Microstory 2655: Shadow of the Throne

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They’re here. They’re in Loegria, specifically just outside the walls of Camelot’s lower town. It was a fine walk all the way out here, which is part of the immersive experience. There were no trains in the middle ages, so the castle is a full forty-two kilometers from the entrance. For a normal person in those days, that might have taken a couple of days, or more, including rest. Many come to this dome with intentionally low-grade substrates to really feel the antiquity of it all. Team Ravensgate doesn’t care about that experience. They just need to get the job done. It takes them four hours of sustained powerwalking. The clothing was the most difficult part. In order to be let through the gates, they decided to travel as nobles, and people like that dressed for attention, not comfort or practicality. Reagan has it the worst. He’s portraying a knight.

“I speak the language, so let me do the talking,” Mandica encourages. “This dome is not a hundred percent accurate. Women and people of color are not treated as second-class citizens. The NPCs are programmed to ignore it.” They draw nearer. “Good morrow, kind sir!” she calls up to one of the guards. “We are travelers to Glastonbury, and require one night of rest. Is there room at the inn for three ladies and their knight?”

The guard stares daggers before reaching behind his back and taking out a parchment. He unrolls it, and leans over to the side to show the other guard. It appears they are comparing something on it to the team. He clears his throat. “You have been expected, Lady Raven of Dakota, The Hollow Red Woman, and the Shadow of Doubt.”

“Please enter,” the other guard adds as the gates are opening for them. “Make your way to the tiltyard for your challenge.” He chortles. “I do not like your odds.”

“We did not sign up to joust,” Mandica informs them.

“You are on the list, you are fighting in the grand mêlée,” he replies with a shrug.

“Morgana knows we’re here,” Reagan guesses as they’re walking through.

The lower town is exactly how you would think. The first thing they see is the market, where locals, neighboring farmers, and travelers are selling their wares. The road leads up the mountain, towards the castle. They don’t know precisely where the tiltyard is, but it’s the biggest tourist attraction in the land, so it will be obvious enough. Mandica did not look too much into how it works when you legitimately sign up to visit this dome. Do you start as a serf, and try to work your way up, or is it like Ravensgate, where you get to write your full character sheet? Malika made herself rich in Underbelly, and that was fine since not everyone finds that to be the best gaming experience. They may have rules against that here, however. Perhaps all other nobles are NPCs. Anyone they come across could be a visitor, and if they are, will be a lot less likely to break character than people in Underbelly. They’re not just playing cops and robbers, but living an ancestral life 24-7. Being truly immersed is the entire purpose.

They continue up the mountain. The townspeople scowl until they think they’ve been caught, then turn away to avoid punishment. They knew they wouldn’t have a lot of fans, dressed like this. It was necessary to get through that gate without issue. Though, they didn’t expect to be let in quite that easily, or be expected. But it’s fine. If Morgana wants to fight, they can fight. That’s why they came here prepared.

They make it to the tiltyard, which is full of people. A runner apparently beat them here so he could warn the Marshal of their arrival. The stands are completely full. The audience begins to cheer uproariously when the four of them enter the grounds. Morgana didn’t only send word to her guardsmen. She prepared the whole town. She wants to make a show of it. She probably wants to humiliate them.

The Knight Marshal stands on his platform, and begins to bellow his announcement. He tells false tales of where the four of them come from, making up annoyingly elaborate backstories, which the governing AI must have developed for them since they didn’t take the time to write their own. They’re expected to stand there and look confident or scared. They don’t have time. “Excuse me?” Jaidia interrupts.

The Knight Marshal glares at her before turning back to the crowd so all can hear. “You will have your chance to speak when I am finished!”

“Right, but is Morgana here?” Jaidia continues.

“Or Morgan le Fay?” Mandica adds, not sure which name they use for her here.

“Lady Morgana is in Avalon, where she—hey! Hey!” He’s getting mad because the four of them are simply leaving. “Hey, I have this whole introduction planned! I’ve been working on this all day! It’s not easy to speak in this weird Chaucerian shit!”

“Save your complaint for your review!” Malika argues back.

A wiry little man skitters up to them as they’re leaving. “Seek ye the road to Avalon? I know the way. Lady Morgana, she lays traps for those who would do her harm. If you are not pure of heart, or sharp as steel, you may wander for days in a circle that looks straight. I can shine a light upon the true path. I am a humble man. All I ask—”

Mandica strikes him in the chest with her open palm, sending him crashing into the brush in the ditch. Her friends are neither bothered, nor confused. “That’s enough, shapeshifter! We’re taking you to Castledome, where you will face judgment!”

The impostor smirks as he’s standing back up. His skin mutates into nanites, and begin to crawl all over his body, changing shape, changing color, and changing her size. A dark mist swarms her for effect. The statuesque Morgana stands before them. She breathes with an unsettlingly bright smile, as if this form is more comfortable, though if she is made entirely of nanobots, it doesn’t feel like anything, and any preference for form would be merely psychological. She’s not even breathing at all. “Do you really want to have this anachronistic fight here?” she asks with a cackle. “Steward wants to bring me in for breaking the rules. You would break them in service to your fool’s quest?”

“Sure.” Reagan takes out his decoherence gun, and shoots Morgana in the chest without hesitation. He has been working on it in secret for decades. Once it’s perfected, he will be able to use it on the man who oppressed him, and is still oppressing his people back home. It will kill every single back-up of anyone streaming their consciousness outside of their body. For now, it is only capable of destroying this one copy, but Azad is standing guard outside of Vanore’s substrate storage chamber. After she returns to her regular body, he won’t let her reinsert herself into the simulation.

With no time to react, Morgana falls to pieces. It’s powerful enough to disrupt the brain’s electrical signals, which means it’s also capable of breaking your average, everyday electromagnetic bonds. If she were more solid, it would not have been so dramatic. More people witnessed it than they realized. They begin to crowd around. “You...you killed her,” a child says. “You killed the witch. Will you save the queen now?”

“The queen?” Malika asks. “Who is the queen? Why does she need saving?”

“Why, ‘tis Guinevere, of course. She withers in the high tower.” The child points. “The King will give you anything if you kill the Bane of Loegria, and set his heart free.”

Microstory 2654: An Epic Quest

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Hrockas gave Mandica and her team unprecedented access to data and controls for the simulation. Unfortunately, it turned out to be rather useless in finding her hideout in the dome. If the Custodians who ran the sim couldn’t find Morgana with that information, what hope did four puny humans have? But it wasn’t entirely unhelpful. They decided to think more like her, or more to the point, like her character. If Morgana were a real person, how would she think? How would she act? The core question is why hasn’t she done anything since her attack at the jewelry store? Before Mandica showed up, her power in this city was surpassed only by her mystique. She claimed to live in a distant land, only coming to Ravensgate when business brought her here. Malika says it reminds her of some guy named Ra’s Al Ghul, but Mandica doesn’t know who that is. Their initial assumption was that Vanore wasn’t spending all of her time in Underbelly, but how was she exiting the dome without being traced? According to the logs, Vanore’s regular body is still in substrate storage. If she’s leaving, she’s not returning to it.

