The Advancement of Mateo Matic: April 18, 2409

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No one came for them. Constance detected an unusual energy draw that came from the Dante, to their mysterious captors, which occurred at exactly midnight central, but other than that, nothing happened. They didn’t even lose much power as a result of whatever that was. Perhaps it was just a strange way of scanning them, because a few minutes later, the cargo hold opened up again, and spit them out unharmed. The ship accelerated to higher speeds, and then disappeared with a reframe engine.

“What the hell was that?” Olimpia questioned.

“No idea,” Leona answered, “but it’s April 18 2409.” She took a pause. “Constance, run a level three diagnostic on all systems.”

“There’s no such thing as a level three diagnostic,” Constance replied. “You made that up.”

“Actually, I can’t take credit.”

“Right away, sir,” Constance said with a slight smile. She went off to complete the task as requested. No sooner was she finished with it, having turned up nothing of interest or concern, did another ship appear out of nowhere. This one was much smaller—and less foreboding—and it responded to their calls.

“Hello, this is the Dardieti Outpost Boyce Shuttle One. Do I have a Mateo Matic on the line?”

“This is Mateo. Go ahead.”

“I’ve been rerouted to find you. It’s taken me a long time, but we received the message you sent out last year. Your presence has been requested on Dardius proper.”

“For what purpose?” Leona asked.

“It has something to do with the future, and your family, or the future of your family,” Boyce One replied. “That’s all I know. I’ve given the message, and confirmed that you’ve received it. Now I really must return to my work. This has been a really...” He mumbled and trailed off a little before remembering to switch off the mic.

“Thank you, Boyce One. If it is required of you, you can let them know that we are on our way, and that we’ll be there as soon as possible. We’re on our pattern.”

He didn’t say anything further, but he surely heard the last message. His little ship flew off in the same direction as the other one, though not at reframe speeds. Dardieti Outpost. How many of those were there, and where? All the way out here, they were nearly three million light years from home. This meant that that was how far Team Matic was going to have to travel to reach it themselves. The Dante wasn’t any more capable of crossing that distance in any reasonable span of time than the Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez was. With only the reframe engine, it would take them four thousand years. They either needed to reach out to their friends with true faster-than-light capabilities, or a Nexus. Though, the Dante could not fit inside of a Nexus transport cavity, so if they used that method, it would have to be jury-rigged, and they only ever got that to work in the Parallel.

“Does anyone live near the Nexus in Antarctica?” Angela asked.

“No, they abandoned the continent entirely,” Leona explained. “There was a time when people were able to live there because climate breakdown made it more hospitable to humans, but then they started to solve those problems, and made it colder again. They could still survive there if they wanted to, of course, but the population eventually dwindled into nothing. Either way, they weren’t in that region, no.”

“He asked about me,” Mateo pointed out. “Not the rest of you. He didn’t say anything about the rest of the team. I can go alone.”

“We’re not headed to enemy territory, Matty,” Ramses said with a laugh. “We can go. Might as well. I hear it sports some nice vacation spots. I was too busy to partake when I was living there before. Maybe we’ll get lucky, and we won’t be there to solve some kind of crisis.”

“It clearly took years for us to get the message,” Leona reasoned, “and could take us years of real time to arrive. I detected no sense of urgency in the messenger’s voice.”

“Maybe that had more to do with the messenger himself,” Marie reasoned right back. “Just because he wasn’t in a hurry doesn’t mean there is no hurry.”

“True. Dante?” Leona started tapping on the main console. “Teleport to these coordinates please.”

“Teleporting now.”

The darkness of space they could see through the viewscreens was replaced by the brightness of the snow. They opened the hatch, and let in the cold. It was a surreal feeling, knowing that it was profoundly frigid out here, but being basically unfazed by it. Ramses’ 3.0 model substrates were working well for them, and they were already clearly better than the previous model. “Hey, Dante, what’s the exact temperature?”

“It’s negative forty degrees,” Dante responded.

“Is that Fahrenheit or Celsius?” Olimpia asked.

