Microstory 2367: Vacuus, August 28, 2179

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Dear Condor,

I’m not feeling all that well today. I didn’t get much sleep last night, and I think I caught a stomach bug. The doctor has me self-quarantining, which is funny because that’s just how I typically live my daily life anyway. I wanted to respond to you, though, because I received your open letter. I attached the new document with my markups, but you can take them or leave them. If you just sent it to the base how you originally wrote it, it would be fine. I’m not surprised, your letters to me are always very well-written. Overall, I think it looks good. You didn’t say too little, or be too cryptic, but you didn’t overshare either. I would say go for it, if you’re comfortable, but you still have the option of declining the request. It’s not a big deal either way. Though, I do think you should change what you said about people asking questions. I’m willing to take on that role as intermediary. My suggestions are very minor, so it’s up to you whether to accept them. That also goes for whether to even send it or not. I won’t cloud your decision any further. It’s not like people will be mad at me if you decline. Both worlds will keep turning. I feel like I’m repeating myself, and should probably go back to bed. I’m going to be a little bit late with my thoughts on this latest Winfield Files book, but did you notice that we got a few spoilers from the last season of the show? It looks like they jumped a little ahead in the story, which I guess is what happens. The books are only told from the main character’s perspective, but the adaptation has the freedom to explore other people’s perspectives more directly, which has sometimes given us a bit of a sneak peek into what’s to come, before Winfield finds out about it in his own time. I don’t think it’s going to ruin anything, or that we should change our strategy. I just thought I would point it out.

Okay, goodnight,

PS: Are we gonna keep doing PS?

Microstory 2364: Vacuus, August 13, 2179

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Dear Condor,

You’re right, I shouldn’t be so worried about the age thing. We’re both adults. Things are still going really well with Bray. As you know, I’ve told him about myself, in regards to how you and I were separated at birth. I obviously didn’t tell him anything that might even be slightly considered a secret. Like, I never read him any letters, or relayed details that you’ve told me in confidence. This is just how he and I bonded. I guess I should admit that the truth has since come out to the rest of the base since then. I wasn’t bringing it up with others, except for the people I kind of demanded answers from, but the general population has finally found out too. They’re all very curious and interested now. Bray had this idea that maybe you would like to send an open letter to the whole base? That might sound stupid, or be taking it too far. I’m not so sure about it myself. It’s just that most people here don’t have any lasting connection to Earth. Even if they’re old enough to have left an established life behind, their reasons for leaving usually included not having any strong ties. We all knew that it was a one-way trip. Well, I didn’t; I was a tiny little baby. Anyway, they would all like to hear from you, but it’s totally up to you. If you decline the offer, but don’t want them to know as much, I can certainly take the blame for it, claiming that I thought about it some more, and decided that I’m not interested in them knowing anything about my brother. I know that it’s kind of an odd request, but if we aren’t odd, then what are we, right? I feel like I’m doing my rambling thing again, but worse than usual, so I think I’m gonna call it a night. You can disregard everything I’ve said in this letter. I believe that I’m getting less sleep than I used to, now that my social life is a little bit more eventful than it was before Bray.

