Tag Archives: Sci-Fi Saturdays

Follow the Ashes – Rivalry Reunion

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Cas blinked. “Family?”

Gavin, or rather the holo-Gavin, chuckled. “Not blood related, mind you. We both initially reported to Bertie, and he often mocked us for behaving like siblings. He wasn’t wrong, I’ll concede.”

“I wish I could remember, but details are still fuzzy,” Cas replied, a frown tugging at the edges of her lips.

Holo-Gavin shook his head. “Probably some of my best work,” he said. “We all had to play our roles, after all, and for your journey to get here to succeed you couldn’t remember anything. Perhaps I did too well on the memory block, though, but it seems you’ve worked past it. Mostly.”

Cas winced as memories flew through her thoughts like a highlight reel. Events zipped past too quickly to process, and yet the details were clear enough.

“This is a suicide mission, isn’t it?” Cas said.

Holo-Gavin rolled his eyes. “You certainly weren’t this dour when you figured out how to power the rings,” he said. “Until you found out the cost the world paid for customized utopia living spaces, anyway. There was big money in it.”

Cas began to pace, and Holo-Gavin mirrored her. She stopped occasionally, a hand raised as if she were on the cusp of saying something. Each time, she resumed pacing instead.

“I’m not really capable of feeling much anymore, but you are making my storage overheat from trying to track you,” holo-Gavin said. “Please stand still if you can. Maybe another drink?”

Cas shook her head. “I’ve got to stay sharp,” she said. “And you never answered me. I’m going to die for the sake of the Earth, aren’t I?”

Holo-Gavin shrugged. “How the hell would I know?” he asked. “I’m already dead. No hard feelings on that front, by the way. That was a contingency we had planned for, obviously. As for your fate? I’m not much for gambling, but if I had to place a wager I’d put my money on you making it out of this alive. Unless you fail, of course, in which case I’d like to point out again I’m not much for gambling.”

Cas shook her head. A display on the back wall of the room showcased real-time footage of the Earth as it burned like an ember of a neglected campfire.

“Any helpful hints?” Cas hazarded asking.

Holo-Gavin smiled. “You need to go back the way you came,” he said. “Cryptic. Just the way you like it.” His image faltered, gaps in his appearance visible for fractions of a second.

“Damn,” holo-Gavin said. “Guess our brief time together again is almost up.”

“Hold on!” Cas demanded, unsure if it would help. “Before you go, could you at least tell me…Did we ever really get along? Were we friends, or just colleagues who fought one another? What were we?”

Holo-Gavin smiled, his face one of bittersweet recollection. “We both fought with all we had to be the lead architect on the rings,” he replied. “With time and success and failure, it became apparent who was the superior choice. I was happy to work for you, and when we realized the cost? I knew you’d make the right call. I suppose, in a sense, you did become something of a sister to me.” The holo-Gavin faltered again, longer this time, and reformed into a choppier, more pixelated version of itself.

“Do me a favor, yeah?”

Cas forced a smile. “I’ll try.”

“If you succeed,” holo-Gavin said. “If you get out of this in one piece and ever get back to Terra, could you take my eye with you? Bury it somewhere nice so I can see the world again.”

Cas winced, the sting of imminent tears burning her eyes. “Yeah, you sentimental bastard,” she replied. “I could do that.”

Holo-Gavin laughed, the sound tinny until it faded as did the projection. The cybernetic eye went dark.

Cas took a slow, long sip from the bottle and appreciated it more this time. A single image appeared on the screen ahead of her. It depicted a castle, almost straight out of a movie, deep underwater. Coordinates flashed quickly, followed by a sharp pain behind Cas’ eyes.

“I guess I’ve got the answer to where I’m off to next,” Cas said. She retrieved Gavin’s cybernetic eye from the pedestal, replaced it in her pocket, and left the room to continue her journey backwards through time and achievement to right the wrongs her progress had caused.

Warpt Factor – Installment 21

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The Lofty Albatross moved through space like a boat on calm waters, but the atmosphere on the bridge was that of a storm about to break.

CMO Carter was the first to interrupt the silence that had fallen upon leaving dinner.

“Captain, forgive my asking but do you feel it’s a good idea to travel to coordinates sent anonymously like this?” Carter asked.

First Officer deCourville clicked his tongue. “It is crucial we explore the possibility that this message was from the adversarial force that caused such troubles on Rigel Six,”he replied, though his words lacked the certainty they usually held.

Izzy crossed her legs, uncrossed them, crossed them again, and finally stood up from the captain’s chair.

“One of you needs to fess up,” Izzy snapped. “Something’s not right and I’ve got a hunch one of you has some clue or an idea or even a full understanding.” She walked to Professor Everest first, who wouldn’t make eye contact. Izzy leapt up, and Professor continued to look away.

