Microstory 2757: Point of No Return

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Jolanda tries to walk out the door into the empty city, but Rage warns her off, saying that something is still wrong. They must have assembled the puzzle incorrectly. Perhaps it poisoned them and caused them all to lose time, or there’s just something weird going on that none of them can explain.

“I can explain it,” Miracle says as she walks right outside. “We are in a Facsimile.”

“I don’t know what that means.” Rage is in the doorway to protect everyone else.

Miracle rolls her eyes, and waves her arms like she’s parting the Red Sea. “Would you please? I need everyone to see and hear me.” She sighs. “I didn’t know we would encounter time travel on this journey. I thought it was possible, but I guess I gave Hrockas too much credit. I don’t have the time or bandwidth to explain everything, so let’s just go over the basics. Has anyone seen an old show called Stranger Things?”

A few people raise their hands, including Colley.

“There’s an evil world in that show that looks just like ours, except there aren’t any people in it, and it’s horrific. There are all sorts of vines and mold covering everything, and toxic particles float around all the time. Spoiler alert, what they eventually discover is that this copy of the world was created on a particular day in the past, like a snapshot of a single moment. That is basically what this is, but without the horror overtones. Well...there was that one time when zombies and other monsters were fabricated here in secret so they could be let loose on the populace—”

“I remember that,” Zelda jumps in. “I was trying to relax in Mildome when a serial killer from Bloodbourne suddenly attacked. They weren’t too hard to kill, though.”

They all look at her like she’s crazy.

“What? I don’t only spend my time in Adrenadome. I like bees and butterflies.”

“Well,” Miracle continues, “now you know, this is where they came from. I can’t tell you not to worry about lingering monsters, but let’s hope not. The person who controlled them no longer has control over this place. He was sent away. We actually fought alongside each other against a bigger threat, but he never returned. I’m just trying to give you an idea of where we are, and what we’ll find. Any questions so far?”

“Yeah.” Rage raises her hand. “What the hell are you talking about?”

Miracle sighs again. “Hrockas can force me into any substrate he wants, but he can’t stop me from using my powers. Those are based on my neurology, so he would have to kill me to get rid of them.” She squares her shoulders and makes sure that everyone is watching. She disappears, simultaneously reappearing on the ground a few meters away. She screams in agony as she holds her head. “Ah, you son of a bitch, what did you do?” More screaming.

A gargantuan holographic screen resolves in the sky. It’s Hrockas again. “Nuh-uh-uh. No time powers. You think I didn’t plan for that? This world is littered with temporal suppression fields. Good luck turning them all off.” He blinks away.

Elise helps Miracle back to her feet. “Don’t do that again. We get the idea.”

“I’m still not sure I believe it,” Rage reasons. “I can think of four major explanations off the top of my head for what she just did.”

“I have seen people do what she just did before,” Jolanda admits. “I was born on Proxima Doma. Before you ask, I wasn’t on the surface or in low-orbit when it was destroyed, but I did become a refugee. They ferried us to Gatewood where we could choose our final destinations for free. I ultimately opted to transmit my consciousness here, but not before I witnessed a riot that had to be quelled by a bunch of teleporting cops. I don’t think they were faking it. What would have been the point?”

“I’m sorry you went through that.” Minotaur gives Jolanda a hug from the side.

Miracle nods. “The faster-than-light technology some ships use now? Researchers didn’t simply finally figure it out. People like me gave it to them. They had this big meeting in the year 2400 with the, uhh...sort of council. I had nothing to do with it because I’m not on the Shortlist, but there’s a very low chance that your life has not been impacted directly by a time traveler one way or the other, for good or bad.

“Miss Shin, if you were a refugee, you probably spent some time on The Tangent, or at least you saw it. Their artificial gravity was a gift from that council. Hrockas has a number of friends with powers and patterns. A team of them was instrumental in making Castlebourne what it is today, and he continues to employ others. For the most part, they try to keep the tech more conventional, but there are some things normal physics can’t handle.” She gestures at the world around them. “This is proof of that. I’m betting they keep it up and running just in case they ever need it, for times like these.”

“So, what are we facing?” Zelda asks Miracle. “How dangerous is this tech?”

“You’re not actually listening to her,” Rage complains. “We can’t trust her.”

“I’m not trying to be your leader,” Miracle defends. “I’m only giving you the facts. What are we facing? No way to know, but throw your rule book out the window, because it no longer applies. Time travel is a very loose term, and a misnomer. Many who can manipulate spacetime don’t simply move forwards or backwards. Some can turn invisible by basically showing you what’s behind them instead of them. Some can duplicate themselves by pulling from microrealities. Hrockas may only be using this dimension to separate us from gen pop, but he also might be planning to throw temporal obstacles at us. Rage, you can listen to me or not, but if it’s that second option, I have an incredibly unfair advantage, because I’ve seen this stuff before.”

A deafening silence falls, making this city even more a liminal space than it was when they first set foot out here. Miracle could be wrong. The people they saw before might have been volumetric images. Or the dome they were in simply spun around to the other side, which was made to be a replica of this, but never populated. There are other explanations for what happened to them, but on the off-chance that Miracle isn’t mistaken or lying, they have to pay attention to her. Trust, but verify.

Elise stands over by her friend. “Rage is the leader. That’s not changing. Miracle, let’s call you the advisor.” She gestures to her main teammates. “We’ve been working together for weeks, and we know what each other has to offer. We’ve settled into our respective roles, so that can be yours. But until further notice, we must all be in an alliance together. Do you disagree, Miss Brighton?”

Miracle smiles. “I do not. Like I said, I don’t wanna lead. Advisor feels right.”

“Rage?” Elise asks, hoping that the tensions don’t escalate.

“Very well,” Rage decides. “I’ll listen to you, Miracle, but I promise nothing regarding my actions. If I want to make a different call, that’s what I’ll do.”

“Sounds good.” Miracle turns around. “Now. First thing we need to do is check for—” She takes a step forward, and suddenly disappears. A few seconds later, they hear her screaming from the heavens, right before she splats on the ground. “...Time mines.”