Leona and Constance laughed. “Yes.”

“Why is that so funny?” Mateo questioned.

“They’re the same,” Leona explained.

The two of them stared at her.

“They’re the same at that degree,” Constance clarified. “They converge.”

“Got it. Thanks. Now it’s funny.” Not really.

“It’s underground, right?” Marie moves on from the subject. “How do we find it?”

“Hey, Opsocor!” Leona shouted into the wind aimlessly.

They heard the sound of metal against metal behind the Dante. They turned the corner to find a hidden trap door opening for them several meters away. They walked over to it and hopped inside.

“Opsocor, please teleport us to the main floor.”

Nothing happened.

“Wait, we can’t just teleport ourselves?” Angela asked.

“Can you?” Leona asked. “We’re not authorized to do so. The system is quite sophisticated.”

“Maybe it will work for you since you’re the one who got this giant hatch open,” Mateo suggested. “Leona, Queen of the Nexus.”

“That’s not the real problem. If Opsocor can’t do it, maybe she can’t do anything.” Still, she jumped herself away. Ten minutes later, she was knocking on the next hidden trapdoor, which they had to open from this side. They  jumped down to the second level, and then did it again to get to the control room below that.

“Is everything okay?” Ramses asked.

“No,” Leona answered with a sigh. “She’s not responding to me. I don’t know why not. But nothing is turning on either, except for this emergency lighting.”

“I wanted to wait until everyone was here,” Opsocor’s voice came in through the speakers. “I am a prerecorded facsimile of the one you know as Venus Opsocor. I have access control over the system, which allows me to let in anyone for safety concerns, or in your case, to explain what’s happened. This Nexus building has been taken offline. It has been too significantly altered, and therefore automatically removed from the network. It is incapable of transporting anyone anywhere. Do not attempt to—no. Yes, sorry. Shifting response path. You are indeed authorized to make attempts at repair. I am unable to run diagnostic tests, or provide you with any technical specifications, or troubleshooting assistance. Again, this is a prerecorded facsimile with limited response paths. I was not made aware of what has been broken within the system. I am here as a result of whatever those changes were, which you will have to correct yourself if you want to bring the station back to operational standards. Do not attempt to converse with me. I will not respond to any calls. This message will not be repeated. Thank you, and have a nice rest of your life.”

“So essentially,” Marie began, “it’s broken, but the AI doesn’t know how it’s broken, because that message was recorded just in case something like this happened.”

“It’s not an AI, it’s a real person,” Ramses corrected.

“Yeah,” Leona agreed. She got on her hands and knees, and started to get to work on the main computer.

Meanwhile, Mateo was shining his watch light through the observation window, and trying to use his arms to block ambient light from his eyes. “I think I know what’s wrong with it,” he declares.

Leona got up. “You do?”

“Don’t look so surprised. Can you get the lights on in the Nexus chamber? The drum is missing.”

“The drum?” Leona asked, confused.

“I don’t know what it’s called. It’s the giant thing that hangs over the cavity.”

“Uhh...I don’t know how to get the lights on manually.” She opened the door from the control room, and walked down the steps as everyone else followed. She used her light illusion ability to conjure a nano-sun on the ceiling, which illuminated the whole chamber. Mateo was right, it was totally missing. “That’s not a drum, Mateo. That is the Nexus. Everything else is either just the interface to it, or lets you control the rest of the building, like the lights. It’s really the only thing you need, and somebody took it. They took the whole thing out. What’s left doesn’t even look damaged.”

“What should we do?” Constance asked. “I don’t have the data on this thing; I wasn’t allowed, but I’m still smart, so I could help.”

“There’s no way to fix it. It’s like a car without an engine, or a boat without water. There’s nothing to repair. We would have to get it back, or replace it. I wouldn’t know how to build one. She told us that we won’t be able to read the manual, and I’ve seen the guts inside before, but not enough to recreate it from nothing. At this point, our only hope is to call the Jameela Jamil.”

“Okay, we’ll do that,” Mateo decided.