Incidentally, they did check Vanore’s storage chamber, though Hrockas was not happy about it. He told them that there was a breach a number of years ago that he doesn’t want repeated. Substrate storage is extremely delicate. People rely on those back-ups to survive, so there are mountains and mountains of laws designed to protect bodies from being tampered with. While Castlebourne doesn’t have to follow stellar neighborhood laws, in this situation, they absolutely do, because mind-transference is their bread and butter, and because it’s the right thing to do. But if Vanore isn’t in Underbelly, and she isn’t in her regular body, then she must be somewhere else on the planet. But she could not have beamed her mind to an entirely different body, because the logs would show that too.

“I got it!” Mandica is in her pajamas. They all are. It’s late, but this puzzle keeps them up just about every night.

“You know where she is?” Jaidia questions. “How?”

“I don’t know the how,” Mandica replies, even though that’s not really the question. “I only know the where. It was so obvious, I’m kicking myself for not realizing it before. God, I’m so stupid. She told us where she lived from the very beginning!”

“Well, stop teasing us like she apparently did, and tell us!” Reagan urges.

“Loegria.”

“Loegria?” Malika echoes.

“It’s the King Arthur dome,” Mandica explains. “There is a Morgana there; there has to be. Just like there’s a Merlin, and a Lancelot, and even Sir Dagonet. When I first heard of her, I assumed they were distinct interpretations of the character. I mean, there are already plenty of different versions of Morgan Le Fay in lore. The one from the TV series Merlin is not the same as the one from Le Morte D’Arthur. But what if it’s not like that here? What if she’s just counting on us to assume that? She could be splitting her time between Ravensgate and Camelot. She’s a shapeshifter, so if she’s somehow found a way to sneak back and forth through the backrooms, or whatever, Hrockas and the Custodians would never know. They wouldn’t realize it’s the same consciousness either.”

Malika and Reagan exchange a glance. “Mandy, you can’t go to Loegria. Hrockas warned you against that. We could go, but we would have to go back to our regular bodies first, even Reagan. That’s why we were hoping she hadn’t left this dome.”

“Yeah, I’ve been thinking about that,” Mandica begins, “since we started postulating that she wasn’t always in the dome. Hrockas is not a god. He obviously needs us, or he would use whatever resources he has at his disposal to deal with meta-business. Do you remember how weird it was when he came here? Why did we meet him in some penthouse? Why didn’t he just walk into our headquarters? For that matter, why did he conscript us for this job at all? I’m sure he’s busy, but I’m sure he can delegate the work to someone else in the executive administrative authority. I don’t actually care why he chose us, as long as he honors that moving forward. If he wants us to be the ones to catch Morgana, we will, and we’ll do it by whatever means necessary.”

“I couldn’t agree more,” comes a voice from behind the couch. They jump up to find Hrockas’ personal bodyguard, Azad Petit. It’s impossible. Unless there are built-in trapdoors all over the place, one of them should have seen him come in. He’s just standing there as if the solid wall was briefly a doorway. It doesn’t make any sense. 

“How did you get in here?” Reagan questions, aiming his maser gun. He didn’t come back here as a superhero, but he’s not completely helpless either.

“That’s classified.” When Azad senses that they’re too intrigued, he goes on, “you can either know how I did it, or you can get an exemption to leave the dome with those bodies. We will have stipulations, but we need this problem taken care of. Quietly.”

“Are we allowed to ask how you happened to show up while we were talking about your boss, or are we to believe it was just a coincidence?” Jaidia questions.

“Your buddy was looking at my contact card,” Azad explains. “I get an alert when that happens.

They look at Reagan. “I was only preparing to reach out to him,” he defends.

“Now you don’t have to,” Azad reiterates. “I’m here, and I’m here to tell you that you can go to Loegria, but you can’t be in costume, and you can’t take those wings.” He jerks his head towards their wings, which are charging on their docks. “If you get there and run into resistance, we don’t want you to die, but you can’t be flying around as superheroes. It does not belong in that world. Again, we want to get this done without anyone noticing. If Vanore has replaced that simulation’s Morgana NPC, that is a huge breach, and letting others know that it’s possible will only make things worse.”

“Wow. How much of our conversation did you hear?” Jaidia kind of complains.

“Obviously enough. Will you do it? Will you help us plug the leak?”

“What do we get if we do?” Malika asks him.

“He doesn’t have to give us anything,” Mandica contends, looking over at her briefly, and then back at Azad. “Our goals are aligned. We’ll take care of it. We’re not asking for payment, but if we do this, we become your heroes, right? That will count for something, right? You will consider us friends in the future...right?”

Azad scoffs, but isn’t mad. “Yes, and friends take care of each other.”

After he leaves, The team decides to get one more night of rest, but before that, they visit Elysia’s tailor to make them new clothes. They will need to blend in with the Arthurian realm. They don’t take the wings that Azad indicated, and they don’t take their superhero outfits. They’re not entirely unarmed, however. They do have wings, but they’re an upgrade from even Daedalus’ originals. Thanks to Reagan’s mechanical engineering skills, and Jaidia’s background in biology, their wings are now always with them, and hidden.

Microstory 2653: The Once and Future Owner

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Over the last eleven months, Ravensgate Rescuer, Blue Wave, and Cardinal Virtue have become—hands down—the most popular superhero team in town. Seemingly in response to this, the gamemakers have upped their game, introducing more advanced opponents to battle. They called the simulation Underbelly because it was originally only meant to involve street level conflict. Narratively, it would be nothing world-altering. They’re still not at the point where aliens are descending from the heavens, but they do supposedly come from other dimensions, and in massive numbers. The heroes have proven more capable than expected. While the Flying Femmes are the vanguard force, the team-up leaders, and the most celebrated, there are plenty of others contributing in their own ways. Some of them die, but it’s so much fun that the majority of them come back as new characters, or as the same character, using some in-universe magical twist. This happens all the time in the inspirational source material.