Microstory 2755: Please Don’t Hold the Handrail

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Two of Miracle’s guys don’t hesitate for a second. As soon as that door cracks, they’re running right for it. They evidently have no loyalty to their teams. Elise doesn’t know how long they’ve been training together, but she’s not finding it so easy to leave them behind. She didn’t even always want to do this. The only reason she agreed is because of the team. If they’re going to take that from her, what reason does she have to go on? She’ll have to think about this first, and ignore that door in the meantime.

Minotaur jumps out of their seat too. They only manage to intercept the second guy, body-checking him against the wall as the first one slips over the edge right on the other side of the door and plummets to his death. Minotaur stands up and catches their breath. They’re not used to an analog body either. “You’re welcome.”

Miracle stands from her own seat and casually walks towards the lethal exit. She stands before her former teammate as he’s catching his breath too. She slaps him hard.

“I’m sorry, boss. You just talked so much about the prize. He and I started coming up with what it could possibly be. We think it’s unlimited energy credits. We could go anywhere. We could do anything. You know what, I’m not sorry,” he goes on as Miracle spins around and places her back to him. “What did you expect, pulling me out of Bloodbourne like you did? Running for my survival is what I do best. That’s why you—”

Since she turned around, Miracle has been mocking him with her facial expressions, and by mimicking mouth movements with her hand. She suddenly donkey kicks him in the chest, sending him over the edge to fall to his death too. She takes a deep breath, and half a step forward. “Does anyone in this room need me to define the word alliance for you, or are you at least slightly smarter than a panda bear?”

Rage calmly stands now, in just the same way Miracle did before. She approaches her slowly before suddenly jamming her forearm against Miracle’s clavicle and pinning her to the monitor, cracking it. “I know what an alliance is, but I don’t work with killers. You stay out of our way, and we’ll leave you alone too, but if you ever treat any one of my people like you did your own friend, you will wish you had jumped out too. Savvy?”

“Savvy?” Miracle echoes in an accent. “Are ya lost, love? This isn’t Piratedome.”

“Do. You. Understand me?” Rage reiterates, squeezing her chest even harder.

“Ooo, buy me dinner first, and I’ll understand whatever you say, Mistress.”

Rage angrily lets go and turns away from Miracle. She has spoken about this with the team before. It is absolutely crucial for her to temper her anger so her nickname remains firmly ironic, rather than simply not technically accurate. She centers herself with her eyes closed for a moment. “Zel, you’re up. Remember, they know what we’ve done. The tricks you used last time probably won’t work in this place.”

Zelda gets out of her seat and picks the sconce that Elise used to free her up from the floor. “I need silence,” she announces before she drops it into the pit. “Fifty meters.”

“I’m not so sure about that,” Elise determines. There was something wrong about the way the sconce sounded compared to the way the men did. Their shouts actually didn’t sound right from the start, but she initially shrugged it off because she doesn’t know the acoustics of this room, or the pit. Now she suspects they’re vastly different than they appear to be. The void before them might not exist at all.

Elise takes her shirt back off, and uses it as a glove to remove a shard from the monitor that Rage broke. She sets it on the floor, reflective side up. She then gently nudges it towards the blackness to get it in the right place. Once it’s partway into the dark, she pays especially close attention to the way the light bounces off of it at the threshold. She bends down and starts to retie her shoes while she speaks. “A few years ago, I took a course on volumetric emitter placement. These days, an AI will decide where to place them for optimal image projection, so it’s become a lost art, but designers, architects, and engineers used to have to plan it carefully.

“Which of you has seen the movie Thunderbolts*?” Elise asks the whole group.

Colley raises his hand. “It’s a perfect example of combatting historical superhero fatigue in the early to mid-21st century media by actually lowering stakes.”

“Remember the elevator scene?” Elise presses.

“You don’t mean...” Colley begins.

“I need you,” Elise encourages. “You’re the only one who doesn’t need me to say it out loud, which might skew the results for us. Get over here, we’ll be fine.”

Colley walks over to join Elise. “Up or down?” he asks, sighing.

“Sideways,” Elise answers him. She turns him around then turns around too so they’re back to back. “Leading foot is one, trailing foot is two. Ready...one.”

Colley plants his left foot against the wall while Elise plants her right one.

“Now two.” They both step fully off the ground, holding themselves up by applying pressure to the walls with their feet, and each other’s backs. They begin to chimney walk through the darkness. One of them always makes sure their leading foot has something to press up against before the other tries their side. They could always end up with a wider hallway, or some sort of opening that completely destroys their plan, at which point they would have to go back. They can see nothing in this void.

They don’t end up having to go too terribly far, though. After only a couple of meters, they are out of the holographic void, and into the hallway on the other side. A people mover is running at incredible—and incredibly unsafe—speed below them. That’s what it was. The men who were sent over the edge merely fell on this, and they cried bloody murder because they were being suddenly dragged away into the unknown after believing that they were gonna fall to their deaths. This doesn’t explain the sconce, and it doesn’t explain why their friends aren’t responding to their shouts now.

“We’re gonna have to go back,” Colley determines when they give up.

He’s right. The belt is moving far too fast for their puny human legs to carry them the wrong direction to explain it to the others. If they don’t chimney walk back, their friends will assume that they fell to their deaths too. They prepare themselves mentally, call upon a second wind, and make the hard return journey to the chrysalis chamber.

Once they reappear from the void, Jolanda and Minotaur help them get off the walls safely so Elise and Colley can explain the situation. Rage then conceives the plan.

Elise should feel tired, but she’s wired, so she volunteers to be on carrying duty. She and Zelda hold each hunter by the shirt and pants, low to the ground. They toss them into the void from that position, allowing them to fall onto the belt with a far lower center of gravity. It isn’t painless, but those first two guys probably had it much worse.

Finally, only the two of them are left. “How do you wanna do this?” Elise asks.

“I’m strong enough.” Zelda picks Elise up and drops her onto the belt on her own.

As Elise is flying down the hallways on her ass, she looks back to see Zelda surfing on it like a pro. What a total badass. Elise may be falling in love.

Microstory 2673: Verbal Disagreement

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Resi goes back to his hotel room to get some sleep as they will be leaving in the morning. Some of the other Fold Leaders are waiting for him at his door. He unlocks it and lets them in. “I’m sorry this hasn’t turned out how we wanted it to. I was just about to pick up the tablet they gave me to look for a new island for us. If we can get ourselves there, even if it’s not much, I know we can survive. It won’t be Yana, the Bungulans won’t have helped us. The only issue is the boats. We’ll need to steal fishing boats.”