“Look me in the face, you coward!” Izzy huffed. She marched over to First Officer deCourville.

Fontaine glanced at his watch, then looked to the doors to the bridge in a panic. “Look at the time,” he muttered. “I’ve got to go complete my seventeen minute rejuvenation cycle for the evening. That is a real thing that a Cicardox does, and I would appreciate you respecting my honesty by not looking into that claim further.” He dashed to, then out, the door.

Izzy turned and caught CMO Carter staring.

“Load of help you two are,” CMO Carter sneered. “First Officer fled the bridge and you won’t even so much as squeak like a stowaway mouse. I’ll tell her, but she’s not going to be happy.”

Izzy raised an eyebrow, her hands on her hips. “Go on,” she commanded. “Talk.”

CMO Carter inhaled slowly, exhaling in a deep sigh. “It’s a recruiting technique,” she said. “Someone out there sees you as talent worth sniping. It’s interesting, though…”

“What’s interesting?” Izzy asked.

“You just took over this ship not more than a month ago, yes?” CMO Carter asked.

Izzy thought about it. “Maybe two weeks, give or take? It’s hard to say.”

“I suggest we’re on our guard, if we even accept,” Professor Everest said. “Some of these sorts don’t handle ‘no’ well for an answer.”

Follow the Ashes – Catastrophe, but Not Before a Drink

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Cas looked around at her former cohorts, memories of her time with them gradually returning. She blinked, tried to shake the fog from her head, and sighed.

“Be kind to yourself, friend,” Bertie said, stepping forward. “We know you’re not on the most even footing, so to speak, and things are coming back gradually. For the best, you know, since unlocking all of your memories at once would be quite dangerous.”

Maeve scoffed. “What kindness did she afford us? Were we not but pawns in this ordeal?”

Bertie opened his mouth, but stopped short as Cas raised a hand.

“I barely remember you,” Cas said. Maeve’s lips curled into a sneer. “It would seem I’ve wrong you in some way, however, and I’d be open to discussing that further.” She hesitated.

“Beyond the injuries I caused you recently,” Cas added. “I’m…Er, I’m glad to see you appear to have recovered.”

Raph stepped between the two. “See? What nice progress this has been.”

Bertie chuckled. “We’re on something of a tight schedule, I fear,” he said. “Gavin’s untimely expiration is undoubtedly a sign that Vittorio something’s amiss.”

Cas shook her head. “What is it you need from me next, then?” she asked. “I know it’s my fault the Earth is burning, but what can I do now?”

Bertie chuckled softly, the sound a sour humor–sadness mixed with his amusement. “The best person to answer that is dead,” he said. He smiled. “You took his eye, though, didn’t you?”

Cas reached into her pocket and found what she was looking for by a familiar cold to the touch feeling. She removed Gavin’s cybernetic eye from her pocket and held it up. It vibrated gently in her grasp as small points of light traced paths along the eye’s surface. The pupil lit up, dim at first, and then shot forth a beam of light that pointed ahead.

“Best not dally,” Bertie said. “Battery life on those was never terrific without a power source. We’ll wait right here for you.”

“That’s a conversation for you and Gavin only,” Raph said in response to Cas’ raised eyebrow.

Cas took a step forward along the corridor as she followed the light from the eye. The beam went to the end of the hall, visible as a point of red light where it stopped. When Cas reached the wall, the eye unexpectedly swiveled in her grasp. She nearly dropped it, but managed to hold fast. It pointed to the left-leading corridor, and so Cas followed. She reached the corner, and followed the corridor to the right until she reached another corner. The eye lead her to the halfway point of the corridor and then swiveled to face the wall.

The point of light, Cas noticed, was larger and now formed a flickering X.

“Marks the spot, I suppose,” Cas said. She pressed the eye against the wall, expecting some explosive response. Fanfare. Drama.

Instead she was met with a soft click. A section of wall retreated into the ceiling, and beyond the opening it left was a modest office space. A wooden desk sat in the center of the room. Cas approached and could see it was hand-carved, meticulously and with love of the craft. A small, metal tree stood devoid of leaves on the left side of the desk. A semi-spherical indent interrupted the mess of branches at the tree’s crown.

Cas inhaled as she placed the eye into what looked to be its resting spot, and watched as its light went out.

“Shit,” she muttered. “Tell me the damned battery died.”

Light poured forth from the eye, focused on a single point. It build upwards from the floor, gaining depth and definition until a very lifelike holographic projection of Gavin stood before Cas.

“Hello, Commander,” the projected Gavin said. “If you’re seeing this recording, you likely know I am dead.”

Cas sighed. “And it’s likely my fault.”

