"A single room, hmm?" Isolde said, glancing around. "Are you plotting sothing, Mister—Julius?"
She corrected herself halfway through.
"A single room is all my brother could get, unfortunately," Julius replied. "But it’s alright. You can take the main bed. I’ll request extra bedding."
"It’s fine."
"Huh?"
"Let’s just share the bed."
Julius paused.
The room itself was luxurious. Wide panels of reinforced glass curved along one wall, offering an uninterrupted view of space beyond the station’s shield. Just a glance, and you could see the stars.
The furnishing gave off a Sci-Fi feel straight out of a movie. Soft, adjustable lighting lined the floor and ceiling. At the mont, it was neon blue.
Julius looked back at Isolde.
"...Are you sure?"
She shrugged and sat down on the bed. The staff had already brought their luggage in beforehand.
"Having the big bed all to myself when you’re the one who secured the tickets would feel wrong," she said. "Either I take the extra bed, or we both take the big one."
"I’ve been told I kick in my sleep."
"Then I’ll just make sure you kick my back."
Julius paused, then let out a breath that was almost a laugh.
"Look, Julius," Isolde said, leaning forward toward the control panel embedded in the wall. "It says zero gravity."
"Huh."
Before he could add anything else, she pressed it.
Julius felt the weight leave his body first. His heels lifted slightly from the floor before he realized it was happening.
Isolde let out a gasp as she rose a few centiters off the bed.
"...Oh."
Slowly, gently, as if caught in a current.
Their movents felt delayed, and every small motion sent them gliding farther than intended. Julius instinctively reached out to the bedfra to stabilize himself.
Strangely enough, nothing else moved.
The furniture remained anchored. Even the loose objects on the desk did not so much as shake.
"Localized field?" Julius muttered. "Seems like selective gravity suspension."
Isolde laughed as she floated closer without aning to.
"That’s unfair," she said. "We float, but the room doesn’t."
"It’d be a disaster otherwise," Julius replied. "Imagine chasing your clothes around the room."
She tilted slightly, arms spreading as she tested the sensation.
"But that’s strange," Isolde said. "Since when were you knowledgeable enough about space tech?"
"...."
Perhaps it was a lingering attachnt from his ti as Dimitri. A habit ford out of necessity. If he didn’t research beforehand, his cover would be blown.
"Habits, I guess."
"Hmm..." Isolde humd thoughtfully. "What were you called again? Dimitri?"
"...."
Sothing inside Julius snapped at once.
The warmth drained from his expression, as if a switch had been flipped.
The ease he had monts ago vanished, replaced by a look of isolation. His posture straightened without conscious thought. Even his gaze hardened, losing its softness entirely.
For a split second, it was no longer Julius floating there.
It was Dimitri.
The air between them felt colder.
"Julius?"
Julius didn’t even regard her. He just looked around the room, as if it were sothing worth studying.
"Julius?"
His thoughts were no longer his own.
’If I schedule the testing on Saturday, I’ll have enough ti to et Yuliya on Monday. No, that’s too inconvenient. Schedule it on Friday—’
"Mister Schneider!"
"Yuliya—"
The na left his mouth before he could stop it, snapping him out of his thoughts.
Isolde tilted her head in confusion.
"Who’s Yuliya?"
"Ah."
He fucked up.
* * *
The tour continued.
Before them stretched a vast terraced space, layered vertically instead of horizontally.
Platforms rose and fell at different heights, connected by slow-moving lifts and translucent walkways.
"This is the Zero-Field Arboretum," the guide continued. "Plants grown in fluctuating gravity environnts."
Vines waved upward instead of down. Trees grew in spirals. Their roots seed to be suspended in nutrient mist rather than soil.
Isolde slowed her steps.
"They’re floating..."
"Partially," the guide said. "Their growth patterns adapt in real ti. So of these species cannot survive under constant gravity anymore."
They moved on.
Beyond the arboretum was a circular chamber filled with translucent tanks arranged like petals around a central hub. Inside each tank, liquid refracted light into different hues.
"This is the Cryo-Archive, where we store genetic records of extinct ecosystems stored at the molecular level."
"Ooh."
"Not all of these will ever be revived," the guide added. "So are preserved simply so they are not forgotten."
The next section opened into a wide observation hall. No glass separated them from space here. Stars stretched endlessly as far as the eye could see.
"This area exists solely for orientation," the guide said. "Long-term exposure to orbital environnts can distort perception. This hall reminds visitors where they are."
Isolde stopped near the edge, staring out into the void.
"This is very nice."
Julius stood beside her in silence.
"At the far end," the guide said, breaking the mont, "is the Helios Core Exhibit. Restricted to this habitat alone."
They followed him one last ti.