Goodnight,

Corinthia

Microstory 2350: Vacuus, May 18, 2179

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Dear Condor,

Happy belated birthday! I decided to wait a few days to send you my next letter, so it could be after the party, but you ought to already know that, since I sent you the custom read receipt about it immediately after receiving your last one. This was a really good reason to use that system, so thank you for coming up with it. The party went great on my end. We had food and cake, and everybody was wearing the same thing. That’s right, I decided to pass along your cool, fashionable garment design to all invitees, and encouraged them to print and wear one of the options themselves. The garment fabricator liked them a lot herself, so it was her idea to really lean into the theme. She was there too, along with several other people. I’m sorry if I gave you the impression that I didn’t have anyone to invite, or that I didn’t have any friends in general. We’re in fairly cramped quarters for logistical and practical reasons, so everyone knows pretty much everyone. I don’t like them all, and they don’t all like me, but we get along pretty well. We have to, or it could lead to catastrophe. Animosity does not mix well with a planetary base on an airless world. One person gets mad at another, and decides to open an airlock out of anger, and it’s bye bye half the living people on Vacuus. No, we obviously compartmentalize the sections, but you get what I mean. We place great emphasis on counseling and mental health. So I do have friends. It’s true that I never developed relationships as strong as the ones I sometimes see on TV, but I would still consider them my friends. I don’t know why I’ve never talked about them to you, but they were there, and we had fun. Who else was at yours? We don’t really do much with constellations here, so we’re not all that familiar. We found Libra, and everyone looked at it, trying to figure out why they’re called “the scales”. It wasn’t until someone had the bright idea to turn the image slightly then we were all, like, “ooooohhh. Kinda!” It was fun, though, and I thought of you the whole time. I wish we could have been in the same room. How did it go on your end?

All partied out and not alone,

Corinthia

Microstory 2344: Vacuus, April 2, 2179

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Dear Condor,

That all sounds very dangerous. I’m glad that you’re inside fulltime now. I’ve only ever lived in three places, and never go outside. I grew up on the ship while it was on its way all the way out here, and a little when it was first in orbit around Vacuus. I was eighteen when we arrived, and after some initial surveys, I was part of the first group to drop down to the planet. And I really mean that. We took something called a dropship down to the surface. We lived there for almost two years before they had built enough of the residential base for us to move in there. Back then, we couldn’t launch any ships back into orbit, because it takes too much fuel to do it the traditional way, and the necessary infrastructure for more advanced methods took time to engineer. Now we have something called a launch loop, which—if you don’t know—is like a giant-ass roller coaster that allows us to get into space without expending too much energy, or requiring as much tensile strength as a space elevator would. They’re thinking about building the latter at some point, but it’s going to take a lot more effort and time. Anyway, until we started to be able to travel back and forth relatively cheaply, there were two separate populations. Those who never dropped down to Vacuus lived up there, and had their own kids. We stayed in contact with each other, though, since it was the only place we could talk to which had no significant time delay. I’ve never been back in person, however, while most people I know have gone back at least once. It’s really just little kids who have no had the opportunity yet. My friend who lives up there now has been asking me to take the launch loop into orbit for a visit, and I want to do that, but I also don’t. So much can go wrong. I cannot believe that I used to live on a ship. How did I end up so soft and cowardly? How did you do it? How are you so brave? You don’t have to answer that. This is just my neuroses getting in the way of my goals. I already go to counseling to get this stuff figured out.

Not yet living my best life,

Corinthia

The Advancement of Mateo Matic: February 15, 2399

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“Do you not recognize me?” the stranger asks. “We met once...when you killed my superior officer, and drove me from my home.”

“You’re gonna hafta be more specific,” Leona jokes.

“Rorkele Mast.”

“Is that your name, or your boss’?”

“It was his.” The still unnamed man turns back around and gazes out the window. He was a brilliant tactician, a powerful leader...” He faces her once more. “And someone I was proud to call my friend.”

“Still nothin’.”

“You killed him in a coup for the detachments, along with several other people.”

Leona thought back to that event. They were trying to stop a war, and the people in charge of it weren’t listening to her, so she felt she needed to just steal control from them. Nearly all of them decided to select champions to fight in their stead, and—believing that it would dissuade her from going through with it—chose Leona’s friends. The only person she killed was Mateo, which was fine, because all they had to do was upload his consciousness to Ramses’ lab on their ship, the Suadona. That’s what they did for Angela, Marie, and Olimpia as well. They were all killed by, “Rorkele Mast. He was the original leader of the Dominion Defense Detachment, right. I remember.”

“Yes!” He’s relieved that she finally remembers.

“I didn’t kill him, my husband did, and then I killed my husband.”

“Yes, we were surprised by that, to say the least. Of course, now the survivors know about cloning, consciousness transference, and all that stuff, but it was a harrowing time in our lives. And anyway, we still blame you for this, because you are the one who issued the challenge. Your husband was as much of a victim as my boss.”

