Enthusiastically Ambiverted Hopepunk
It had started simply enough: Use music to determine the tuning frequencies fed into the dimensional portal generator. Hooking up a second and connecting them using a mixer was a lark. But when the DJ started to fade from one universe of song into another?
Best. Rave. Ever.
He looked over the valley in amazement. Instead of wooded slopes on either side of the small river, there was a town that looked as if had been there for decades, with ships docked at a pier, and though it didn’t seem possible, small, winged people flitting between buildings.
He had long since lost faith in his ability to reliably predict what was and what wasn’t possible. Mystical creatures surrounded him, magic was not just real but apparently limitless, and most amazing of all, he’d been fed a dish of Brussels sprouts that was actually quite tasty.
“How is it you’ve been able to manage being isolated out here for so long?”
“I was born in 2013. My parents were fanatical antivax isolationists, so I didn’t see anyone other than them from 2020 until they died in 2033. I never developed much dependence on other people.”
She didn’t know quite when she’d first realized the fluid was seeping from her walls, or why she’d ever been tempted to taste it. But she was increasingly worried that she’d so quickly developed such a strong dependence on the substance to get her through the tedium of her day.
Though no train had come through in ages, the ties were kept clear of growth, rails shined as if they’d just been laid down, and the whole town had come out for the ritual tying of the damsel across the tracks to be saved or sacrificed at the will of their diesel powered god.
It had started about a month ago. He’d been restless in the middle of the night, and had climbed out onto the fire escape when he heard the phantom train approaching. He knew that one of these nights he’d find the tracks. He just hoped it would stop for him when he did.
The first experiments in directly accessing and manipulating human memory raised more questions than gave answers. No matter what memories were implanted, after awakening all subjects recalled one event that hadn’t occurred: the appearance of an alien craft over Seattle in 2007.
We had come so far in the years since we had left Earth. Not just in distance, but in guided evolution as well. After many generations of genetic manipulation to adapt to the low gravity environment, we had started to question whether we could still define ourselves as human.
He knew the children had asked for “an old-fashioned Halloween”, and he’d done his best, but even he was surprised by just how spooky the ships corridors were with the lighting low and the spare EVA suits like bodies, tethered near air vents to slowly drift in the low gravity.