《Retrograde & Reverie》 Midrolls Before Cinnamon Rolls TREVOR WOKE UP like he always did: to the sound of Vizi telling him it was six o''clock in the morning. Volume increasing with each declaration. They were programmed to know how loud to speak in order to bring him out of his morning sleep stage, but Trevor swore they ignored that programming with purpose. "I''m awake," he said. He coughed away thick sleep from his throat. "Excellent, it''s a beautiful day outside." Vizi''s voice carried the hint of artificial cheerfulness that Trevor still wasn''t used to. "Please ready yourself for the morning." Vizi continued talking, but Trevor''s thoughts shifted to his growling stomach. Did he eat dinner? He placed a hand on the headboard to steady the swimming room. He squinted, as if to slice through the fog veiling reality from ten hours ago. He swung his legs around and sat up, popping his back. "Any messages?" "You received one message yesterday afternoon. Your decision not to come home after work prevented me from delivering it. When you arrived home late last night, you--" "I remember, I remember." Not really. "Who''s it from?" "Your oldest brother.Reading the message from... Aaron Viale." Vizi''s voice morphed to a near perfect imitation of Trevor''s brother at the mention of his name. "Hey, just got news the seller agreed to our offer forthe house. Great price, too. Hope you''re doing good. Love you." Trevor coughed through a chuckle. He loved his brother, but he couldn''t imagine choosing to pay for a house right now. When there were other options, not a chance. As his feet hit the warm, hardwood floor beside his bed, the clean white walls of his room blinked to display a mosaic of videos and still images. ¡°How about breakfast?¡± ¡°Please ready yourself for the morning.¡± ¡°I could eat while getting ready.¡± No response. Trevor crossed the room, letting his eyes adjust to faint light now emanating from walls, to the sleek tall rectangle of a wardrobe. Trevor squinted at the glare from the screen that appeared on the wardrobe''s smooth face. What would he wear today? He gestured through several suit options, ignoring the small flashing message in red letters at the screen corner: "ACCESS LIMITED." He knew he shouldn''t put off watching extra segments the past few weeks. He kept telling himself he could catch up later, but it looked like later had arrived. He selected a plain grey shirt and pants combo, one of the outfits still available to him. A multiple choice questionnaire appeared on the screen, asking about his meal from last night. Maybe he did eat something? He shivered as another growl touched his spine. Additional questions came one after another covering a multitude of topics, and Trevor clicked through his answers, sometimes pausing to consider, other times clicking through them in seconds. He flexed his fingers between presses, trying to massage out a persistent tremble. After the tenth question, the screen lit up a satisfying green as the wardrobe opened with a hiss, a seam appearing in what looked like smooth stone. Two doors advanced forward and then opened in opposite directions to reveal his selected simple combination. "Thanks, Viz¡­" He slipped into the outfit while glancing over rotating images on the bedroom wall. He looked down at a sock in his hand, unsure how long the job of sliding the pair onto his feet had stalled out. On the third try, he succeeded and wobbled back to two feet. He pretended to ice skate across the mini-hallway to the bathroom. As he brushed his teeth, the mirror presented a handful of surveys, asking him to pick one option over the other. Asking about which brands of clothes and tech devices he preferred. Sometimes, a question or two pitched a television show versus another. Felt a bit unfair for those questions to pop up since he opted for the home package without a television. Shame. Which toothpaste did he prefer? What brand of shampoo? Which celebrity''s hairstyle did he most want to emulate? Trevor jabbed at random answers. Getting things "right" wasn''t the point. Trevor stumbled into the kitchen, his stomach insistent now. The light should have switched on, but Trevor still stood in almost darkness. He waved hands before him like someone lining up a blindfolded pinata swing. "Trevor, you seem to have forgotten to take your morning shower. It''s an important requirement of your selected morning routine." Trevor grumbled, his hand reaching for the fridge he couldn''t see. He jolted at one of his cats nipping his ankle. Looks like everyone was sticking to their morning routines... "A quick bite -- won''t take a second." He