Extremus: Year 100

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After months of investigating and compiling data, Tinaya and Lataran had to put the inquiry on hold for a bit while the latter gave birth. She named her daughter Sable, and obviously started to focus on her while Tinaya continued. It was months more before she realized that she trusted the wrong people, and a few months after that before anyone agreed to sit down with her to explain the situation.

They’re in this meeting now, in the former mirror room, of all places. This operation is clearly completely off the books, but it goes pretty high up the food chain. Tinaya still doesn’t understand why. A representative from the Bridger Section is here. She hasn’t ever met him, and doesn’t know what his role is. Also present are Doctors Cernak and Gunnarsson, proving that she was right to conscript a third party physician from Verdemus. The current Consul, Head of Security, and some woman that Tinaya doesn’t know either are all sitting opposite her, but still separate from the others. They’re apparently waiting for someone else, and being very quiet while they do.

Finally, Captain Jennings walks in. “Oceanus,” Tinaya exclaims, standing up. “You’re in on this too.”

“Whatever this is,” Oceanus replies, “decidedly no. I’ve been told something has been happening under my nose, and it has to do with you and Lataran, but I do not yet know what it is. Explain, Darling.”

Consul Darling clears his throat. “It’s not my place. I was only recently made aware of the project when it became clear that Admiral Leithe was getting close to figuring it out on her own.”

“It’s not a project if no one knows about it,” Tinaya argues. “It would be an operation. But I just call it a conspiracy.”

No one responds.

“Who is in charge here?” Oceanus demands to know.

The Bridger stands. “Please have a seat, Captain.”

Still seething, Oceanus sits down next to Tinaya. They take each other’s hands. They’ve grown close over the course of the last year, having spoken nearly every day as he’s gotten better at seeking her counsel. She didn’t read him in on her side mission because she didn’t want him to be distracted from running the ship.

The Bridger makes one step away from his seat. “As you all know, Bridgers have access to future knowledge. We use this knowledge to guide Extremus on its mission, protecting its mandate at all costs.”

“No,” Tinaya interrupts.

“No...what?” the Bridger asks.

“No, your job is not to protect the mission at all costs, but to a reasonable and ethical degree. Your predecessors understood that. Why don’t you?”

“I misspoke,” the Bridger claims.

“I don’t believe you. You’ve been violating people’s bodies on a repeated basis. I don’t care what reason you think you had for this, it’s wrong.”

“You might not agree once you hear those reasons,” the Bridger claims.

“Well, get on with it, then,” Oceanus spits.

The Bridger sighs. He kind of looks like he wants to sit back down, but he has the floor. “As I was saying, we are aware of future events. Sometimes we can change them, sometimes we can’t, and sometimes we shouldn’t. This particular issue is hopefully the former, but we’re still not sure. It’s unclear how successful we’re being, if at all. We still don’t understand what the source of the problem is, but the problem itself is totally unambiguous. We have a population decline issue.”

“What?” Tinaya asks. “Population growth is a matter of public record. Our numbers have been rising.”

“You’re right, they have,” the Bridger agrees, “but not at a fast enough rate. One day soon, this number will plateau, and then it will start going back down. Trust me, I’ve already seen it play out.”

“So you rape women?” Tinaya questions. That’s a serious accusation.

Dr. Cernak shoots out of his chair like it’s on fire. “That is not what we’re doing! Don’t you ever frame it that way!”

“Doctor. Please,” the Bridger requests.

“Ah, so it’s a framing issue,” Tinaya sees. “You’re not denying breaking the Synthetic Age Oath of Ethical Medical Practice. You just don’t want me to talk about it. I get it.”

“No, you don’t get it,” Cernak insists. “We don’t even take the full SAOEMP in its original form. We have to take a modified version of it since we don’t accept certain forms of lifesaving procedures, like healing nanites or consciousness transference.”

“Don’t you?” Tinaya questions. She leaves it at that, because Consul Darling may not know about The Question, and the Head of Security almost certainly doesn’t.

Dr. Cernak huffs. “We didn’t impregnate anyone. We simply gave them the option to procreate by hastening the degradation of the silencing enzyme.”

“Without our consent, nor our knowledge!” Tinaya shouts.

“Admiral Leithe,” Consul Darling scolds.