“There’s another option, if we don’t want to bother Team Keshida with this,” Ramses said.

“What would that be?”

“We could try to find the second Nexus on Earth.”

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The Advancement of Mateo Matic: February 14, 2399

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It was clear to Leona that Connell was never in the military, nor law enforcement. He was a wretched shot. He was just holding up his gun, and waving it around aimlessly, hoping to eventually hit something. She took it from him, and shot all of the henchmen in the legs. “I’m letting you live,” she announces, “not so you can come after me later, but so you can lick your wounds, and move on with your lives. Your boss is dead. He betrayed me, and karma paid him for it. Leave me alone, or the next time I’m holding a gun, I’ll aim higher. If I later decide that Labhrás is entitled to vengeance, I’ll take care of it myself, and send you the bill.” Satisfied that the firefight was over, Leona went with Connell to Dublin Airport. So they were in Ireland, or at least what’s left of it since most of the North Atlantic Isles were transported to the Fourth Quadrant.

The flight was the longest she’s ever experienced. After a long layover who knows where, it’s turned out that they’ve flown all the way down to Antarctica. Specifically, they’re landing at the Mozambican Naval Fleet Base. This still doesn’t explain who this Connell is, or who his boss might be, but it’s a lead. Technically, it’s not impossible that Coronel Zacarias is the one who is responsible for the bounty, but it’s pretty far-fetched. They left on great terms, and she gave him her contact info, so he would not have needed to set up this crazy elaborate plan to get someone else to kill her. Her guess is that she was right when she thought it was possible that someone had invaded and taken over the Nexus research facility. She’s proven right when they walk inside, and see the people milling about. These are definitely not Mozambican sailors. They’re dressed funny, but not unfamiliarly. She’s seen this kind of clothing before. Where was it?

“Oh, Christ, you’re from the Fifth Division.”

“Precisely, my dear!”

“How the hell did you get here?”

“That is not my right to tell,” Connell replies. “The boss will want to speak with you. It could be today, it could be tomorrow. It could be years from now. You’ll just have to hang out in hock and wait until he’s good and goddamn ready.”

They’ve just entered the hock section when a man jogs up. “Sir. It’s for you?” He hands Connell a comms device.

“Yes?” he asks the person on the other end. “I understand. No, right away, sir.” He hands the device back, and tries to say something to Leona, but she’s distracted.

“I’m okay,” Coronel Zacarias tells her from his cell. “I’m gonna need you to put on a brave face for me, okay?”

“Why didn’t you call?” Leona asks him.

“We’re leaving,” Connell insists, trying to pull her away.

“Get your hands off me,” Leona demands. “I won’t ask a second time.”

“I’m taking you to the boss.”

Leona twists his arm, and flips him onto his back. She steals his gun, and shoots the nearest other Fifth Divisioners. She hits him in the legs again, but she’s prepared to aim higher, like she promised the Irish gangsters.

“Stop!” Connell orders his men before they get the chance to shoot her back. “Stop! She must live!”

Leona lowers the gun to train it on Connell’s forehead. “I left you my number.”

“There was nothing that you could do,” Coronel Zacarias explains. “You would not have been able to come in time.”

“I could teleport.”’

“You can?”

“Well...not anymore, but when this happened, it’s possible. You should have reached out,” Leona reasons.

Zacarias shakes his head. “It would have only placed you in danger along with us. They didn’t know we knew each other. I never told them. They only know now because we’re talking.”

“I’m here now. I’ll get you out.”

“Don’t worry about us.”

She is worried about him. She feels like this is her fault, and it probably is. It usually is. Can she break him out? She could take out all these guys like John Wick before even one of them gets a shot off. The Crucia Heavy doesn’t like firearms, and taught her and Ellie to dislike them too, but she trained them on targeting anyway. It doesn’t matter how good of a fighter you are, you’re not faster than a bullet, and sometimes the only way to stop them from flying towards you is to send your own. Still, even if she got these people out of the cells, what would they do then? Would they escape? That would be a tall order. She has no way off the continent. She doesn’t have any control over the base’s systems, and Zacarias almost certainly doesn’t either. It is as they say, the only way out is through. She’s going to have to be diplomatic. Ugh. She’s no good at that anymore, especially not since her training on Flindekeldan. She carelessly drops the gun on Connell’s chest. “No! Touching!”