Reagan and Grover staged a highly scripted battle with each other around ten months ago. It was televised, and not only in this dome. People all over the world reportedly watched the events, and there are rumors that the “film” has reached beyond Castlebourne, to other colonies and Earth. Wave Function was looking for revenge for the second Ravensgate Rescuer’s death, even though she came back. In the end, after some gruelingly emotional dialogue, Velvet Thunder redeemed himself by sacrificing his own life to save Wave Function, along with a handful of innocent bystanders. Wave Function survived, but was permanently injured. The story goes that he retired to a cabin in the middle of the woods, as per comic book movie protocol. In reality, Reagan exited the simulation, and returned as a new character. He now serves as the man in the chair for the Flying Femmes, servicing their advanced wing technology, unseen by the public. He needs to hone his mechanical skills with modern tech. Grover, on the other hand, left the dome entirely, and is now shredding gnar in Winterbourne Park.

The universe has expanded. Elysia headlines a new immersive superhero story set under a new dome. Seagate is an oceanside city, which has its own series of beaches, but also butts up against Polar Tropica. While you can’t actually pass from Seagate to the gigantic dome that covers the south pole ocean, it’s out there, and visitors who have nothing to do with Underbelly can come right up to the transparent barrier between them. The girls have visited their friend several times, but the Flying Femmes have not yet fought alongside Elysia’s new character, Seagate Savior. They’re planning a huge crossover event for the end of the month, though. They might have done it sooner, but the gamemakers wanted Seagate to stand on its own for a few months before they introduced a more complex story structure. Incidentally, Elysia didn’t name herself. She elected to go out there with an oceanic theme, and the press came up with the moniker. Behind the scenes, since the public are AIs, it was likely the developers’ idea.

Morgana has been quiet. Mandica’s theory is that she orchestrated the whole thing with the jewelry store and the stone. There were a few too many coincidences. On the day of the attack, she used a different sword than she typically wielded. The real Philosopher’s Stone just happened to be on display there. They weren’t even going to go there in the first place, but a salesman encouraged them as they walked by. Did Vanore want her to somehow become the Ravensgate Rescuer? Has this been her twisted way of fulfilling what Mandica now believes were her parents’ wishes? She wants to ask her, but she would have to find her first. They know she has shapeshifting technology, so she could be anyone. She could be watching them up close every single day, holding her agenda close to the chest. They try not to worry about it too much, because until she makes a move, there’s really nothing they can do about it.

Today, they’re concerned with something else. Despite knowing that Mandica came to this planet illegally, the executive administrative authority has never said a word. The apparent owner mentioned something to Elysia before, but nothing has happened yet. That has recently changed. A man named Hrockas Steward has entered the simulation, and set up a meeting with Mandica, as well as any friends she would like to bring. Blue Wave is on patrol, but her other two team members are with her, dressed in civilian clothing. They’re in the elevator, heading up to the penthouse. “Do you wanna run? Jaidia asks. “We can run. We’ll find a way out of this dome, and hide somewhere.”

“They’ll find me,” Mandica replies. “It’s okay. If it turns out they want to punish me, or send me back to Earth, it will be on them.”

“I don’t think they’re gonna do that,” Reagan determines. “They don’t care about Earthan laws, and it would cost resources to ship you all the way back there. Before you ask, it’s illegal to digitize someone without their consent, so they would need a ship.”

The doors open. Only one security guard is waiting for them in the antechamber. He’s wearing armor, but has poor posture. He’s not nervous, which he shouldn’t be. They have no plans to harm Mr Steward. They didn’t even bring their wings. “Good afternoon, visitors. My name is Dominus Azad Petit. Miss Kolar, he would like to speak with you alone at first. The others can wait out here with me. I assure you, it’s safe.”

“It’s fine,” Mandica says when the others look like they’re about to protest, particularly Reagan. She goes in alone.

A man is standing at the window, looking out at the skyline. This is the best view in town, but if he owns the whole planet, he probably has better ones. He turns to face her. “Miss Kolar. Thank you for coming. I figured it was time we met.”

“Are you kicking me out?” Mandica asks, deciding to be bold.

“Quite the opposite,” he says. “If you had come here legally, and followed proper procedure, you would know that it is also against the law to exit a simulation in any substrate constructed for the purposes of inhabiting and taking action in that simulation. When your friends leave, they do so in their original bodies, or rather, whatever they were wearing on the outside before. Since you are undigitized, that is not possible for you. You are walking around in an incredibly powerful substrate that is outside my purview. I am here partially to ask that you remain here, or digitize. I cannot have it getting out that I made any exception. Your situation is too complicated to explain to the other visitors, or the citizens. I cannot force you, I can only ask.”

“Yeah,” I can do that,” Mandica agrees. “For now. But I might live forever, and I won’t want to live forever here.”

“I understand. If you would like to leave in the future, please reach out to me first so we can discuss. But that’s not really why I wanted to talk. I’ve decided to divulge to you that you are not the only stray under the dome. One other breached our defenses.”

“Who? Who else would come to such a dangerous place unprotected?” she asked.

“I never said that she was unprotected. She is actually more powerful than you. I can’t seem to track Morgana, and was hoping to employ your services towards that end.”

Microstory 2652: A Wing and a Prayer

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Malika Turnbull follows her friend’s instructions, not knowing if it’s going to work. Truthfully, she hates mythology, but Mandica needs her, and she’s willing to stomach it for as long as she must. Hopefully Plan A will work, and it won’t be too terribly long. She’s standing at the maintenance entrance, still in the plaza, not even too far from the reception. The door is locked, which they figured would be the case since it’s a secure area. She locates the nearest camera, and holds a photo of Mandica up to it. This really probably won’t work. Daedalus would have to be monitoring it, or have some sort of alert system connected to it. Why would he even do that? He’s supposed to be an NPC. He’s not supposed to have any access to the outside world, or the inner workings of any dome. There’s just no way—the door swings open on its own. “Oh. Okay, then.”

She goes through the passageway then lifts the trapdoor, and ends up in the meadow that Mandica described. Oh, she almost forgot. She detaches the pole from her back, extends it to the right length, and jams it into the stone wall to prevent the hidden secondary door from trapping her here. As a visitor, she would have every right to leave, but that would be a whole thing. Hopefully this guy doesn’t take long.

Several hours later, a man wearing brown and gray wings swoops down from the sky holding a torch. He jams it into the ground, and smiles cautiously. “I’m Daedalus. What fate has befallen Mandica Kolar of Tribe Kolar?” Would Daedalus say that?

“She’s fine. She just can’t leave where she is, so she sent me in her stead.”

“Did she find the woman for whom she was looking?” he asks.

“Yes, but Morgana is powerful, and angry with Mandica, for no apparent reason. Mandica is calling in the favor that you owe her.” The original script had her qualify that with expressing the hope that the favor still stands, but Malika suggested that she hold firm so it doesn’t become an argument. Mandica accepted the attitude, because after all, she’s not the one who has to be here with these creatures, wherever they might be lurking. “She is asking you to engineer a pair of wings for her. She requests raven black.”

