Microstory 2499: Outer System

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This is it, baby! This is what we’ve been waiting for! This is why people are colonizing worlds outside of the Stellar Neighborhood. We still have rules, but you could never do what we’re doing. This is decidedly not a dome. It’s the furthest and farthest you can be from a dome while still being in the star system. When I was a kid, there were so many space operas, and regardless of their premise—no matter how peaceful the protagonists wanted to be—space fighting was always, always a thing. Then reality set in. The only way that our civilization was able to develop enough to build the kinds of ships that they use in science fiction is by working together. Well, perhaps the construction of them itself wouldn’t have been slowed down, but the scale of them, and the speed at which we have expanded into the galaxy...that would have been virtually impossible. We had to put our petty conflicts to the side, and move on as a united front. Almost zero ships these days are built with weapons. Eight-year-old me would not have believed it, but really, what the hell do you need a gun for? Everyone around you is a friend. Even Teagarden, which is literally the military capital of the neighborhood, doesn’t make all that many ships. They focus on research and development, and distribution and management of orbital defense systems. I’m not saying that I wish we were at war, but I did kind of hope that I would one day be in a space battle, fighting for justice, and protecting the innocent. Since then, I’ve been getting my kicks through VR, and that’s been great; you can do anything there. But now we have something real. It took years for them to establish a presence in the outer system, but we’re here now, and holy shit, is it fun. You choose your side, and fight in battles, and the best part about it is that you can’t die! Sure, you can blow up, or get shot, but you’ll just come back to life in the nearest respawn station. That is a big rule, by the way; don’t forget it. You are not allowed to damage a respawn station. Fortunately, because space battles are chaotic, and people make mistakes, these things have incredible defensive capabilities. If you even point your weapon towards one, that weapon will just seize up. You won’t get in trouble as long as there is no reason to suspect that you were doing it on purpose. Besides, those are really far away, mostly planetside, so I don’t want to worry you, or nothin’. As far as the fighting itself, I’ve never felt so alive. It’s so immersive, and the story is so believable. They basically came up with a new history, since humanity’s real history never led to any real space wars, and if they did, it would probably be distasteful to trivialize it here. That’s why it works, because unlike games centered on war in the past, we feel so distant from it, since people are no longer dying from genuine conflict. The best part about this scenario is that space is mind-bogglingly big, and even though I’m certain they’ll want to keep the activities in-system, there’s more than enough room to have multiple battles simultaneously, perhaps originating from entirely unrelated backstories. If you’ve ever wanted to fight in base reality without any real consequence—for you, or your opponents—here’s your chance. Don’t waste it. Which side will you choose?

Microstory 2403: Mêléedome

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There are lots of domes dedicated to war, according to the literature. Name a major war from history, there’s probably a dome that recreates the conditions that you can participate in. Some are entirely fiction, and it’s more about the kinds of weapons it features, and the kind of restrictions they have in place. For instance, since humanity progressed beyond most need for war, we never really got space battles. Did anyone else notice that? Fiction is riddled with examples of space wars, and they just don’t happen in real life, even though we’re fully in space now. It’s good, I know, it’s good, but it would be kind of nice to be able to experience what it would have been like, especially free from all real consequences of such war, like death. Sorry, I’m digressing. Castlebourne is rumored to be preparing a fake space war, though it would be several AU from the planet, and as I said, they’re just rumors. Right now, I wanna talk about Mêléedome. I was immediately drawn to the concept. What’s the plan here? What is the structure? There is none. It’s a complete and total free-for-all. You go out there with whatever weapons you managed to get your hands on, and you fight whoever you want. Right now, most of the fighters are NPCs. I mean, with such a low visitor population at this point, it would be boring if they had to rely entirely on us. It can be a little awkward for some, intentionally harming others, even though they don’t feel pain, and you barely do. That’s what’s cool about it; it can hurt a little bit, if that’s what you select in the options. You can’t really die, of course—not for real, anyway—and the pain can’t be agonizing, and you can choose to switch it off in the middle of it, but it’s there. And you can die, in a certain way. How does this work? Well, when you first come to the planet in The Terminal, you’re given a primary substrate, but you can switch to other bodies later. In particular, you can control surrogates. It still feels like you’re there, but these are cheaper and meant to be temporary. You go out there and fight, and if you’re “killed” then your mind just jumps to a new body, and you respawn. It’s a lot of fun. So essentially, you can do whatever you want with no consequences. Even if you do kill another real life visitor, they’ll be fine. I can only speak to my personal experience, but if you’re a fan of chaos, confusion, and utter carnage, this is the dome for you.

The Advancement of Mateo Matic: July 5, 2487

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Alarms were blaring, internal inertial dampeners and artificial gravity generators were faltering, and sparks were flying. Everything was falling apart. They were suffering severe damage from the onslaught of weapons fire. The teleportation field was not designed to handle this much debris all at once. “Who the hell is shooting at us?” Leona shouted.

“No idea, Captain! Sensors are down!” Marie cried back.

“Twenty-eight percent of the objects are crossing the teleportation field!” Angela added. “Some of them are hitting uncomfortably close to the generators themselves!”

“Slingdrive!” Leona questioned.

“Overheated!” Angela replied.

“Reframe engine!”

“Offline!”

“Teleporter drive!”

“Where should we teleport?” Marie asked. “Our sensors are down. We could be jumping deeper into the battlefield.”

“We don’t even know if it’s a battlefield,” Angela noted.

“At least tell me we’re still in full stealth mode,” Leona asked.

“Yes,” Angela confirmed, “but we are taking hits, and whoever is firing might have a predictive algorithm that measures the trajectory of its projectiles, which could lead it to detecting a discrepancy in the final trajectory results.”

That was an insightful answer. The team was learning. Though, it would have been really nice to have Ramses here, or even Mateo with his idea to shoot people with solid holograms.

“Sir?” Marie prompted. “Do you want us to fire back?”

“We purged the hot pocket before we left,” Leona reasoned. “We have nothing to fire.”

“The hits were taking on are recharging it,” Marie explained. “We’re not at full capacity, but we have something.”

Leona shook her head. “Like you said, we don’t have sensors. We would be shooting blind.” She sighed. “Helmets on. I’m gonna shrink us down to model size...lower our surface area.”