“No, I’m not going to calm down. You think what you did is okay because of some future problem that almost no one knows about? I don’t care which ethical oath you took, it’s either not enough, or you broke it! This is unacceptable. It is a violation of our rights to identity and self-determination. That’s why we switched from the Hippocratic Oath in the first place, because it was woefully insufficient for the needs of a population in a world where death is more of a question than an inevitability. Yeah, Cernak, I actually do understand that you take a variant of the standard ethical oath, but that involves more restrictions on care, not less. Consent is everything, and you should have known that. I swear to God, you two, despite my lack of power as an admiral, I will see to it that you are both dismissed, delicensed, and sent to hock.”

“You don’t have that power,” Consul Darling states the obvious. “Not even the Captain can do that much.”

“I can.” It’s the mysterious woman who has been sitting quietly until now. Everyone seems scared of her, even the Bridger. She stands and stares at him to strongly suggest that he sit back down. “My name is Tiere Victorian, and I serve as the Superintendent of the Bridger Section. My power lies in personnel decisions, rather than policy, just like Superintendent Grieves. I am the sole voice who decides when and if it is necessary to replace an executive crewmember of the Extremus with a Bridger alternate. So I was not made aware of this operation before, because it was not required to do my job. But I have the authority to dismiss or discipline anyone on either ship for any reason with impunity for myself. I could fire you, Dr. Cernak, because I don’t like which side your hair is parted on. I suggest you start being less defensive, and more contrite.”

He shrinks.

Tiere goes on, “I have reviewed the data that my colleagues have made available to me regarding the population crisis, and again, I do not have the power to end the program, but I can make one vital change that will most likely end it anyway.”

They’re on the edge of their seats.

“I can place Admiral Leithe in charge of it,” she finishes. Yeah, that’ll do it.

Tinaya can’t help but smirk. She’s going to shut this down, effective immediately, and come clean—if not to the whole ship, then at least to all aggrieved parties. “I’m going to need everything on this. I wanna know who came up with it, who else was involved, and who was aware of it. I need to know who on this ship was impacted by it, either directly or indirectly. I need names and details, as well as any ancillary records, messages, and notes.”

Dr. Cernak stands now. “I’m not giving you jack or shit unless I’m guaranteed to hold my position as Chief Medical Officer until such time that I retire.”

There’s a quick silence. “I’ll get you what you need,” the Bridger says to Tinaya. She still doesn’t know his name. That’s probably by design.

“You don’t have the medical files,” Cernak reminds him. “Those are confidential.”

“Doctor,” Tinaya begins, “when one crewmember leaves their post, and that job is backfilled by another, what happens to the data that they collected during their shift? Do you think they take it to the grave?” It’s a rhetorical question, but she pauses a moment anyway. “When you’re officially let go, you’ll lose all access, and your replacement will gain it. We don’t need you anymore.” She looks over at the Head of Security. “What did you know of this program?”

“Dasher Bruin, sir. Head of Security, Year Ninety-Six to Year One-Oh-Three, sir. I was read into the situation on day one of my shift, sir, and was told to not ask questions, sir. I did my job, protecting the interests of the ship at the behest of my superiors, sir.”

“I am your superior,” Tinaya tells him.

“Yes, sir,” he agrees.

“Escort Misters Cernak and Gunnarsson to a holding cell in hock, please.”

What little light was left in these former doctors’ eyes now fades. She does not have the power to strip them of their medical licenses, but she’ll make sure it happens. However long that takes, they’ve each seen their last patient.

“Yes, sir.” Dasher lifts his watch to his mouth, and whispers, likely for a security team to come assistant him in his task. He takes two packs of dynamic EM tethers out of his pocket, and tries to fit Cernak and Gunnarsson with them. They can hold their wrists between fifteen and twenty-five centimeters apart, but if they try to pull them beyond that range, the attractive magnets will activate, and if the try to push them too close, they will switch to a repulsive force. They come in specific pairs, but Dasher accidentally mixes them up, which leaves the prisoners tethered to each other. They look like lovers, their four hands hanging together like that. “Oh my God, sorry.”

“Officer Bruin, are you nervous?” Tinaya asks.

“I just don’t know if...if this is it for me. Should I put a couple of these on myself too?” Dasher asks.

Tinaya considers it. She makes a decision quickly. “You’ll be turned over to a new Head when one can be found and appointed. You’ll face no criminal charges, though. You can tell people that you wanted to spend time with your family, or start a family. I can’t say the same for everyone else.” She looks around at the people in the room.