“This is what this has all been about?” Leona questions. “You’re here for revenge? You’re just an action movie sequel villain? Oh my God, wake me up when cliché day is over already! He chose to fight. He could have chosen his own champion. He could have chosen you, in fact.”

“Rorkele never asked anyone to do anything he wasn’t willing to do himself.”

“You’re preachin’ to the choir, buckaroo billy. If you’ll recall, I fought for myself as well. I don’t understand why you’re all butthurt about this. If you thought your boss was going to win without question, what did you think the point of any of it was?”

“You still have to follow through,” he reasons.

“It doesn’t matter. He lost.”

“You cheated!”

“How the hell did I cheat?” Leona questions.”

“You uploaded all of your friends to new bodies!”

“So the hell what! Rorkele still died, and nothing would have changed that!”

“Yes, it would. If you hadn’t been capable of switching to new bodies, you wouldn’t have even considered challenging the detachments!”

Leona goes quiet. She’s right, but so is he. This man’s mentor may be alive today if Team Matic had not been able to subvert death in the way that they did. They would not have even considered the challenge as an option. She breathes deeply, and decides to take a page from her late husband’s book. “This is true. I’m genuinely sorry for your loss. I was trying to end a war, and I wasn’t thinking about the collateral damage.”

“That sounded sincere.” He shakes his head. “You continue to surprise me.”

“Friends?” She extends her arm. “Most of my enemies are my friends now.”

He takes her hand, but doesn’t shake. “Not on your life,” he mutters in disgust.

Leona pulls away when something stings her palm, leaving a tiny bloody mark.

He smirks and waves at her, but only to display the pinprick that’s coming out of his ring. “I didn’t want to take any chances. You’re dead, and there’s nothing you can do to stop it. He takes a deep breath, and collapses into his chair. “It’s finally over. You have no idea how hard I worked to get to you. I found out that the time machine in my reality was a bastardized, partially working replica of an incredibly ancient version that was once on what you would call Earth. It was reportedly still there, so I scoured the land, and finally found the Constant. It was there that I met an intelligence aptly named Constance. We hatched a plan that would see her getting whatever it she wants from this world, and me getting my revenge on you. It was tough. There were so many moving parts. But she figured it out, and while it was not without its obstacles and complications, I’m happy to say I’ve finally done it. Did she get what she wanted too?”

“How long do I have?” Leona asks, ignoring his question.

He’s still reveling in his victory. “What? Oh, uh...a day, maybe two.”

“I’m going to survive this.”

He leans forward to place his arms on his desk, and rest his chin upon his knuckles. “Oh, because of the extraction mirror? Yeah, no, that was part of the plan too. You didn’t think I knew about the other Leonas, did you? Nah, we knew you would eventually find yourself in that body, so that’s where we have forced you to stay. The extraction mirror is gone, the loop is over. When you die, your body will jump back to that reality, where you’ll be declared dead on impact. There is no getting out of this.”

“I always get out of it,” Leona argues. “I beat Rorkele, I’ll beat you too.”

He’s still smiling. “In the meantime, why don’t you save your energy?” He presses a button on his phone three times. “My man will take you too your deathbed. Don’t worry, I’m not a savage. It will be a comfortable place to end your life.”

Leona follows the guard who comes into the room to her new quarters. A feast has been prepared for her on a cart. They put everything here, including breakfast, lunch, and dinner foods. They probably just didn’t know what she would like, so they threw it all in so no one would have to come to her door later. She eats a little of almost everything, then goes to sleep.

When she wakes up the next morning, the door is open. It’s not just unlocked, but ajar. Either someone is helping her, or the boss man just doesn’t care. She is sorry for what happened in the Fifth Division, but this guy murdered her immediately after she apologized, so she holds no sympathy for him. She starts to wander around. The last time she was here, she was mostly in the Nexus chamber, so she doesn’t know where she’s going, but who cares? The guards apparently do. Word got around that she doesn’t like to be touched, though, so they escort her back to the top office at gunpoint only.