The holo-Gavin rolled his eyes and huffed. “I figured I could milk that joke for at least another line or two of dialogue, but no,” he said. “You had to go and rain on my parade. When did you get so dour?”

Cas blinked, stepping back.

“Memory core in the old eye,” holo-Gavin said. “Good for one last conversation. Before we get too far into this…” He gestured at a shelf built into the wall. There were several books and file folders, all analog which was a curious sight given that most everything else was stored in the form of data.

“The one titled ‘The Mysteries of the Isles’,” Gavin instructed.

Cas pulled the book from its resting spot and was surprised it had as much weight to it as it did. She carefully placed it on the desk, and when she opened it she was not met with pages but two crystal glasses and a small decanter.

“Might as well break out the good stuff,” holo-Gavin muttered. “I figured we’d be enjoying it under different circumstances, but I was never very good at gambling. Have a glass for me, would you? You’ll hate it.”

Cas complied, not fully certain as to why. She opened the decanter and was met with a smell like fire and rotting wood. She wrinkled her nose as she poured a modest measure into a glass, then held the glass up and swirled its contents. Before she could let her reservations get the better of her, Cas took a long drink from the glass. It tasted as it smelled, and burned her mouth in a way that made her eyes water and her nose run.

“One of the last bottles of scotch from Earth,” holo-Gavin said. “No age indication, as there was no need. It was one of a small handful. Cost me a small fortune.” He chuckled.

“I told you that you’d hate it, though,” holo-Gavin added.

Cas winced as she powered through the rest of the glass. She poured herself a second one. “To you,” she said as she held it aloft. She sipped it this time, and noticed it was less offensive. Less painful.

“I have so many questions,” Cas conceded.

Holo-Gavin shook his head, motes of dust moving through him where he stood. “If only we had the time.”

“Humor me,” Cas said. “Even just a little.”

“Perhaps, but only a little,” holo-Gavin said. “One question, and then I tell you what you need to know. Then…”

Cas frowned. “Then it’s goodbye, yes?”

Holo-Gavin nodded. “There you go getting all dour again,” he said. “What’s your question? Make it count.”

Cas considered her options. Ever since she had woken up to only the command for her to follow the ashes, and ever since Gavin had begun to pursue her, he had remained something of a mystery. Even with her memories coming back, she wasn’t sure who the real Gavin was or what motivated him.

Holo-Gavin tapped his wrist, and a small timer displayed in the air. It did not have much time left to it.

“I know,” Cas said at last. “Don’t laugh at me, though.”

“Oh ho ho, this should be good,” holo-Gavin said.

Cas held up a finger, and holo-Gavin stopped chuckling.

“Very well,” holo-Gavin said. “What’s your question?”

Cas hesitated, but forced the words to leave her mouth. “Was there a time we were friends, Gavin?”

Gavin smiled. It was a smile of genuine happiness, and for a moment it was as if he had come back to life. “That’s one hell of a question,” holo-Gavin said. “We were far more than friends, though. We were practically family.”

Warpt Factor – Installment 20

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Izzy sighed. The haunted mansion seemed a little less impressive after seeing actual monsters and magic in action. This didn’t stop Izzy from taking the ride very seriously. She earned the high score on the ghost hunter portion of the ride, and unlocked the hidden route. At the end, walking along the exit path, Izzy performed a short victory dance that prompted a chuckle from CMO Carter and muttered remarks about being a sore winner from First Officer deCourville.

“So much for this being down-time, eh?” Professor Everest joked. “You doing all right, Captain?”

Izzy smiled. “As far as vacations go, it was a dud,” Izzy replied. “Made for a very impressive distraction. Top notch. Totally threw me off my game. Feeling ready to get back to doing some good, though. What do you think?”

Professor Everest huffed. “Just be careful with that sort of attitude,” he replied. “If you’re not careful, all procedure and proper work focus with no fun will make you into that.” He jerked a thumb towards Fontaine.

“I can hear you, you know,” Fontaine hissed without looking back.

“Let me present a reasonable compromise,” CMO Carter said. She spun around and stopped. “We can cut our trip a little short seeing how the park closes in a couple hours…But would we really want to miss out on making use of our meal passes?”

Fontaine chittered excitedly. “It would be prudent to fully utilize all of the amenities afforded to us with our passes, I would think,” he said, quickly adding, “I have heard such good reviews of the Orbital Opera, after all. I would like to second the motion to enjoy some fine dining and fantastical theater.”

Izzy chuckled. “Who am I, your caring captain, to deny my crew a little more fun before we depart? Let’s do this.”

The Orbital Opera hovered at the height of the park, a globe suspended from the upper reaches of the park’s boundaries. The ceiling, only visible when starstuff bounced against it, was clear and provided a perfect view of the billions of points of light beyond. The tables were in a fixed orbit around a stage at the center of the room, and the show was almost ready to start when Izzy and her crew arrived.

