Microstory 2269: Until Tomorrow

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It’s Kelly, filling in for Nick just for today. He’s fine, but the DPA had to spirit him away. They won’t tell us anything about it for obvious reasons, but they promise that they’ll have him back tonight. Once he returns, he won’t be able to say anything about it—they were clear about that. My guess is that they want him to answer questions in preparation for his meeting with the President next week. We’re worried, but his primary bodyguard went with him. I feel much more comfortable knowing that he’s not alone. Since he doesn’t have a background on this planet, I suppose this is the best way to assess his intentions. Or maybe they do this sort of thing for everyone. I really couldn’t say. Until tomorrow!

Microstory 2268: Change is My Status Quo

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Welp, yesterday, while you thought all I was thinking about was my meeting with the President, I was actually out doing volunteer work. I was once again rolling up my sleeves, and building houses with Homes for Humankind. I didn’t tell anyone that I was going to do that, because I didn’t want there to be yet another media frenzy, and I’m happy to report that it worked. I put in the work with everyone else, and for hours, didn’t have to worry about all these threats to my life. My security team was there, but instead of standing around in suits and sunglasses, they wore regular clothes, and volunteered too. All of the other volunteers knew who I was, and who my friends were, but they didn’t give me any crap about it. They didn’t give me preferential treatment, or ask me a bunch of questions. Everyone has a story, and it was nice to listen to other people’s, instead of thinking about my own. Some of them really understand a desire for anonymity, so no one leaked information. Still. I feel lucky that we never got caught. Wow, saying that, it makes it sound like I was doing something wrong. This is stressing me out, seeing threats at every turn. I don’t know that I’ll be able to pull it off again. Is that part of my life just over? Will I never be able to just go out and contribute to my community without it ending up on the news, or having to avoid that by going in disguise? Kelly says that I should accept that my life is different than it used to be, and pointed out that change is my status quo. She’s probably right. I’ve complained about rich people only helping others by donating money, but maybe I was wrong. Maybe that’s all I really can do without simultaneously shifting focus to me instead of the cause.

Microstory 2267: 2018 Was No Bueno

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Funny story. Obviously, before you meet the President, the Diplomatic Protection Authority has to run a thorough background check on you. You have heard of everyone that I know. I’ve mentioned literally everyone I’ve ever met here beyond random customers and clients. I don’t have a past from before the beginning of this year, and the DPA doesn’t know what to do with that. I think they still don’t believe me, which is understandable, but I don’t know what to tell ya. I can’t conjure a family out of nowhere, and no matter how deep you dig, you’re not gonna find them, because you’re looking in the wrong world. I’m guessing that there are two camps; one which wants to believe me, and one which thinks that this is all part of an extremely intricate coverup to hide the fact that I’m some kind of international assassin. That would be one hell of a long con. Could you imagine, doing everything I’ve done for a year just on the off-chance that the leader of the free world would eventually want to meet me? I gave myself an incurable disease, managed to cure it in a matter of moments anyway, and everyone who saw it happen is somehow loyal to me, or has been paid off. That’s more bonkers than the truth. I didn’t ask for this meeting. I didn’t see it coming. So if you want to cancel on me, that’s fine. I have no strong feelings about it. As I’ve said, I just got here, so I’m not all that familiar with your history, or your politics. I don’t even know whether I would have voted for her if I had been born on this planet. One major difference between my world and yours is that it’s okay to be apolitical, because you’re not deciding between a decent human being, and one of the worst monsters ever created. Trust me, I know that I call you boring, but this is far better. The administration I left behind in 2018 was no bueno.

Microstory 2266: Those Little Lifestyle Differences

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Things are changing again. Dutch is totally okay, but none of us wants to go to the hospital again for any reason, whether it’s from overreacting, or something serious. Our security team has all but insisted that we find a doctor to come to our house whenever we need it. We will not be advertising this person’s name, nor any support staff that they’ll find themselves in need of. I didn’t want to take money away from the charities for ourselves, but I don’t think we have any choice. We went to the hospital for Dutch in secret, but we still got caught up in a media frenzy. Now I know why generational wealthy people have always paid others to do things for them. It’s not because they’re incapable, but because everything seems to paint a target on their backs. I never thought that I would become this person, even with all the money in the world. I believe in the common good. But we’re all still in danger from the outside world, so if we have to be a little isolated, then these are the things that I’ll accept. I’ll have security guards operating down the hallway. I’ll have a medical professional either live here, or come to work in this house—every day, or however it ends up working. I can’t start sliding down the slippery slope, though. I have to find ways to stay grounded, and connected to regular people. I don’t want to become everything I hated about the richest people in my universe. Sure, there’s plenty they did that was just despicable and ruthless that I’ll never have to worry about, but it’s those little lifestyle differences that I’m now realizing are what you really have to be on the lookout for. Don’t let me become a jerk, please.

The Advancement of Mateo Matic: Year 2 EXT

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For a year, the Ambassador stayed in a relatively low orbit around Ex-001, monitoring its developments on the surface. It occasionally flew off to expel its waste heat from the hot pocket on the other side of the host star to avoid detection, but then it flew right back to continue collecting data. There was no indication that either Bronach or Elder was aware of its presence overhead, so the invisibility protocols were holding. It didn’t hurt that it automatically relaxed them while it was on the other side of the planet, and that the ground inhabitants hadn’t bothered deploying any sort of satellite of their own. Oaksent probably believed that there was basically no way that anyone else could be around this far out in the galaxy, this far back in time. Which was ridiculous, because if they were able to travel here from the future, so could anyone else.

When the team came back, Leona and Ramses started skimming the data. The forefathers of this budding civilization were doing exactly what could be reasonably expected of them, but also a few unexpected things. They were staying within the confines of the geodesic dome despite the fact that the planet was habitable, evidently out of an abundance of caution, and so that their business could be taken care of in a controlled environment. They may have gotten the idea to do this from Dubai on Earth, which adopted this lifestyle back in the late 21st century. It became an isolate, determined to maintain its outdated and violent societal norms against a backdrop of global progress. The population dwindled over time, but the dome was still there the last time anyone checked. Here, in the seed of civilization for the Exin Empire, the population was expected to survive, and eventually expand. Should they let it happen?

The two of them had selected 147 people for the first generation, gestating each one about thirty times faster than normal until they were all in their teens. Not being the fatherly type, they used androids to raise these rapidly grown individuals from then on. They taught them everything a good group of indoctrinated slaves needed to know. Math, Science, Language, Physical Fitness; these were all on the schedule, but at their most basic levels, and history was nowhere to be found. They didn’t teach them anything about where they came from, and they steered clear of philosophy and ethics. It was no one’s job to question authority. There was only Bronach’s word, and their obedience.