“Can we survive that?” Angela asked.

“Ramses tested it in Stoutverse. Helmets on. Where the hell is Olimpia?” As if to answer, the hits suddenly stopped. “What just happened?” Leona asked.

“I did, Captain,” Olimpia replied through comms. “On screen.” The monitor turned itself on. It was fuzzy from the damage, but they could see enough. Olimpia was somewhere else, holding a knife to Bronach Oaksent’s throat. “We got eem.”

“You have nothing,” Bronach contended.

“If that were true,” Olimpia began, “why did you stop firing?”

Bronach didn’t answer.

“He’s got a teleportation block on now,” Olimpia said to Leona. “I don’t know why he didn’t have it activated before, but I can’t escape, and you can’t come get me.”

“What’s your, uhh...endgame here, Pia?” Leona asked.

“You kill me, they’ll kill you seconds later,” Bronach said to Olimpia, surely referring to the crowd of guardsmen standing at the ready behind them.

“I don’t understand,” Leona said, confused. “If you knew we would be here, why would you come yourself? Why not just send an army of redshirts?”

“I didn’t know you would be here,” Bronach clarified. “I was shooting at them.”

“Sensors back online,” Angela announced. The rest of the monitors switched on, giving them the panoramic view of their surroundings. They were indeed in the middle of a battlefield. A fleet of ships were at their port while another was at their starboard. It looked very neat and organized, like a battle formation that the Regulars liked to use during the Revolutionary War. Not very efficient, and too restrained. They were not in any star system, but apparently out in interstellar space somewhere.

“How do you suppose we’re gonna rectify this situation?” Leona asked Bronach.

“Well, I was thinking that your bitch here could put down her knife so I can pick it up, and slit her pretty little throat. Then you could stick your heads between your legs, and kiss your kitties goodbye—”

“That’s enough,” Leona said defiantly. She turned an imaginary dial in the air, which prompted the computer to genuinely mute Bronach’s words. She stood there for a while, staring at her enemy in the eyes. His lips weren’t moving anymore, but that didn’t mean he was finished expressing his vulgar thoughts. She turned to Angela for a private conversation. “Do you know where they are? Which ship, which part of it?”

“It’s the big one that looks like a compensator,” Angela answered. “Specifically, they are in the tip.”

“They have a real viewport to the outside?”

“Yeah, looks like it.”

Leona turned the dial back. “Are you done acting like a child?” she asked him.

“Are you done acting like a—?” he started to respond until Olimpia tightened her grip around his neck. “Yes, I’m done. I don’t know how to resolve this.”

“Olimpia,” Leona said with a raised voice.

“Sir!”

“Remember that show we watched together, with the guy in green tights?”

“Sir?” Olimpia asked, puzzled.

“I pointed out one of the characters, who’s a lot like you.”

Olimpia thought about it. “I think I remember that. Are you asking for me to put on a performance?”

Leona sighed. “Sing your heart out.”

Without letting go of Bronach, Olimpia pulled off the necklace that she used to suppress her echo powers. She screamed towards the screen as loud as she could. It didn’t take long before the feed was disrupted by the noise. The VA’s monitor automatically switched to the next interesting thing that the sensors were picking up. The window on the tip of the phalloship had shattered, and dozens of people were being expelled into the cold vacuum of space. The view narrowed in on Olimpia, who was still holding onto Bronach. They expected all the guardsmen to die, but they were still moving around; not convulsing, but reaching out towards their weapons. Some of them were too far away, but they had backups in their holsters. They weren’t human.

“Shit,” Leona muttered under her breath.

“She needs to let go,” Angela decided. “We don’t want him on our ship. She needs to let go of him, and teleport.”

“She can hear you,” Leona explained, tapping on her comms. “Olimpia. Let him go and teleport back in.”

The guards all had their guns trained on her. Olimpia seemingly managed to disappear just in time before the bullets started flying. They shot up Bronach’s body instead. He apparently was still human.

“Get us out of here,” Leona ordered the twins. She jumped to the infirmary, where Olimpia was already lying down in a medical pod, beginning to convalesce. “Report.”

Olimpia opened her mouth.

“Not you. Computer, report.”

“Patient is suffering from mild hypoxia and minor subcutaneous emphysema. There is also a single gunshot graze just over her left ear. Body temperature is low, but rising. Prognosis: the patient will recover within the hour.”

“You did a brave thing,” Leona said to Olimpia.

“Thanks—thanks—thanks,” Olimpia replied in an echo. She reached up with her necklace to try to put it back on.

Leona gently took it from her. “Just rest. We’ll reattach it once you’re fully recovered.” She felt that Olimpia was distressed and confused. “The scream. It took a lot out of you. That’s why you’re not recovering as fast as you would have. Hopefully you’ll never have to do that again.”

Olimpia nodded, then looked back up towards the ceiling, and closed her eyes.

Leona almost jumped out of her shoes when she saw Tertius walk into the room out of the corner of her eye. “I forgot you were still aboard.”

“I stayed off the bridge,” he began to explain. “I don’t have much experience with this kind of technology. I would just be in the way.”

“It would have been fine had you been there,” Leona said. “But you can stay with her now, let me go back.”

“Aye, Captain.”

Leona returned to the bridge. They were currently traveling at reframe speeds, zigging and zagging to confuse anyone trying to track them, as well as occasionally teleporting to random vectors. “Good strategy. I appreciate you taking over.”

“How’s our girl look?” Marie asked.

Leona tapped her comms off, so Olimpia couldn’t hear. “Not great, but she’ll get through it.”

“We intercepted a transmission,” Angela said. “Bronach’s not dead. I don’t know how he survived, they didn’t give any details, but they’re confident.”

“I’m not surprised,” Leona responded. “I shouldn’t expect it to be that easy. Maybe he has an upgraded body too, or persistent consciousness backup, or some other wacky contingency. Right now, we have to focus on finding Mirage.”

“I made contact, but I think we should hold off on a rendezvous,” Marie explained. “I suggest we intentionally destabilize attitude control for half an hour, and vacillate the power conduits to appear derelict. If we’ve been tracked, I don’t want us to lead them to Mirage’s location.”