skipped back as a second cat nipped his other ankle. "Wrong bite, boys!" This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. "The routine is crucial for your well-being. You chose--" Vizi droned on, but Trevor huffed his way out of the dark kitchen and trudged back to the bathroom. He peeled off his shirt and tossed it aside, catching a glimpse of himself in the mirror. Were those special meal bars working? Programmed to your precise body''s chemical composition! He flexed. Were his arms thinner? For sure his chest looked flatter. As he turned to the side, the mirror blinked to black. "Hey, what the hell?" He frowned at the now-dark surface. "Apologies, Trevor, but mirror access is limited during your designated shower time." That was bullshit if he''d ever heard bullshit. Trevor smirked, stepping closer to the black mirror. He could still make out a faint reflection in the glossy surface. Leaning in, he squinted at a small blemish on his cheek. Random pimple or a smudge from last night? Without warning, the mirror burst to life, crisp sixty frames per second filling the glass. Trevor stumbled backward, his heel catching on the bathroom rug. He crashed against the door, wincing as his elbow knocked the knob. "Goddammit, I thought you said the mirror was off limits." Trevor rubbed his elbow. "Apologies, Trevor, but your attention started drifting. It was a gentle reminder." "Gentle my ass..." Trevor grumbled under his breath as he stepped into the shower, warmth and steam ironing out his mood. Standing under the perfect water pressure, Trevor tried to remember what he ate the night before. It was annoying him now. He thought back to leaving work. The faintest outline of him seeing friends. There''d been a thirty minute deliberation over a menu of craft beers. Burst of laughter. But that was the extent. He pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to massage the meal into focus. Trevor yelped as an icy stream hit his back. He grasped at the towel hanger to keep his footing. "Viz, what the hell are you doing? I haven''t even started anything yet!" Silence. Trevor reaching for the shampoo bottle. He squeezed a generous amount into his palm and worked it into his hair. As he built up a satisfying lather, the water shut off. "Bro, come on! Look at this shit. I need to rinse, dammit." Nothing from Vizi. Where was the chatty chatty that so much enjoyed waking him up half an hour ago? Trevor fumbled for a towel to wipe the suds now dripping in his face. As he stepped out of the shower, the bathroom door clicked open, a "gentle" reminder that he needed to move on with his day. I''m going to stick to a healthy lifestyle, he''d said. He''d never cussed out past-Trevor more than right then. He swished through the suds in his hair with his towel. Vizi at least allowed for him to run his hands under the sink faucet to douse the shampoo out. The thought of dinner with his friends flashed in his mind. "Did I happen to tell you what I had for dinner last night? Wasn''t I supposed to add it to my food journal or something?" He exited the bathroom without response. Growl. The walls of his kitchen lit up with videos showing off new kitchen appliances or delicious new recipes. The amount of dinner ideas he gathered from walking into his kitchen was staggering. Life-changing, even. For now, he looked forward to his chilled breakfast bar. Custom engineered for your taste! A delicacy he anticipated every morning. When he ignored the texture. Trevor placed his hand on the fridge''s print-reader, and its display lit up with a minute-long video. Trevor''s eyes bounced around the images on the screen, taking them in without specific interest. A meow broke his focus, and he looked down to see his two cats circling his legs. With a smile, he knelt to greet them with gentle scratches behind their ears. He glanced over to make sure Vizi''s cat food schedule had not failed, and sure enough, their bowls held the proper amount of food. His own stomach growled loud enough for the cats to perk their ears up. "Sorry," he said. With a half yawn, half chuckle, he glanced up at the video, now paused on the fridge''s display. Another meow stole his attention. He led them both over to their bowls where they started chomping down their breakfast. Trevor smiled at the enthusiasm verging on ferocity. ¡°Sure, you two go ahead.