“How did you get out of your room?” he asks when she arrives.

“I have my ways,” she answers vaguely. “Hello,” she says to a man sitting in one of the guest seats, but her face drops when she sees who it is.

“Yes, I believe you know Summit Ebora,” the boss says gleefully. “You abandoned him at the time machine, and he vowed to assist me in my quest.

Summit had a slight look of embarrassment when they locked eyes, but he replaces it now with an evil grin. “You should have figured out how to take me with you.”

The boss comes around the desk, and places an affectionate hand on Summit’s shoulder. “He’s the one who first gave me information about you. He sparked my curiosity about your whole team.”

Summit places his own hand upon the boss’. “I barely did anything.”

“Oh, don’t be so modest.” The boss goes over to the bar. “Would you like a drink?” she asks Leona. “I have the best bourbon in five realities.”

Summit follows him over to the bar to help make the drinks. He playfully tosses the chain that’s around his neck over the boss’ neck too. Leona assumes that he’s symbolizing their bond.

The boss giggles. “What are you doing?”

That’s when Summit twists around, and holds their backs together. He leans forward, holding the chain away from his own neck, and preventing the boss from doing the same. The victim gasps for air, but he’s running out quickly. Summit continues to lean forward, picking his once-lover up off the ground. His strength increases at the same rate that the boss weakens. In one final motion, Summit drops to his knees, and ends it once and for all.

Leona helps gently turn the both of them to their sides so Summit can remove the chain from his neck. “Why did you do that?” she asks him.

“The war ended, Leona. What you did for my reality worked, and I’ll never be able to thank you enough for that.” He scowls at the dead body. “He was weak and selfish. All he could see was what you did to his mentor. He couldn’t let it go, and I couldn’t stop him. My only option was to stay by his side, and keep him away from you as much as possible. I hoped that it would never come to this.”

“Do you know what he poisoned me with? Is there an antidote?”

He laughs. “I’m not sure if there is an antidote to saline. Maybe...river water?”

She’s confused.

“I’m the one who provided the poison. Trust me, you’re fine. I tested your blood last night, just in case he suspected me of being a mole, and you’re clean.”

“Great. Well, that solves that problem, but do you have a way out of here?”

“I have a way to take back the base, but I’m gonna need your help.”

“Help with what specifically?”

“I need you to bring my mother here,” Summit requests.

“Your mother? Ya know what? Doesn’t matter, if that’s what you need, you got it.”

He leads her into a secret passageway, all the way back down to the bottom of the facility, and into the Nexus chamber. They sneak up to the control room, but no one else is here, so it’s okay. “After a fraction of the DDD army came through, Coronel Zacarias managed to lock the computer. Only one person has the code, and it’s not him. I’m the only one who realized that it must be you. I need you to unlock the system itself, and then I need you to open travel from all addresses, starting with this one.”

Leona accepts the slip of paper that he hands her. “Wait, I recognize this term sequence. This goes to Flindekeldan in the Parallel.”

He nods. “You’ve heard of the Sixth Key, right?” Summit asks rhetorically.

“Yeah...?” she answers anyway.

“I’m the Second Key. My mother is the First.”

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: August 31, 2398

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Leona has been working on this machine for the last fourteen hours straight. She gets bathroom breaks, and someone will bring her whatever she wants to eat from the kitchen—which doesn’t have much variety, because the more supplies come in from Mozambique, the greater the chances that someone will notice that they keep going to random region of Antarctica. It’s not really that she hasn’t been allowed to sleep, but the Coronel doesn’t seem to sleep, so she doesn’t feel she has the right to waste his time. As for the Nexus itself, it doesn’t go anywhere. She can see the so-called map of possible destinations, but there’s nothing on it. The artificial intelligence that runs the network has evidently decided that she doesn’t have the right to go anywhere. Maybe it’s because the Mozambicans are here. Maybe it’s only because one other specific person is nearby. There is no way to understand its motivations. It does not communicate with its users.