“Another good idea,” Leona said. “I don’t think y’all need a captain anymore. Computer, can you do as she said?”

“Randomizing maneuvering thruster activations, and power distribution systems now.”

While they were waiting, Olimpia continued to recover, and Leona looked over the diagnostics for the slingdrive to make sure that it was recharging, and going through the proper automated maintenance procedures. Ramses had installed a coherence gauge, which measured the drive’s readiness factors, boiling them down to a color-coded scale. Red meant that it was too early to make another safe jump. Violet meant that it was fully charged, stable, and ready to go. He warned against using it again until it was at least in Green. Right now, it was still on Orange, so it was likely at least a couple of hours from being ready. Leona also finally realized that it was July 5, 2487. They had jumped a year into the future. The navigation system was not calibrating correctly, so Ramses would have to look at it again. They had to get back to Castlebourne first, though, which might be a bit of an issue. A ship was on approach.

Leona jumped back from the engineering section. “Have they announced themselves?”

“No, sir,” Angela replied. “Should we open a channel?”

Leona watched the main monitor. The VA was spinning—supposedly out of control—but the computer was compensating for this, and keeping the image of the other ship straight. “No. If they think we’re derelict, we want them to keep thinking that. We’ll only react if they send a message, or launch a salvage team. I’m not sure if the people in the Goldilocks Corridor do that.”

“They might shoot us out of the sky,” Angela said. “They’re powering weapons.”

“Ready the hot pocket, but keep all available power queued to plasma shields.”

“We have plasma shields now?” Marie asked. “That wasn’t in the lessons.”

“They’re untested, and a huge power drain,” Leona said to her. “But they’ll stop pretty much anything. The EM deflector array isn’t as effective, and the teleporter field only works with projectiles. But yes, we technically have all three now.”

“Why aren’t they firing?” Marie questioned.

“The  guns aren’t pointed towards us,” Angela said as she was looking at the screen. “They’re pointed at nothing. Maybe they need to occasionally purge too, like our hot pocket?”

“Wouldn’t explain why they don’t just kill two birds with one stone, and use it against us,” Marie offered.

“They’re firing,” Angela said.

They were indeed projectiles; missiles, to be exact. Two of them flew off in the same general direction for no apparent reason. Suddenly, though, another ship appeared, right in their path. They had no time to react before the missiles struck the hull simultaneously, and all but vaporized them.

“Vellani Ambassador, this is Captain Mirage Matic of the Enlister. We know you’re playing opossum. Please respond.”

Leona just nodded at Marie, who opened the channel for her. “Mirage, it’s good to hear from you. This is Leona.”

“Welcome back, stepmom,” Mirage said with humor in her voice.

“Restore normal operations,” Leona ordered the twins. “Mirage, we would like to negotiate a new conflict tactic, if you’re up for it,” she said into the mic.

“Allow me on board, and I’ll teleport right quick.”

Leona nodded again. “Direct her jump to Delegation Hall, please.” She jumped over there herself, just before Mirage showed up. They shook hands. “Where’s Niobe?”

“Still on the Enlister,” Mirage answered. She looked around. “I’ve been scanning your systems. You’ve made some upgrades.”

“I hope that’s okay.”

“This here ship is yourn now. I heard about the Rock Meetings. Nice to know you’re using it for diplomacy, as was its original premise.”

“Yes, and we would like to keep using it for nonviolent purposes, though not necessarily diplomatic discussions. Before we talk about that, I have a more pressing question. We killed Bronach Oaksent, but he survived. Do you have intel on that? Is he posthuman?”

Mirage laughed. “No. He has the Philosopher’s Stone.”

Leona tilted her chin. “As in...Nicholas Flammel?”

“As in the dome of the Insulator of Life.”

“That’s where that is,” Leona whispered. “It’s powerful enough on its own?”

“The Philosopher’s Stone is more powerful on its own. There are four main components of the Insulator: the actual insulator, the revitalizer, the primary memory chamber, and the regulator. The first one is the exterior of the glass itself, so the dome contains part of it—enough of it to maintain someone’s life under certain circumstances. The rest of the dome is the revitalizer, as well as temporary memory storage. When all four components are combined, the regulator prevents the revitalizer from generating a new substrate for someone in storage. That’s why you have to transfer someone’s consciousness into a clone, or an android, or whatever.”

“So without the regulator, the stone can just make a new body.”

“It’s not that it can, it’s that it will. There’s no way to control it. It’s like a computer without I/Os. I think it takes a few days, but it will do it whether you want it to or not.”

“So he’s effectively immortal, as long as he has the stone in his possession.”

“There’s a downside,” Mirage goes on. “Once it resurrects you, you’re bonded to it. You’re the only one who can use it until this bond subsides. If someone else uses it, you will experience their damage. So in this case, it’s bonded to the Oaksent. If, say, his lieutenant takes possession, and gets a cut on his arm, a cut will appear on Oaksent’s arm. If he breaks his leg, he breaks Oaksent’s leg.”

“And if he dies?” Leona proposed.

“If the lieutenant dies, he basically steals Oaksent’s life. Oaksent will die for good, the lieutenant will live again. But then he has to keep it protected until his own bond fades.”

“How long does that take?”

“I’ve never seen it firsthand, but I believe months; maybe a year. I think the time gets extended when you keep using it. So if you cut your own arm every day, the bond will never dissipate. I’m not sure why you would want that as I consider it a bug, not a feature, but I dunno.”

Leona stared into space, and nodded. “I don’t wanna kill anyone, but...”

“I know. Is that why you’re here?” Mirage asked. “Is this a reluctant assassination attempt?”

“What?” She came out of her trance. “Oh, no. It’s a rescue mission. Rather, a rescue operation. I’d like to see you captain this ship once more...for a new crew.”