Elder was reportedly under duress the entire time, though he seemingly grew tired of feeling the defiance in his heart so strongly. He fell into a routine, and just did whatever he was told, like it wasn’t even him anymore, but an automaton with no free will. If Team Matic was going to put a stop to this, rescuing the one person who Bronach needed to keep his plans moving forward was likely their best option. Elder didn’t want any of this, but Bronach wasn’t smart enough to do it on his own. If they were to take that tool away, what would he be left with? Then again, what would the consequences be for the team interfering in any form, let alone in such a monumental way? This wasn’t the first time they had changed the past, but it would probably be the biggest, and the hardest to predict. But also, what did it really matter at this point? Things already had changed, just by them coming here in the first place. The timeline was already new. There was no going back to the old one, unless maybe if they happened to run into Dilara. This was the earliest in the timeline they had ever been to, except when they were in The Constant during its early days. Was that the solution? Contacting Danica?

“Danica and the Constant are 16,000 light years away,” Leona reminded Olimpia.

“That’s nothing,” Olimpia replied. “We could just take the slingdrive there.”

“The slingdrive?” Ramses questioned, having not been listening to the conversation too hard until now. “Is that what the kids are calling it these days?”

“Yeah, because it’s like a slingshot,” Olimpia explained. “You can pull back, and let go, and it will generally go in the direction you’re aiming, but precise targeting is difficult at best, especially when you’re first learning. You’re bound to miss the mark on the first few attempts.”

Ramses frowned.

“No one’s mad at you,” Leona told him for the umpteenth time. “I think we’re supposed to be here anyway. I mean, we could have ended up landing in the timeline a thousand years ago, which wouldn’t have done us any good. Yet we happen to wind up just when the Goldilocks Corridor is getting interesting? That’s no coincidence.”

“Well, anyway,” Ramses began, “if that’s how we’re framing the quintessence drive, then trying to get to Danica would be foolish. I obviously don’t know how to aim this thing. We may indeed find ourselves a thousand years off course or worse.”

“That’s not what she’s saying,” Mateo decided. “There’s a learning curve with this new technology. It might not even be you, per se. Maybe the ship just can’t handle the quintessence yet, and needs to learn. Right now, we have a single point of data, which is our arrival two years ago. You need more data, which means you need more jumps.”

“Hold on,” Marie interjected. “Aren’t we trying to do something here? Shouldn’t we be saving Elder, or—I dunno—assassinating the Oaksent?”

“They were just saying, it would be too dangerous,” her sister insisted. “I don’t think we should be messing with the past any more than we already have. Ramses, aim for the future, and if we go to the wrong place, then try again. Keep trying until we get there. Every time we show up in the wrong point in spacetime, we should do as little as possible until that next jump.”

“Maybe we wouldn’t be changing time,” Mateo offered. “Maybe we always did come here to save Elder. We don’t know that that’s not what always happened. No one in the Corridor in the future ever mentioned him. Perhaps he’s but a footnote in history because we took him out of the equation at the right time. That’s the thing about changing history; if you don’t know that you’re doing it, you can’t be at fault. You might just be fulfilling your destiny; closing your loop.”

“He’s right,” Leona confirmed. “Getting him out of there could be our only purpose here. Society is incredibly advanced three thousand years from now. If we don’t take Oaksent’s toy away, maybe they turn out even more advanced. Maybe that would be changing the timeline.”

“I think that’s a weak justification,” Angela contended. “I still say we do nothing.”

“Hon, I think this may be one of those times that calls for a vote, even though we’re not a democracy,” Mateo said.

“Not yet,” Angela said, raising her voice too much. “I need time to build my case.”

“You’ll have the time,” Leona promised with a hand upon her friend’s. “We have all day to make a decision. Pia can jump down there and grab him in a matter of seconds if that’s what we decide to do. They’ll literally never see it coming.”

“I would like to do it,” Mateo volunteered. “If we agree to it, that is.”

“Why?” Leona asked him.

“I wanna help. And I don’t think I need to be invisible, though I do think I can pull that off for a limited time.”

“We’ll vote on that too,” Ramses suggested.

Marie shook her head. “Whoever goes can’t be invisible. We keep calling it a rescue, but we don’t know for sure that he’ll want to leave. That’s just what the satellite images imply. He may want to be there, or he may have his own plan. Either way, if he doesn’t want to come with us, he should have the right to refuse. I’ll agree to a rescue mission, but not an abduction. I won’t be party to that.”

“Good point,” Leona agreed. “Angie, you want time to formulate your argument? Tell us when you’re ready, and we’ll listen to it. I can’t tell you that the decision has to be unanimous, but we’ll consider every option carefully.”

“Do I get a vote?” It was Bronach Oakset. He was lounging on the couch. Except he wasn’t really there. Looking closely at the way he was sprawled out there, it was clear that he was on a different couch, and was merely projecting his image into the ship, just like he did on Welrios. Which was good, it meant their defenses were holding. But it also meant that they needed better defenses. No one should be able to come up here to spy.

Even so, just to be sure, Mateo stepped over, and attempted to smack him in the face. Yes, his hand went right through.

“Yes, daddy,” Bronach replied grossly.

“Goddammit,” Leona lamented.

“Oh, no, did I ruin your plans?” Bronach joked. “Look, I’ve told you in the past, and I’ve told you in the future. I can’t be beat. I know everything. I know where you’ve been, what you’ve done...where you’ll go, and what you’ll do. You want Elder, go ahead and take him.”

Without hesitating, Mateo disappeared. After a long detour, he reached the surface, where he grabbed Elder, and attempted to teleport back up to the ship. “Guys, I’m stuck,” he said through comms.

“Did I forget to mention the teleporter trap?” Bronach asked with a maniacal laugh. “Why do you think we’re in that dome, you idiots?”

“Shut it off,” Leona demanded.

“I’m not doing that,” Bronach replied. “The stopping and starting process is a major pain in the ass. But I’m having one of our people escort the two of them to the exit, where they’ll be free from the spatial field. I wasn’t kidding; you want ‘im, you got ‘im. But don’t think for a second that any of that matters. I scanned that man’s quantum state years ago. I can always bring him back. You’ll be taking a clone, and that will have zero impact on what I accomplish.” He sighed, and stood up to look around the room. “You will always fail. Best get used to it.”

Mateo and Elder appeared on the other side of the room.

“Welcome back!” Bronach exclaimed in a terrible approximation of sincerity.