“Magnus Matic.”

Startled. “Yeah, I’m up.”

“I apologize for disturbing you,” Coronel Zacarias says. “I was just wondering if you made any progress.”

“Since you asked me ten minutes ago? No.” She’s grumpy.

“It has been an hour and a half,” he corrects. “I was tending to other matters.” He appears not to have interpreted her tone as nasty, even though it was.

Leona looks at her watch. “I’m so sorry.”

“No, I’m sorry. I sometimes forget that people need to sleep. That is why I am not in charge of duty rotations. I do not understand how it feels to work without rest. I was born with a condition that makes it impossible.”

“You were?” she asks, fascinated. “How do you function?”

“Medicine,” he answers, and it doesn’t look like he wants to elaborate.

She nods. “Well, I still can’t do anything. I mean, I can do this.” She dims and raises the lights a few times. “And this.” She presses another button, and the computer beeps.

“What does that beeping mean?”

“No idea, it just happens when I push this button.”

“It is okay. You have gone further than anyone else has. At least you have been able to tell us what it does. Perhaps one day, we shall prove ourselves worthy.”

She frowns. “This thing knows more than you may think. It doesn’t gauge how worthy you are, or your people. It measures the world. It may think you could handle the full power of the machine, but also be aware that it would lead others finding out about it. Heck, it may have nothing to do with Earth at all. If there are other inhabited planets out there, maybe they’re not ready, so there is nothing for you to do but wait.”

Zacarias nods. “Yes. God sees all.”

She sports a half-smile. She wishes that she could help these people. There’s a reason the Nexa are always placed in neutral territory. No single state is more worthy of using it than another. The fairest way to do it—short of the Inventors sending a representative to watch, and later interfere with, the natives—is to let the first group to find it make whatever decisions they will with it. She needs something from them, and she’s afraid that if she doesn’t do more for them, they won’t agree to it. The first time she encountered one of these things was on Tribulation Island, but in The Parallel, she was given the opportunity to learn more from experts who knew so much about them that they were able to manufacture their own at will. They didn’t hand her the operating manual, but they did tell her a few things, such as the fact that they’re all powered by bulk energy. That’s why they don't ever run out, or have to be refueled. It’s all around; you just have to know how to access it. There is something in the guts of the machine that lets it do that, and if she just had a little bit of whatever that is, she might be able to make gloves for her husband, so he can start using his hands again. But how to broach the subject with the Coronel?

Zacarias has moved away from the computer, and is looking at the hand dialer on the wall. “What does this thing do?”

“If you have the code for a destination, you could enter it there.”

“Instead of the computer? Why is that necessary?”

“Redundancy. There’s also a foot dialer in the machine itself, in case a traveler needs to go somewhere alone.”

“These markings? What do they mean?”

Leona wheels back a little so they’re looking at the same thing. “They’re numbers. Zero through F.”

“Base-sixteen,” Zacarias says, smiling widely.

“The civilization that created these must have used a hexadecimal system in their everyday life. That’s just a hypothesis.”

“Have you tried just pressing random numbers? How many digits does each destination require?”

“Any number of digits, and with sixteen choices, repetition allowed, that’s quintillions of permutations.”

Zacarias shrugs. “Well...have you ever tried the first one?”

“The first one, what do you mean?”

He reaches up and presses the glyph that represents zero. Then he presses the ENTER button. Suddenly, the Nexus starts to power up.

She stands up, and looks through the observation window. “Holy crap, I can’t believe that worked!”

“It did?” he asks.

“Come if you’re coming. It’s probably only delayed because it’s been dormant for so long!” Leona races out of the control room, and hops down to the main floor, ignoring both the steps, and the ramp. She jumps down into the transport cavity.

Cheyenne walks in. “Leona, we heard something. What’s going on?”

“Call our friends. We pushed zero!”

Just as Zacarias crosses the threshold, the chamber fills with technicolors, and spirits them both away.