“Oh, wondrous! The tale of the feud between Mars and Earth!” Fontaine chirped.

Izzy enjoyed watching her crew as much as she enjoyed watching the show. It was peaceful. The food was all right, but a bit fancier than she’d have liked. She poked and prodded at it a few times in hopes of drawing Fontaine’s ire only to realize he was too enthralled by the performance. Giving in to the situation, Izzy forced herself to relax. By the end of the show, she was even enjoying herself a little though Izzy also found herself making mental notes of points to take back to her history teachers on Earth regarding how the Earthen Alliance at the time chose to approach welcoming the Martians into their great allegiance. By force.

“Exquisite!” Fontaine cheered as he leapt up, clapping all four hands.

Professor Everest snorted. “I’ve seen better versions,” he replied. “Spoiled myself by seeing the original cast. Everything else is just…eh.”

CMO Carter offered a friendly nod to Izzy. She raised an eyebrow.

“What? Do I have food stuck in my teeth?” Izzy asked. “Fancy food stuck in my teeth? Goodness, how embarrassingly classy of me.”

CMO Carter shook her head, but couldn’t help smiling. “You’ve got a message.” She pointed to Izzy’s CommLink. The small indicator light at the top of its screen blinked bright red.

“Huh,” Izzy said. “An Urgent one, too.”

She opened the message and reviewed it. The sender was anonymous, and the origin details were clearly heavily encrypted. All that was clear was the small map in the body of the message. Izzy continued to stare at it intensely. The sharp snapping of fingers pulled her back to the present.

“Is something wrong, Captain Warpt?” CMO Carter asked.

Izzy sighed. “Coordinates,” she said. “Mystery coordinates. I think it’s an invitation from our scary friend back on Rigel Six.”

CMO Carter downed the rest of her drink and sighed.

“Off we go,” Izzy said. “Crew, we’re starbound in ten. Don’t want to keep our host waiting.”

Warpt Factor – Installment 18

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The air in the haunted house was overbearing, stale, and stunk like a crypt. This sudden shift from the fully climate-controlled amusement park attraction did not go unnoticed.

“Stinks something awful in here,” Professor Everest said.

“Makes me grateful I have reduced olfactory senses,” Fontaine chirped.

Curian shook her head. “You must be a godsdamned delight at parties,” she said. “That’s assuming you get invited, anyway. This stinks like something familiar, though. I don’t think we’re…Wherever we were anymore.”

The track was missing, but the trappings of the haunted mansion remained. The cobwebs that pervaded every surface and the skittering of hidden spiders, however, seemed substantially more real.

“What do you mean?” CMO Carter asked.

“Better press on, my newly acquired friends,” Curian replied. “And let’s hope that whatever fel magics caused this didn’t have a sinister intent in mind. I’m good in a pinch if someone needs stabbed, but quietly procuring items and leaving unnoticed is more my speed.”

Fontaine gasped. “What you’re saying, then, is that you’re a thief?”

Curian sighed. “Nothing gets past the one-man plague here. How’s this place supposed to play out, anyway? Maybe we’ll get answers that way.”

CMO Carter nodded. “Not a bad idea,” she replied. She pointed towards a staircase that followed the wall ahead. It branched off a number of directions, the stairs a multitude of bridges overhead in ways that routed to multiple rooms.

“We’re in a sort of central hub, so the ride comes back here after each room would be completed,” CMO Carter explained. “Maybe if we play this out like it’s the ride, we’ll be able to set things right.”

“Loathe as I am to say this, perhaps that will get our Captain back and rid us of this delightful gargoyle,” Fontaine said.

Curian snapped her fingers. “That wasn’t a terrible insult, Chadley Cricket,” she shot back. “CMO Carter, was it? Can you lead the way?”

“I certainly can,” CMO Carter replied. “This is my favorite attraction here, after all.”

Follow the Ashes – The Road Beyond Ruination

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Cas approached the door and opened it. The Simulation Room beyond had not fully reset yet; trees and sky glitched in and out of realization with color schemes that did not suit them. The artificial Raph flickered in and out of existence like a ghost unable to manifest itself.

“Nothing for me out there,” Cas said to herself, uncertain if she was right but determined to press on to someplace new. She had finally gotten answers, but they left her with even more questions. Gavin’s death did nothing to help her.

She reached into her pocket and shivered when her fingers glided over the cold metal of Gavin’s cybernetic eye, still coated in a soft layer of ashes from immediately after his final moments. She withdrew her hand from her pocket and wiped it on her pants. She reached for the panel by the door and tried entering a different combination before opening the door. A small light panel above the door blinked red with each attempted combination, and each time she opened the door the same Simulation Room awaited her on the other side.

