My partner has one of the Percepterol implants. She uses it to tag names to faces, so we got it on PBS.

Anyway, I was scrolling my news feed, and saw an alert about a manditory product recall on Percepterol implants, so I asked "Hey, sweety, have you had a ping from Percepterol about the recall?"
"No, I've not seen anything."
So I showed her the article. That was when things got weird.
"It's great to see that Percepterol is doing so much to help war refugees" she said.
I looked over her shoulder, and I saw the recall notice.
That's why I'm calling 000. My wife needs to have the implant updated or removed immediately, and is not able to request it for herself.
"Thank you for your call, but triple zero is not the correct number to call to complement a private company for their compassionate works."
Fuck.

#SF #SFF #Horror #IAmWriting #microfic #tootfic #microfiction #scifi

Inspired by a comment by @NanoRaptor about AI screwing with people's perceptions.

My partner has one of the Percepterol implants. She uses it to tag names to faces, so we got it on PBS.

Anyway, I was scrolling my news feed, and saw an alert about a manditory product recall on Percepterol implants, so I asked "Hey, sweety, have you had a ping from Percepterol about the recall?"
"No, I've not seen anything."
So I showed her the article. That was when things got weird.
"It's great to see that Percepterol is doing so much to help war refugees" she said.
I looked over her shoulder, and I saw the recall notice.
That's why I'm calling 000. My wife needs to have the implant updated or removed immediately, and is not able to request it for herself.
"Thank you for your call, but triple zero is not the correct number to call to complement a private company for their compassionate works."
Fuck.

#SF #SFF #Horror #IAmWriting #microfic #tootfic #microfiction #scifi

Inspired by a comment by @NanoRaptor about AI screwing with people's perceptions.

It is a popular mathematical experiment to try and work out just how fast Santa has to be to reach every house with a child in a single 24 hour period.

The calculations always end up with a significant fraction of the speed of light.

There then usually follow discussions about what the collateral damage from Santa's passing would be. And cargo limits, and so on.

All of these are wrong, and ignore another end-of-year tradition. The portrayal of the ending year as an old man.

Now that I've put these two traditions side-by-side, I think you can see what is really going on.

It is possible for one man to visit every house in a night, with no shock waves or any of that silliness. But it comes at a cost.

For that man, the night lasts many years, as he travels back in time after each visit. Even with time travel, he does not get much time to eat - so the snacks you leave out are essential to him surviving the night.

But he only just survives. By the end of the night he will have aged over forty years. And then he hands the reins of the time-travelling sleigh to a younger man, warning him of the cost.

Someone always answers the call, despite the cost, because there is always someone willing to sacrifice everything to bring joy and light, even just a little, even if only for a moment.

So leave the snacks, and, if you catch a glimpse of him, give him a bow of respect. He deserves it.

#SFF #SF #Christmas #Santa #microfiction #microfic #tootfic #IAmWriting

It is a popular mathematical experiment to try and work out just how fast Santa has to be to reach every house with a child in a single 24 hour period.

The calculations always end up with a significant fraction of the speed of light.

There then usually follow discussions about what the collateral damage from Santa's passing would be. And cargo limits, and so on.

All of these are wrong, and ignore another end-of-year tradition. The portrayal of the ending year as an old man.

Now that I've put these two traditions side-by-side, I think you can see what is really going on.

It is possible for one man to visit every house in a night, with no shock waves or any of that silliness. But it comes at a cost.

For that man, the night lasts many years, as he travels back in time after each visit. Even with time travel, he does not get much time to eat - so the snacks you leave out are essential to him surviving the night.

But he only just survives. By the end of the night he will have aged over forty years. And then he hands the reins of the time-travelling sleigh to a younger man, warning him of the cost.

Someone always answers the call, despite the cost, because there is always someone willing to sacrifice everything to bring joy and light, even just a little, even if only for a moment.

So leave the snacks, and, if you catch a glimpse of him, give him a bow of respect. He deserves it.

#SFF #SF #Christmas #Santa #microfiction #microfic #tootfic #IAmWriting

Holly lowered herself down from the skylight. Down here on the exhibition hall floor there were no alarms, except on the cases themselves.

She had two hours before a guard did his rounds, and she had a lot to do. First she tugged on the looped second rope, and carefully lowered the large box.

Next, she gently nudged two of the display cases, just a few centimeters at a time, keeping a close eye on the thin wires that connected them to the alarm system. When they were 45 centimeters apart she stopped.

Next she opened the box, and lifted out the display case inside it. It was modeled exactly on the same style of case that the museum used, and even had small wear and scuff marks. Delicately, she pushed it into place, and then used a small puffer to put just the smallest amount of dust on the top.