When the light recedes, they find themselves in a gorgeous expanse. There are no walls, and there is no control room. A hand dialer is on a terminal within reach of the cavity. Under them is an endless ocean, and above is a starry sky. A rowboat approaches from the darkness. An individual ties it to a post where the door to the outside of the Nexus chamber would normally be. He or she steps onto the floating platform, and smiles at them. “Welcome to Origin. I am Intentioner Senona Riggur. Congratulations on finding this destination. My guess is that you tried the address on a lark. There are two of you, which means you get two wishes to share. What would you like?”

The Advancement of Mateo Matic: August 30, 2398

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There is a rumor that Earth possesses two Nexa, one of which is hidden on an island in the South Pacific Ocean. If anyone has ever found it, its whereabouts have never made it to Leona. The only one she knows for sure exists is the one in Antarctica, and they only have a rough estimate of where specifically, and that’s just where it is in the main sequence. If it’s anywhere in the Third Rail, it could be just that; anywhere. This is why they weren’t in a big hurry to look for it before. Antarctica is best accessed during its summer months, which begin with October, but even then, it’s better deeper into it. No matter, it’s not like the continent is impossible to traverse in winter, especially not now that The Olimpia has been repaired. Rames managed to equip it with some upgrades, which will allow it to survive under harsher conditions than original specifications ensured.

Marie volunteered to be Mateo’s caretaker. She insisted, since she still feels bad about lying to everybody, and wants to feel useful in a less secret agenty sort of way. He agreed to let her do it without too much reluctance now that there actually is hope in finding a way to let him use his hands again. Cheyenne, meanwhile, has grown tired of sitting around and doing nothing, so she asked to accompany Leona on the Antarctica mission. And of course, wherever Cheyenne goes, so shall Bridgette. Ramses wishes he could be there too, but it’s been decided that one of them had to remain local. The home team might need something invented, fixed, or just explained, so it’s safer to not put all of their smart eggs in one basket.

“I wanted to thank you.” Cheyenne is up with Leona on the bridge, looking at the endless white before them as the Olimpia’s sensors scan the area.

“For letting you come along? No problem. It should be pretty safe.”

“No, I mean for trusting us with everything, and not asking where I came from, or why I need the Insulator of Life.”

“Does your world have the concept innocent until proven guilty?” Leona asks.

“I’ve never heard those exact words, but I think I understand the meaning.”

“You and Bridgette have given us no reason not to trust you, but we have upended your lives. You don’t ever have to tell us where you’re from. We’re used to that being a potential risk. If you’re my daughter from the future, for instance, we shouldn’t know.”

Cheyenne bites her lower lip, and averts her gaze slightly.

Leona doesn’t say anything more about it. The conversation would not have continued anyway. The computer gets a ping.

Bridgette comes down from the back. “I heard a beep. Did we find something?”

“Something is a good word for it,” Leona answers, looking at the datapoint. “We should be coming up on something big in three...two...one. Just over the ridge, they find a manmade structure, built up against the side of a mountain. It looks huge. This should be surprising, but nothing really is to them anymore. They could wake up tomorrow to find the sun has been transformed into a big ball of water, and they wouldn’t even bat an eye. They have seen too much already. It is interesting, though. “This is the most remote region of Antarctica that’s also close to the ocean. Nothing should be here, except for the Nexus. It’s not even populated in the main sequence.”

“Unidentified Flying Aircraft, you have entered a secure area. Please recite your landing codes,” comes a voice on the radio.

“Rule Number Seventeen, when in doubt, be honest.” Leona opens a channel. “Unknown Antarctica base, this is Leona Matic, Captain of the Stateless Private Vehicle Olimpia. We request diplomatic visitor landing authorization. We’re here in search of something known as the Nexus.” She shrugs, hoping they don’t shoot her out of the sky.

There’s a long pause before the voice returns, “authorization granted, please land on the big yellow circle.”