¡± Trevor''s gaze drifted to the microwave where an advertisement for a restaurant flickered across the screen. The name "Moonlight Bistro" sparked a flood of memories from the previous night. Of course! He''d talked for months about trying the new spot but never made plans before last night. The vibe of the place was perfect, worth the wait. But as Trevor tried to recall the reason for their impromptu gathering, his mind drew blank again. Did they celebrate something? A promotion, perhaps? On point, his stomach growled again. Trevor replaced his hand on the print-reader and locked eyes back on the display. It resumed at twenty-three seconds. His eyes took in the moving images, and he let himself slip into the numbness of the viewing. The display paused again, this time replacing the video with a notification of an incoming call. Aaron. Probably calling about the house thing he messaged about yesterday. Trevor reached for the "Answer" option and noticed his trembling hand. He needed that breakfast bar. He jabbed the "Decline" option and pressed his hand on the print-reader. The video wouldn''t play. "Print not recognized," the display read. Trevor removed and replaced his hand. Another error--hetried too fast. One more time: remove and replace. This time it read his print with no protest, and the video resumed at forty-eight seconds. An incoming call notification appeared on the screen again. Aaron. Trevor''s heart dropped as he hit the "Answer" option hard enough to hurt the tip of his finger. "Hey, you need something?" "Good morning to you too." Trevor rubbed at the sharp pain in his finger. "Sorry, just doing something." "Did you see my message yesterday?" "I did. Happy for you." "Feels good, man." Pause.¡°You good today? I wanted to¡ª¡± "Sorry to do this, Aaron, but I need to run. I''ve gotta finish up what I''m in the middle of." Another pause. But Aaron wished him well and ended the call. Trevor placed a now shaking hand on the print-reader once more. He managed to focus his eyes on the display enough to make the video resume. Thank the universe this video didn''t end in a quiz. He''d be so SOL. The video ended, turning the display a pleasant green color. The fridge whined open to reveal his breakfast bar. "Incoming text message from... Aaron Viale," Vizi said. The voice imitation kicked in. "Hey, sorry for bothering you. I know you''re busy. I just wanted to wish you a happy birthday. I love you and am proud of you. Miss you, bro. Hope you have a great day." Trevor snatched the bar off the otherwise bare shelf, ripped open its wax paper wrapping, and devoured the bar in the middle of his silent home while hundreds of videos danced on the walls around him. Pain & Programming: Episode 1 PAIN & PROGRAMMING part_01_broken_machines // Now // They were cowards. They were sightless. They were weak. No, they were none of those things. They were broken. Malfunctioning. She both understood them yet could not fathom their choice to leave. Mara watched dozens of figures stalk away from their settlement ¡ª away from Mara¡¯s home ¡ª across the grass fields spanning the miles beyond their known world. None of them spoke, made a sound. They just put one step in front of the other. Like a cosmic intersection, dozens of silent meteors pinged into the sky from the other direction, drawing Mara¡¯s attention from her fellow miners abandoning her crew. Not that meteor showers were uncommon on their moon. She¡¯d witnessed hundreds during her service on Colony Aveline 17. ¡°You seen Kase?¡± Babajide asked from behind her. Mara didn¡¯t look over her shoulder. The tears descending from the sky were more interesting to her. ¡°If I had, he¡¯d still be arguing with me about joining them.¡± She pointed toward the departing figures, a good way off now. ¡°See any interesting clouds up there today?¡± Jide asked, his attempt to distract her from his previous question poorly veiled. ¡°Just another meteor shower.¡± He stepped next to her. Mara punched his arm as hard as she could ¡ª nearly knocking him over ¡ª and walked to the other end of the porch. This side of the house faced the opposite way from the grass fields. She dropped into one of the four wooden rocking chairs, looking out over a vast rocky expanse. While the other way teemed with life, this was all stone and chasms. Fewer than forty meters from the porch was a sheer cliff face that plummeted more than one and a half kilometers. This was her favorite spot in the settlement. Through the screen door behind her, Mara heard a heavier wooden door squeak open and thud shut. A clatter of metal tools on a workbench. ¡°Back from the depot,¡± Kase called. Jide eased into the chair next to her. ¡°Try to be civil?¡± He kept his voice low. Mara continued to stare out over the cliff. Be quiet. That¡¯s what they wanted. Avoid the truth. Never talk about what the real issue was. The real issue was three hw-years old, and they always expected silence. Sure, Jide only wanted the best for their crew, wanted to keep things ¡°civil.