“Let’s try this again,” Mateo growled. He steadily, but not too quickly, approached Bronach’s hologram, and swung a punch at him. To everyone’s surprise, it worked. Bronach fell back, tripped over his couch, and tumbled back behind it.

“How did you do that?” Leona questioned. “Is Oaksent just playing around?”

“No, he’s not.” Bronach stood up, and wiped the blood from his lip. “I second that question, how the fuck did you just do that!”

Mateo lifted his leg, and slammed it into Bronach’s chest, making contact once more, and forcing him down hard to his back. “I thought you knew everything. Now get the hell off my ship, and erase every single copy of Elder’s brain scan!”

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Extremus: Year 87

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Day One. Officially, anyway. Up until now, Tinaya has been wearing full dress uniform, which is usually reserved for ceremonies, and other formal events, such as her Commissioning Ceremony last week. But she has not been allowed to take it off throughout the entire transitional period. Traditionally, this week has not been part of the program for shift changes, but this is what the council decided on some years ago, and it’s the first time they’ve had the opportunity to see it through. In a weird twist on these procedures, Tinaya even has to sleep in these damn things, which have not been very comfortable, and she doesn’t really understand why they forced it upon her. Lataran didn’t have to do that, though she has her own problems. They had her Advancement Ceremony yesterday, where she was awarded the rank of Admiral. She will now become Tinaya’s primary advisor, and she’s struggling with it in ways that she has yet to clarify for Tinaya. If Soto Tamm were still alive, and hadn’t been stripped of his rank, he would be serving in this capacity as well. One day. One day, when Tinaya advances as well, there will finally be two Admirals at once.

It’s different for her, though. She is not the same kind of captain as Halan Yenant, Kaiora Leithe, Soto Tamm, or Lataran Keen. She’s only here to act as a bridge between Lataran and whoever ends up getting the job next. They still don’t know who that’s going to be, but they have about ten years to find them. They will become a normal captain for the next twenty-four years, and all will be right with the world. Tinaya is just here to make sure that happens. She had to lobby for the title of Interim Captain, instead of a regular Captain. What does this do? Very little right now, but once her shift is over, she’ll be promoted to Vice Admiral, instead of Full Admiral, and that distinction is quite important. It’s not just symbolic, but even if it were, that would be enough. She doesn’t want this to be seen as a dynasty, as she explained to the council before accepting this position. The people need to know that she’s not a power-hungry monster; that she is only here to help. She’s humble; one of the people.

Everyone knows her already, of course. She’s been working alongside the crew since the beginning of the year, and she was famous before this anyway. But still, now that the transition period is over, she wants to address the crew. Literally the entire crew. Thistle—the not-so-artificial intelligence—is handling every single one of the ship’s systems. Obviously, he could always be doing this, even if he weren’t pretending to not be a real boy, but they’re not going to cancel hundreds of jobs just because of the logic. People want to work, they want to contribute. And one way that Tinaya contributes is by making them feel valued and welcome. And comfortable. She’s standing on stage. Lataran is at her flank, smiling widely, and ready to add her two cents if she’s called to. Arqut is to Tinaya’s other side. He’s no longer the Superintendent, having stepped down at the same time Tinaya stepped up. There is no one in the position right now, but if he’s still alive when the need arises again, he’ll get back to it...unless someone asks him not to, in which case he’ll have a decision to make.

Tinaya is thinking about all this, stuck in her own head again. Lataran clears her throat suggestively. “Yes, thank you, Admiral Keen,” Tinaya says into the microphone for all to hear. “I wasn’t asleep. I wanted to wait one more minute for any stragglers.”

“Everyone’s here,” Athan says from the steps of the stage, where it does seem like he’s been keeping a close eye on the crowd. “I counted.” He was Lataran’s First Lieutenant, but his shift is over now too. Tinaya has yet to replace him, or the Second Lieutenant. He has some ideas for her, but she hasn’t taken the time to look them over. He’s widely considered to be the hardest working man on the ship, having served as Tamm’s Second Lieutenant before this, and just generally being known to go above and beyond with his duties. He’s probably exhausted, but he’s probably right about who Tinaya should choose as her lieutenants.

“Thank you, Lieutenant Velitchkov,” Tinaya says, into the mic again.

“Uh, it’s Mister Velitchkov,” he corrects.

“Not until you stop helping me, and start focusing more on self-care, Lieutenant,” she says affectionately, triggering the audience’s laughter. She starts to raise her voice, which likely forces the sound engineer to lower the volume on the speakers. “Now that we’ve confirmed our headcount, we’ll begin. I won’t keep you too long, I know that you all have very important things to get to. It is my hope that you will consider this to be a nice, relaxing break, rather than a dreadfully annoying inconvenience. I know that transitions can be difficult, and I want to thank you all for being so patient and helpful to me during my first week. I’m warning you now that I will continue to need your help as we push forward to our objective. I won’t talk about that, though; that none of us will be alive to see the Extremus planet. Every leader who has ever given you a speech has mentioned how brave you are for that. You already know that you are. Instead, I’ll remind you that I have a lot of experience in helping people make their respective departments and jobs better. I didn’t succeed in that alone, and I won’t succeed in this new job alone either. I need you. Therefore...I need you to be comfortable.

“I had my security briefing earlier this morning, where I was informed that the majority of you have been operating under PREPCON Three. I have worn the armor module myself before. I know how heavy and cumbersome it can be, especially after long periods of one-g. They also informed me that some of you have lowered the gravity in your sections to help with this. I’m not going to get you in trouble for that, but I would like it to stop. It places undue strain on our power systems, and risks the integrity of propulsion. The preparedness conditions were created by a group of smart Earthans who knew nothing of temporal manipulation. In particular, they didn’t know about teleportation. I am not at liberty to downgrade our condition to PREPCON Four. That is a military decision that I cannot overrule unless I want to instigate martial law, which I know none of us wants me to do. However, it is well within my rights to alter the mandate for my people. The military can do whatever they want. They are seeing a threat, whether it is there or not, but if it’s there, it will be their job to handle it; not yours. I am creating a new condition between Four and Three. I dunno, let’s call it Three-point-Five.

“You will wear your base modules, and your response modules over them, along with your glove liners, just like you would if you were in PREPCON Four. In addition, you will place your armor modules in active support mode, and each and every one of you will know where it is at all times, and maintain a spatial tether to it for your safety. It doesn’t have to be nearby, but you can’t sever the tether for any reason. At the first sign of danger, you will apport your armor module to your exact location, and be automatically inside of it. This is something that the models we use on the Extremus have always been capable of. We just needed to switch the feature on shipwide. Please note that this compromise applies to the general population of the crew unless given other orders. There will be times when your duties demand that you be wearing the armor module regardless, or even the PRU and helmet. I’m certainly not going to let you go on a spacewalk without these things. Also note that I have the power to change this at any point, for anyone and everyone. I could push you all to PREPCON One if I wanted to. It’s a moving target, as it always has been. Does this all sound fair?”