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Microstory 2274: Thanks Again

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Nick is awake, and already improving. It will be a constant battle for the rest of his days, but as long as he takes care of himself, and is diligent about his medicine, he should lead a pretty normal and long life. He will always be a transplant recipient, but that won’t be all that defines him forever. Right now, they’re focusing on determining the best cocktail of anti-rejection medication, and also pain management. He doesn’t like narcotics, so that’s really limiting for him. He’s doing a lot of breathing exercises to cope with the pain holistically. Overall, there is not much that I can say so far. We’re very optimistic about his recovery, but there are no guarantees. It’s going to take work, patience, and the aid of a great hospital team. I would like to once again the donors who selflessly gave my friend what he needed to survive, live, and thrive. We still don’t know who you are, but if you give us a chance, we’ll be able to thank you in person. To everyone else, thank you for all of your continued support in these desperate times. Another CauseTogether campaign sprung up to pay for the new medical bills. He doesn’t need it this time either, so we’re just going to turn right around, and donate it to another cause; perhaps to survivors of trafficking, or something along those lines. Oh, I’m typing this up in his room while he’s trying to sleep, so I’m gonna stop here for now. Thanks again!

The Advancement of Mateo Matic: June 2, 2454

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Ramses’ new bulk portal detection device was not ready by the time the team’s day ran out. He was able to program his AI to do some things during their interim year, but there was still some work left when they returned in 2454. While he was focused on that, the Primus asked Leona to exercise her diplomacy muscles for them.

“I don’t have any significant diplomacy experience,” Leona tried to explain.

“Is that not what your ship is for? It’s called the Ambassador,” Primus Mihajlović pointed out.

“That was how it was designed,” Leona went on, “and that’s how it was used recently, but my team and I aren’t on it because that’s our job. We just sort of lucked into possession of it. Whoever you’ve been using for your diplomacy with the Ochivari prisoners of war are better equipped than I.”

“We would be grateful,” Kineret began, “if you would at least try. We’re getting nowhere with the prisoners. We’ve passed laws in recent years that forbid us from detaining extraterrestrial POWs for longer than four months. We actually watched a lot of Ochivari die after we placed them in a communal area of the facility to let them attempt to return home on their own. Fortunately, Carlin has been here to prevent the bloodshed, but we’re running out of time. We’ve not been able to capture anyone recently, so this could be our last chance to get answers for  a while.”

Leona nodded respectfully. “I’ll have Angela or Marie see what they can do.” She turned around to look for the Walton sisters when she saw her husband. “What is it?”

“Nothing, I’m just standing here,” he replied.

“I know all your faces, Matt. You’re yearning for something. Do you think you should run this interrogation instead?”

“Absolutely not. It has nothing to do with that. We’ll talk later, in private.”

“If there’s something I need to know...” the Primus said.

“It really has nothing to do with it,” he assured her. “It’s personal. My mind is distracted. Go do your thing,” he said to Leona. “I’ll see ya tonight.”

They shared a couple pecks on the cheek, then went their separate ways. Leona and Angela teleported a few thousand kilometers away to a particularly cold region of the planet, which they would have referred to as the Northwest Territories. There was no name for it here. It was just the Subarctic North. This was where all of the Ochivari prisoners were being held, as far from civilization as possible, to protect the humans from them. They also discovered that Ochivari didn’t like the cold. They didn’t wither and die from it like a movie monster, but they were very uncomfortable anywhere outside of their climate controlled cells, so there was less danger of them trying to escape. Of course, they had to keep each prisoner separately, or they would be able to transport each other to a different universe. This would always result in some fraction of the travelers dying, but this was a risk that they were used to taking, so the humans had to take measures to stop it. Unless the time limit was reached. They had passed similar laws when it was just themselves on this Earth over the centuries, and as angry as they were about the alien invasion, the populace felt obligated to maintain some sense of their own integrity, and to treat their prisoners of war with care and dignity. The Ochivari still had rights, even if they would not extend the same courtesy to the humans.

Primus Mihajlović, who asked the team to call her Naraschone in person, but her title in the company of others, called ahead to let the prison know that two consultants would be arriving to speak with the prisoners. The guards let them in, and directed them to the underground cells. This place was powered by a thermonuclear generator, so it was self-sustainable, and mostly cut off from the rest of the world, for security purposes. The people who worked here lived in a nearby once-abandoned, but now revitalized, formerly indigenous village. For the most part, the only travel that occurred to this location was to drop off new prisoners, or to fly away from having just dropped off prisoners. They even grew their own food in aquaponic towers, further cementing themselves as a stable isolate. So they were very excited to see the new faces. Some of them were a little too excited, but Angela and Leona didn’t let it bother them, because it was understandable given their circumstances.

“I’ll just be right outside,” the guard said, closing the door behind them.

A polycarbonate window was installed in the middle of the room. On the other side was an Ochivar who was already sitting at his table up against the window, ready to talk. He was reportedly just as closed off about their motivations, and other details regarding their culture, but he was less nasty to the humans than his compatriots were. “Who the hell are you?”

“You don’t already know who we are?” Leona asked, pulling Angela’s seat out, and then sitting down next to her.

“No. Should I?”

They were famous in some circles, but not his, unless he was just playing it close to the vest. “We are not from this world. We hail from Salmonverse.”

Ochivari looked different, so their microexpressions would be hard to read without more exposure, yet it was apparent that he recognized the name. He tried not to let this on. “Okay.”

Angela met Leona’s eyes, and nodded. She would begin to lead the conversation. “What’s your name?”

“Nilstedd,” he answered courteously.

“What was the name of the man you killed when crossing over into this world?”

He hesitated with this one, likely surprised that she would show interest in such information. “Kuhsakego.”

“Were you two close?”

He hesitated here too, but less so, wanting to maintain what little power he had left here. “We trained up together. We always knew that we would be wing-locked one day. They discouraged us from becoming friendly for this reason.”

“Were you in love?” Angela asked.

“It wasn’t like that,” Nilstedd answered.

She believed him. “But you did care for him, and you regret his passing.”

“It is our way.” He averted his gaze, suggesting that he did not agree with his own statement. “It is the only way.”

That wasn’t true, but Angela wasn’t there yet. “We’ve noticed something. Well, others have noticed it, and relayed it to us. We have not met enough Ochivari to have any impression in this regard, but it’s become known that you are all men. Are you a single sex species?”

“Of course not. Our mating rituals are more complex than you could ever understand.”

“Where are all the women?”

He scoffed.