“Hmm,” Daedalus says. “What is your name, child?”

“Don’t call me that. I’m probably older than you. My name is Malika Turnbull.”

“Fascinating. Are you two related?” he asks offensively.

“Oh, because we’re both black, we must be related.”

“Your names, dear traveler. They’re similar. That is all I meant.”

“Oh.” Malika shrugs. “People have similar names. It happens.”

“I wouldn’t know.” There are other people named Daedalus out there, Malika is sure of it, but she wouldn’t expect the bot version of the original to understand that.

“So. How about those wings?” she presses.

“I will not have to build something new for her. If it is raven black she is after, then it is raven black she shall have. I have a new line of wings back in my shop that I think she’s really gonna love. More compact than ever, more advanced in every way. They exist in your world, but they are quite rare. I had to sacrifice a lot to persuade—”

“I don’t mean to be rude, but I don’t need your life story.” Yikes.

“Very well, my new blue friend. Back or front?”

“Huh?”

“Would you like me to carry you, or let you ride on my back?”

“Neither. I will stay here and wait for your return.”

He shakes his head. “This area is unsafe. Spriggans lurk in these woods. You have been lucky so far. Had I known that you would be coming, I would have been waiting for you. Please, you must come with me. You may be immortal, but I do not want to return to this spot to find your dead body, and have to wait for your replacement.”

She refrains from arguing that it was she who had to wait for him before. Instead, she lets him pick her up by her underarms, and fly her over the lands. “This is some bullshit,” she complains on the way. She doesn’t like being controlled by other people.

They land on the top of his tower in the center of a great city. Crowds of people are cheering for him, and seemingly praying. He waves at them respectfully, and blows them kisses, but does not stay long before escorting Malika inside. “This is my flight lab,” he says when they enter the room. “I have others, but I’m obviously fond of wings.”

 “Right.” Again, Malika is not into this sort of stuff, but she is an educated woman. She knows enough about the stories to know that Daedalus didn’t just keep building wings, and become the emperor of the world, or whatever he is here. Mandica said that the mythology has evolved on its own with all these unrelated characters being forced together, but it’s surreal seeing it up close. She still doesn’t wanna stick around.

“Ah, right here,” Daedalus says as he’s walking a dress form mannequin more towards the center of the room. He smiles proudly, which is odd, because there’s nothing on the mannequin. He reaches behind it, and presumably flips some switch. Nanites emerge from the back, and form themselves into wings. They are raven black, as requested. “What do you think? I have other corvids, but this one was specifically inspired by the raven. There are other black ones too, though they’re more metallic.”

“I think she will love these,” Malika has no choice but to admit.

“Do you want to try them out first?” he asks, still standing tall and proud.

“Oh, no. They’re not for me.” Malika walks around to get a better look at the backside, and the housing unit. “Besides, what would I be testing? She didn’t specify what she’s looking for. She didn’t know they could collapse like this. As long as they work, she will accept them. I presume you don’t have a return policy.”

“For her, I absolutely do,” Daedalus says. “But you really should try them. If not, I have other models, perhaps in blue? This might be your last chance.”

“Okay, fine.” She’s a guest here, right? She doesn’t want to be rude. She only gave up being a superhero in Underbelly because her substrate was destroyed. She still likes to have fun. The blue wings are not quite the same shade of blue as her character, but perhaps that’s a good thing. Blue Umbra is dead, and unlike Ravensgate Rescuer, she’s never coming back to life. She lets him help her put the apparatus on, and take her out to the edge of the building. If he’s trying to kill her, he’ll fail. Her mind will just stream over to her nearest backup. She leaps from the building, activates propulsion, and begins to soar through the air. It’s a magnificent feeling. She was obviously just flying, but it’s better to be in control. She spends an hour up there, feeling the wind in her face, and enjoying life for the first time in a long time. She lands back on the roof with a huge smile. “Thank you for letting me have that experience.”

“It doesn’t have to end,” he says. “You can keep them.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, why not? No one here can appreciate them like a real-worlder can.”

“Well, thank you,” She’s not gonna argue. “Do you have one in red and black?”

Microstory 2651: Wildly Successful and Alive

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Reagan jumps out of his seat. He doesn’t press himself against the wall, but he looks incredibly scared of Mandica, and is not relaxing. He starts clutching his chest, and for good reason. With Mandica’s heightened senses, she can hear how hard his heart is beating. “How are you alive? How are you here?”

Mandica hops off the table, and strides over to the mirror to check her back. The stone is still embedded in her skin, exactly where it was before. It’s glowing again, just as it was in the mortuary. Why is he so confused? It worked again, that makes sense. “Was your memory erased?” she asks him. “I don’t understand why you’re surprised.”

“You were a pancake,” Reagan retorts. “There was—oh my God, it was horrific. You were completely unrecognizable. I...I don’t want to describe the carnage in greater detail, but there was nothing left besides the stone. It was perfectly unharmed, but that’s it. After they removed the train, I swiped the stone, because I didn’t want it falling into the wrong hands, but I didn’t think it would bring you back from that. You...Jesus, Mandica. I’ve not been able to sleep for the last two nights. I felt responsible. I encouraged you to become the Ravensgate Rescuer. I helped train you. I...I...”

“I’m sorry for that. I guess we didn’t know the extent of the stone’s power.”

“I was in love with you!” he cries. “Well, I still am, but I started to mourn, and now I’m profoundly confused. I should be relieved, but it feels unreal.”

Mandica nods. “It’s a shock, I get it.” She looks down at her naked body. No injuries, no scars. No blemishes either. Everything looks brand new. It is new. If her body was pancaked under that train, then the stone would have had to rebuild her from scratch, which is probably why it took two or three days for her to come back this time. “We’ll get through it, though. This is a gift. I think I might not be able to die at all. I mean if a 300-ton train couldn’t do it, what could? I’m like you now, and our friends. You don’t worry about them dying, do you? Your anxiety will go away.”

“Their minds are backed up. That I understand,” he reasons.

“This is even better. I seem to walk around with my backup. As long as the stone survives, I will too.” She places a hand on his shoulder, feeling him twitch at her touch.

“We don’t know that the stone is invincible. Maybe blunt force isn’t a problem, but it has some ridiculous weakness, like battery acid, or...chocolate.”

She smiles as she pivots his body so they’re facing each other. “What kind of life would I be living if I couldn’t have chocolate?”