“We already have a plan to steal a boat,” Selda says. “The one that brought us to Anchor Island. It’s more than big enough for all members of House Kutelin.”

“Are you crazy?” Resi speaks quieter, hoping they will too. “Do you have any idea how advanced these people are? They built an elevator...in the sky. You’re not gonna capture a ship of theirs. Even if you did, how long before they just blow you out of the water? Actually, I’m sure they’re more sophisticated than that. They can probably just turn it off remotely, or pilot it somewhere else. You have not thought this through.”

“Yes, we have,” Medenn contends. He makes one tap on his handheld device.

There’s a knock at the door. Vantu, who still fancies himself Resi’s bodyguard, opens it. “It’s Arumay, boss.”

“Let her in, and make sure the door’s closed. How did you get here?” he asks her.

“I was able to find a backdoor into the Bungulan systems,” Arumay begins. “I called a minisub to come pick me up. Yeah, I was a little skeptical, but it obviously worked. I could take control over the whole system from here, maybe even the island. That would be ridiculous, but I think it’s possible.”

“Arumay, have you ever heard of a honeypot?” Resi asks her.

“You think I don’t know what I’m doing,” Arumay complains. “These people are all lovey-dovey, we don’t need money or work to be happy, let’s just fly in a spaceship and smile. They don’t have any network security, because they don’t need it. It would be like your right foot locking the door so your left foot can’t get in. It’s just unnecessary. When they gave us the tech that we use on Yana, they locked us out of their network, but they engaged a connection so you could maintain contact with the rest of our House. That was my way in. Trust me, I’ve not slept this whole time. I’ve been checking for traps and alarms the whole time. The only action I took was calling that minisub.”

“I trust you, Arumay, but we can’t get away with this,” Resi insists.

“Boss, you don’t even know what our actual plan is,” Selda claims.

“There are only two things you would want to do with that boat. You either want to take over Yana, or to take over Anchor Island. Even if we manage to take initial hold over the latter, the Bungulans will fight back and win. But they may leave us alone if we only attack our own people. They’ll just write off that one little boat, and let it go. Am I close? Did I get it? I’m right, aren’t I? It’s okay, you can admit it.”

“Yes, you’re right,” Medenn admits, “but what you described is an idea, not a plan.” He gestures to the group to everyone but Resi. “We have a real plan.”

“I’m not a part of this, sir,” Vantu counters.

“I know you aren’t, Van.”

“Please,” Arumay pleads. “This is bigger than you now, Res. Everyone wants you to remain our leader, but if you don’t listen to the plan, and sign off on it, they will cut you out of it. They will move forward. You gotta meet us halfway.”

Resi looks at her, and then over at the other mini-traitors. “If I refuse?”

Medenn tenses up. One of the ones who hasn’t spoken prepares to hold him back.

“Oh, I see,” Resi realizes. “You won’t let me go. Will you hurt me?”

“No,” Arumay promises. “I won’t let that happen. But they may...detain you.”

Vantu steps a little in front of Resi. He cracks his knuckles. “Try it. I was gonna Kidjum into Enaiyo, but leave the House after a few months to join island security. I’ve been wanting to swing these fists my whole life. Just give me a reason.”

“No, that won’t happen,” Resi tries to mediate. He breathes deliberately, hoping it will be contagious. “Selda, when you chose House Kidjum, did you sign any papers?”

“No. What are you talking about? Was I meant to sign something?”

“Did anybody sign anything?” Resi asks rhetorically. “No? So you just...said out loud that you were House Kutelin. You could have just as easily said you were House Caterpillar, or House Ice Cream. There was nothing official. I asked you where you wanted to go, and you told me. Out of all of us here, and everyone on Yana...hell, everyone in the universe, I am the only member of House Kutelin. I am the only one whose Kidjum told him to join. You’re all only guests. If I kick you out, you’ll be out.”

“We’re still taking the boat,” Medenn assures him.

“That may be, but you won’t be doing it under the Aether banner. You’ll be...unkidjumed at best.” Resi balks at his own words. That’s it. That’s the solution. That’s what Speaker Sherman was going on about. In order to stop the exile, they have to reject the premise in its entirety. He thought he was distancing him and his sister from the traitors, but he’ll really be helping them. He looks down and sighs.

“What?” Arumay questions. “You were building to something, but then you stopped. Even if you kick us all out, we’ll take that boat. We still need a place to live.”

“You already have it. Whether you like it or not,” Resi determines, “you are no longer House Kutelin. You never really were. Only I am. I am the only exile here.”

“You can’t do that,” Selda argues. “You can’t just say that and make it happen. You gave us something we didn’t know we deserved. Now we’re in it. Even if we don’t call ourselves Kutelin anymore, we still aren’t assigned any of the other four Houses.”

“They’ll let you back in,” Resi says, sure of himself. “All they want is Tamboran cohesion. Kutelin was a deviation. You have to reintegrate. It’s the only way. Please don’t commandeer a ship. Zenith was telling me a little bit about themselves. Someone once took a giant spaceship from them, so they’re pretty sore about it. They may not be prone to violence, but they’ll go there if they have to.” He starts to leave. “No. Vantu, you stay here. I’m kicking you out too.”

“Sir. My alliances have not shifted,” Vantu says firmly.

Resi nods. “I can’t tell any of you what to do, but I urge you to Kidjum. Show that they work. Follow the system. I’ve been fighting for a life of hardship. That was foolish. I treated the status quo like a dystopia, but it’s not. It may not be the lovey-dovey paradise the rest of the Core Worlds have, but it was working. Let it work once more. Again, I don’t need your permission to do this. I’m going to Zenith and the Speaker, and explaining my decision.” He turns, and immediately feels a pain in the back of his head. Then everything turns black.