Cas noticed a separate panel to the left of the door. It was an older interface that lacked a touchscreen or mechanical keys.

“A key card reader,” Cas said “I suppose I should be surprised.” She ran the card key through the reader and waited with bated breath. The light above the door flashed red briefly. It flashed a second time, and then turned solid green and remained lit.

The door remained shut. The room shuddered suddenly, and Cas felt subtle rumblings of movement beneath her feet. She shut her eyes and focused, but struggled to determine which way the room may started moving. Almost as soon as the room had started moving, it shuddered to a stop.

The doors slide open and revealed hallway. The walls glittered a gold that, even at a glance, was clearly more than paint. The floors were carpeted with vibrant red carpeting. Cas stepped into the hallway. A grid of green light illuminated the ceiling. It moved downwards, scanning the corridor, and passed over Cas before she could step back.

“ID mismatch detected,” a computerized voice said. “Speak your name and business or you will be eliminated for trespassing. Have a nice day!”

Follow The Ashes – The Steep Cost of Failure

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Cas stepped back, hand clasped over her mouth as she struggled to swallow the scream that threatened to rip loose at any moment. The world around her wavered and disappeared, the simulated memories no longer there. Replaced by the room with the overly extravagant desk and the window that afforded a perfect view of Terra below.

Earth, or what was left of it.

“I know you’re there, damn it,” Cas said, not bothering to turn around. “Why didn’t you just tell me the truth?”

“It would have killed you, I’m afraid,” Gavin said, walking around the desk and into view. “Frankly, I’m quite surprised it didn’t kill you. I don’t believe you were meant to learn the truth just yet. There are still too many loose ends.”

Cas glared at Gavin, whose expression was unreadable as ever. “Can’t you just speak plainly?”

“If only I had the time,” Gavin replied, shaking his head. “A risk I had taken knowing the potential consequences. You’ll need to find the others. They’ll have been reassigned again now that your actions are coming together.”

“My what?” Cas demanded.

Gavin shook his head. “High Command knows what you knew, and what you did about it,” he replied. He reached into his shirt pocket and handed Cas a card key.

“You’ll need this,” Gavin instructed. “I’ll leave you with an old quote I’ve been fond of ever since we embarked on this journey you don’t yet fully recall. The risk I took was calculated, but man am I bad at math.”

Cas couldn’t help but smiled. “What do you mean, though?”

The sound was soft and faint, and suddenly was quite horrible. It happened slow, then suddenly. The iris of Gavin’s cybernetic eye flashed red, followed by a blinding light. The heap of ashes resting where Gavin had stood seconds before seemed so small compared to how much space he took up–both physically and personality-wise.

His cybernetic eye sat atop the ashes, staring at Cas though there were no longer any signs it was still functional.

“Probably not what I had in mind, but best not risk it,” Cas said to herself. She reached down and plucked the eye from the ashes, wiping it off before placing it in one of her pockets. She shuddered.

Something called out from somewhere partially obscured in memories she couldn’t quite reach. She bowed her head, her eyes shut, and silently offered up a prayer. It felt like a foreign gesture to Cas, but seemed appropriate all the same.

The Earth burned in the corner of her vision.

“I have to make this right,” Cas said. She turned her attention to the door, then glanced at the card key in her hand. “And now I know where I can start.”

Warpt Factor – Installment 16

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Izzy had tried, unsuccessfully, to return to the bridge at least three times only to be thwarted by her crew.

“Mustn’t spoil the surprise,” First Office deCourville insisted.

“Back to your room now, little missy,” Professor Everest said, quickly correcting himself by adding, “Begging your pardon, Captain. No offense meant.”

That was when Izzy learned she reminded Professor Everest of his daughter, a fact that made her warm and fuzzy and full of rainbows and joy inside.

CMO Carter took a more direct approach. “I brought a deck of Adventures in Speculation cards and two mugs of hot chocolate with little marshmallows shaped like asteroids.”

Izzy wrinkled her nose. “Damn you, Carter,” she said. “Well-played. Come in, but know that I am a champion without rival at Speculation. You doomed yourself before you even knew what you were doing.”

CMO Carter entered the room, placed the hot chocolate down on the anti-grav table, swiveled the desk chair around to face Izzy’s bed, and cracked her knuckles.

“I’ll certainly test your skills, then,” CMO Carter replied.

The hours rolled by in an instant, several rounds having played out with no victor able to be chosen. Numerous mugs of cocoa were enjoyed.

“Clearly, I underestimated you,” Izzy said. “A mistake I won’t make again!”

There was a soft knock on the door. Izzy frowned, “Perhaps another time,” she said. “Who goes there? State your business!”