Part of the ground retracts, and reveals the landing pad. Leona instructs the Olimpia to land on it, and as soon as it touches down, the ground begins to lower. It goes down and down and down until reaching the bottom, which is a giant cell. The opening they just came through closes up. People with guns are standing all around them. And by all around them, I mean all around. This cell must be 8,000 cubic meters in volume, but the uniform guards are shoulder to shoulder around the whole perimeter on the other side of the bars. They look highly organized, and well trained.

“What do we do now?” Cheyenne asks.

Leona reaches for the PA system, which she never thought they would ever have to use. “Permission to disembark?”

One of the guards lifts her steady hand from her weapon, and motions them out. The three of them exit the vehicle, and head in that general direction. They all look the same, they can’t even tell which one of them gave them the go-ahead. It doesn’t matter when an old man in a uniform steps into the light. “I am Coronel Zacarias of the Mozambique Naval Fleet. This is my facility, where we research only one thing...the Nexus. How did you hear about it?”

“We’re travelers from a different world. That may get us home.”

Coronel Zacarias regards them with doubt, but he’s willing to entertain them with a leash. He turns to his soldiers. “Open the gate.”

They do as they’re asked without question or hesitation. Leona locks the Olimpia down with her gene-coded remote, and tentatively steps out of the cell. Bridgette and Cheyenne do the same. They begin to follow Zacarias down the passageways, heavily guarded by a dozen of the soldiers, none of whom needed any direction to do this. They apparently just know who has been assigned to their detail, and who must go off and do other things.

“I was this close to shooting you out of the sky,” Zacarias explains on the way. “No one in the world knows that we are here, let alone what we have found. We have been looking for a way to turn the machine on, but have had no luck. That is why I am taking you to it, because if you are telling the truth, you will be able to help us, but if you are lying, nothing will happen, and we will not have to worry. There is a computer in the control room, but it does nothing. We suspect it suffers from a depleted power source, but we have been unable to verify that.”

“I’ll try to help,” Leona replies. They come to a large expanse, like the one where they landed, but instead of a cell in the center, it is the Nexus building. Leona stops. “I should ask you kindly to let my associates remain here, at this distance.”

“Why?” Zacarias questions.

“The Nexus is truly as dangerous as you must suspect it to be, or you would not keep it such a secret. I cannot guarantee what will happen when we walk over there, but I recommend you evacuate the room, and leave only essential personnel.” That’s not really what she’s worried about. The Nexa are alive—or conscious, as it were. They respond differently to different people. She has used them before, and the machine likely knows this. There is a strong chance that it will power up simply by her arrival. She doesn’t want them thinking Bridgette and Cheyenne have anything to do with that.

He scowls just a little. “If this is a trick to overpower my soldiers, I’m afraid you will find yourself severely outmatched.” Zacarias eyes the high walls around them. Turrets line the perimeter. There is no advantage to lowering the number of people over there.”

Leona nods, prompting Zacarias to evacuate most of the scientists. A contingency of four soldiers accompanies them while the other eight escort Cheyenne and Bridgette back out of the great hall. She’s worried about them being separated, but all three of them are at these people’s mercy, whether they’re together, or not. She continues across the floor, and to the Nexus building. They step inside. It looks the same as they always do, but this one has been retrofitted with lights powered from a normal external source. He’s right, nothing turns on for them. They do for her, though. All of the retrofitted lights switch off on their own, only to be replaced by the ones that are built in. They’re not really built-in though, so much as the walls themselves illuminate.

“My Gods,” Zacarias utters in a breathy exclamation. “What did you do?”

“These machines are networked, so they communicate with one another, which means if one recognizes someone, they all do.”

Zacarias can’t stop looking around, even though it’s really just a room with the house lights on. The real interesting stuff is in the control room. “You mean there are others? What do they do?”

“They transport people from one place to the next. You didn’t know that?” A little rude on her part.

He looks at her now, still smiling like a kid in a candy store. “Please. show me.”