The Advancement of Mateo Matic: August 29, 2542

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During the team’s interim year, the pocket dimension generator belts they left behind explored the galaxy on their own. They did so while holographically invisible, in case the next encounter was with someone less kind than Renata and Quidel. The belt stack was able to visit nearly one new spot a day, for a total of 360 slings. When the stack arrived somewhere new, it had to wait for the coherence gauges to return to the violet. In the meantime, it took that opportunity to scan the region, providing Ramses with the data that he needed to rule out Spiral Station. The majority of the dots on the map were crabitats, but not all. Obviously, they started with the most remote since those were most likely to be what they were looking for. Besides Extremus, there was Verdemus, which created its own outpost around nearby stars. Some people from the Sixth Key had established a presence in this reality, and it didn’t look like they were hurting anyone, so the team decided to leave them be.

Every day, the belts would chip away at the map, gathering enough information to check each dot off. Now that they were back in the timestream, they elected to give the belts a break since the chances of being present when they found their target were low, and they really didn’t feel like going on another adventure. Ramses built them such a nice multidimensional home to live in, they decided to simply relax. The search was probably going to take years, so what was the rush?

Romana slammed her palm on the couch. “Downbeat!”

Everyone giggled. They actually weren’t even playing Downbeat, but trying to contrive the rules to another fictional game called Hassle the Fishmonger.

“No? I didn’t just win?” Romana questioned.

“Not unless you’re holding Mateo’s hand,” Marie suggested.

“Oh, good idea. I’m writing that down as a new rule,” Mateo said before taking his daughter’s hand in his.

They looked at each other before saying, “downbeat!” simultaneously. And then, as if it had been the magic words, the proximity alarm went off. A security feed appeared in front of the doors that led to the simulated backyard. A giant object had appeared before them, the technicolor webbing still fading away.

“Spiral Station,” Leona said, standing up.

“They must have been looking for us while we were looking for them,” Olimpia figured.

Without doing or saying a single thing, the station wrapped itself in bulk energy, and slung away.

“What the hell was the point of that?” Mateo questioned.

“They left something behind.” Ramses was tapping on his tablet. “It could be a bomb. Executing emergency teleportation.”

For about thirty minutes, they waited thousands of kilometers away, but nothing happened. Ramses had dropped a sensor buoy near the gift. It needed time to assess the threat level, but he was quickly confident that it contained no explosive materials. His best guess was that it was some kind of communication device, so they pulled it inside. He set it on the table and pressed the blinking red button. A hologram of Franka appeared behind the table. The sphere itself turned invisible to declutter the image. “Greetings, Team Matic. Word around the membrane is that you’ve been looking for us.”

Mateo stepped forward. “We have.”

“To what end?” Franka asked.

“Our slingdrive system,” Ramses began. “Someone pointed out that it can’t take us absolutely anywhere. It can only travel to a technological establishment, however remote. We were hoping you could fix that.”

“So you used the limitation to build a map of the galaxy, which pinpointed our location, albeit in an unlabeled manner. That’s clever,” Franka acknowledged.

Ramses looked awkwardly at Romana. “I’m not the one who came up with that either.”

“We’re guessing that you don’t have the same restrictions,” Leona said.

“We do not,” Franka admitted.

Dutch suddenly appeared behind her. He waved at the camera. “Hi, guys!”

“Hi, Dutch,” a few of them replied.

“Hi,” Romana said too, but in a very different tone. Not again.

“Okay, I’m talking here,” Franka said to Dutch, shooing him away without too much anger. She looked back at the team. “I’m afraid that bulk tech was my brother’s responsibility. I don’t know if you heard, but he kind of died?”

“We could have mourned together,” Leona argued, “but you abandoned us in the middle of nowhere.”

“You threatened me!” Franka volleyed. “I don’t like to be threatened!”

“Well, I’m sorry, I regret it!” Leona explained. “Which I would have said earlier, but we couldn’t find you!”

“Well, I’m sorry too!” Franka shouted back. “When you have this much power, it’s hard to remember how much normal people matter!”

“Well, okay!” Leona caught her breath. “I’m done with this sphere. You need to come back so we can have a real conversation.”

“I’m afraid we can’t do that,” Franka argued. She then tried to continue.

“We’re busy,” Dutch interrupted again.

“Thanks, Dutch, I got this.” Franka rolled her eyes in a way that suggested she liked having him around to keep the mood light, but it could be a bit much at times. “I brought you this intergalactic communicator so we could stay in contact, but Dutch wasn’t lying. We really are busy. I promise, it’s nothing you wouldn’t approve of, but you have your own destinies to fulfill. You are more boots on the ground, hands-on, street level people. And you...ya know, don’t exist most of the time? We have to stay out of the Milky Way galaxy, because it might cause a severe shift in the balance of power. The people there need to develop as they are for the most part. Project Starseed can’t have—forgive me for using this word—gods saving them all the time. They need people like you...with your limitations, your restrictions...your rules. I bet you’ve been trying to decide where to go. My advice? Go anywhere. Someone there will need you.”

“What about the Oaksent?” Mateo asked her.

“We’ve been monitoring the situation,” Franka told him. “It seems that you were...” She trailed off, and mumbled inaudibly.

“What was that?” Leona pressed. “We can’t hear you. There must be dark matter interference.”

“You were right!” Franka admitted. “The situation was a lot more nuanced than just the hypothetical assassination of one man. They are evidently fixing their own problems. A faction has broken off, and is on its way to go to war with Castlebourne, but it will take them long to get there and find it, and by the time they do, the balance of power will make their efforts fruitless. But instead of it being unfair and easy, the Castlebourners will have done it themselves. Thanks to people like you who made little changes, instead of sweeping decisions. The truth is, mom and dad, I admire you. And we can get to know each other better, but we can’t spend time. Our paths diverged before any of us were even born. One day, we might be able to team up again. I can see the Vellani Ambassador reuniting with the Iman Vellani. I see them working with The Jameela Jamil and Spiral Station. And I see Team Matic at the center of it. But for now, please stay in your corner. They need you, even if they don’t know it.”

“Wait,” Ramses said, worried that Franka was about to log off. “Is there anything you can do about my slingdrives? I know you didn’t design it, but surely Séarlas left behind operator’s manuals.”

“Why would you wanna go where there isn’t anyone else around?” Franka posed.

“I would like the option,” Ramses contended.