A grumbled response, followed by a clearer one. “First Officer deCourville. I thought you may like to know we’ve arrived at our destination. I had tried to contact you on your Commlink, but it seems you’ve shut it off.”

Izzy responded with a sheepish grin, and CMO Carter stifled a laugh.

“Be right out, First Officer,” Izzy replied. “Sir. Thank you, sir.”

The hatch was open, waiting, and the lights dimmed on the bridge. CMO Carter followed Izzy. She kept smiling, but wouldn’t admit to why.

Izzy stepped out onto the docks. The lights and sounds were all-encompassing. She blinked and tried to adjust, and as she processed her surroundings she couldn’t help but smile as well. She danced in place a moment, before turning to CMO Carter.

“You knew?” Izzy demanded.

CMO Carter nodded. “We considered your personnel file while you were dealing with the diplomatic parts during the tail end of our visit to Rigel Six,” she admitted. “It’s very clear you like thrill rides, and I happened to have an uncle who holds season passes.”

“Halcyonland,” Izzy said, a hint of tears welling up in her eyes. Antique roller coaster cars soared along modernized versions of their tracks overhead, no longer bound by the limits of old construction nor the dangers of naturally occurring gravity. Rides like centrifuges spun riders wildly while simultaneously rotating on multiple axes.

“You three thought of this for me?”

Fontaine, Professor Everest, and CMO Carter nodded.

“What you did back there was something amazing,” Professor Everest said. “Hurt like hell to see you so sad with what came of it, so we put our heads together…”

“Did a little research,” Fontaine said.

“The rest is, well, history,” CMO Carter said. “We’ve got the entire day off without issue. High Chancellor Kadimova approved it himself, actually. It was meant to be.”

Izzy looked around, soaking the entire place in. It was a one-of-a-kind attraction, its artificial atmosphere a thin, translucent fog barely visible at the edge of the park. In addition to the rides, there were so many food stalls and restaurants drifting about the sphere the park occupied in space.

Izzy’s eyes lit up as a thought occurred to her. “We have just enough that we can all be ride buddies!” she declared. “No one gets left behind this way. Oh wow. Wowwie wow wow, this is amazing!”

Fontaine began to raise a hand in protest. Professor Everest shook his head, and Fontaine lowered the hand.

“Yes, I suppose that will be quite nice,” Fontaine said, barely concealing his fear as his eyes followed a train as it ran through a series of loop de loops while also completing a barrel roll.

“Not as bad as it looks, or so I’ve heard,” Professor Everest assured him quietly.

Three rides later, however, had left Professor Everest asking if a break was in the future.

“Goodness me, a break?” Fontaine chittered excitedly. “We haven’t the time! We must maximize our ride-to-line-time ratio so as to enjoy as much of our time here as possible! Did you see the shooting star ride? Perhaps we could do that one next?”

Izzy laughed. “Didn’t think you’d be having so much fun, First Officer,” she said. “This is a little less formal than you seem to prefer and all. Not as stick-in-the-mud as you normally do?”

“I don’t know what’s come over me, to be honest,” Fontaine replied. “I feel light as a feather, filled with glee. I should do this more often, I think.”

“Adrenaline rush,” CMO Carter whispered. “Probably the most excitement he’s ever had in his life.”

Professor Everest winced as Fontaine continued to suggest rides. “Perhaps we could go on something a little slower to switch things up a little,” he suggested. “The Phantom Zone, perhaps?”

The Phantom Zone was modeled after the haunted houses of old. The facade of a derelict house floated in the air, its enormous doors opening to a wormhole. Carts of four riders disappeared into it, reappearing seconds later.

“Fair. Very diplomatic indeed,” Izzy said. “As Captain of this adventure, I’ll allow it.”

Fontaine frowned, but quickly recovered. “Very well. If it’s the Captain’s will, I’ll indulge. Only if I may ask for some more of the loop-and-twist rides afterwards.”

“Suppose so,” Izzy said.

They moved to the front of the line quickly, thanks to the nature of The Phantom Zone’s quantum ride duration. They boarded the ride’s vehicle, fashioned after an old mine cart. The restraint bar that lowered was more for show than function, an authentic throwback to amusement parks of yesteryear.

The doors opened like a gaping maw, the space beyond them a swirling opalescence that stuck out against the surrounding facade. A quiet countdown whispered from ten to one, and the cart lurched forward.

“Woah,” Izzy blurted out. “Ears popped just there.”

The space within the ride was made to look like an old mansion. Its physical details were in constant flux, however, shimmering gently in the low-light as simulated spiders the size of freighter ships moved around the ceiling. The cart followed its pre-set path, climbing a tall set of stairs.

Suddenly, the lights flickered. The cart stopped.

“Uh…Is that supposed to happen?” Izzy asked.