“Stop joking. We can’t get too excited. It might turn you into a zombie, or—”

“You stop,” she insists. “You’re spiraling. These worst case scenarios are not helpful. I’m not gonna go looking for death, but I’m not gonna hide away either. I’m done with that. I put on this suit without us even knowing that the stone wasn’t a one-time thing. Now that we know it’s not, I’m emboldened. I was hesitant out there with Velvet Thunder. It’s what got me killed. I’m not saying it won’t happen again, but this experience has given me a huge boost in confidence.” When he looks away again in sadness, she gently pulls at his chin. “I want you there with me. If Blue Umbra doesn’t come back, I would like us to be partners. I can’t promise you anything beyond that,” she adds awkwardly, “but I think we make a great team.”

He sighs. “We don’t know that yet. All I know is how I feel. I’ve met a lot of superheroes, but none like you. You walked right in here without protection. You are the bravest person I know; probably the bravest in the galaxy. But yes, I would rather have a working relationship with you than nothing at all.”

“And would it be okay if Cardinal Sin is with us as a trio? She expressed interest.”

He smiles now, starting to relax. “She doesn’t go by that anymore. She realized that it didn’t make any sense to maintain her original name if she switched sides. She’s Cardinal Virtue now. People are really starting to accept her. She reacted quite strongly to your death, and people saw that. Even though Velvet Thunder didn’t technically drop the train on you, they’re blaming him for it. He never wanted to be that hated. He may exit the game because of this. You should go see him.”

“I think I will. I don’t want him to feel any guilt.”

She doesn’t end up doing that. Instead, Reagan invites everyone to a meeting, reportedly to discuss funeral arrangements. It was Mandica’s idea to lie. He reaches out to Malika, who has to return from Castlebourne’s north pole first. Elysia left the simulation too, but was closer by. She will not say where. It sounds very hush-hush. Once everyone has arrived, Mandica makes her grand entrance. They’re all upset and all overjoyed at the same time.

No one else confesses their undying love to her, but Elysia does give her a certain look. After the hubbub dies down a little, she pulls Mandica aside for a more private conversation. “Listen. After you died a few days ago, I threw myself into work. After I died, the executive administrative authority offered me a sort of...job. I was holding off on making any radical commitments because I was training you, but I thought that was over. I didn’t want to think about what happened, so I tried to put Ravensgate in my rearview mirror.” Wow, a lot managed to happen in the last few days. “Since you were dead, it didn’t seem to matter, but now that you’re back, you should know...they know about you. They saw what happened at the jewelry store, and the train yard. They’ve been watching you. I didn’t get the impression that they were all that upset about it. I mean, they had weeks to pull you out, and didn’t. Still, you have a right to know.”

“I suppose we should not have been too optimistic about that. They got cameras all over the place. They were bound to notice. Thank you for telling me, I’m sure it will end up okay.” She means it. “Can you tell me about the project? Will you be going back?”

Elysia nods. “Ravensgate has been wildly successful in their eyes. They only built one city under one dome so as not to waste resources on an unproven concept. After decades of play and hype, it’s become one of the more popular destinations for visitors. They have had to start a waiting list because there is too much demand. You don’t want too many superheroes in one city, so they’re building a new one, under a new dome.”

“Oh, cool. That’s impressive. Congratulations,” Mandica says to her.

“Thanks. It’s not yet announced, but since my version of the Rescuer is dead, they might have me become a new character, after I’m done helping design it.”

“That’s really great, Lys, I’m happy for you.” She notices Malika eyeing the exit door. “I wanna hear more about it, but I need one moment before Malika escapes.” She jogs over to her other friend. “Hey. Are you going back to Aquilonian Deep?”

“Yeah. I’ve just been going through my own stuff. It’s not about you.”

“I can appreciate that, and I don’t wanna pressure you, but if you’re gonna be out there, maybe you could take a detour? I can’t leave the dome even though it might not matter anymore. Could you pick something up from someone who owes me a favor?”

The Advancement of Mateo Matic: September 4, 2548

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Echo Cloudbearer explained his mysterious origins to the team, giving a brief overview of his life. When Olimpia screamed to create the Sixth Key parallel reality, she also created him as a conscious component. The theory was that the DNA in the saliva that came out during her scream somehow rearranged itself, and gave birth to a new living being. Exactly why this being wasn’t a perfect clone of Olimpia herself was the least insane unanswered question about this whole thing. As a lone entity in the center of reality, Echo had to raise himself, absorbing random psychic energy from everywhere in the galaxy to even grasp the concept of survival. His mind conjured memories that were not his own, or maybe not even real at all, to explain to himself where he had come from. Years later, members of the Rock peace talks spontaneously sprouted from a magical tree, headed by an antagonistic godlike woman named Clavia.

Clavia wanted to use Echo’s powers for nefarious purposes, so he regressed her to a childlike state, with no memory of her past. To protect the future, he had to do the same to himself. The two of them were raised as siblings by the Sixth Key leadership, and eventually ascended to power themselves. They used their reality-warping abilities to create another universe called The Eighth Choice. The Reality Wars had been subverted, hopefully forever. There was now more than enough room, and enough resources, for everyone.

After the rundown, Olimpia and Echo stepped away alone with each other to have a more private conversation, though they could still be seen. They were all kind of watching the two of them, but Ramses was paying especially close attention. Mateo walked over to him. “Are you worried for her? Do you think this Echo guy is lying?”

“If he’s gonna try to hurt her, we’ll be here to stop him,” Ramses said. “That’s not what is on my mind, though.”

“What are you thinking about then?” Mateo asked.

“He looks Sri Lankan, right?” Ramses asked.

Mateo nodded. “I would say he does. I don’t understand how he was...created, but he looks like he could be her son.”

Ramses nodded. “Do you think he perhaps...could also be something else?”

“Something else, like...a vampire?” Mateo had no idea what he was driving at.

“No. I mean...” He shook his head. “God, maybe I shouldn’t say it. It’s nuts. But then again...I was there. I wasn’t there when she created the Sixth Key with her scream, but I was there just before she did it.”

“Wait. Are you saying you think he looks Egyptian?”

“I....maybe.”

Mateo tilted his head as he was looking at the mother and son. His resemblance to his supposed mother was undeniable. Echo was definitely Sri Lankan, even if that meant he bioprinted a fake body just to sell a con. But he could be half Egyptian. That was harder to see, but absolutely not impossible. “Well, you have a DNA testing kit in your lab, don’t you?” he figured.

“Yeah, but he would have to consent to it.”

“Why don’t you ask him?” Mateo encouraged. “We don’t have to do the thing where we give him a cup of water, and then steal the cup, or pull a hair out from his head. He might not be trying to hide the truth about you from us. We may not know. Like you said, if you left before she made the Sixth Key—and him—Echo might not have any reason to suspect a connection. If your hypothesis is true, we would have to figure out how your DNA ended up there.”