¡± That was noble, considering they were stranded together on this moon. But she¡¯d felt silenced for long enough. ¡°Kase!¡± She felt more edge to her voice than she intended. But she kept it raised. ¡°Let¡¯s talk.¡± Pause. ¡°Probably for the best.¡± His voice sounded closer now, just inside the screen door. ¡°Mara¡­¡± Jide reached for the arm of her chair. An explosion filled the surrounding air. Deafening. In the same moment, a wave of energy hit Mara in the chest, bending her wooden chair backward, threatening to dump her. When she lowered the arm she shielded herself with, she saw a mountain of smoke and dust rising to the sky from the plateaus beyond her chasm. A wall of that dust and smoke barreled toward their home like a rainless thunderstorm. As the thick dust enveloped them, Mara squinted her eyes to focus on its origin. A meteor. It had impacted no more than five kilometers away. She no longer remembered what she wanted to say to Kase. She needed to get to that meteor. ***** // One Year Ago // Mara hurried through the street, struggling to keep up with the crowd of miners making their way to the launch yard. At some point last night, the humans from their colony constructed this perimeter with guarded barricades around the tarmac, a sight she wouldn¡¯t have believed if not for seeing it now herself. She¡¯d been about to descend in the mine for her shift when she first heard the rumors of this taking place. That¡¯s when she¡¯d noticed the lack of humans around her area of the settlement. On the other side of the gates, dozens of humans scrambled back and forth, some of them directing others where to place crates and flats of equipment, tools, and mined resources. All things that had been part of her life the last thirty years. It was now being loaded onto the nine remaining ships on the tarmac. The humans were leaving for good. <><><> part_02_the_problem_with_programming // Now // The dust settled with a silence that made Kase uncomfortable. The screen door had not prevented much of it from invading their small home. He reached out to let some of it cling to his hand. A collection of tiniest pebbles and shards of stone. How different had that stone fallen merely moments before, hurled from the sky. Violent, destructive. Now, its touch on the ground was barely perceptible. Kase peered through the screen door to see Mara making her way to the cliff side. Jide followed her, keeping his distance. The falling dust wasn¡¯t the only thing making Kase uncomfortable. He did truly feel terrible that he and Mara were at such odds. Everything came down to the fact that she wouldn¡¯t move on from this life, and not only that, but she wouldn¡¯t let him move on either. Same with Jide. Kase had spoken to him privately on a number of occasions, more and more recently, about wanting to leave, see what else was on this barely inhabited rock. Follow the hundreds of other colony members who had left in the past year. Jide wanted out just as badly as Kase. Poor man. He simply couldn¡¯t shake the compulsion to keep the peace between the three of them. Just as he was programmed to. As Kase stepped onto the porch, he wiped a hand across the illuminated round core in the middle of his chest. He felt the grime come off. These cores, and their circuitry of instruction, were the problems. The computer chips inside them giving Kase, Jide, and Mara their directives--their purpose. They were the problem. Jide stood midway between Kase and Mara. Mara was right at the cliff¡¯s edge, where she often sat for hours. Kase walked next to their foreman. Well, former foreman. Jide¡¯s own core still glowed yellow, denoting that position, however. For the man¡¯s own sake, Kase wished he could rip the core from his chest, and he¡¯d still be fine. Why couldn¡¯t they all do that? If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. ¡°Everything¡¯d be much simpler,¡± he muttered. Jide looked at him. Kase shook his head, dismissing the unverbalized question. ¡°This unfortunately won¡¯t make anything simple,¡± the man said. ¡°This meteor will be like all the others. I already know she wants to go mine it. You¡¯ll give in, and we¡¯ll all three be making our way there tomorrow morning.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t give in.¡± ¡°Just doing you¡¯re¡­job. I know. Like her. But it¡¯s been a year now, and seems like everyone else has been able to move on.¡± ¡°I¡¯ve said a hundred times that I understand and agree. I wish we could do something.¡± ¡°We can leave. We can leave.