“They must be weak,” Angela said dismissively, trying to get a rise out of him.

“They are not weak. They are just too important!” he argued.

“So it’s just about propagating the species,” Angela guessed. “They stay out of the fight, so they can make more fighters.”

“I shall say nothing more of it.” He turned away even more.

“Have you heard of the Krekel?” she asked him.

He appeared determined to stop revealing information to them, but he couldn’t help but react to this. He spit on the far end of his table, as close to Angela’s as he could without phase-shifting it through the barrier.

“They’re like the Tok’ra, who are technically also Goa’uld, but not evil. That’s all they are; those who made different choices.” She shrugged. “You’re Krekel.”

“No, I am not.”

“You can be,” she reasoned. “You can escape your cell whenever you want. Krekel can travel alone.”

Nilstedd crossed his arms defiantly. “They’re lying.”

“I don’t think so.”

“Did you ever see them do it?” he questioned.

“My father was a slaveowner,” Angela suddenly said. “I grew up with massive trust issues. I had to work really hard to get over them. The Krekel told me that they can wingsing their way through portals. It’s not a trick, it’s not a lie. It’s true. I’ve been sent here to tease information from you, but if you escaped right here, right now, I wouldn’t stop you. I encourage it.”

He didn’t say anything.

“Music. Music is a language of love. For you to do what you do, and survive, you have to develop contempt from your partner, not because of its inherent value, but because of what you were saying. To lose someone you love; for him to die by your hands—or wings, as it were—would be a burden that you could not bear if you let yourself care about him. So you suppress all love, to protect yourself from disappointment, loss, and loneliness. Music brings us together. The way the Krekel I met described it, you can open a portal by focusing your energy on breaking free from the world that you’re on, while they open one by focusing on where they want to go. They seek connection, while you seek escape. That’s why it kills you.”

“I would sure like to read the scientific paper where you’re getting all this brilliant insight,” he volleyed.

She smiled. “I can’t. I briefly looked over the laws relevant to this war. The locals aren’t allowed to study how you operate. It’s illegal, because it’s unethical. They can’t encourage you to kill each other. So no, I don’t know that much about how your wing battle thing works, but I know that it’s not pleasant. If it were, Kuhsakego would be in the cell next to you.”

“What are you trying to do here,” Nilstedd demanded to know, “get me to turn on my own people?”

“No,” Angela answered sincerely. “I’m just trying to get you to tell me why you’re here at all. What’s so special about this world? It’s just another Earth. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t want you to sterilize everyone, but why haven’t you yet? Why are you fighting in the first place?”

He appeared to laugh. “Look around, human. Do you know what the global temperature is? Do you see how much pollution there is in the air? The oceans? Do you know how many unevolved species have gone extinct? Does it have a stable ozone layer? Are these people barreling down a path towards their own self-destruction?”

“No,” Leona answered in Angela’s stead. “They’re fine. The environment is fine. So why are you here?”

Nilstedd was watching Angela during Leona’s response, but he turned his head now. “We’re not here to end the human race in this universe. We’re here to train.”

“To train for what?”

“For you,” he answered simply.

“Me specifically, errr...?”

“People like you, who travel the bulk, causing trouble for us. You can’t combat sterilization in kind. You fight us with guns, and other weapons. We need to know how to fight back, to protect our interests. So we found a universe that’s just advanced enough to give us a real challenge while being primitive enough to not absolutely decimate our forces.”

“These are field tests?” Leona questioned, horrified. “You don’t actually have anything against these people? By your own definition, they’re innocent, and you’re killing them anyway?”

He shrugged. “Orders are orders. Some were sent in ships, others were sent to test out various infiltration and subterfuge techniques. That’s why some of the people we dispatched are human.”

Leona had to actively hold Angela in place when she stood up to teleport away. “No. We can’t tell anyone what he just said.”

“Why not?”

“Come with me,” Leona ordered. She took Angela by the hand, and transported them both to the Gobi Desert.

“They have a right to know that some of the people they’re looking for will look human, and not Ochivari,” Angela argued.

“The right people have a right to know, but we have to be careful about this. Think about it, Ange. Right now, their enemy is obvious; unmistakable. If they have to be on the lookout for enemies who look just like them, they’ll find ‘em, whether they’re real or not. Neighbors will turn on neighbors. People will become suspicious of their children’s teachers. Constituents will lose trust in their leadership, and the entire civilization will crumble to dust. In my day, some conspiracy theorists believed that the government was run by lizard people. They once tried to attack a military base, convinced that aliens were being housed there. Imagine how bad it would get if this kind of stuff were true!”

Angela sighed. “You’re right. This situation requires finesse and tact. I don’t know if we’re up for the job. It puts us in an awkward situation too. We’re invaders, from another universe. What makes our team different? Why should they trust us?”

“There’s another option, but it will be neither safe nor easy. I got the idea just as Olimpia was rescuing us from the kasma. Perhaps the only way to protect this Earth is to seal it up tight. Now more than ever, we would have to return to where we came from.” If the answer was in Salmonverse or Fort Underhill, then they needed to get back to find it, not only because that was their home. Their enemy would want something in return—probably their deaths—but there was no reason to fret over it now. Priorities.

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The Advancement of Mateo Matic: June 1, 2453

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The team transported the Sixth Key delegates, the Primus, and her assistant to the Executive Bunker on the other side of the world. From there, they watched the battle that the Transit and the Cormanu were fighting against the onslaught of Ochivari ships. The local squadrons watched from orbit, but did not participate. The public watched as well through minimal satellite feeds, though most of the cameras that were pointed  away from Earth were limited to military and governmental use. After only about fifteen minutes of the shooting, they all disappeared through a technicolor portal. No friend or foe was left on the battlefield. The theory was that the Transit was trying to spare the locals by moving the fighting to another universe, but it could have just as easily been more like the other way around. No one sent them a message, and when the team returned a year later, they still hadn’t heard from anyone, but a lot had changed. Carlin was now a folk hero.