Fontaine and Professor Everest shrugged.

“New feature since the last time I visited, perhaps?” CMO Carter offered in response.

The lights flickered again, and Izzy was gone, replaced suddenly by a young woman in curious, Medieval garb.

Follow the Ashes – The Price of Success

Posted on by under Follow The Ashes

It was a celebration that put all other celebrations to shame. Cas arrived early and still felt as if she had gotten there late, shocked by how many people were already milling about the dimly-lit room. Brilliantly colored lights played around the ceiling and glimmered up from within the floor. Simulated shooting stars passed through the air without bothering the partygoers.

Cas inhaled deeply, braced herself, and entered the chaos. She couldn’t shake the feeling something was off, but whatever that something was eluded her. Her silver dress shined brilliantly, her matching gloves held in place with micro-gravs – just enough give to look like they were slipping off without the hassle of having to adjust them.

It was not a look Cas enjoyed, but the communication was clear. Everyone was to look exceptional. There were stakeholders to please, to wine and dine, and to fleece for every penny they were worth. The Rings depended on it.

“The Rings,” Cas muttered to herself.

Someone tapped on her shoulder, and Cas spun around. Raph, Ismeria, and Gavin stood together, smiling.

“Great to see you Commander,” Raph said, smiling especially broadly.

“Color me surprised,” Gavin added. “I distinctly recall you having indicated you were busy and would not be able to put in an appearance.”

Ismeria chuckled. “You’re just pissed because we owe Raph money,” she said. “My apologies, Commander, but I figured you would prefer paperwork over partying.”

Cas shook her head. She couldn’t help but smile back. “Hardly appropriate, but you can square away paying Raph later. Of course I’m here. Speaking of being here, where’s…” She trailed off. A blank space where a name should be in her memory. Odd, Cas thought.

“Maeve is on security duty, per your command,” Gavin replied. “Or are you having a brain lapse? No need to pretend you forget her name when she’s not around.”

“Right. Of course,” Cas replied. “Excuse me, I believe we were instructed to mingle.” She excused herself, and disappeared into the crowd. Screens moved along the edge of the room. They showcased beautiful forests with opulent tree houses, Medieval castle-towns with modern amenities, and collisions of past and future.

“What amazing habitat offerings,” one guest said to another. “I can’t choose which I’d prefer.”

“Any of them are an improvement over old, sad Terra,” replied the guest’s companion.

“Terra,” Cas muttered to herself. She noticed she was being watched, so she turned around to move among the crowd and bumped into someone. He was tall and portly, dressed in a forest green suit with a soft blue vest visible.

“Oh ho, if it isn’t the favorite Commander. Good evening,” the man said.

Cas smiled. “Bertie. A sight for sore eyes. Join me for a drink and conversation, would you?”

Bertie nodded. “Of course, of course, but I’ll have to make myself scarce before long,” he replied. “I do believe your bosses hate the idea of investors being treated as friends.”

Cas intercepted one of the hospitality droids drifting among the crowd just long enough to take two glasses of champagne. She handed one to Bertie, who raised it in a toast.

“To your extraordinary success,” Bertie said. “You solved the riddle no one else could unpuzzle. An awesome feat.”

Cas hesitated. What, she wondered, had she solved that was so important. “Thank you,” Cas replied, raising her glass to meet Bertie’s.

There was a murmuring among the crowd, attention shifting to the entrance. Bertie shook his head, downed his drink, and offered a lazy salute.

“We’ll talk again soon, I’m sure,” Bertie said. “You’ve got a very important guest to speak with, I believe.” He walked away before Cas could reply. The crowd seemed to be moving away from Cas, she noticed.

“The Commander of the hour.” The speaker’s voice deep, its intent carried on murky undertones like a wave rolling off of a storm.

Cas turned around, and looked up. There was no mistaking Vittorio Prosseur. His head floated suspended in a Vitalis Solution in a globe, separate from his custom built body but quite alive. An enormous, cybernetic heart pumped visibly within a similar, translucent dome in the body’s chest.

“Doctor Prosseur, it is always an honor,” Cas replied. The words were foreign, but fell effortlessly from her mouth. “I assure you, of course, it has been a team effort.”

“Please, call me Vittorio,” Vittorio said. He placed a cybernetic hand on Cas’s shoulder, its palm larger than her head. “You and I are of a higher calling than most here. We operate on a level of skill and wisdom that’s…not always appreciated. Walk with me.”

The room was empty, save for Vittorio. The party seemed to have ended. The screens had turned off.

“I’ll admit, I would have never thought to reverse the Simulation Engines like that,” Vittorio said, standing at the largest screen in the room. “It was a very calculated move on your part. The losses great, but the gains? Let’s just say our profits have never been greater.”