The crew seems rather responsive to this modification to the rules. Some seem extremely relieved by it. The Exin Empire is a constant threat to them, but as long as the ship stays in intergalactic space, there shouldn’t be any territorial disagreements. They could always come up and attack them unprovoked just because they’re assholes, but no one has given Tinaya a reason to believe that this will actually happen. The security briefing reported wide open spaces from here to the Extremus planet. The fact that they are at PREPCON Three is more of a precaution, based on a sense of paranoia that will hopefully lessen over time. She doesn’t want everyone to live in fear. If they’re going to do that, they may as well turn right back around and return to Gatewood.

Tinaya goes over a few more things. She welcomes others who have started their own shifts this week, and preemptively thanks those whose shifts will be ending soon. When the meeting is over, she sends them all back, either to active duty, or their downtime. Having heard that it was over, Thistle pings her to ask for a private meeting. She obliges, but takes Lataran and Athan with her. They teleport to the captain’s ready room, which Lataran apparently only ever used once. There are plenty of other secret meeting places on the ship, and she was always partial to a literally invisible room right next to the portal that led to the Bridger Section.

Thistle appears as a hologram. “I didn’t ask for them to be here.”

“Anything you can say to—”

“Don’t finish that sentence,” Thistle demands. “You have any idea how many times I’ve heard every cliché in the book? At any rate, this involves the two of them. I’m not sure how you’ll want to proceed after I tell you what I’ve discovered after I was given access to the navigational data.”

“Oh,” Lataran says. “You’re talking about the recourse jumps. Oh my God, I totally forgot about those.”

“Me too,” Athan agrees.

“I’ve not forgotten,” Tinaya says, “because I don’t know what they are.”

Thistle glares at Lataran in case she wants to answer instead.

She does. “Sixty-two years ago, then-Captain Yenant made a major course correction to save the ship from collision with a planet that was placed in its path to destroy the passengers. It would have resulted in the death of our ancestors, the prevention of all of our births, and the end of the mission forever. He went into hock for it, and died disgraced.” She is reluctant to continue, but musters the courage. “Olindse Belo was subsequently assigned to replace him as interim Captain, before Kaiora Leithe took over the position for a full shift. Before the transition, the two of them got together, and came up with a plan. They didn’t want to be in the void. That’s not where we’re going. We’re not trying to get tens of thousands of light years from where we started. We’re trying to get to the other side of a galaxy. In order to reclaim this objective, they started making new course corrections. Tiny ones. Tiny, imperceptible ones, thanks to the ship’s emergency teleporter.”

Tinaya stuffs her face in both of her palms, and incidentally moistens them up with a deep exhale. She pulls her eyes out from under her fingers, but keeps her nose and mouth still trapped. “Are you trying to tell me that this ship has been turning for sixty years, and no one noticed!”

“Yes,” Athan replies.

“We’re all complicit,” Tinaya laments. “We’re all complicit in a crime. Halan Yenant is considered to be the greatest Captain this ship has ever seen, and they still threw him in hock for it. You think they won’t do the same to us when they find out?”

“As I said,” Lataran goes on, “they’re tiny jumps. They’re within tolerable margins. They’re not illegal at all.”

Tinaya exhales again, but is now looking straight up, trying to gradually blind herself with the ceiling light. “Those margins are there to account for course deviations that occur during minor gravitational disturbances through space while traveling at reframe speeds. That’s what I was just talking about with the crew; blaming them for messing up our vector to feel a little more comfortable in their suits. Now I’m finding out that them adjusting the internal gravity of a few work areas hasn’t had any effect at all, and our problems with propulsion are actually the result of a systematic plan to undermine the rule of law on this ship, which has been going on since I was born. That is unacceptable Lataran. How can you be so calm?”

“Well, I found out about it myself more than two decades ago.”

“Well, to be fair,” Athan interjects, “you weren’t upset about it like she is.”

Lataran ignores this remark, and redirects her attention to Tinaya. “I’ve told you, captains keep secrets. You’ll do it too. You’ll even keep this one.”

“Oh, will I?”

“Yes, because if you don’t, we’re screwed!” she cries.

“We’re already screwed!” Tinaya cries back. “The whole reason Halan made that sacrifice is to protect us from the Exins, who want us to stay away from their beautiful little hellscape paradise. We’re in the void to survive, and the closer we get back to the galaxy, the more danger we’re in.”

“That’s another benefit of it being little by little,” Lataran reasons. “By the time we get back to it, we’ll be far beyond their region of space. There’s no way that they’ve taken over the whole galaxy.”

“They’re time travelers, Lataran! All they have is time. Yes, they may have taken over the whole galaxy. They may have done it four billion years ago!”

Lataran scoffs. “That’s not what the intelligence reports determine.”

“Maybe not,” Tinaya agrees, “but this is still a breach of trust. I ran my campaign for First Chair on a platform of transparency, and I erased my own job to actually make that work. I didn’t want to take this position because of how secretive it is, and I hoped to change that. But on my first full day, I learn that there is something I can’t change, because not only will it ruin the reputation of my aunt, but put my best friend in hock for the rest of her life. Either I get on board, and run the risk of the same outcome for all of us eventually, or I do the right thing now, and end up being the only one left unscathed, if that. Arqut was Superintendent, did he know?”

“Doubtful,” Athan responds.

“I never told him,” Lataran adds.

Tinaya frowns, and tries to figure out what she’s going to do about this. She’s damned if she does, and damned if she doesn’t. But if she comes clean, it’s worse for everyone. At least there’s hope that everything turns out okay if she just keeps lying, as Lataran predicted. So that’s the clincher. “Thistle, erase all knowledge of this from your memory. We’re covering this up. Goddammit.”