“Well, I did give her a hug while she was trapped in the proto-Sixth Key,” Ramses explained. “We couldn’t actually touch each other at the time, but I guess if you can make a baby without having sex, it turning out that the dimensional barrier separating the mother from the father was semi-permeable—allowing a second sample of DNA to pass through—isn’t any harder to believe.”

“Why don’t you go get that kit, and then let’s have an open conversation?”

Ramses knew that there was no point in wasting time. He jumped into his pocket dimension lab, found what he was looking for, and returned. Only Mateo went with him up to the mother and son. The rest didn’t know what was going on, though they might have spotted the scanner, and guessed. Or guessed part of it.

Echo’s eyes darted down to the scanner as Ramses approached. “You want proof.”

“I don’t think it’s too much to ask. It will barely hurt.”

Echo chuckled. “Pain isn’t a problem. But my origins are bizarre, as you heard. I’m not sure what that test will say. I’m not a Boltzmann brain, but I’m not a normal person either.”

Ramses shook the scanner gently. “I designed this myself. It accounts temporal anomalies, and looks for signatures of cloning or bioprinting. It will tell us if this body is her genetic son. Even if you’re an evil psychopathic killer who stole her DNA to infiltrate our team, it will know if it’s even worth trusting you in the short-term.”

“I understand why you need this. I have no problem with it.” Echo made a fist, and presented his arm. He didn’t flinch when Ramses placed the top of the scanner against his skin, and pierced it with a tiny little needle.

Ramses then did the same for Olimpia, but against the side of the scanner. He made a fist and lifted his own arm up. “I have a hypothesis. I don’t know if you know the answer to this question, or if you had even considered it, but this machine is designed to capture both parents, and a child. That’s why there are three needles.” He placed it against his arm, but didn’t prick himself yet. “Do you see why I feel like I should be doing this?”

Echo narrowed his eyes and studied Ramses’ face. He looked over at the woman he was certain was his mother, then back to Ramses. “I see it. If it’s true, I want you to know that I didn’t consider it. I never thought much about whether or not I had a father, and it did not occur to me that it might be you. But you should also know that if that comes back positive, I’ll be twice as happy as I was when Olimpia finally showed up.”

“Okay.” Ramses pierced his own skin, and captured the final blood sample. The results came in within seconds. After interpreting the data alone, he showed them both the screen. “Mother, father, and offspring. It’s struggling with your sex, but leaning masculine. If you didn’t know before, you are intersex in a way that does not exist in the natural world. Your sex appears to be rather fluid, in fact.”

Echo nodded. “That is not surprising.” He took a deep breath, then let his body transform. In only moments, he had fully transitioned into a more feminine form. “My pronouns are whatever you feel like. I spent most of my childhood masculine, but I have taken this form from time to time.” She pulled her shirt collar away from her body, and looked down, widening her eyes at the sight. “It’s been a long time, though.”

“You get those from me,” Olimpia told her daughter.

Ramses looked at his scanner again. “Hm. Fascinating.”

“What is it?” Mateo asked him.

Ramses looked back up at his daughter. “The sample you gave me, it’s leaning more genetically female now. You didn’t simply transition yourself. You changed blood that wasn’t even in your body anymore.”

Echo shrugged. “It’s still a part of me.”

Ramses sighed, and dropped his arms.

“Wait, what just happened?” Mateo questioned. “That sounds cool, why are you upset now?”

“Oh, shit,” Echo began. “That means I could be lying entirely. I could be some untrustworthy shapeshifter.”

“I don’t believe that,” Olimpia promised, entangling her daughter’s arm in hers. She looked over at Ramses. “We still don’t understand how this is possible, but I’m choosing to believe that it’s real. Rambo, you can think what you want, but we have met more good people in this universe than bad ones. The odds are in our favor.”

Ramses exhaled before wrapping his arm around Echo’s shoulders to bring her into a hug. “I choose to believe as well.”

Echo went back to his masculine form as the four of them were returning to the rest of the team to explain the most recent news. Then all eight of them walked back up to the reality portal, and slipped back over to the main sequence version of this planet. Echo didn’t know what he was going to do at the end of the team’s day in the timestream, but he was going to stick around at least until then. Romana knew of a perfect spot for a picnic, having spotted it during her surveys. While they were eating, Echo gave them some more details about his life. They were less factual, and more personal. The team talked about the things they had been up to as well, but he had kept up with their dealings, so there was little that he didn’t already know about.

While they were in the middle of dessert, a woman walked up to them. None of them had seen her appear, but Echo’s face fell when he noticed her. He tried to cover up his emotions. “Sister,” he said, standing up. He wrapped his arm around her waist. “Everyone, this is Clavia...what’s left of her, anyway. I told you, it was complicated.”

They all stood up respectfully. “It’s nice to meet you,” Olimpia said, trying to shake Clavia’s hand.

Clavia didn’t accept right away. “You didn’t tell them?” she asked Echo.

“I was trying to have a nice time with my family,” Echo argued.

“Nice to meet you too,” Clavia finally said, taking Olimpia’s hand.

Ramses pushed himself forward. “What is this?” He pulled Olimpia back a little in case he needed to protect her. “You really are evil, aren’t you? This was some kind of terrible plan?”

“It’s not a terrible plan,” Echo defended. “I’m not evil. But I was sent here. I really am your son. I have not changed my DNA in any way, but the person I work for needs something, and realized my connection, so we decided to use it to our advantage.”

Off with the sundresses and casual picnic clothes. The team armored up, and prepared to fight.

“That is not necessary,” Clavia contended. “You are friends with this person. One of you has already promised to help them. It has just taken this long from your perspective for them to collect. We are cognizant of present and future events in this universe. We are taking you out of this brane at this particular juncture because we know that doing so will not cause problems. The rest of the team will remain here to build a home. Once you’re done, you’ll reunite.”

“You’re being so vague,” Mateo argued. “Who are you talking about? Who made the promise, and who did they make it to?”

“Leona?” Echo said simply.

“Me?” Leona questioned. “I don’t remember making any sort of promise.”

“Senona Riggur,” Clavia clarified, “at Origin. You said you would help them fulfill other people’s wishes.”

“Oh, right,” Leona recalled. “I did say that, and it was a very long time ago for me.” She looked amongst her friends. “They’re right, I have to go.”

“I’m going with you,” Mateo insisted.

“So am I,” Olimpia added.

“Mother, you can, and I was hoping you would say that,” Echo began. “Uncle Mateo, you can’t.”

“That’s not true,” Clavia said to him.