Within the chamber, a massive structure rotated slowly. Rings of light orbited a dense central mass.
"This is the prototype for sustained orbital civilization," the guide said. "Of course, it’s only a glimpse of what could be. Of humanity’s future beyond Earth."
Julius glanced around from one structure to the next when soone suddenly hovered far closer to him than expected.
"Are you Mister Schneider?"
"Uh?"
A woman floated directly into his personal space. She had deep black hair and sharp, slanted eyes, clearly of Asian descent. A lab coat hung over her figure. From the look of it, she worked here.
The guide let out a tired sigh.
"Miss Chae," he said. "Please move away from the guest. It’s bad manners. How many tis must you be told?"
"Hehe." The woman leaned back, giving Julius a grin. "Hello, Mister Schneider. Big fan."
Her German had a rich, distinctly Arican accent. It was an odd mismatch, considering her appearance.
"I’m Chae Eunah," she said. "Associate Director of the Helios Orbital Habitat."
"Korean?" Julius asked.
"By origin. I grew up in the States, though."
"Hm." Julius t her gaze. "What might you need from , Miss Chae?"
"What do you think of fiction, Mister Schneider?"
"Fiction?"
The guide sighed again. "My apologies, Mister Schneider. Miss Chae has a... hyperfixation on ga developnt."
"Is that so?" Julius turned back to her. "Fiction, then. If it’s related to gas, or perhaps fiction in general, I’d say it’s like another dinsion, perhaps?"
Chae Eunah’s eyes lit up at once.
"Right? Right?!" she said, moving closer in excitent. "That’s exactly it! Oh my gosh! Soone actually gets it!"
She clasped her hands together, barely containing herself.
"Fiction isn’t just stories," Chae Eunah continued. "It’s a controlled reality! You step inside, and suddenly the world makes sense in a way the real one doesn’t!"
Julius listened, intrigued.
"You build a space," she went on, "and people inhabit it. They suffer in it. Grow in it. Sotis they even beco more real than the people outside!"
The guide cleared his throat pointedly.
"Miss Chae..."
"Right, right." She waved him off, then looked back at Julius with a grin. "Sorry. Occupational hazard."
Isolde, who had been watching quietly, spoke up at last.
"You sound very passionate, Miss Chae."
"I am," Chae Eunah replied imdiately. "Because Helios isn’t just about space itself. It’s about worlds. Of what lies beyond the vast unknown."
She gestured around them, to the dos, the glass, the stars from every direction.
"And soday, I want to build one that people can live in without ever leaving the ground!"
Julius regarded her with curiosity. "A world that replaces reality?"
"No, no." Chae Eunah shook her head quickly. "A world that exists as a data backup."
"Data backup?"
"Think about it. Let’s say aliens really do exist. What happens if they take over the planet? Where do we go? Do we get leashed? Do we surrender?"
"Uh..."
"Or, what if the Moon suddenly gets way too close and crashes into Earth? What are you supposed to do then? Fly off to another planet?"
She scoffed.
"Where’s the guarantee that works?"
Isolde watched, half-amused and half-stunned at the absurdity of this all.
"So instead," Chae Eunah went on, "we prepare sothing in advance. A contained world. A closed system."
She gestured vaguely, as if shaping sothing invisible in the air.
"A replica of Earth. Down to molecular behavior, the physics, its biological structure—heck, even the climates. A place where humanity can jump ship instantly in the event of total calamity!"
Julius didn’t even know how to address her anymore. She sounded like a total madwoman.
"You’re talking about a full-scale simulated reality."
"Yes," Chae Eunah said brightly. "But not just a simulation. A preservation environnt where consciousness can be instantly transferred! A continuity of self!"
She leaned closer, eyes sparkling.
"People wouldn’t even feel the transition. One mont the world ends. The next, they wake up and everything is still there!"
"That’s... a little extre," Isolde murmured.
"Extre problems need extre contingencies!" Chae Eunah replied. "Helios preserves life! I want to preserve civilization!"
Julius was quiet for a long mont.
"...And who decides when humanity gets backed up?" he asked.
Chae paused. Her smile softened.
"That," she said, "is the hard part."
For the first ti, the excitent gave way to sothing heavier.
"But if we don’t build it," she added, "soone else will. And they won’t ask questions first."
"A world you can escape into..."
He looked at her again.
"...You’re not talking about fiction anymore."
Chae Eunah grinned. "I never was."
Before either of them could respond, she slipped a card into Julius’s hand.
"If you’re ever interested, Mister Schneider, do give a call," she said. "I believe we’ll et again very, very soon!’
[Chae Eunah
Marblenet Gas
Lead Developer]
By the ti Julius and Isolde looked up, Chae Eunah was already walking away.
"...What an odd woman."
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