¡± Jide laughed out loud. ¡°If it were just like that, you could leave. But you haven¡¯t. Why? Because it¡¯s not that simple. Like I¡¯ve told you before, don¡¯t pin any of this on me. If we don¡¯t three go, we don¡¯t go, and that¡¯s the way it is.¡± Kase fought off another urge to rip out his own core. ¡°We¡¯re the last ones left.¡± ¡°I figured.¡± ¡°Sten at the depot headed out in the group earlier today. Told me whatever he had left in the shop was mine. He was only taking what he could carry. We¡¯re all that¡¯s left.¡± ¡°When the colony officially shut down a year ago, we knew this would be inevitable. We¡¯ve had nothing to do. Not everybody was going to just hang around forever.¡± ¡°I just didn¡¯t think I¡¯d be one of the ones who did.¡± Kase relaxed the fists he hadn¡¯t known were clenched. ¡°Because of Mara.¡± ¡°Careful.¡± Jide¡¯s voice held the edge of a supervisor again. Kase almost missed it. ¡°I know it¡¯s not fair to say. And I hate being like this, but I am. She thinks I don¡¯t understand what it¡¯s like for her, but I do. I start every day fighting the innate instructions in my core. It takes effort a lot of willpower to defy them, but I do. And she could too.¡± ¡°You¡¯re telling me like I don¡¯t do it too.¡± Jide turned back toward the house. ¡°You both wear me out. You can tell her that you won¡¯t help mine the meteor.¡± He hesitated for a moment. ¡°I feel bad for her in a way, I admit, that I can¡¯t feel for you. I¡¯m¡­sorry.¡± ¡°I do too,¡± Kase said. Jide returned to the house, leaving Kase to an inevitable argument with Mara. They didn¡¯t used to fight, find themselves at odds over everything. Truthfully, they weren¡¯t at odds over everything ¡ª just the most important thing. <><><> part_03_rage_and_regret // One Year Ago // ¡°Mara!¡± Jide¡¯s voice cut through the chaos. She whirled to see him pressing closer to the nearest gate with a few dozen other miners. His usually stoic face betrayed clear confusion. Even as a foreman, he¡¯d evidently not been warned about the humans¡¯ departure either. Kase stood next to him but didn¡¯t look her way. The taller man jostled with the growing crowd, trying his best to see over everything and see what was happening on the other side of the recently built concrete slabs and bars. Mara wiggled her way through the multiple dozens of miners joining the primary street connected to the launch yard. They all wanted to know the same thing: what was happening to them. Most of the human¡¯s infrastructure was being loaded into the ships, so how much room could be left for more than three hundred miners? ¡°How long have they been working on this?¡± Mara demanded as soon as she was close enough for Jide to hear her. ¡°On this disassembly? Since just after sundown last night. That¡¯s why overnight shift was cancelled, apparently. To give them time while we were charging. But how long has the departure been planned? Who knows. The execution we¡¯re seeing seems like a mature plan.¡± Mara felt an emptiness inside her. What about their work? The colony had hardly reached its potential nor had it exhausted all the resources in this area specifically. She didn¡¯t think other settlements had cleaned their sites dry either. In fact, it seemed like every new branch of underground they explored produced more and more riches. ¡°Kase, no!¡± Jide¡¯s voice pulled Mara from her thoughts. She saw Kase push deeper into the throng of miners, right up to the gate. Mara couldn¡¯t see his face, but she imagined the level of rage exuding from his eyes. She¡¯d seen that rage plenty of times over the course of their thirty years together. She thought she even heard his voice carrying over all the shouting. Pleading. ¡°They¡¯re leaving us,¡± Jide yelled into her ear. What an obvious observation. ¡°We don¡¯t necessarily know that,¡± Mara offered. ¡°I haven¡¯t known how to tell you and Kase for weeks. They¡¯ve been leaving - dozens of ships over the last few months. None of them have come back. I keep asking, and they keep making excuses. Now I see why.