In all this time, they never got a chance to find out what his time powers were, which appeared to run in the family. Apparently, he was kind of like a walking homestone, but with fewer limitations. He could send anyone back to any point in their life just after they departed from that moment using teleportation or time travel; not only the first instance. He was able to return all of the delegates to where they were when the Tree of Life first pulled them to the nucleus. Leona respectfully asked why he didn’t do that before, and he said that he wasn’t certain of the extent of his abilities. He didn’t know that he could relapse across universes, but Thack was able to check to make sure that everyone was back to where they belonged as if they had never left.

“Are you sure you want to use that word?” Mateo asked.

“I like it,” Carlin insisted.

“Well, it’s just that it has negative—”

“I understand. I like it,” he repeated.

“Okay.”

“I could relapse you too,” Carlin offered, “now that I know that I can even do it from all the way out here.”

“Can you do it to yourself?” Mateo asked him.

“No.”

“Then it’s a no for me too. We’re not gonna leave you behind. Though, perhaps Thack would like to go home?”

“She says that she must remain here for a certain amount of time,” Carlin explained. “I offer a way out to her every day.”

“Does it drain you of energy, doing what you do?” Mateo went on.

“It’s invigorating,” Carlin revealed. Even though the orbital battle last year was fought against an armada of ships, it wasn’t like they were the only Ochivari in the universe. More kept coming through smaller breaches on the surface of this planet. Whenever a new arrival was detected, the government would fly Carlin to that location to have him dispatch of the threat. They actually gave him a special hypersonic jet to accomplish this. He might need to travel anywhere in the world to complete his missions, and he was beloved by all for his efforts. Many were coming out of the bunkers, and trying to return to their normal lives as a result. Though, the government wasn’t sure whether that was the right call. One thing that helped them know when an Ochivar had snuck in was because there were fewer humans around for them to blend in with. They had yet to figure out how to detect the portals themselves, and were hoping that the team could help them. “I love all the sudden travel, though I know that the natives are hoping that you can make that simpler.”

“Are you up for that?” Leona asked Ramses.

“What, me? Of course, why wouldn’t I be?”

“Well, you almost died from equilibrium exposure,” she reminded him.

“Well, I had to test what it was like to be exposed in the equilibrium,” Ramses explained. “And now I know...it’s worse than a vacuum.”

“Next time, wear a helmet,” Leona suggested.

“Aye aye, Captain.” He was trying to keep it light, but Leona wanted to be a little more serious, so he nodded, and added, “I really will. I need to get the Ambassador back up to the surface, and re-embigify it, so I can start working on the detector in my lab.”

“Go ahead,” she allowed.

“I’ll go with you,” Angela offered. They both jumped away.

Soon after they were gone, Thack Natalie Collins entered the room. They were in the executive bunker situation room, where the military usually planned and led the war efforts. It was originally designed to support the continuity of government in the event of a total collapse of civilization, which hadn’t happened yet. However, they were always on the cusp of complete failure, which was why most of Primus Mihajlović’s supporters kept begging recently for her to begin operating out of here fulltime. The second major tactical  assault was all the reason they needed to basically force her to finally accept that, so she and Kineret had been down here for the last year, as was Thack, who was presently serving as a cultural advisor. “Welcome back to reality.”

“We weren’t sure that we would jump at all,” Leona told her. “Being in other universes makes it complicated.”

“I wouldn’t know anything about that,” Thack claimed.

“Would you know about the Transit, and the Cormanu?” Mateo pressed. “Where did they go when they left here?”

Thack smiled in a way that made it seem like she was about to school them on the subject. “Psychic abilities are interesting. For the most part, we’re not talking about knowing things without learning them, though that’s definitely part of it. The majority of psychics are limited by their connection to others. That’s what it is; the links that bind us together. Now, you would think that this means I should be able to find our friends wherever they are, especially since I have formed close personal relationships with the Hawthornes, however, I believe that they have traveled beyond my scope. They have gone to a universe where no one else lives. Yes, I’m connected to the people that I already know, but not to anyone else there, because they don’t exist. You’ve been to a handful of branes yourselves, and you’ve always found people to already be living there, such as the one we’re in right now. But most aren’t like that. Most are dead, or lifeless anyway. In the infinity, I think most can’t even harbor life at all, meaning that you can’t go to them, or you’ll just straight up die. I can tell you for a fact that our friends did not end up in one of those extreme scenarios, because I see their futures. But there are plenty of others out there where life is safe, but never evolved. And again, I can’t see them. If you were in the middle of a fight with the Ochivari, you would probably try to go to one of these places, so the conflict did not endanger the lives of innocents.”

“I would if I could, yes,” Mateo agreed. “But just to clarify, you can’t watch them remotely, even when you concentrate, and you can’t guess when they’ll return, if ever?”

Thack shook her head. “I’m saying that I don’t know where they went when they left,” she explained, quite careful with her language. It probably wasn’t safe for them to know too much about the future. She faced Carlin. “Mister McIver, I will be leaving today. Please prepare to relapse me back to Voldisilaverse.”

“I’m ready, we can go right now,” Carlin replied.

“No, no. Mister Abdulrashid needs time to build his little device. When we’ll go, he’ll take measurements of the bulk energy that you’ll be tapping into. That data will be vital for the goal of detecting arrivals as they happen.”

The Primus walked into the room with Kineret, having heard enough from the hallway. “Will we ever be able to predict them, so we can dispatch a team ahead of time? We’re always worried that some remain...somewhere.”

“I wouldn’t know anything about that,” Thack repeated herself from earlier.

Naraschone seemed to be used to having to allow Thack her secrets. “Anyway, the military requires this room for a battle exercise for one of their new fighter jets.”

This was where the team happened to be last year when their proverbial hourglass ran out, and they were sent forward in time a year. They weren’t entirely sure when it would happen, since their original pattern was tied to midnight central in Salmonverse. This was a version of Earth, and the bunker was located in Colorado, so their best guess was that it would be the same, using the local time zone borders, but it happened at 22:00 instead, when it was only 23:00 in Kansas. They did not know why.

“We were just leaving,” Thack said respectfully.

As they were exiting, Mateo pulled Thack aside since this was evidently his last time to talk to her. “When I was being possessed by Amber and Sanaa, two others managed to sneak into my mind. One was Meredarchos, I’m sure you’ve heard of him.”

“I have,” Thack said, nodding.