Connell is winded. “Yeah. Never again.” He struggles to get himself back to his feet, but slaps the guy who tries to help him away. “Never again,” he repeats. He brushes the dust off his pants, and takes a deep transitional breath. “Now, if you’ll follow me...” He holds his arms out to indicate the direction they’ll be going.

She lunges towards him by only a few centimeters to test his reaction. He flinches, so that’s good to know.

Connell leads her down the corridors, and up the elevator to the top level. It’s above ground and on the far end, allowing them to see the cliff and sea before them on one side, and the snow covered land on the other. “This is as far as I go.”

Leona looks at the ominous door. “Sleep with one eye open,” she warns.

He’s unable to hide a shiver. He starts to walk back the way they came.

Leona readies herself, then opens the door without knocking. Time freezes in her head as she considers who may be on the other side of it. If she didn’t know that this had something to do with her time in the Fifth Division, she may have guessed past and future greatest hits, like Erlendr or Zeferino Preston. Or maybe it’s someone who was actually a friend before, like Serkan Demir or Pribadium Delgado. Those being so random, and having nothing to do with any of these other people here, she dismisses them. She has narrowed it down to Mithridates Preston, Xerian Oyana, or that security guard that they left at the entrance to the time machine that ultimately led them here. They all have beef with Team Matic, or could have conceivably developed one in the meantime. They parted on all right terms, but who knows what has happened since then? The suspect is standing behind a desk, his back to her. She approaches him as he turns around to face her. She winces when she sees his face. “Who the hell are you?”

The Advancement of Mateo Matic: October 8, 2398

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Mateo’s phone rings. It’s Moray, which isn’t odd. His brother, Carlin has been calling a lot lately, trying to get him to teleport up to Palmeria. This is probably him, thinking that using a different phone is like a new strategy. “Mr. Matic, are you there?” It actually is Moray, he’s whispering.

“You can just call me Mateo,” he reminds him.

“You need to come right now. I know that we keep saying that, but it really is an emergency.”

“What kind of emergency?” Mateo asks. “Tell me what happened.”

“Heath’s ex-husband is here. He’s really mad. He’s demanding to see him and Marie. He has Carlin and me trapped on the little island. We’ve been helping get the resort ready for the next guest every morning, but the Waltons are still in the main house on the big island. They don’t know anything’s happened yet. What do we do?”

“I’m not sure that I can teleport,” Mateo explains as he’s rushing down the stairs, “but I’m going to do what I can. I’m going to hand Ramses the phone, so you can stay on the line with him.”

“I don’t know how long I can hide in the bathroom,” Moray explains in a lower voice. “He’s going to get suspicious.”

“Don’t make him any angrier,” Mateo tells him. “Hang up if you have to. Someone is coming, I promise.” He’s reached the lab. He covers the mouthpiece with his hand, and relays the info to Ramses. Then he hands over the phone, and teleports away.

He doesn’t know where he is, but it’s nowhere near Palmeria. The small border country is on an island in a lake. This is saltwater. And it’s freezing. And he literally doesn’t know which way is up. Let’s see, what did his brother, Darko say about this? That’s right. Blow bubbles, and head in the same direction. He releases what little air he has left, and follows them up. The sun is bearing straight down on him, but it still feels cold enough for him to die of hypothermia. Sometimes, when he’s tried to teleport in recent days, he has arrived late. Often he doesn’t go anywhere at all. He’s occasionally been a little bit off the mark, but unless this is the Great Salt Lake, he’s a thousand miles from his destination. Even if this were the Salt Lake, that would probably be true, though it might not be so cold.