Opening her case, she made sure everything was in position, and then closed it and locked it. Then she put her tools back into the large box and sealed it.

She was just hooking herself back onto the climbing rope when a gravelly voice came from behind "Most people break in to steal something."

She spun around and shone her torch trying to see where the voice came from. "Over here", it rattled out again.

The light settled on an open sarcophagus. Inside, the mummy was sitting up, watching her through the bandages. She gulped as it stood and walked over to the new case.

"Interesting. Where did you get a dragon skeleton from?"
"Err... I made it? It's modeled on Mom."
"You are half dragon?"
"No, I'm adopted."
"By a dragon family."
"Well, Dad is human."
"I see. And this?"
"Art?"
"You are not sure?"
"Uh, no? It's just that...um..."
"I'm a four thousand year old mummy?"
"Yes."
"And your mother is a dragon. It is All Hallows as they call it now."
"Oh."
"Anyway, the guards will be coming by soon enough, and you had better be on your way. I will watch what happens with interest.

Holly got going.
-----

"I tell you, Miche, this place gets creepy at night."
"Look, Nick, it's just a museum. It's not like the exhibits are going to get up and move around."
"I dunno. I mean look at that mummy. I swear it has moved since we last did our rounds."
"Don't be stupid, how could a four thousand year old corpse move around?" Michelle shook her head. "You are such a scaredy cat. How did you end up a security guard anyway?"
"I figured guarding a museum was a pretty safe job?"

The two guards continued on their way, arguing.

Behind them, the mummy looked over to the taxidermied bear, and put a finger to where the lips would be. The bear shrugged.

#SF #SFF #microfic #tootfic #microfiction #halloween #NotHorror #IAmWriting

Holly lowered herself down from the skylight. Down here on the exhibition hall floor there were no alarms, except on the cases themselves.

She had two hours before a guard did his rounds, and she had a lot to do. First she tugged on the looped second rope, and carefully lowered the large box.

Next, she gently nudged two of the display cases, just a few centimeters at a time, keeping a close eye on the thin wires that connected them to the alarm system. When they were 45 centimeters apart she stopped.

Next she opened the box, and lifted out the display case inside it. It was modeled exactly on the same style of case that the museum used, and even had small wear and scuff marks. Delicately, she pushed it into place, and then used a small puffer to put just the smallest amount of dust on the top.

Opening her case, she made sure everything was in position, and then closed it and locked it. Then she put her tools back into the large box and sealed it.

She was just hooking herself back onto the climbing rope when a gravelly voice came from behind "Most people break in to steal something."

She spun around and shone her torch trying to see where the voice came from. "Over here", it rattled out again.

The light settled on an open sarcophagus. Inside, the mummy was sitting up, watching her through the bandages. She gulped as it stood and walked over to the new case.

"Interesting. Where did you get a dragon skeleton from?"
"Err... I made it? It's modeled on Mom."
"You are half dragon?"
"No, I'm adopted."
"By a dragon family."
"Well, Dad is human."
"I see. And this?"
"Art?"
"You are not sure?"
"Uh, no? It's just that...um..."
"I'm a four thousand year old mummy?"
"Yes."
"And your mother is a dragon. It is All Hallows as they call it now."
"Oh."
"Anyway, the guards will be coming by soon enough, and you had better be on your way. I will watch what happens with interest.

Holly got going.
-----

"I tell you, Miche, this place gets creepy at night."
"Look, Nick, it's just a museum. It's not like the exhibits are going to get up and move around."
"I dunno. I mean look at that mummy. I swear it has moved since we last did our rounds."
"Don't be stupid, how could a four thousand year old corpse move around?" Michelle shook her head. "You are such a scaredy cat. How did you end up a security guard anyway?"
"I figured guarding a museum was a pretty safe job?"

The two guards continued on their way, arguing.

Behind them, the mummy looked over to the taxidermied bear, and put a finger to where the lips would be. The bear shrugged.

#SF #SFF #microfic #tootfic #microfiction #halloween #NotHorror #IAmWriting

The siege of the bank had been going on for hours. Scores of police blocked off the street, and on top of a nearby building a TV news crew broadcast the standoff to a waiting nation.

Then the crew noticed movement. A young woman, dressed in a black skirt,leather vest, and Doc Martins, wearing headphones, was making her way through the police lines. She spoke to no-one, but no-one tried to stop her. She walked up to the front door of the bank, and went inside.

After a few minutes, the bank robbers and the hostages all started filing out, most of them with their heads hung low, some crying. One of the bank robbers raised a gun to his own head, and then just gave up, dropped it, and sat down, head in his hands.

From the flanks, the police moved in and secured everyone. The police in the centre did nothing at all. A few of them had likewise sat down and appeared to be oblivious to what was going on around them.