“The other; they were crying for help. Would you have any idea who that could be, or would you not know anything about that?” Hopefully that didn’t come off as harsh.

“It could be a number of people,” Thack answered. “It could be me. It could be one of the people on any of the bulk traveling machines that were here last year, or of the people who travel using other means. It could be you, from your future.” She looked away from him as if her own words had given her an idea. “Or from your past.”

“No, I would remember that,” Mateo insisted.

“Aren’t you missing some personal time? Think back.”

Mateo winced, not knowing what she was talking about, but then he realized that she might be onto something. He did disappear once, from the Third Rail, in the Russian mine where they were looking for timonite to rescue Trina. When he came back, they thought that he had only jumped forward in time a couple of days, but he had always secretly had the feeling that he had actually been detoured somewhere in the meantime, and had since lost his memories of it. He never really talked about that with the others, but it was super weird that he just happened to swallow the one rock that they had been searching for. “Maybe you’re right. You really think that it was just me?”

“Oh, it’s only an idea. You have an opportunity to investigate that you didn’t have before, though. If you don’t have anything else going on, you could talk to Carlin.”

That was an interesting recommendation, one which he should probably take.

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The Advancement of Mateo Matic: May 31, 2452

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One of the crew members started counting down the distance. The physics of extradimensional space weren’t very intuitive. The equilibrium was proof that the membrane was all around. It wasn’t like one would have to travel a certain distance to reach it. They should be able to break free from anywhere. The fact that the Transit moved so quickly was just its way of accomplishing this, as opposed to other methods, like temperature and pressure, or surgical strikes. Still, there was a physical boundary, which would kill them if they collided with it, and it was approaching fast. Or rather, they were approaching it. In order to combat this, they needed Olimpia’s umbrella.

“Eleven units!” the engineer called out about a second or two after saying that it was thirteen. “Nine! Seven! Sir, we need to abort!”

“There’s no time, Dawn,” Freya reminded her. “We have to trust in magic.”

“This will work!” Olimpia insisted. “We just have to get closer before it actually starts...w—w—working.” She wasn’t super confident in this.

“Three! One!”

They held their breaths again.

“Two! Four! Six. Eight. Ten.” Dawn was beginning to relax.

“It is working, Olimpia, keep holding!”

“For how long!” Olimpia questioned. Increasing the length of the kasma itself was proving to be far harder than simply holding back the Lucius bomb back on Ex-467. And this time, she probably couldn’t ask someone else to give her a break, or they would be destroyed during the hand-off.

Dawn’s numbers kept going up and up and up as the walls of the universe cleaved for them. For Olimpia. “Fifty-five, fifty-six...infinite.”

“Infinite?” Freya asked.

“Infinite,” she repeated. “We’re not in the kasma anymore. We’re in the outer bulk. She just built a canal for us.”

Marie started to massage Olimpia’s back. “Ya done good, kid.”

Olimpia was breathing heavily, and hanging her head low. “I think I need to go to the med car too.”

Marie caught her when she keeled over, and teleported her away.

Leona held one finger up when Azura tried to say something to her. She and Angela were listening to the state of their teammates. Both Olimpia and Ramses were probably going to be all right eventually. “Okay. What was that?”

“Are you talking to me now?” Azura asked.

“Yes, Azura, go ahead.”

“I don’t have the coordinates for very many universes. I’ve sort of...burned bridges in most of them, and I don’t know how the Maramon in Providenciaverse would react to you, since your history with their species is...complicated.”

“Can we get back into Salmonverse from here?” Angela asked.

“The membrane is too thick,” Dawn explained as she was looking at her computer. I can get you back in, but...”

“But what?” Freya encouraged.

“Not in your present day,” Dawn clarified. “The part of the barrier that runs throughout the entire time period is thicker. It’s like if you sealed a box with tape, and then wrapped a whole bunch of tape around the middle until the whole roll was gone.”

Azura looked at her like she was crazy. “You’ve heard of adhesive tape?”

“I grew up on a fairly primitive planet. Yes, I’ve heard of tape.”

“Where can we go?” Leona pressed.

“Where’s Treasure?” Freya asked, knowing that no one here knew the answer, or they never would have been in the kasma in the first place.

Leona sighed in the middle of the silence. “Matt, get back here, please,” she said into her comms. “I know, but you’re not a doctor. Trust whoever’s there to take care of them, and come back. You’re the only one who can do this.”

Mateo reluctantly jumped back to the executive car. “What is it?”

“I need you to reach out to Amber. We’re looking for someone in the bulk, and she’s the only one we can communicate with from presumably anywhere.”

Mateo looked at everyone in the group. All of the delegates from the Sixth Key were still here, watching him like eagles over a river. “I could use some space.”

“Olkan, take our guests to...” Azura grumbled, and massaged her face with both of her hands. “I dunno, nothing is ready here yet. I guess use car six. It would not be a bad idea to remodel some VIP living compartments at some point.”

A guy apparently named Olkan led the delegates away. Besides Leona, Mateo, Angela, Freya, and Azura, only Carlin stayed behind, which was fine. Mateo found a seat to relax in. Amber appeared to be able to reach out to him psychically whenever she wanted, and with very little effort, but it was a lot harder for him since he wasn’t a psychic himself; he was just bonded to her. He closed his eyes, and let himself drift away from this plane of existence. A few minutes later, he reopened them. But it wasn’t actually him. His consciousness was being suppressed. Amber smiled his lips, and looked amongst the small group, settling on Azura. “You must be Azura. I’ve met your brothers and sisters.”

“How are they doing?” Azura asked.

Amber shrugged Mateo’s shoulders. “They were all right, last I saw them. They left in their little grenade thing. Said something about a different war.”

“We need to talk to Thack Natalie Collins,” Azura went on. “You can do that?”

“No, we are not bonded,” Amber answered. “I can talk to Sanaa Karimi, though, and there is a point in the metaphysical history of the bulkverse when those two cross paths. Would you like me to call her?”

“That would be great,” Freya said in Azura’s stead.

Amber shifted her gaze over to Freya. “One moment, please.” Mateo’s eyes glazed over, quite literally. The irises and pupils were all but gone. Another few minutes later, the trance was broken again. Mateo looked over at Leona. “Hey, bitch.”

