capable of traveling a lot faster than that. They can cross the whole galaxy in a matter of moments if they use the right equipment. Echo doesn’t really have the frame of reference for what she means, so she has started giving him some schooling. His parents educated him in science a little while they were alive, but it seems they deliberately chose to leave some things out. He now believes that they didn’t want him to develop too much of a sense of wonder for what might be hiding amongst the stars. It’s not that they were trying to protect him from the dangers, but they no longer had the means to reach such great distances, or even communicate to others. They didn’t want him to long for something that he could never have.

Looking back, their reasoning was sound, but it is now out of date. Their shuttle is not irreparable, not with a superintelligent tree around. Clavia is getting smarter and stronger every day, which is good, because someone else does appear to be on their way here. She once again doesn’t know who they are, or what they want, but the two of them are going to be more prepared than ever. Despite their ability to travel so quickly, the oncomers are moving at a really slow pace. Clavia doesn’t know why that is either, but they’re going to take advantage of the delay.

 They spend the next week on an intensive crash course so Echo can learn all he needs to know about the universe. He learns that it’s made up of five conflicting cultures, which were once separated across different realities. Each one had everything they needed until they were thrown together and suddenly had to share their resources with each other. That was a hundred years ago, and this new society had been on the brink of war ever since. The only thing that has kept them together is the result of a series of diplomatic discussions amongst the leaders, and a healthy interest in everyone minding their own business. They’re still pretty separated, which sounds like a bad thing, but it seems to be going well. At least for now. What they need is a true leader. They need someone to unite the civilizations. Everyone needs to be following the same rules, and listening to the same visionary. For some reason, Clavia believes that Echo can be that leader. He’s not so sure. He’s never led before. Until recently, he hadn’t even met anyone before.

“You didn’t talk to people in your simulations?” Clavia questions.

“They were mostly only there as background,” Echo explains. “I don’t think that the program was all that sophisticated. They allowed me to feel like I was doing a number of activities, like swimming, piloting a spacecraft, or even flying through the air. However, they didn’t have any socialization functions, as my parents would call them.”

“Hm. Well, I have simulations of my own, and they don’t have any limits. Would you like to try one of them?” Clavia offers.

“Sure, I wouldn’t mind seeing something new.” Echo doesn’t want to seem too eager, but he is.

“Do I have permission to touch you?”

“Go ahead.”

She opens her arms, and walks up to him, taking him into a hug. His mom and dad hugged him all the time, but this is different. He’s feeling something he hasn’t ever felt before. Sure, there were stirrings, but nothing this substantial. They’re probably bad thoughts, so he shoves them to the side, and lets Clavia do whatever she’s trying to do.

He finds himself falling through the air. No, it’s more like the ground disappeared, and now air is rushing up past him. New ground gets larger and larger until he’s standing upon it. It’s not a desert, nor a garden, but the trees of a city. Cars are moving next to him. They’re honking their horns, and yelling unintelligibly at each other. People walking by him on the sidewalk are talking, to each other, and on their little computer boxes. Flashing signs litter the tops of the nearby buildings. He can read most of the words, but he doesn’t know what their purpose is.

“Advertisements,” Clavia explains. She’s walking up to him wearing something that she wasn’t wearing before. Her dress was simple and unremarkable, only there to cover her skin. It wasn’t all that different than what Echo wore before he put on his father’s suit. Her outfit now is stylish and fancy. Her pants are gray and slick. She has a gray jacket over a white blouse, showing some skin in between the two sides. Echo is having those stirrings again, so he shakes it off, and tries to focus on her eyes. And that hat. What kind of hat is that? “A fedora,” Clavia answers.

He didn’t ask that out loud. He just thought about it. “Huh?”

“I can read your mind in here,” Clavia says. “This isn’t like one of your simulations, where you just connect to a piece of technology. We’re sharing a brain, and with that, our thoughts.”

Oh, that might not be good.

She smiles. “It’s okay to look. You’ve been alone your whole life. It isn’t natural. They should have given you friends...like these.”

A man wearing a chef’s uniform walks up to Echo out of nowhere. “Hey, Mister Cloudbearer. How you doin’?”

“Good, good, thank you.”

“All right, my man,” the cher responds.

“Hey, Echo.” It’s a young woman. She’s quite pretty, and she looks interested in him. She smiles but doesn’t stop walking by.

“Echo, what’s up, dude?” A teenager is standing on a mailbox. Some people are paying attention, but others are ignoring him. “Check this out!” What is he holding? It’s long, and has wheels on it. He’s never seen it before, but the word suddenly comes to him. It’s a skateboard. The kid holds it out in front of him, then jumps off of the mailbox. He lands on the board, and starts rolling around, much to the annoyance of the nearest passersby. One of the wheels hits a pebble, and he falls forward, but still manages to land on his feet. “Ah, boofed it. Maybe you can show me again later?”

“Sure, kid.” Why did he say that? Echo never taught this non-existent person anything.

Other people start approaching Echo. They all act like they’re friends, and that they admire him greatly. He’s on top of the world here; a real popular guy. He was once afraid to talk to other people. He didn’t think it would ever happen anyway, but he was scared out of his mind that he would screw it up if the unthinkable happened. But you know what? Even though none of this is real, he did encounter four people the other day, and he handled it well. He wanted them to leave, and they eventually did. He won the argument. Despite his lack of experience, he could do this. When this new group of people come here, he’ll take care of them too, no matter what they want from him, or the tree. If they don’t have honorable intentions, they’re gonna wish they did.

“All right, that’s enough,” Clavia declares. The crowd freezes, though they’re all still looking at Echo enthusiastically.

“You can make anything?” Echo asks her.

“Like I said, it’s not like one of your parents’ sims. I don’t have to program anything. I just...think of it. What else do you want to see?”

Echo looks up towards the sky, and thinks about it. “Hmm. The whole galaxy.”

“Easy,” she says. The street and buildings in front of them begin to roll away. Then the entire planet that they’re standing on does the same, like a giant marble spinning through outer space. The two of them keep flying backwards as the stars fly away from them, and then start to streak across the sky. Suddenly it all stops, and they can see a galaxy, rotating at an angle in the middle of a black void. It’s so beautiful, glowing with the fire of hundreds of billions of suns.

He admires it silently for a few moments.

“Not one second has passed for us in the real world,” Clavia claims. “I can teach you so many things while we’re in here. I can make you feel like you’ve lived an entire lifetime in one day. I can show you what life has been like for everyone else; in the five original realities, and after the creation of the Sixth Key. I can turn you into the leader that I know you can be.”

“What do you get out of this?” Echo asks.

“Why would I need anything out of it? Is that how your parents raised you, to need something for your efforts?”

“They did not, but in the regular simulations, I often had to wait in line, like if I wanted to go on an amusement park ride, or order food. I couldn’t carry on a conversation with one of the backgrounders, but I could hear them talk to each other. I noticed a drive towards balance. Unfairness meant one person having something that the other did not. They wanted everything to be even. No one wants to lose, or sacrifice. And I always had to pay. It was fake money to me, but real to them.”

“Well,” Clavia begins, “I’m not one of your background actors. I’m a tree.”

Echo chuckles. “True. I recognize that I don’t know how humans work regardless. Yes, Clavia, I would love it if you showed me.”

She smiled wider. “Great. Then let’s get started. How about we go back to the beginning, during a little event that we call...the big bang?”

« < » > Entire Story