“I really wanna spend more time with both,” Echo snapped back in a whisper.

“Share with the class,” Mateo urged.

Echo sighed. “Only two of you besides Aunt Leona can come. If it’s Mateo then it either can’t be Olimpia or Ramses. I have a personal stake in which two it is.”

“How long will they be gone?” Angela questioned.

“Interversal travel is complicated,” Clavia said. “Based on your patterns, it would be a matter of days. Whoever goes will experience years of service, but we will not be able to return them to a few minutes from now.”

“I have to stay here,” Ramses said sadly. “The two smart people can’t separate themselves from everyone else. We realized that a long time ago.”

“I’ll take care of the dummies,” Clavia revealed. “Your tech isn’t that hard. I’m smarter than all of you combined, including Echo.”

“Debatable,” Echo said.

They continued to discuss the plan, running through a few contradictory scenarios, but only one made sense. In the end, Ramses and Olimpia chose to aid Leona in her duties, along with Echo. The ladies said their goodbyes to their husband, and everyone else. Then they returned to the Sixth Key, where a Nexus would evidently be waiting for them.

“That’s a good idea,” Marie determined. “Are there schematics for a Nexus in Ramses’ forge core? That should be the first thing we build.”

“All in favor, say aye,” Mateo prompted.

“Aye.”

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Extremus: Year 122

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With Pronastus out of the way, Waldemar has been able to sit in his chair, and get some much-needed work done. It’s smooth, comfortable, and unworn. Past captains have sparingly sat on the bridge. He knows why, but he still doesn’t think it’s right. In the scifi shows of old, the bridge was the happenin’ place to be. It was literally the seat of power for the whole ship, and given the nature of the narratives, usually the focal point of the whole universe. The fictional captains were basically gods. Unfortunately, it doesn’t work like that in the real world. There are no aliens to fight or negotiate with. There are no spacetime anomalies, or colonies to save. There’s not even anything to see out here. Faster-than-light travel does not streak the stars, or show them endless ionized clouds of hyperspace. It’s just a blinding grayish light. If this bridge had a viewport, they would never be able to open it, except before they left, or once they make it to their destination. Waldemar has changed all that. He had ordered viewscreens to be installed before his chair. The stars they’re seeing aren’t really there, but they alleviate the claustrophobia. And that’s not all they do.

When the tentacled alien character appears on screen, Waldemar chuckles at him. “Lieutenant Xaxblarg. Is your boss on the shitter, or did you finally grow the balls to overthrow him?” His voice is a bit melodramatic, but it’s supposed to be.

“You know that Xaxblergins do not have balls. You insult me, human,” the alien spits back.

“Is he named after his race?” Waldemar’s helmsman whispers to the navigator.

“Stay in character, ensign!” Waldemar orders. He clears his throat, and looks back up at the screen. “Xaxblarg, I don’t care who I’m dealing with. I want your blasted blargship off that planet. You have enslaved the Tukpluckians for way too long, and we’re here to free ‘em. If you don’t go to the devil in five Milky Way minutes, I’m gonna blast a hole in your ship so big, you’ll be fartin’ xentriflux plasma for days.”

Xaxblarg chuckles evilly. “You think you’ve won, human captain, but your sensors have been degaussed. If you look outside, I think you’ll find yourself thoroughly surrounded by my strike penetrators.”

“Strike penetrators?” the science officer complains. “Jesus.”

“That’s two days in the brig, ensign!” Waldemar orders.

“In the real world, it is called hock, sir,” the ensign replies.

“That’s a stupid goddamn word that no one ever used until we started building real starships. I refuse to use it. Three days in the brig.”

“You told me to be historically accurate with my character,” the ensign goes on. “The way you wrote me as the radically honest half-trentlamite, I would push back against your errors. You have never called it the brig before—”

“Your sentence in the brig is four days now. Keep talkin’ and I’ll make it five...years.” Waldemar doesn’t like when people argue with him. It’s ridiculous. He’s in charge here. Whatever he says is right, even if it’s wrong. That’s the whole reason to be the boss. If this asshole wanted the job instead, he should have saved the ship from annihilation several years ago, instead of Waldemar.

“Four days is fine sir. Thank you.” He leaves the bridge using the door. That’s another thing Waldemar changed. Ubiquitous teleporters are too easy. Even the shows that had the technology almost always only used them to transport down to a planet, or back up. They didn’t waste energy jumping from one deck to another. Sure, the visual effects would have cost too much, but that’s no reason to overuse them in real life.

Waldemar takes a breath. “Now. Does anyone else have a problem with my script, or are you ready to get on board? Here’s something you need to understand—and perhaps I was unclear about why we’re doing this—the simulations are not just for fun. We all believe that there are no aliens out here, and we all believe that we’re never slowing down or stopping until we make it to the Extremus planet. But we don’t actually know that. What if we do encounter an alien race of slavedrivers, bent on our destruction? What if we fall into a black hole, and end up in another universe? And what if that universe is the opposite of ours, where I’m evil, and Adolf Hitler was good. We’re doing this to be prepared. I made it fun to keep you engaged and entertained. But I can make it boring if you want. Is that what you want? To be all technical and realistic,” he says with airquotes. 

“No, sir,” they grumble.

“Good. Now someone find me a replacement science officer who isn’t gonna backtalk me, and let’s run it again, from the top! I wanna get through this at least once.”

The next attempt went better. The crew performed admirably, and was able to kill everyone in the Xaxblergin fleet efficiently. He wrote the script himself, but they’re still not taking it seriously enough. Maybe he needs to hire some writers. He can still take credit for it. He doesn’t have to admit that he didn’t come up with the new storylines himself. Maybe his wife will have some thoughts on that. “You have the conn, Lieutenant.” He teleports off the bridge. He’s back in his stateroom now where Audrey is waiting for him, as usual. They have gotten into this habit where she cooks for him. The synthwrights didn’t want to engineer and build them a real kitchen, but they fell in line. They always will, or else.

“Welcome home, honey. How was your day?”

“I don’t wanna talk about it.” Waldemar sits down. “What are we having?”

“This is chicken tetrazzini with cheesy white sauce and oven-roasted cherry tomatoes on top. For the drink, I chose a rosemary-infused sparkling lemonade.”

“I don’t like lemons,” Waldemar counters.

“Oh, you’ll like this. Lemonade is very different. The sugar—”

“I don’t like lemon anything,” he volleys, raising his voice, but still not yelling. “Bring me the milk we had last night.”

“We had turkey chili last night. Milk paired well with that, but it will not pair well with this dish,” she argues.

He swipes the cup off the table, letting it spill and break on the floor, but not shatter. “I’ll decide what pairs well with what.”