“Sanaa?” Leona questioned.

“Now with one hundred percent more penis. How the heck are ya?”

“Where are you?” Leona asked. “Is Thack there? Can you ask her where Treasure is for us?”

“Treasure’s here too, dum-dum.”

“Where?” Freya asked frantically. “Where are you?”

“Thack called it Stoutverse. We’re havin’ a picnic. Whole gang’s here.”

“Stoutverse,” Freya echoed. “Have you heard of that, Azura?”

“No,” Azura answered, shaking her head.

“Is this the Transit?” Sanaa questioned.

“Yeah.”

“She’s expecting you,” Sanaa said like it was no big deal. “ So you must figure out how to get here at some point.”

“What did you mean by the whole gang?” Azura asked Sanaa. “Who is that? Is anyone else there who might have the coordinates?”

“Well, sure,” Sanaa began. “The Crossover, the Prototype, some chick in a sexy spacesuit, a dude in a very colorful coat.”

“Dawn,” Azura said quickly. “Remember I told you about the Crossover. We’ve never formed a link before, because there’s no way to know who’s in control of it, but now we have a baseline. Piggyback off of Mateo’s psychic connection, and send a ping. We’ll have our coordinates.”

“Later, sluts!” Mateo blinked. “It was nice to meet you all.” That was probably Amber. He blinked again. “You’re all gonna die.” he said in a darker tone, and with furrowed brows. He blinked again, and widened his eyes in horror. “Help!” he cried, in a higher pitched voice, but quietly, like someone might do if mimicking a cheering crowd without raising their voice too much. One more blink, and suddenly the Time Shriek started to echo throughout the car, and reportedly in other cars down the line. It wasn’t coming from Mateo’s mouth, but it was probably triggered by the multiversal link. They covered their ears in pain, as it was far louder than it usually was.

Azura reached over to the controls, and somehow figured out how to shut it off. “Jesus. What the hell was that?”

“You’ve never heard that before?” Angela asked, shocked.

“No, I’ve heard it before, of course, everyone has. I just mean why here, why now, why that frickin’ bad?”

“Mateo, what do you remember?” Leona asked.

“I remember how it felt,” he told her. It was fine when Amber and Sanaa were in my head, but not after that. It was...disturbing in a way that was all too familiar.”

“You know who that was,” Angela said, not as a question.

“It was Meredarchos. He’s not happy with us.”

Everyone exchanged looks.

“If he’s not where Treasure is, then I don’t care,” Freya determined. “If he is, then we have to go. We have to go either way.”

“Dawn?” Azura posed.

“I have the coordinates. Well, I have a trail of breadcrumbs anyway.”

“Then let’s go.”

The trip took them most of the rest of the day, though their aging and metabolisms were halted. Ramses and Olimpia recovered fully in this time, thanks to their superior substrates, and the work of the medic, Spectra. She checked Mateo out too, though they weren’t exactly equipped to detect issues that resulted from psychic connections, or psychic intrusions. One thing that Mateo was able to tell was that the person who cried for help at the end was not Meredarchos, but a fourth consciousness, and he didn’t know who it was, or where they were. He offered to reach out to Amber again, or even try to contact Sanaa, but Leona forbade it. It was not safe; what happened before could be repeated, and Meredarchos might be able to find a full foothold next time. They just all sat there and waited until the journey was over.

Finally, they pierced the membrane of what was evidently called Stoutverse. They could hear the train horn blare, which Dawn said they were unable to figure out how to disable. The viewscreens showed confirmation of Sanaa’s claims. The Prototype and Crossover were sitting next to each other in a wide open field. Several picnic tables were a few dozen meters away, but only a handful of people were there, watching them until the spacetrain came to a complete stop. Azura and Team Matic followed after Freya ran out. “Where’s my daughter?” she demanded to know

Thack pointed towards the sky, and looked up. “On the frontlines. The Darning Wars have begun.”

“I don’t know what that means,” Freya said angrily.

“It means the Transit needs to get up there, and start defending this planet,” Thack replied. “Anyone who doesn’t want to participate should disembark now. They’ll be safe here on the ground.”

Azura lifted her watch up to her mouth. “Evacuate the passengers. We’re going into battle. This is not a drill.”

“Get her back right now,” Freya ordered. She was also talking to a man standing next to Thack. “This is not what we talked about. We agreed to let her be more independent, not a soldier.”

“Zek made the decision to pull her up there,” another woman explained.

Freya gave her a dirty look, and then turned her face away again. “I don’t care that she asked to watch. Send her back down to me this instant.”

A teenage girl, a twentysomething guy, and a thirtysomething woman appeared on the ground. “Mom, why did you do that? We could talk later.”

“Are you fighting the Ochivari up there?”

“The Cormanu is the safest place I could be right now. And I need to learn.”

“That’s not true, young lady,” the man said, the implication being that he was her father. “The Primus has a bunker. “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize that she went up too,” he loud whispered to Freya. “It was only for a couple of minutes, though.”

They hadn’t realized that Azura had run back to the Transit. “Fray, are you coming?” She wasn’t urging her, just asking.

“Do what you gotta do!” Freya yelled back.

“Hi, I’m Primus Naraschone Mihajlović. This is my lieutenant, Kineret McArthur.” The other stranger reached out, and started shaking hands, but she kept messing it up, as if she were still learning how.

Leona showed her Mario Matic’s special watch, which recalibrated itself to every new destination’s timekeeping standards. “Is this the date and year right now?”

“May 31, 2452,” Primus Mihajlović recited with a nod. “It is.”

All of Team Matic were surprised. It was quite the coincidence, that the time period was close to what it was when they left home. Perhaps it was done intentionally, and the plan was for them to come here all along, but whoever was pulling the strings was waiting for the right moment. They may have let it go, but if they had broken the accelerated time bubble early enough, and returned to their regular pattern, this was bound to be one of the days that they were in the timestream. Did their pattern follow them here? Before they could dwell on it, though, most people there suddenly disappeared. Other than the team, only Carlin, Thack, the Primus, and her lieutenant remained. “Uhh...can any of you teleport? Please say yes.”

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