¡± She didn¡¯t know what to say. If it were true, what was clear to her was that the humans¡¯ offworlding strategy had started a while ago. The miners weren¡¯t seeing the beginning of it -- they were seeing the end. Mara stood taller, craning over the heads in front of her and catching a glimpse of Kase screaming at a guard. He grabbed the human with both hands. Had she ever seen a miner touch a human before? Was that prohibited? Wanting to keep Kase from doing something he wouldn¡¯t be able to take back later, Mara surged deeper into the crowd, Jide calling after her. Kase often lost his temper with Jide and Mara, but they were his crewmates -- he could ¡°speak his mind¡± with them. That might not go over well with the humans, though. As Mara squeezed through another line of miners, it didn¡¯t look like it was going well. Two other guards stepped beside the original one, now all leaning into Kase¡¯s space. The tall miner didn¡¯t back down. He never did. She pushed through the last line and fell into her crewmate. He wheeled around, not knowing it was her initially. Their eyes met, and she barely recognized him: those orbs were dark and distant. They were equal parts furious and terrified. Kase was as lost as he was angry. ¡°Kase, come back with us,¡± Mara said as Jide put a hand on Kase¡¯s shoulder. She knew he wouldn¡¯t listen because he never listened. Even Jide had trouble getting through to him when Kase was this far gone. He tore away from Jide¡¯s grasp, shoved into the three guards, and ignited a frenzy. In the jostling, Mara went to the ground in a heap, fighting not to accidentally get trampled. When she crawled back to her feet, Kase was already on the other side of the gate. The sound of a bell tone rang throughout the tarmac and surrounding area, and Mara started. An alarm. They were going to terminate Kase as their last act on this moon. ***** // Now // Kase¡¯s argument with Mara wasn¡¯t as long and drawn out as previous ones. Maybe it¡¯s because they¡¯ve used up everything they have to say. How many times could he tell her that he no longer wanted to mine this moon like he was programmed? That he no longer wanted to adhere to the will of their overseers who had left them an entire year before. He would not join her if she tried to mine that meteor, and she should honestly forget about it, herself. He told her as much. Kase turned and walked back to the house even slower than he¡¯d seen Jide minutes before. Why did every fight with Mara have to end with him feeling like the villain? Maybe he was. No. He wouldn¡¯t allow himself to start believing that. It was an easy way to remain in this settlement until their cores fizzled out. An existence he refused to imagine. As he reached for the screen door, he felt Mara¡¯s eyes drilling into him, but he didn¡¯t turn around. If he saw her eyes, he¡¯d be crossing that chasm first thing in the morning and hating himself every second of it. And he had spent his last day hating himself. Kase¡¯s workshop, attached to the side of the house, welcomed him like nowhere else on this now mostly-barren rock. It felt alive in a way that not even he felt now. Alive with a purpose. Even though, technically he did have a purpose, just not one he accepted any longer. Sitting down in front of the glowing screens on his desk, he typed a string of code and executed it. Symbols and figures danced before his eyes. This had been his purpose for the better part of three months. This was what he¡¯d traded every last of his meaningless credits at the dead settlement depot attempting. He would discover a way to rewrite their programming. The lines of symbols stopped and returned to a blank, hopeless, lifeless screen. But it wouldn¡¯t be today. The box of core chips he¡¯d purchased earlier sat one a table nearby. Sten had all but given them away to him, clearing out most of his stock. The man was trekking out on his own and had little use for core chips or credits. Kase would be forever grateful. These final fifty chips gave him a hope, however thin of a shred it was. He hummed a long, sustained note, harmonizing with a whir of noise he heard emitting from one of his machines. He was about to do something, and he didn¡¯t like himself for it. Wasn¡¯t full on hate. But he disliked himself for sure. The small silver sphere rested where he¡¯d nearly used it twice before. It was no thicker than the width of his thumb. He picked it up and tossed it from one hand to the other and back again. Kase crossed the small hallway to Mara¡¯s storage room. This was where she still kept all of her mining equipment. She¡¯d no doubtedly be using this same equipment tomorrow morning. Kase stepped over to her backpack of essentials. He reached just inside the zipper and pried open a false flap he¡¯d created a few months back. The sphere fit in it with precision. Some days, Kase believed Mara was delusional and intentionally stubborn. But he knew she was neither of those things. She was broken. Malfunctioning. He completely understood why--the strings of code which were programmed throughout her very existence--and yet, with the inescapable desires coursing through him, he could not understand her at all. <><><> To be continued in part_04_asymmetrical_solitude...