Cas approached slowly, cautiously. This screen displayed a far more dreary place. Fires raged across a planet’s surface, seas boiling. Parts of the land were visible only as blackened ruin, storms of ashes swirling across them from time to time.

“You solved the problem of providing power to the Rings, Commander,” Vittorio said. “And all you had to do was burn up Terra like charcoal in an old fireplace.”

Cas felt her stomach drop as she realized the scene unfolding in front of her was no display.

“What have I done…”

Follow The Ashes – Fragments of Memory

Posted on by under Follow The Ashes

Cas was aware something was different the moment she stepped into the control room. Fresh, modern, functional displays dominated an entire wall, lines of fiber optic cables tethering them to consoles below. The wall opposite from the door, however, is what captured Cas’s attention.

There was a desk that radiated luxury. It was the most low-tech piece of the room. The woodworking was impeccable, and it looked to be antique but well cared for despite no one being around.

Two trails of ashes ran parallel to each other as if to create a walkway to the desk, but instead went around it. Cas followed them, wary she was likely being watched. The path created by the ashes didn’t stop at the desk, but went around it and met their endpoint at the wall.

The display fitted into the wall was different, however. It didn’t display data streams or schematics for other rooms like the ones she’d previously encountered. This screen displayed a series of interwoven, concentric metal rings. Points of light were visible with windows showing hints of what was within the rooms beyond.

At the heart of it all was a planet, its surface visibly scarred to the point of not being habitable. Some points on the planets surface were still ablaze, the fires so large they were visible from this distance.

“This is a window…” Cas gasped, the realization settling in. She felt her stomach as it bottomed out. Dread mingled with familiarity, and Cas felt as if she had found herself standing at a precipice. Ahead was a point of no return–a sharp drop and a guaranteed sudden, final stop.

The desk featured one notebook, plain in its appearance but without even a hint of dust unlike the desktop which was covered in a fine layer. Someone had put it there recently, and deliberately.

Cas opened the notebook, her eyes drawn to the writing immediately. She snapped it shut and set it back down on the desk again, looking away.

“This is another trick, isn’t it?” Cas said to the room. “I know you’re watching me, Gavin. Just show yourself and explain this.” She gestured to the notebook and waited patiently.

No response came.

Her patience failing, Cas reopened the notebook and confronted her own handwriting. It was unmistakably hers, but she had no recollection of the thoughts on the pages in front of her.

Progress is slow and time is limited. We work endlessly, foregoing meals and sleep in favor of solving the final hurdle – how do we make the environments on the Rings permanently habitable? I cannot seem to solve one problem without creating another. Too many factors to consider.

Cas turned the page and continued reading.

We have received orders on a means to meet the power needs of the Rings, but few details have been relayed. Gavin remains optimistic, always pointing to that unsettling eye of his and saying how he’s got an eye for spotting wins. I suspect he means to be charming and conversational. I have little time for such pleasantries. There is something deeply concerning about the solutions – they present more questions than answers. Meanwhile, the various themed living quarters seem to be failing one by one. Their inhabitants are unaware they live in simulated realities, and so they scramble to survive. I cannot intervene or the integrity of all we have worked for will evaporate, and the entire project will inevitably be terminated.

Cas paused, her eyes shut tightly for a moment. A dull pain rolled from the base of her neck along the top of her head. She breathed through it, opened her eyes, and continued reading.

I’ve been running equations with Raph’s help. Maeve continues to complain that she is being under-utilized. Word, however, is that we are expecting a visit from much higher up. The name Vittorio has been mentioned, and if that rumor is even remotely true then we must work with haste and care.

“Vittorio,” Cas repeated aloud. “Why do I know that name…”

Vittorio’s visit went as expected. He focused largely on profitability and problem-solving, and only provided half-answers and misdirecting questions when asked how we would be improving upon meeting the power needs of the Rings. He left without joining the staff for dinner, his personal spaceship destined for a private planetoid somewhere far from here. Gavin continues to speak highly of the progress, but I cannot shake the feeling things are not as they appear. I need to have a contingency plan in place should there be difficulties ahead.

Cas turned the page. The very edge of the next five pages was all that remained, and the ones beyond that were blank.

“Rings…” Cas muttered to herself. Her eyes shot open wide as a rush of memories hit her. Maeve. Lieutenant Ismeria. Raph.

Gavin.

Blinding pain erupted behind her eyes, the world spinning around as she fought off a wave of nausea. She fell to her knees, her fists clenched so tightly that her nails drew blood from her palms.

The footsteps were soft, deliberately so, and measured.

“This has finally accelerated,” Gavin–his voice now unmistakable–said. “And yet you are nowhere near ready.”

“Go to hell,” Cas spat. The world rocked and lurched one final time, and Cas’s vision went black.