Audrey calmly stands up, walks around the table, and raps him on the nose. “No! No! We do not throw things, and we don’t knock them over. No!” She strikes him again.

She is the only person on this ship who can do something like that to him. Anyone else would be six feet under the Attic Forest or floating in the black nothing by now. He flares his nostrils, but doesn’t otherwise react. It’s not easy, holding himself back with her. He can’t just do it. He has to concentrate on it. Most things he tries come easy to him, but not social etiquette. That’s why he usually doesn’t worry about it, because it’s too much work, but she’s worth it. That ass alone...

“Okay.” She lifts her hand and taps on her fingers in the right command sequence. A bot emerges from the floor, and begins to clean up the mess.

“I told you, I don’t like those things. Your job is to keep house, when I’m not here, and when I am. If you’re going to outsource that work, what’s the point?”

“Good question,” Audrey replies as she’s returning to the kitchen. She takes the milk out of the fridge, and starts to pour. “What’s the point of playing house at all? You’re a captain for Christ’s sake.” She sets the glass in front of him. “You don’t have time for domesticity.”

“We all have our roles, dear.” He takes a bite of the chicken pasta. “I didn’t want to be captain, it was my destiny. I was born for this.” He takes a drink of the milk. “Blech,” he exclaims, letting the milk shoot out of his mouth, and land on the cleaning bot, confusing it. For a moment, he’s embarrassed. He looks back up at Audrey. “I guess you were right.” He wipes his lips with his sleeve.

“Oh, you animal,” she utters with a sigh. She sits on the edge of the table, and dabs his face with a napkin. They stare into each other’s eyes. Then she leans down and kisses him passionately. He has little need for most personal connections, but having someone to take care of him like this is nice. He won’t give it up, for the job, or anything.

He takes her hand in his, and kisses it too. “I’m sorry I got mad.”

“It’s okay.” She goes back to the kitchen again, and pours another glass of the lemonade. “It’s like you said, it’s my job to keep house. Unlike 99.98 percent of the population, I know how to cook. That’s just about all I spend my time doing. Trust me.”

Waldemar accepts the drink this time, and tries it. She’s right, as always.

He’s still feeling uncomfortable with the emotion he emulated during dinner, so Waldemar leaves the stateroom afterwards, to go on his rounds. The people know by now that when he’s walking at this pace, with this gait, he is not to be disturbed. If he wants to interact with someone, he will initiate contact, not them. And he’s not there to help anyone either. This is his personal time, which he uses to clear his head, or work through problems. He likes to be seen. He wants to be present, and for the citizens to associate him with every corner of this vessel. His focus is on the bridge, but they should not forget that he can go anywhere, and do anything he wants. He can show up any time, so it’s best not to be whispering about him, or planning some misguided coup. He absolutely detests not knowing what people are discussing or thinking, and while he hasn’t had to explain this out loud, people understand that. When he’s around, they go silent. If he wants them to speak, he’ll unambiguously let them know.

He doesn’t usually pay attention to where he’s going. Again, he has free rein, so he doesn’t have to plan a specific route. He finds himself in the park. Before Tinaya Leithe was even captain, she worked for the Parks Department, and eventually used her power to build the Attic Forest, which takes up the whole upper deck. People love it there, and use it all the time, which is why Waldemar doesn’t go there. He doesn’t care for nature, nor people. The original park is still here. It’s only a fraction of the size, and poorly maintained these days, so regular people have no use for it. He typically only comes here when he wants to be alone, but today, he has more stumbled upon it. Perhaps his subconscious mind is trying to tell him something.

He’s not alone this time. A young girl is sitting by whatever these plants are called. She’s...what is she doing? Is she drawing them? On paper? What a weirdo. He’s intrigued. “It doesn’t have any color.”

The girl doesn’t look up, and doesn’t stop. “Yeah, it’s a sketch. It’s not supposed to have color.”

“What is the point if it’s not going to be accurate?” He catches himself asking that question a lot. He used to ask it even more frequently. Silveon taught him that people notice because he’s questioning things that are obvious to normal people.

“It’s art, it doesn’t need to be accurate.” She’s still not looking at him.

He smiles. She has no idea who he is. It’s a relief, really. Yes, of course he wants people to respect him and do as he says, but there’s something intoxicating about the few who refuse to. That’s why he hooked up with Audrey in the first place, because she doesn’t take his shit. She’s almost as strong as he is, and can work at his level. This girl here, whoever she is. She might be even better.

“I’m not much into art. I’m so busy. With my job.”

“Yes, I’m sure you are, Captain.” Oh. So she does know who he is, if only by his voice. But wait, if that’s true, why is she being so casual and distant? Why is she not looking him in the eyes to gain favor, or down at his feet to show her fear and reverence?

“Do you mind if I sit?” he asks.

She sighs, and closes her notepad. “If that’s what you’re into.”

He sits rather close to her. “Can I see?”

“Go ahead. I’m not ashamed.”

There are a ton of other drawings in the sketchbook, some also without color, but some with. Many of her subjects can be found around the ship, but others are nowhere near here. Lots of animals. She likes cows. She’s a cowgirl. “These are really good. uh...oh, what’s your name?”

“Sable.”

“Sable?” he echoes. “You’re Admiral Keen’s daughter.”

“That’s right.”

“Royalty.”

“Huh?”

“Uh.” Why is it so hot in here, and why is he stumbling over his words? She’s pretty, yeah, but she’s so young. It’s...that doesn’t matter at any rate. He can have any woman he wants. Why worry about this one girl? “I meant your art. In the past, you could have sold it for money, and I think they called that royalties.”

“Cool.” God, she’s such a—what word is he looking for?—renegade. Just an untamable, fierce, defiant badass. She smells nice too, and the curve of her neck is so enticing. Who cares how young she is? He must have her. She reminds him of Audrey, back before the, ya know...sagging and wrinkling.

“Have you ever painted a mural before?” He asks her, leaning in a little. She needs to know that he’s interested without it being obvious to someone watching them from the outside.

“Like on a wall? We don’t have the right kind of walls.”

“Say the word, I’ll make one. You can paint anything you want on it. Do we have paint? I’ll get you some paint. If it’s not the right paint, I’ll get you the right paint.”

“Captain, I really appreciate you trying to engage with your people, but this is really not necessary.”

“I just see your talent, and I think everyone else should too.” He places a hand against her back, noting that she doesn’t flinch at his touch.

For the first time ever, she makes eye contact. “Do you really think so?”

He begins to lower his hand. She doesn’t reject this either. “Unequivocally. Let’s talk about this some more.”

“I would like that.”

He moves under her shirt, definitely not only touching her back anymore.

She smiles. She’s so into him.

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