Franka sighed, and seemingly considered it. “When you return to the timestream next year, open your little map, and take note of a ping that you didn’t see before. That will be a beacon that I left in a remote region of the galaxy. You can go there for respite. But I’m not granting you access to all of time and space. This is the best I can do.”

“Well...thank you then,” Ramses said, having been hoping for a lot more.

“I better be going,” Franka said.

“Bye!” Dutch jumped back in. “You should go to Be—”

The call was disconnected.

“Well, that was weird,” Mateo said.

“We should try not to think of her as our daughter...because she isn’t,” Leona said to her husband. “She had different parents, who looked like us, and would make a lot of the same decisions as us, but were not us. We didn’t experience that, and we don’t have the right to treat her as family.”

There was an awkward silence, which Olimpia decided to break. “I think I’m gonna take a nap.”

“Yeah, me too,” Angela agreed. “Let’s all take an hour to do whatever we need to do, be that a nap, a talk, or a nice bath.”

Half an hour later, Mateo and Leona were in the former’s room, exhausted from having been talking about their feelings, when the slingdrives powered up. They ran out of their unit, and back into Marie’s. Most of their teammates were doing the same. Angela was fully naked, dripping wet from her shoulders down, and trying to dry herself off with a hand towel. Ramses came out last from his lab. “Who did that?”

“I did.” Romana was walking up the steps from Marie’s basement.

“Where did you bring us?” Leona questioned.

“The only logical place,” Romana answered enigmatically.

“Thālith al Naʽāmāt Bida,” Ramses announced, looking at his device.

“Is this because of what Dutch said at the end of the call?” Mateo asked.

“This is obviously what he meant. Trust me, I looked through the colony catalogs, looking for an alternative, and this was the only place he could have possibly been trying to say before he was so rudely cut off.”

“Yeah, that’s probably true,” Leona agreed, “but that doesn’t mean we had to come here, or that you could make that decision without our input.”

Romana brushed it off. “Ugh, I’m so bored. I can’t take another game of Cones of Dunshire. It’s too thinky thinky.”

“The people who live here...” Leona began, trailing off, not knowing how to word it. “They’re not—oh my God. I don’t know how to put it. From the outside, they basically look like hermits, but instead of crabitats, they live in small pockets on the land and sea. Some do live in rotating cylinders, coins, and hammers, but up in orbit, because they don’t see their relative proximity to be any less isolating on a daily basis. No, that’s not right. They participate in community, but they technically live separately. They utilize technology efficiently, to make it so they don’t have to work. They otherwise worship nature, which makes sense given that this world is a miracle. I’m being really general here, but that’s to give you an idea of how they live. They don’t reject technology, and they don’t hate outsiders, but we probably shouldn’t meddle in their affairs.”

“Hold up,” Marie said. “Romy, you’re the one who sent us to Proxima Doma too. Is this the same thing? Did someone tell you to bring us here?”

“Yeah, Dutch,” Romana reminded them.

“I mean someone other than that. Did you meet a seer, or...?”

“It’s nothing like that,” Romana defended. “No more secrets. This is just our next stop. You don’t have to read anything into it. It’s just...we’re just...Doctor Who.”

“Doctor Who?” Leona asked. “How’s that now?”

“The Doctor doesn’t have to do anything,” Romana reasoned. “Everytime he goes somewhere, he pretty much always knows all the stuff. He’s not seeking out new life and new civilizations. He’s just flying around, and whenever he shows up, he helps whoever happens to be there. The writers gave up on contriving reasons for him to do that. It’s just the premise, and that’s enough. Let’s make that our premise. Let’s check out Bida for a little bit, and when we’re done, we’ll pick somewhere else to go. You don’t have to wait for someone to hand you a mission, should you choose to accept it. That’s what my sister was trying to tell us. She’s not my favorite sister, but it makes sense to me now, and I think I agree with her.”

Leona nodded. “It’s not a bad idea. The problem is that Bida has become almost entirely decentralized. That’s the consequence of extreme advancement in a post-scarcity economy. It’s why people like Linwood Meyers exist. Most aren’t misanthropic, but they lost their reasons to work together. Basically, everything that needed to be done is done. Some people will continue to look for new adventures, and new knowledge, but for a lot, a cabin in the woods is enough. They stand upon Maslow’s Hierarchy of Needs alone because there is not much room at the top of a pyramid. So the people here probably don’t need us, and even if someone does, the chances of you landing us exactly at that settlement, instead of any of the other twenty million plots, are incredibly low.”

Romana held out her hand, but not in friendship. “I’ll take that bet.”

Leona smiled. “What are we betting?”

“If I win—if we’re where we’re supposed to be, helping the right person or people—you make me your navigator. As Captain, you reserve the right to veto, as I trust your judgment and wisdom, but as navigator, I initially choose our mission, every time.”

“And if I win?” Leona asked.

“If you win...you get infinite favors.” Romana seemed confident that she wouldn’t have to worry about the gravity of that offer.

Leona smiled wider now. “Okay.” She shook her daughter’s hand.

By the end of the day, Romana was the team’s navigator. It wasn’t even that hard. She cheated.

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The Advancement of Mateo Matic: August 17, 2530

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Séarlas and Franka were not Mateo and Leona’s children, but Mateo and Leona were their once-parents, and no one knew how to feel about that. A version of the two of them had twins in another timeline, but neither of them had memories of that. This Leona lost her babies in a terrible tragedy on an interplanetary ship that was breaking apart. They didn’t talk about it anymore, and she never said it out loud, but those were her kids, and the only way for her to get through the sadness was to believe that. The living Séarlas and Franka were some of the first people they saw when they started traveling through time, and had anticipated their births for years, only to have that dream pulled away from them. Them being here right now wasn’t some way of getting it back. It was just confusing and uncomfortable. That was why Mateo never pushed for a relationship with Aura or Mario. Neither of them raised him, nor even conceived him. To them, it had never happened, and trying to force a connection was worse than pretending there was nothing there at all, and just trying to be decent friends. The question was, what did these two think? Did they see it the same way?

“We don’t expect hugs from you,” Franka went on after letting the shock of the development run its course for a few moments.

“Hold on.” Ramses materialized some kind of little tool in his hand. “Do you mind?” he asked vaguely, holding it between him and the twins.