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Microstory 2265: Be One Small Part of It

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I’m glad that I waited, because what I’ve learned is that I’m not really allowed to tell you hardly anything about what’s happening with my upcoming interview. I can’t even tell you the date that it’s happening. All I can say is that the local part of the local talk show is going to be stretched pretty thin for just the one episode. Well, stretch is a bit of a stretch. (Ha, that’s funny.) They’re just not going to be local at all. Apparently, the whole station is part of some kind of group of dozens of other local stations. They call it a Regional Network Cooperative, and while I can’t totally explain what they do, it’s not that they’re owned by a parent company, but they do enjoy some kind of collaborative relationship. I think the biggest benefit of this is that, if one region comes up with a certain segment—say a fun game for their guests—another region can use it too, and even call it the same thing, without worrying about a legal issue. They may negotiate advertising deals too, though don’t quote me on that. Anyway, they would like to try something new with the episode that I’ll be on, which involves simulcasting it in other, or maybe even all, regions in the cooperative. If this pans out, it’s going to take some time to coordinate, because other regions may have special segments that they’ll want to include. It’s not like I’ll be on there for several hours on end. I’ll still only be one small part of it. Obviously, this only puts more pressure on me, but who am I to decline? I’ll just keep practicing with my interview specialist, and hope that I don’t screw this up. Or if I do, hope that I can leave this world eventually, and escape from the humiliation. Whew, that kind of sounds a little like suicide. Sorry, I meant that I might literally leave this world, and travel to another, which I’ve done before. No violence here. Carry on. I’ll tell you more about the thing when the legal department says that I can.

Microstory 2264: Tell You a Secret

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Yeah, it’s true, I’m considering relenting, and writing an autobiography. I didn’t want to do that, but I’m told that passively donating my money to various charities isn’t enough. I have to bolster my reputation through action. This could mean volunteer work, and hopefully one day, I’ll feel safe enough to get back out there without a posse of bodyguards. But for now, the charities need a reason to accept my donations. They don’t just take money from anyone. That can cause a whole lot of sociopolitical issues, as you can imagine. People are also making things up about me, because even though I’ve been talking about myself on this site, it’s not really organized, and it evidently doesn’t have enough about my past. People wanna know where I came from, and what my world is like. They’re envisioning wondrous and grand differences that just aren’t there. I guess it’s my job to set the record straight. Against my publicist’s instructions, I’m gonna tell you a secret, which is that I hate autobiographies. It’s not just because, how dare you think your life is so interesting that anyone would want to read about it, but also they’re usually pretty boring. But I may have no choice if someone else decides to write one of their own, and gets a ton of stuff wrong. I’ve not committed to anything yet. It’ll take a long time to write, and I don’t want it taking away from my other responsibilities.

Microstory 2263: A Long Road Trip

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In 2008, city planners from Kansas City, and those from Chicago came together with an idea. There were, of course, ways to travel between the two domains, but these pathways weren’t built specifically for this purpose. They twisted and turned to stop at other places, which was fine, but KC and Chicago enjoyed many special political and business relationships with each other, so they wanted something new. They began planning what would eventually come to be known as the Heartland Expressway, with a numbering designation of Interstate-56. It took sixteen years, but that highway is now officially complete, though people have been driving on sections of it for years. A couple of months ago, they held an event that was publicized as the Maiden Voyage of the Heartland Expressway. The current mayor of Kansas City, Missouri drove the roughly seven hours to Chicago with her whole family. Meanwhile, the mayor of Chicago did the same with his own family, stopping in the middle to have lunch with each other in a border town named River City, Illinois. It was a little funny, because the Chicago mayor’s family took too long to get going, and drove a little slower, so they were just a little bit late. His kids are younger, and you know how often they need to stop and get out during long road trips. Once they were finished with their meal, they went their separate ways, and ended up having dinner with each other’s deputy mayors. I’m sure you probably already heard about this, because it was a fun and innocuous story in the midst of all the bad news. It’s just relevant to today, because Kelly, Dutch and I just drove that route. It’s 428 miles from start to finish, which was perfect, because my EV gets about 450 miles to the charge. I wanted to test it out, and also just go somewhere. It was just a day trip, if you can believe it. We left at 5:00 in the morning, spent some time wandering around the city, particularly the pier, and waited for the car to charge up before leaving at around 14:00. We got home fairly late last night, and we were pretty tired, but we’re millionaires, so we didn’t have to worry about going into work today.

Microstory 2262: Rather Be Blissfully Ignorant

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All of you apparently expected to hear me give you an answer for whether I was going to do an interview for one of my local news television programs. In short, yes. In a tiny bit longer, it’s complicated. I will be doing something in some way at some point, but the network is making certain accommodations for it that I’m not privy to. I’ll give you all more information, not when I know it, but when I’m allowed to tell you. Don’t stress out about it, though, because it may be a long time before the gears start turning. In the meantime, my publicist is setting me up with one of the firm’s interview specialists to help me learn how to speak in public. I’ve done it before—in various ways, and to varying degrees of success—but I’ve never actually been interviewed, per se. I think we’ll be practicing a lot, which I’m sure I’ll have a lot of fun with...he said sarcastically. I don’t really care to talk about myself in person, and I don’t like trying to figure out how to censor my responses. The only thing worse than getting a question that I wasn’t ready for would be being prepared for all questions, and feeling anxious for them the whole time until it’s finally over. You would think that the worry that comes from not knowing what’s going to happen is what kills me, and that’s true in most situations, but when it comes to interacting with other people, I think I would rather be blissfully ignorant so I don’t spend too much time thinking about it. I’m just weird like that I guess. So to protect myself, that’s all I’ll say for now.

Microstory 2261: Call Her My Baby

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My license situation in this country, on this planet, has been complicated, to say the least. I do have an identity, though officially, I am not considered an alien from outer space. It doesn’t matter how many people believe me, or even if all the world leaders do, bureaucratic documentation simply does not have a box for that on any of the forms. So anyway, while I was technically certified as a driver here, I was only rated for a normal combustion engine. It required learning a lot more maintenance than I cared to know. I would much rather take it in to a professional, and have them deal with it. Mechanics has never been a strength for me, and more importantly, not an interest. Of course, electric vehicles being what they are, require a different kind of maintenance. It wasn’t easier or harder; just different. I had to go into the dealership, and take a little class, which included a written portion, and practical instruction. Then I had to take a test immediately afterwards. It was a sort of all-day affair, but they conduct these all the time, so there were about two dozen people with me. Most people were bored, because they were a lot more prepared than me, and they were more used to driving over all. I needed a refresher on operating motor vehicles anyway, since it’s been quite a while for me I think. I know I did it a little bit in Havenverse, but we mostly tried to walk or bike, since electric cars weren’t as prevalent there as we would have liked. We couldn’t afford one anyway. So that being done, I was able to finish the paperwork for my purchase, and take my new car home. You’ll notice that I did not refer to it as a she, or call her my baby. This is a machine that I need to get myself around, not a living member of the family. And it’s not just for fun. It’s a tool, to make our lives more convenient in a medium-sized city with some metropolitan sprawl. After Kelly and Dutch take their own classes, they’ll be able to use it too.