There is no land in sight, though that may have more to do with the waves blocking his view. There’s no way to know, and without even a vague guess as to where he is, he can’t possibly know which direction to try to swim. Well, it could be worse. He could have ended up at the bottom of the ocean, instead of near the surface. Then again, at least that would have been a quick death. Who knows how long he’ll last if he can’t get his powers working again, if only once more? God, that’s such a bad idea. Teleporting is what got him into this mess, it is not going to get him out. Damn, he doesn’t even have his phone! Why didn’t he just ask Moray to hang up and call Ramses? Oh, because it’s only hindsight that is 20/20.

He has to get out of this water, and warm up. His only choice is to pick a direction, and cross his fingers. What he wouldn’t give to be in a lifeboat with a tiger right now, or even just a man with a tiger’s name. This is all wasteful thinking. There is no boat, no living mobile island. There’s just him and the deep blue sea. Whether he makes it to land or not, swimming will get his blood pumping, and keep him warmer for longer. Perhaps Ramses can track all teleportation around the planet. He’ll realize that Mateo never made it to Palmeria, use tech to get there himself to help, and then maybe send someone else on The Olimpia? How long will that take? A matter of hours? Surely he has hours of life left in him. Not necessarily, or rather, not likely.

He takes a deep breath to prepare himself, and then reaches across the water, pulling it towards him. Then he reaches out with his other arm, and does the same thing. He keeps doing that for about three hundred years before he gets tired, and has to take a break. How far did he get? Well, when he first started the sun was over his head, and the water was under his chin, which is still the case, so presumably, he didn’t go anywhere at all. That’s funny, but could also be one hundred percent true. The waves may have even pushed him farther away, which is probably okay, because he doesn’t know where he’s going anyway. Kolby Morse, also known as Guard Number Two, was a lifeguard, and once told Mateo that he knew how to make a lifejacket out of his own pants by tying the legs together, and swinging them over his head to catch and trap air. He didn’t go over the specifics on how to make it work, but this is a better time to try than never.

It takes Mateo several attempts, usually because he’s not happy with how little air he was able to trap, but finally, he has it. Now he can rest. He’s still lost. He’s freezing. But he’s not treading water anymore. For a time, he just stays like that, floating on his back with his eyes closed, and trying to capture as much sunlight as possible. It’s not enough. He has to get as much of his body out of the water as he can. Is that right? That may not be right, because of the wind. Oh my God, how does anyone survive anything! Half of them didn’t. That’s what happens. One person dies trying something, so the next person learns from their mistakes, and does it better. Unfortunately, it’s looking like Mateo is the first one in that allegory. One day, a teleporter with no control over their power is going to be in the same situation, but they’ll do it better, because they’ll hear the tale of this day. They’ll call it...The Downfall of Mateo Matic. Or maybe The Drowning of Mateo Matic. Or, no, how about—what the hell was that?

Is that a breeze underneath him? He swears, it felt like air tickling the shirt under his back. There it is again. He carefully turns his neck, and looks over his pants lifejacket. There’s the water. It’s under him, sure, but he’s in it anymore. He’s hovering over the surface. He’s completely up in the air. He lets go of his pant legs, and looks at his hands. They’re tingling in a way they never have before. Is this...is this true telekinesis? The god who gave him these powers said that they would just allow him to simulate touching things without technically making contact. But whatever magic he used to give him such a limited form of telekinetic powers must also be theoretically capable of real telekinesis. Perhaps that magic is somewhat sentient, and is aware that Mateo is in trouble.

Mateo closes his eyes again, and drops his hands to his sides. He calls upon the spirit of Tony Stark with his rocket hand things, and pushes himself farther away from the water. There’s a learning curve to this flying thing, but he doesn’t go too far up, so if he falls, he’ll land safely in the ocean. He just keeps working at it, and while he never flies like superman, he does make it to an inhabited island, where—after climbing over some language barriers—he manages to learn is not too far from Antarctica, which explains why it’s so damn cold here. A look at the map shows that he’s even pretty close to the region where the Nexus is. Now he just needs a radio.