“Do what you must,” Franka agreed, pulling up her sleeve, and nodding for her brother to do the same.

Ramses used the tool to extract small samples from them. “I already have your DNA on file,” he said to Mateo and Leona while they waited for about fifteen seconds. It beeped. “I’m seeing a 92% familial match. That would be low confidence for today’s technology, but substrate variance would account for the difference. You two still have the core DNA that you were born with, but I spliced in some extra code.”

“So, they are our genetic children,” Mateo asked to confirm.

“Their bodies are,” Ramses clarified. “I have no idea about their minds. I never did figure out how to build a simpatico detector, not that that’s exactly what we’re after.”

“I see that our tactics have bred distrust between us,” Franka acknowledged.

“Ya think?” Olimpia asked. If these two could be categorized as Mateo and Leona’s kids, she would be their stepmother.

“Why do you think we took so long to introduce ourselves to you?” Pacey—no, Séarlas prompted.

“I’m guessing that you tried to do it earlier in other timelines, but it always went poorly,” Leona figured.

Franka smirked. “Yeah, you definitely get your intelligence from her.”

Mateo looked at Franka. “And you? You got my stupidity?”

Séarlas shook his head disapprovingly. “Your instincts. She got your instincts and intuition. You may not be as educated, and you may not have much interest in improving that, but you are the one who steers the team; not as a leader, but as a compass. Not only can you see a threat a mile away, but you can gauge how much of a threat it will be, and can adjust accordingly. You treated me and Boyd differently than you did Zeferino and Erlendr. You saw goodness in Arcadia when no one else did. Mateo, after Horace Reaver captured you and Leona, and kept you separate, he finally explained why he hated you so much. Do you remember how you reacted?”

“That was so long ago,” Mateo replied.

“You’re being modest,” Séarlas judged, “of course you remember. He told you that an alternate version of you in another timeline made a mistake, which got his wife killed. You have no recollection of that, because you didn’t do it. Yet after his story was over, you apologized. Do you know how few people would respond like that? So no, father, she didn’t get your stupidity. She got your heart.”

“Yes, so much love,” Olimpia jumped in again. “This is a living Rockwell painting.”

“We know things that you don’t,” Franka volleyed. “We’ve seen things.”

“I’ve seen a lot too,” Olimpia defended.

“I mean, our abilities allow us to try out timelines, and choose the best one,” Franka began. “This is not regular time travel where we have to go back to the point of divergence and try again. Time is a crossroads, and we have binoculars.”

“You’re seers?” Angela questioned. Seers were fairly common in their world, but none of them had actually met one in person, or even heard a name. People will just show up unexpectedly and it will be because a seer told them to be there.

Séarlas shook his head again. “Seers typically see one possible future, and if they don’t like it, they find a better one. We can see them all at once, but only from wherever we are when we’re looking. It’s not perfect, before you ask why we’re not all living in a utopia. The metaphorical binoculars only show us so much before things get fuzzy. We can walk down a given road to see further in the future, but once we do, we can’t walk backwards and try a different road. We have to pick the best choice from our perspective, and hope things don’t get worse. Then we end up at a new crossroads, and it starts all over.”

They were all just staring at him. “It’s not a perfect metaphor either,” Franka contended. “None of them really is. Time is a road, time is a river. Time is just all the things that happen.”

“This is a great lesson on temporal mechanics,” Leona said sarcastically, “but I have more questions. When were you gonna introduce yourselves to us, and honestly so, instead of with aliases. Franka, why didn’t you show up pretending to be someone else?”

“It’s like my brother said,” Franka replied, “I’m not intelligent, I’m intuitive. In this day and age, when you meet someone new, you expect them to be smart, and have something to give you. He gave you the slingdrive. I have nothing like that to offer. My job was to tell him what to do, and truthfully, to cultivate our assets.”

“Octavia and Miracle,” Mateo said, nodding. “Anyone else? You got Bhulan in your back pocket? What about my third grade teacher? She on your payroll too?”

“Well...The Overseers,” Séarlas admitted. “That’s thanks to you. We didn’t know where either of them was before.”

“Yeah, we guessed that they were with you,” Marie said, “and the Arborist.”

“It’s not like how Arcadia did it, though,” Franka insisted. “We don’t force or trick people. We don’t...tell them everything either, but they make their own choices.”

“My little intelligence officers,” Leona snarked.

Séarlas tensed up, so Franka placed a hand on his shoulder, and spoke before he could say something that he regretted. “We knew there would be hostility. This is the tough part, and it was always going to be like that because of one mistake we made long ago. I told you about the crossroads. At a real crossroads, you could walk back, and take a different path, but for us, we can’t. We had one single good opportunity to show ourselves to you. It was after our alternate versions died, and some of the initial sting from that had worn off, but before you went off to...be king of Dardius.”

“I wasn’t king.”

Franka went on without responding to that, because it wasn’t the point. “We didn’t know that the babies were going to die. Space is more difficult to see into. It’s hard to explain, but it’s easier with an atmosphere. The point is, it was a tight window, and we missed it. We wanted to know when you were going to come back to the stellar neighborhood from Dardius, and unfortunately, by the time we saw that happen, we had passed our turn. From there, too much was going on, and showing up would have only made things worse. Gatewood, Varkas Reflex, Mateo dies, the rest of the team dies, you disappear into the past, you jump to the Fifth Division, and the Third Rail. I don’t know if you can believe us, but we kept looking for opportunities, and each one was worse than the last. Eventually, we decided that the only way we could have a relationship with our parents was to...”

“Be antagonists,” Leona finished for her.

“We don’t like that word,” Franka said, “but we appreciate your perspective on that. We prefer to see ourselves as tough-love mentors.”

“You’ve been trying to get us to murder someone!” Leona shouted.

“The Oaksent’s future is profoundly clear to us,” Séarlas maintained. “With him, we don’t have binoculars, we have a planet-sized telescope. He has..to die. That’s the only solution. If you’re worried about him becoming a martyr, don’t. His loyalists see him as a god-king. His death alone will shift allegiances for millions. Gods can’t die.”

“Neither can Bronach,” Ramses reasoned, “so what does that make him?”

“The man behind the curtain,” Franka suggested.