The Advancement of Mateo Matic: Year 1 EXT

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Since it was too risky to even attempt to use the quintessence drive again, Ramses engaged a short reframe burst to the planet where the signal was coming from. Once they arrived in orbit, they found there to be no lifesigns aboard the other ship. This wasn’t surprising as the design suggested it to be completely automated, meant to prepare the surface for habitation at a later date. It deployed dropships to begin construction on geodesic diamond domes, which was funny, because the atmosphere was fairly comparable to Earth’s. With only a minimal amount of bioengineering, any organic human should be able to survive unaided by external technologies. Leona posited that the onboard systems were not smart enough to realize this. They were programmed to build domes, and fill them with oxygenated air generated via electrolysis, so that was precisely what they were doing. It didn’t even seem to detect the Vellani Ambassador’s presence at all. So they just stayed out of its way.

Curious, the team hung out for the rest of the day until midnight central hit, staying invisible so they wouldn’t be seen by anyone else. The domes were completed by the time they returned to the timestream, and a second ship had arrived in the meantime. There could be people here now. “I’ll go down,” Olimpia volunteered.

“Just you?” Leona asked.

“Well, I wouldn’t dare go alone,” Olimpia clarified. “Perhaps Mateo could come with me for support? I believe that I can keep him invisible too, but taking any more may be too difficult.”

Leona sighed. “No one’s going down right now. Rambo, just keep an eye on the surface. Send an invisible probe, and gather some recon data for us. Pia, could I speak with you for a moment?”

When they were alone in the second pocket dimension, Olimpia spoke up rather defensively. “I know what you’re going to say, but this is how I contribute. I can’t dispatch and control probes, and I can’t mediate diplomatic discussions. I happen to be good at invisibility, so let me use that.”

“I don’t have a problem with you leaning on your strengths. I don’t have a problem at all. But I did want to speak with you about you and my husband.”

“What about us?”

“He told me what happened in the simulation.”

“I don’t know what he said—”

“He told me the truth,” Leona interrupted. “He told me that the two of you have been inching towards each other ever since you met, like a derelict satellite caught in a decaying orbit.”

“Okay, well I don’t know that I would describe it like that...”

“You’re right, because the satellite would just burn up in the atmosphere. And I don’t want that. The metaphor doesn’t work anyway, because it doesn’t account for me.”

“What are you saying?” Olimpia asked.

“Do you know who Serif is?”

“Yeah, she was a clay woman who came to life while you were living on Tribulation Island. She left to go save the multiverse from the Ochivari’s virus, or something.”

“She was carved from stone, not clay. She was more than only another member of our crew at the time. I was in love with her. I still am, to an extent. My brain contains memories of her that never took place. Mateo didn’t even have those fake memories, though, and when he disappeared from the timeline altogether, she and I only grew closer, because I couldn’t remember him either. When he came back...it was like falling in love with him all over again. And Serif was...sort of left out in the cold. Our three-person relationship didn’t work, because it was uneven.”

“I’m still not following.”

“There are six of us here, and we all love each other, in various ways. Angela and Marie are sisters who were once the same person. Mateo and Ramses are best friends. He and I are married. And you? You’re falling in love with him, if you haven’t already. I believe that he’s experiencing the same thing, at his own pace.”

“I’m not a homewrecker,” Olimpia argued.

“I know, and I don’t want you to be. None of us does. That’s why it’s a problem. Even if you push through it, ignore your feelings, and find someone else, this connection between you two will never go away. Instead of letting it be the way that it is, I propose a—shall we call it—an unconventional response. As I said, we all love each other, so I don’t think it’s completely impossible for you and me to...”

Olimpia shook her head slightly as Leona trailed off. “To what, fall in love with each other too? To save your marriage, and the team, you want to force a polyamory triangle?”

“Well, I don’t see it as being forced.”

“Are you even attracted to me?”

“Have you even seen a mirror before?”

Olimpia blushed a little. “This is weird.”

“I know, and it may blow up in our faces, but if we don’t try something, it definitely will. I don’t want one of us to become the next Serif. Nothing has happened between you two yet, so let’s go on this journey together. Let’s not keep secrets, and hide our true selves. You don’t have to come up with an excuse to spend time with him. You and I would be better suited for the ground mission. You have the invisibility, I have the brains. I didn’t mean to say it like that, I’m sorry. I know that sounds mean.”

“It’s fine,” Olimpia assured her. “I know I’m not stupid. I’m just uneducated, because whenever my teacher tried to ask me to respond to a query, I would give the answer several times in a row.”

Olimpia was the only one still wearing a Cassidy cuff, but still Leona would forget that this was because of her sonic echoing time affliction. She had a pretty good reason for her lack of life experiences. “Right, I get that.” She paused for a moment. “So. Are you willing to try this weird thing? It’s unusual, to say the least, but I don’t just want to be the jealous, resentful wife who denies my man’s desires because society has told me that only two people are allowed to be together at any one time.”

Olimpia reached up, and took a lock of Leona’s hair out from behind her ear to let it fall in front of it.

“What was that for?”

“So I could do this...” She reached up again, and tucked the hair back behind Leona’s ear, placing their faces close together as well. “Gut reaction, how did that feel? Uncomfortable? Awkward? Breathtaking?”

“Both B and C maybe,” Leona answered.

Olimpia giggled. “I suppose that people date each other all the time without knowing where it’s going. That’s the whole point of the dates. All we’re doing is agreeing that true love is the end goal, and admitting that if we don’t reach that goal, I’m gonna die alone. I’m a time traveler, and my options are limited. So if you and I can’t make it work, it probably means that the only reason I fell in love with Mateo is because, to me, he may as well be the last man on Earth.”

“So, that’s what we’ll do. We’ll take it slow, start with a first date; no sex.”

“No sex,” Olimpia agreed. “No sex...at all. If you really want to give this a shot, I think you two need to pretend like you’re not already together, just for a time.”

Leona nodded, considering the parameters. “I think that makes sense. Polyamory doesn’t work unless there’s mutuality. Without that, it just devolves into polygamy.”

“Yeah. So it’s settled. You and I will go down to check out the dome while Mateo sets up a romantic date for us.”

“Is that what we settled on, that he does all the work?”

“You and I had the hard conversation,” Olimpia reasoned. “Let him do something.”

The two of them called Mateo into the pocket to essentially have the same conversation all over again until he came to the same conclusion. It was definitely weird until he looked at it from the correct angle. They had to be active participants in this situation, rather than trying to let the chips fall where they may, and hoping that none of them flew up to hit someone in the eye. He had no problem with staying home to set up their first three-person date together while the womenfolk went off to figure out what was going on with the planet below.