Microstory 817: Fly in the Teeth Part II

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Most of us escaped and headed for the nearest airfield, and everything seemed okay. Another group of survivors was getting there just as we were, and we agreed to travel together. It was only while we were in the middle of taking off that we learned they were actually a zombie-worshipping cult, with plans to secure food for their gods. The fact that we were to be that food was not lost on us. We intended to parachute out of the plane, but found only wingsuits, which we weren’t all confident we knew how to use safely. Still, there was no other way, so we quickly put them on, and jumped out of the aircraft. The wingsuits turned out to be specially designed to operate near the plane. They could actually generate their own electromagnetic field, that allowed us to stay in the air indefinitely. The meant we could fly all the way to a safer environment, but stay away from the danger of the fuselage. While we were flying, I began to have this vision of someone trying to kill me with a rifle. I fought him off as best I could, but my only option was to turn the gun back on him, and make him shoot himself. This not only didn’t kill him, but seemed to give him incredible rage, and I suspected his bullets had been laced with some toxic poison. He was delirious, so I was able to trick him into stepping into traffic. I realized only then that this was a flashback of a real experience I had had, that led to the demonic kids who had been chasing me in my truck. I had suppressed the memory. I had done it. I was the one who started the zombie apocalypse.

Our shrinking group of survivors found refuge on a military base that we took over once the zombie cult who had taken up residence there got a fatal dose of their own medicine. As fate would have it, zombies don’t want to be worshipped by their own food. The base was heavily fortified, and well-stocked with provisions, and we were able to ride out the apocalypse there in near complete safety. My zombie pheromone powers increased and changed as time went on. I was never able to fly, but I could jump to incredible distances. And I seemed to be totally invincible. I used my new gifts to venture into the world, so I could report back to my people how things had changed. I found that the apocalypse had played itself out. Zombies needed flesh from the recently deceased. They couldn’t feed on each other, and since they were driven purely by desire, never regulated their hunting habits. In trying to destroy humanity, they had starved to death, and destroyed themselves instead. Still, they couldn’t be removed from the equation completely, apparently. I found another group of survivors, trapped in a former academy. It was surrounded, and ruled, by a horde of zombie-ghosts. They can smell fear, and can’t help but revert to their violent instincts when that fear was present. They can’t actually bite or eat people anymore, since they no longer possess corporeal teeth, but they are capable of affecting the real world in some ways. They can make your life hell if you don’t display an adequate level of confidence. As potentially immortal myself, I have no problem with this, but I feel obligated to help others overcome their insecurities. And so that’s what I do, and why I’m here right now. I can teach you to survive.

Microstory 30: The Job

I had been looking for a job for months, about to run out of unemployment money, when an interesting ad catches my eye in the newspaper that says only, Cool job. I call the phone number listed. An automated voice directs me to an industrial zone. I wander around for a while before settling on a parking garage. Only a handful of cars are scattered throughout, but none of them appear to be in working order. I do notice a semi truck parked neatly in a corner. My instincts compel me to open the side door to the trailer. It smells awful, but still I feel the need to move on. I walk to the back and through the wall of the garage. Using my phone’s screen as a flashlight, I see many doors, but choose the one that feels right. It’s locked, but I see a glimmer on the ground. It’s the key. It opens up to a room with a flickering fluorescent light. I knock on the door on the other side but no one comes. On a lark, I take out a punch card for a sandwich shop rewards program and swipe it through the card reader. The door opens. The next door has a keypad. I punch in my birthdate followed by my social security number. Next to the fourth door is a screen. What looks to be nothing but a random scribble appears on it. For some reason, I associate the image with my right hand thumb and my left hand ring finger. I place them on the screen and wait for it to complete the scan. The fifth room contains dozens of eye scanners. I let my instincts continue driving me, choosing one that seems random to me. It turns out to be the right one. I lean gently towards the microphone in the sixth room and say my name, followed by the code word Madea. The door opens. I find the secret compartments in the seventh, eighth, and ninth sections; providing my spit, skin scrape, and blood sample respectively. I pull the giant helmet from the ceiling in Section Ten and engage the machine. A woman opens the door and leads me into Section Eleven. “How did it go?”

“It didn’t work,” I reply. “No matter what, we cannot erase my memories completely. I always find my way back to the base.”