“Learning who you are has not changed our position one iota,” Mateo tried to tell his once-children. “If you find a team who is willing and able to do it, we won’t get in your way, but we won’t help either.”

“What if it’s Team Kadiar?” Franka put forth.

It was not a good idea to say that. The twins had hardly looked at Romana since she showed up. It was between them and the parents. She had to respond to this, though. “It won’t be. I don’t care what my mom and dad say, we will interfere if you approach my sisters.” She all but growled.

“Okay, okay,” Marie stepped in. She hadn’t talked much either, but she and her sister were the diplomats. “Romana is right. Team Kadiar is also off limits. They literally crew a diplomacy ship. I won’t have you corrupting them, or even trying to. This has been a tough day. One thing I’ve learned as a counselor is that the breaks are just as important as the talks. We would like a place to retire, and will reconvene in a year. I understand that the anticipation might be difficult for you, but we will only experience less than a day. That time apart will make things easier. I promise you. We have learned a lot—maybe too much already. The human brain, even one designed by Mister Abdulrashid here, needs time to consolidate new information. Does this sound okay to everyone?”

They all agreed to take a break. Mateo had to reframe his thoughts on all this. He hadn’t raised any of his other kids, and in fact, Kivi was born in an entirely different reality, so he didn’t really even conceive her. He still saw her as his child, though admittedly, in a different way than he saw Romana, or even Dubravka. Franka and Séarlas weren’t nothing to him. He didn’t know what they were, but he already knew that they weren’t going to be strangers who he didn’t care about. A good night’s sleep would hopefully help with this. Thank God Marie was here.

There was an Alaskan king bed for Mateo, Leona, and Olimpia to share. The others each had their own rooms with regular king beds. When they woke up the next day, the twins had reportedly skipped over the interim year as well. It could have been a lie to endear them to the team, but even if it was true, it wasn’t exceptionally impactful. It didn’t solve their problems. Probably only one thing could do that, and that was a common enemy. Annoyingly enough, he was right on time. The angry Fifth Divisioner, also known as A.F. had finally found the location of this secret base, having evidently been searching for it since he discovered that Séarlas-slash-Pacey-slash-his nameless engineer had betrayed him. He had a fleet at his fingertips now, and had the space station surrounded. He remotely managed to shut down all systems besides life support and artificial gravity. It was more than that, though, the team’s slingdrive array wasn’t working either. Mateo might have been able to get them out with his dark particles, but he still needed more time to recuperate.

Séarlas sighed. “Goddamn, I wish I hadn’t given that man quintessence technology.”

“Why did you?” Mateo asked.

“You asked us to move on to Plan B for the assassination of Bronach Oaksent? You are Plan B.” He scoffed and shook his head. “A.F. was Plan A.”

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Microstory 2496: Spydome Network

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This is one of those long-term domes, where you can’t quite get the full experience unless you immerse yourself in the setting, and really forget about your old life. You have to shed your past, and become your character, or you’re playing someone else’s game. The premise is that you are a member of a spy agency in one of eleven nations. Your task is to complete missions for your agency, according to whatever your superiors demand of you. Like I said, this is long-term, so you won’t just instantly become a spy. You will start as a trainee, and work your way up. Or you won’t. There’s every chance that you’ll fail. You have to pass the physical and written exams. I’m pretty sure that they’re easier to take than the real ones on Earth, but I’ve never been a real spy before, so I don’t really know. How well you do is entirely up to your own, natural skills. There is no way to know how far any other player gets, because we’re not technically meant to out ourselves to each other, but my boss may be another visitor. I really don’t know. It really doesn’t matter. What you do is up to you as well. Even though you have superiors, you are not a robot, and you are capable of making your own decisions. If you just wanna lounge about your apartment all day everyday, you’ll probably get fired for that, but you won’t get killed. Unless you’ve done enough spying to put you in danger. You’ll probably only get killed if you go out in the field, or as I was saying, if you’re attacked at home by an enemy. Each nation exists under its own dome, and its backstory is as rich and complex as they are in real life. The relationships between these fictional countries are complicated, and ever-changing. If you were to leave and come back 100 years from now, I’m sure alliances will have shifted. One of them might have been blown up in a nuclear war; I dunno. I couldn’t tell you exactly how far the program will let you take this, but it seems like a pretty decent free-for-all. Each might be one of the eleven most heavily populated domes on the planet, as most don’t need to feel quite as lived in as somewhere in the network. But here, you can go anywhere within your bounds, and if you secure a passport to another country, you can go there too. It’s a really interesting experience, and I’ve only been doing it for about a year and a half at this point. Obviously, I’m writing this anonymously, because there’s no reason a competing agency couldn’t use this information against my own. The android intelligences might not understand where a visitor spy got their intel if it came from an out-of-universe source, but they might act on it anyway. There’s a lot you can learn about the countries, and international affairs, from the comfort of your tablet using the prospectus, but to really grasp what it’s like to live here, you’ll have to sign up, and integrate yourself into this new society. You choose your own adventure. I don’t know the psychological ramifications of starting a new life that could potentially be as long as a standard lifetime, but perhaps that’s part of what they’re studying here. I’m sure the results will be fascinating.

Microstory 2492: Mythodome

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This is a very complex dome, and it’s due to the interconnectedness of world mythology. As I’m sure you’re aware, Earth is home to many a myth, which people once believed, or at least found value in the stories that described them. Since there have been so many cultures in our history, these myths often contradict each other. Lots of them, for instance, came up with a god of the sun, but they could never all be true. That’s where this dome takes liberties, because they are all “true” insomuch as they coexist here. There are indeed multiple sun gods, and they operate as a sort of council. Don’t ask me what they do, though, because as I’m sure you’re also aware, this is all made up. In real life, God doesn’t exist, elves don’t exist, trolls don’t exist. This is an immersive world where such creatures and beings have been engineered out of the specifications presented in the various source materials. It can be hard to track. Some myths even contradict themselves, as told by different authors, and diverging translations. So, Mythodome does its best, but the interesting result—which I’ve been trying to drive at this whole time—is that it is more than the sum of its parts. It has spawned a new mythology, which includes that sun-god council I mentioned, and various factional alliances that never existed in the original stories, because they weren’t culturally related. Part of the experience is learning the new story that has come out of this, which could have hypothetically been its own franchise in traditional media, if someone had thought to be quite this comprehensive before. There are different kinds of elves, for instance, because there have been different interpretations in the stories, and these elves are aware of each other, and have developed complicated relationships with each other naturally. That’s my understanding anyway, which is that their dynamics have taken on a life of their own to form this fresh society, and I think they were doing it before any Earthans came to visit. That alone is interesting enough, not just that these mythical creatures can be genetically engineered, but that we end up with unpredictable consequences as a result of so many variables. I’m rambling now, but suffice it to say that it would not be difficult to spend years here. You could even spend an entire lifetime, making your own way, and finding your purpose. Because very little about this place was prewritten. It’s all been developing on its own, and who knows where it will take us next?