Ramses agreed to help once he was clued into the new dynamic. “Dude, that’s great, man. Two ladies, I hear that’s kinda the dream.”

“It’s not like that,” Mateo argued.

“Bullshit. Ya know, you can appreciate someone for their mind, and their body at the same time.”

“What would you know about it?” Mateo asked.

“I still have sexual needs, I just choose to fulfill them on my own.”

“So, you’re not annoyed that I’ve found two special people, and you’ve not even found one?”

“Nah, it’s cool. Really. I’ve always been ultra-focused on my work. Creating something that does exactly what I want it to do is the closest thing to a relationship that I’ve ever needed. I might have thought twice about turning myself into a time traveler if I felt the compulsion to seek out a mate.” He stopped setting the plates down. “Ugh. This dimension is so bland. I can’t work with this. I think you need to have your date in a simulation.”

“No, it has to be a real place with real food,” Mateo contended. “If I just ask the computer to make something perfect, I’ll have done nothing.”

“Let me help.” Angela was in the doorway.

Mateo was worried. “Angie, I didn’t know you were in this pocket.”

“I was bored. And you forgot to switch off your comm disc again. We all heard everything.”

Mateo widened his eyes in horror. “Leona?”

“It’s fine, love. Just locker room talk. It’s perfectly normal to have a conversation with your friends about someone you haven’t had sex with yet.”

“Huh?” Ramses was as confused as Angela.

“We’re starting from scratch,” Mateo explained. He turned away to speak into his disc again. “Okay, I’ll see you two tonight. I won’t say I love you, because I don’t know you very well yet. Okay, love you, bye.” He tapped it off. “Dammit.”

“Aww,” Angela feigned fawning.

“Did you say you could help with something?” Mateo asked her, embarrassed.

“This new girl you’re seeing,” Angela joked, “called it four-dimensional holography. We all appear to have our own specialties, and mine is being able to generate images that last across time without me having to be focused on them. I can just set something up, and walk away, so I’m confident that I can make this room look like anything,” she said, looking around, and taking mental notes of a few ideas.

“Wow. That’s very exciting, and not the least bit concerning since I seem to be the only one who’s not particularly good at creating holograms in any special sort of way.”

“I don’t have a specialty either,” Ramses claimed.

“Are you kidding me?” Mateo asked. “You take our power, and replicate it in technology. This ship is invisible.”

“Yeah, well, I guess.”

“So, what were we thinking?” Angela asked, putting the conversation back on track. “Grand banquet hall? Kitschy theme restaurant? Low stakes fast-casual joint?”

Mateo thought through his options, which were apparently limitless. “Um. Let’s go with quaint small town bar and grill that used to be City Hall before they built the new one ten years ago.”

“I think I can make that work.” Angela began to throw up some holograms, adjusting bits and pieces here and there, taking in input from the two guys and her sister, until they had something as original as possible while still channeling photons from real places elsewhere in spacetime.

After Leona and Olimpia came back from their little mission, they showered, and showed up for the date. Marie served as their waiter, because she wanted to be a part of it too. She has a hypertime food synthesizer to make the food, but she elected to sit and wait to make it feel more real. The dinner was nice. They didn’t hold onto the ruse about being strangers on a blind date. They discussed their real lives, acknowledging that they were quite familiar with each other already. The whole team was there, with Ramses and Marie having their own meal together as friends. So they were able to hear the mission debrief too. A very young Bronach Oaksent was in the dome with none other than Elder Caverness. They were seemingly the only two people on the planet, besides the secret spies. They were currently calling it Ex-001, which Leona once mistakenly believed to be the seat of power for the Exin Empire. So it did exist, but instead of being the most important world, it was simply the first one to be settled. It made Mateo wonder, what would become of it thousands of years from now? Would it end up holding secrets that were just waiting to be exploited?

The meal was a success, which wasn’t surprising, because they were all friends, and there was nothing to fight about at the moment. As promised, it did not end in sex. In fact, Mateo retired to his own room in the second pocket dimension, as he would if this really were his first evening with a new prospect. They chose not to worry too much about what was happening on Ex-001, or how they would involve themselves. They couldn’t be sure how much would change during their interim year. As it turned out, quite a lot. There were now 147 new people living there.

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Extremus: Year 86

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Someone on Verdemus, or who is aware that it was not destroyed, is a traitor, or perhaps a spy. It was determined that no one could be trusted to thoroughly investigate the matter. They had to bring in outside help to take care of things. Fortunately, there is a procedure for this sort of thing. Obviously, everyone who lives on Extremus has their own file. Whether they’re a member of the crew, or a civilian; a productive member of society with contribution points, or someone who is happy enough with the bare minimum—everyone is accounted for. Using an airgapped computer, this full manifest can be plugged into an isolated artificial intelligence program. Queries can be posed to it, looking for certain criteria. The system is offline most of the time, as there is rarely a need for it, and its use is not recorded beyond logging every user with a timestamp. Of course, not everyone has access to this manifest synthesis program, but Tinaya suspects that it’s typically dusted off to determine future leadership, such as herself, and she’s narrowed down the list of possible people who wrote the story of her life for her. They kept her from the captain’s seat so she could instead one day become First Chair.

As the ship’s current consul, Icarus Faulkner is on the list of those with access to the computer. Deciding that something had to be done about the attacks on Verdemus, he went into the room alone, and asked the AI to find him a candidate. Zaira Gardner is believed to be a very, very, very distant relative to famed time traveler, Lauren Gardner, though the family tree remains unconfirmed. She reminds Tinaya a lot of herself at that age. Zaira is bright, but unmotivated. In an alternate reality, she’s the Sherlock Holmes of the ship, having a knack for noticing the smallest, and most obscure details. She has not said what led her to abandoning her potential, but she has been chosen for a job now. She is leading the investigation into the Verdemusian attacks, using a team picked for her by the only other name filtered from the manifest. Cahal Fitzgerald now serves as a mini-superintendent, responsible for selecting others who will aid them in this impartial investigation. Tinaya does not know this for sure, but Consul Faulkner probably included a parameter in his search that these two should not be likely to spill the beans to the general population about this whole thing. They need to be unbiased, but still discreet. They questioned Tinaya second, after the Captain, but she hasn’t heard a peep from them since. Hopefully, it’s not her problem anymore.