The news crews closed in.

Getting a coherent story out of anyone proved difficult. Most people just asked what the point was. Some shrugged and said nothing at all. Eventually the news crews pieced together what had happened. Wherever the young woman had walked, people around her were struck with a sense of hopelessness, despair, or just all consuming apathy. Those on the edges were least affected, those closest, the most.

The rooftop news crew kept watch as the crowds slowly dispersed. After an hour or so the mystery woman walked out, looked around, looked up at the news crew and gave them the finger. Then she walked off, the world just a little greyer and duller as she passed.

The city had a new hero. The Goth. And she didn't care.

#Goth #Superhero #SFF #SF #microfic #tootfic #microfiction #IAmWriting

The siege of the bank had been going on for hours. Scores of police blocked off the street, and on top of a nearby building a TV news crew broadcast the standoff to a waiting nation.

Then the crew noticed movement. A young woman, dressed in a black skirt,leather vest, and Doc Martins, wearing headphones, was making her way through the police lines. She spoke to no-one, but no-one tried to stop her. She walked up to the front door of the bank, and went inside.

After a few minutes, the bank robbers and the hostages all started filing out, most of them with their heads hung low, some crying. One of the bank robbers raised a gun to his own head, and then just gave up, dropped it, and sat down, head in his hands.

From the flanks, the police moved in and secured everyone. The police in the centre did nothing at all. A few of them had likewise sat down and appeared to be oblivious to what was going on around them.

The news crews closed in.

Getting a coherent story out of anyone proved difficult. Most people just asked what the point was. Some shrugged and said nothing at all. Eventually the news crews pieced together what had happened. Wherever the young woman had walked, people around her were struck with a sense of hopelessness, despair, or just all consuming apathy. Those on the edges were least affected, those closest, the most.

The rooftop news crew kept watch as the crowds slowly dispersed. After an hour or so the mystery woman walked out, looked around, looked up at the news crew and gave them the finger. Then she walked off, the world just a little greyer and duller as she passed.

The city had a new hero. The Goth. And she didn't care.

#Goth #Superhero #SFF #SF #microfic #tootfic #microfiction #IAmWriting

"This artifact must be extremely old, the inscriptions on it are written in the language of the Gods."

"Really? Wow, Aramaic? Egyptian? Sanskrit?"

"No, perl."

#microfic

It started slowly.

Seattle-based companies made the move to Vancouver, with generous re-location packages.

The Valley, bit by bit, moved northward, first capitalising on the cheaper real estate in Portland and Seattle, then joining the ex-SFats in Canada.

---

SoCal had crumbled a decade prior - the nexus of water-guzzling, power-sucking AIs that mimicked Hollywood actors only worked as long as there was water and power - and Hollywood actors to mimic.

The LA fires of '32 had destroyed so much infrastructure the city was broke - and dry.
And once they'd been cloned and recast as AI avatars of themselves, actors retired - on albeit reduced residuals. No-one flew to LAX with a dream and a cardigan. Those left were either ICE agents or Undocumented they hunted.

---

The Big Beautiful Bill had exactly the intended effect - an unbridgeable chasm between rich and poor. You either had capital or you died - usually from something preventable like gum disease or pneumonia.

Those with capital moved north.

Those who only had labour - human, devalued yet expensive, connective yet computed labour - stayed. Inflation grew. The $USD sank.

The future, as the Great Dismal wrote, was already here - it just wasn't evenly distributed.

Five eyes became three when Australia and Aotearoa ripped up ANZUS in '30. Canada followed and Starmer, enjoying an unprecedented fourth term in a time of turmoil, made it one in '31.

---

NoCal took a little longer - the vulture capitalists hanging on to the carrion of would-be unicorns, hoping to get a RoI.

After adding AI to everything, they had to enshittify to get a return. Inferencing a 5Q parameter model doesn't scale, even with a Redis cache the size of Sonoma county.

AI had, paradoxically, re-ignited the Open Source movement, who, determinists at heart, rejected the stochastic musings of the Bullshit Machines.

A team from Eleuther paired up with Wikipedia and dropped a reciprocal-licensed distilled RAG model that inferenced quicker than DeepSeek. They might have had help from CC Signals, who reached out to people interested in opening their information - but not for profit.

Then they used BitTorrent to do results caching. Inference cost dropped to marginal. A couple of big names saw, ahem, a slight decrease in market cap.

---

Anyway, enough of the history lesson!

We're delighted to welcome you to Victoria Island, the new headquarters of FAANG, Inc.

We've pivoted a little in the last few years, and now most of our work involves geo-engineering so we can stay under 3 degrees.

We like it here, and we hope you do, too.

#TootFic#AlternateHistory#MicroFic#MicroFiction