Microstory 2467: Tagdome

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This is a funny one. It’s several giant games of tag, each one made up of a lot of other subdivisions of tag. You can come in here with just about any substrate you want, but you’ll be grouped according to strength and speed. We can’t have superstrong mechs barreling through normal organics, now can we? There aren’t too many of what they generally call weight classes, but you stay in your respective sectors, and don’t interact with the others. But you do interact with everyone else in your sector. That sector is further divided into regions, zones, districts, territories, and neighborhoods. I honestly couldn’t tell you how they decide where you’re assigned beyond the weight class for fairness. But whatever it is, the divisions are based upon the modern standardized Dunbar grouping system. Your neighborhood will have 21 people total, which is a fairly normal and manageable number of contestants to contend with. You will ultimately compete with other neighborhoods. Seven neighborhoods makes a territory of 147 people. There are three territories in a district of 441 people, then four districts in each zone of 1,764, and four zones in each region of 7,056 players. Finally, there are seven regions in the whole sector. Sorry if that was confusing, but this game is confusing, by its nature. The best players are the ones who can figure it out. How about gameplay? You play a simple game of tag in your neighborhood for some period of time, based on your sector’s weight class. Higher classes theoretically have more stamina, and can go for longer. Don’t worry about those. Only consider your own. We’ll use the example of a normal organic human sector, which is only expected to play for half an hour. As you play against each other, your points start racking up. The longer you avoid becoming a Pursuer, the more points you end up with, and the longer you are the Pursuer, the more points you lose. At the end of your neighborhood’s allotted time, your points will be tallied up. It’s entirely possible that the entire game only ever had one Pursuer who never managed to catch anybody. That’s okay. They’re always watching you. Some people got closer to being caught than others. There will be leaders on the leaderboard, who will move on to compete at the territory level. The top seven will represent their neighborhood in a game of 49 players and begin to run as a team. Things start getting more complicated here as you can work together to build enough points to open gates to other territories. If you invade them, you can get in on their game as an opposing force, and start taking away their points while making some more of your own. The games get progressively more complicated, with more intricate environments, obstacles, and even vehicles like bikes and cars. Everyone wears special clothing, which color-coordinates the teams and alliances in realtime, but it’s not uncommon to get lost and confused. That’s part of the game, and your intelligence is factored into those weight classes I was telling you about. I know this was less of a review, and more of an overview, but I don’t really want to give you my opinion. I want you to see it for yourself. If you’re not much of a runner, or you don’t feel ready for the competition, there is a spectator component, so you can just check it out to get a better sense of what I’ve been talking about.

Microstory 1760: Ouruana

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Depending on who you ask, Orion and his accessories are composed of eighteen major star systems. These are the ones that make up the shape of the constellation, and aren’t just in the vicinity somewhere. His belt is the most famous component, but he also has a sword, a shield, and a club. As my ancestors were looking up at the stars, they saw these images, and used them to help navigate the world; in particular, the oceans. Their movements were predictable, and reliable. Way back then, they believed that the stars in any given constellation were close to one another, but of course, we now know that they aren’t. Some of  them are a couple hundred light years from our point of origin, which is Earth, and some are well over a thousand. Still, my peoples were reportedly mesmerized by Orion, and saw no reason to not create a relationship amongst the individual stars that are not there naturally. When the Earthans began to spread out to the stars, a special group of colonists decided to focus exclusively on the stars in this one constellation. Now, centuries later, every one of the major systems has been settled, and falls under the rule of the Ouruanan Empire. Not all systems came with terrestrial planets, so in those cases, we built them ourselves. That has been my job for my entire adult life, to help construct an entirely artificial world orbiting π6 Orionis. As a planetscaper—as we’re called—my reward will be my own home on the colony, free of charge, and a steady income for the rest of my life. It won’t be glamorous, but I can find a new job if I want to, and upgrade later. I’m not sure about that yet. I’m a simple man, so I don’t need much, and just the excitement of knowing that I’m partially responsible for the land beneath my feet may be enough for me.

I’m in a stadium of thousands. Our leaders are about to announce if we’re considered done yet. Of course, we’ll continue to build as our population grows, but at some point, they have to decide that we’re officially on a real planet, and not still in the main phase of the process. “Thank you all for coming,” the Foreman begins. “I know you have all been eagerly awaiting the results of our assessment. Can we call this a finished planet, or is there more work to be done? Obviously, the work is never over, so what you’re really asking is, can you retire? I’m pleased to announce that your efforts have not been in vain, and that the main phase is indeed complete.” The crowd cheers, grateful to finally live their lives on a fully constructed world. Most of us probably won’t set one more foot on a spacecraft or space station. We’re ready to breathe an atmosphere held in place by gravity, and swim in the lakes. The Foreman holds up his hand, instructing us to quiet down. “Unfortunately, I’m not sure you’ll want to live here anymore. You can, if you want—it’s your choice—but it’s not going to last you very long. As you know, we are at war with the Taurans. The Emperor is interested in testing a new weapon that his top researchers have devised that is capable of destroying an entire planet in a matter of minutes. Due to the interstellar rules of engagement, we are only allowed to test weapons in our own territory, lest we want to incur the wrath of the Constellation Alliance. They’ve chosen our humble planet as their target. Destruction is scheduled for two years from now. We apologize for the inconvenience.” Two years, huh? That’s more than enough time for me to perfect my orbital defense satellites. If they want to test that weapon, they’ll have to go against me. The Ouranans may be going to war with itself.