Most of the administration for the civilian government has changed hands since Tinaya last spoke with them. She spent the majority of this time on-world, and has been kind of trying to stay out of everything since her return from there. Either the secret investigation turned up something that points to Tinaya as a responsible party, or the council wants to scold her for some other reason. She’s been summoned to the Meeting Hall. Arqut was asked to recuse himself from this meeting in his capacity as the Superintendent, but this is his wife they’re talking about, so he accompanies her, and would like to see them try to kick him out.

“That will not be necessary,” Head Councillor Paddon says with her hand up to calm down an imaginary unruly crowd. “But I would ask you to refrain from participating in this discussion. This will be Tinaya’s decision, and Tinaya’s alone.” The interesting thing about this one is that Paddon is both her given name and surname. It wasn’t even an accident either. Her parents were a little—shall we say—crazy nutso cuckoo? Their last name was Paddon, and they always thought that it would be a nice first name too, so instead of suggesting this to one of their friends, they took it for themselves, resulting in the unique Paddon Paddon. She could have changed it at some point, but she became mildly famous for it by the time she could even speak, so it seemed like a waste of time and energy when people could and would continue to tease her for it either way. Best just to lean into it, and let them have their fun.

“What decision?” Tinaya asks as she stands before the council like a criminal to be judged.

“I won’t bore you with any preamble,” Paddon continues. “We’re asking you to become this vessel’s next captain. It’s as simple as that.”

Tinaya chuckles once, but rather quietly. She quickly scans the council, who are not laughing with her. She accidentally releases a second chuckle, which is louder this time. When they don’t respond appropriately, she can’t help but convert it into a full-on laugh. “I’m sorry, are you serious? You’re not being serious.”

“Quite,” Paddon confirms.

“Pardon,” Tinaya begins, “but have you seen my face? I’m sixty-two years old.”

“Apologies,” Paddon says, “but our records indicate that you are ten years younger than that.” She sifts through some papers. Yes, they’re still using paper.

“In realtime, yes, but I was stuck in the past on Gatewood for about a year,” Tinaya reminds them, “and when we tried to go back, we were off course by several years. So I’m ten years older than my birthday should indicate.”

Paddon nods, remembering this now. “Right, right. Well, just the same, we fail to see how your age has to do with anything.”

“You can’t have a sixty-two year old Captain. I’m sorry, more like sixty-three by the time I would sit down. That’s absurd. Captains are in their twenties when they first start, maybe their thirties.”

Paddon looks through the papers again, but facetiously this time. “I don’t recall that being one of our laws. Could you point me to the subsection?”

Tinaya rolls her eyes. “It’s not a law, it’s just...a thing.”

The Head Councillor gets real serious now. “Miss Leithe, you have done more for the ship than any one person has, including the former captains.”

“Omega and Valencia,” Tinaya responds quite abruptly, and rudely.

“They’re immortal, they don’t count.” Paddon takes a breath. “I know that this is a lot to take in, and we generally try to find a replacement earlier in the year prior to the handoff, but it’s been decided that Extremus needs a big win. It needs a story, and it needs a leader that everyone can get behind enthusiastically. The other candidates are great, but they’re not special like you are. A former First Chair who relinquished her own power to make the government more democratic ends up being rewarded with, not only a post on the crew, but the highest honor. It will boost morale.”

“So this is nothing more than a political move.”

“They are all political moves,” Paddon says with a raised voice, but not an angry one. “You should have learned that by now. You even just told us how ancient you were.”

“This is highly irregular,” Tinaya contends.

“Exactly,” Paddon replies, understanding that Tinaya isn’t saying that this is a good thing, but maintaining the position that it is just the same.

Tinaya has been intentionally avoiding making eye contact with Lataran this whole time, even before the insane offer. Their relationship has become more awkward than ever since the time travel incident. She found herself feeling more loyal to the Lataran’s future self than the present day version, and though she never said as much out loud, this Lataran could sense it. She’s been respectfully keeping her distance. Tinaya’s gaze darts over to her now to see Lataran looking back with the love and admiration that Tinaya does not deserve.

Paddon notices. “Who do you think threw your hat in the ring?”

“And that makes it a good reason?” Tinaya questions.

“Captain Keen made a compelling argument,” Paddon explains. “What did I say, Superintendent?” she adds, holding up a finger to Arqut, who was probably about to speak out of turn.

Tinaya looks at his face now, and does her best to read his mind. She thinks she’s figured it out. “Two best friends, and a husband,” Tinaya goes on. “Plus, my aunt was Captain before me. It’s a freaking dynasty. The history books tend not to like that.”

“I’m not worried about the books right now,” Paddon claims.

“Yes, you are. You said this whole thing was about optics.”

“No, it’s about uniting the passengers under a banner they can trust. They all love you. What about that are you not understanding? Do you have any idea how much deepfake porn there is of you? You’re the most popular likeness of all Extremusians.”

“I don’t wanna hear about that.” Deepfake porn is not illegal here, though many believe that it should be. The way the law sees it, as long as you keep it to yourself, you can do just about whatever you want in the privacy of your own home. You have to create all of the images yourself, and they can’t be distributed, but there are loopholes to that limitation. Again, Tinaya doesn’t involve herself in such matters.

“I’m sorry I brought it up,” Paddon tells her sincerely. “I’m just trying to encourage you to think about this seriously. You have come so far. The people don’t know about Verdemus, but they’ve been told that your away mission saved their lives, and they’re grateful. Captain Keen’s stint is over. Someone has to replace her for the next twenty-four years, and we would like to find someone who is popular, so they can be an effective leader. You are not the only one who can do that, but you are the best, and we firmly believe that you can keep us on track. There is nothing that says a former civilian leader cannot join the crew. It’s just never been done before...except for Ovan Teleres, but that was this whole weird thing.”

“I don’t think you’re crazy for picking me,” Tinaya admits. “I just don’t think it’s the right choice. I think it’ll backfire. Maybe not tomorrow, but it could have major consequences for the future safety and prosperity of this mission.”

“You’re not wrong,” Paddon admits right back. “We feel that, in the long run, it will do more good than harm.”

Consul Faulkner stands up. “Let’s take a break. It sounds like we’re starting to go in circles, so we will reconvene same time tomorrow for further discussion, or your final answer, Miss Leithe.”

Tinaya goes back home with Arqut. Lataran follows them there to plead her case. After talking about it incessantly for half an eternity, Tinaya makes her decision in her head, but doesn’t say anything to the two of them. The next day, they all show up in the Meeting Hall. Tinaya stands back up on the platform, and looks at the whole group. “Okay. I’ll do it. But I have some conditions, which we can talk about. First and foremost—and this one is nonnegotiable—I’m not going to be an eighty-six-year-old captain. I’ll step down in ten years. You said you wanted to get back on track, and that’s how the timeline works out.”

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