Dasher is clearly relieved. He deftly swaps the cuffs out so they’re back in their right pairs, and starts to leave. The cuffs also have a feature where the detainee can’t stray more than four meters from their escort, or can’t get closer than two meters. So they start being dragged behind him. “I think I’ll see if I can’t start a family,” Dasher says as he’s exiting. “If the ship needs more kids, I’ll give it more kids.”

Dasher is not alone in his line of thinking. As it turns out, honesty is the best policy. Tinaya’s new temporary job as Head of Population Sustainability not only involves ending the unethical program, but finding a suitable replacement. She’s still an admiral, but she has all these other responsibilities too. Shutting down the program isn’t as easy as flipping a switch. Thousands of aging women were injected with the intentionally defective silencing enzymes, and all of them need medical appointments to correct that. But before that can happen, new professionals need to be hired to actually perform these procedures, and that’s complicated, because Cernak and Gunnarsson were certainly not the only ones on the medical team who were a part of the conspiracy. To fill the ranks, a few doctors and nurses are recruited straight out of medical school for positions that were just a tad bit above their qualifications. As a precautionary measure, they will always have oversight, and their teachers expressed confidence in their abilities to perform admirably, and more importantly than ever, ethically.

As the proverbial swamp is drained, and replacements are selected, murmurs of what’s going on begin to echo throughout the ship. Some learn the truth outright, at least from the mouths of those who had to be told something ahead of the shipwide announcement. Others just notice that the crew shift changes are out of sync with the schedule, and very fishy. There’s a lot of confusion, though, and things need to be cleared up. Once all the prep work is done, Tinaya stands on stage, and makes her broadcast speech. She reveals the truth to everyone, in disgusting and uncomfortable detail. She explains that she herself was the victim of this morally bankrupt operation, as was Admiral Keen. The reaction is angry and visceral, and not at all unexpected. People are pissed about being lied to, and about the deep breach of ethics that these people committed.

There’s no violence, though, and once the fury subsides, the outcome starts to emerge. Dasher fathers three children with three different women within one year, with plans to conceive even more in the future, though he will hopefully slow down as there is a limit to how many younglings that a parent can responsibly raise at the same time. Others end up feeling the same sentiment, and begin to conceive more children than they were apparently planning. It’s not this big, advertised movement. People are just independently inspired to aid the cause. Tinaya doesn’t have insight into any changes they might be having on the future. Tiere is executing her own disciplinary action in house, and isn’t being any more transparent than the Bridgers have ever been. But it seems to be working. They have to hire more medical staff than ever to care for the baby boomers. For a hot minute, everything seems okay. Then they encounter at least one unfavorable consequence. Twenty-year-old Waldemar is just as inspired to support the population growth efforts as so many others. He ends up getting a now fifteen-year-old Audrey pregnant, and it is not immediately evident if it was consensual or not.

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Extremus: Year 99

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Tinaya is in a little trouble. It’s not enough to get her fired, or stripped of her rank, but she’s been in a lot of meetings over the last few months. Everyone in these meetings pretty much tells her that it’s no big deal. Which is weird. Because if they’re being honest, who exactly thinks that it is a big deal, because someone keeps prompting more discussions. She thought it was over, and the crew and the council had moved on, but Captain Jennings is presently walking down Admiral Hall, and she doesn’t know what to make of it. He might be here to see Lataran instead, but given the circumstances, probably not. Thistle knows that the man needs no introduction, so upon Oceanus’ approach, the door opens automatically.

“Captain,” Tinaya says, respectfully with a nod.

“Admiral.” In every single other iteration of organizational ranks that include captain and admiral, the latter is the superior officer. It seems obvious. It’s a promotion, after all, and that is no less true here. But the whole point of the captaincy is to have a singular voice in charge of the ship. This relegates any admiral to an advisory role. They had their opportunities to enact policy and procedures, and now that is over. As clear and unambiguous as the responsibilities are listed in the handbook, it can make moments like these somewhat awkward. The book doesn’t, and can’t, encapsulate how these two should behave around each other. If they were robots, it would be easy and obvious, but at the end of the day, they’re both just people, and they can’t take emotions, or their history, out of the equation.

“How nice of you to visit our corner of paradise.” She means this genuinely.

“Yes, that’s what I would like to talk to you about.”

She nods silently.

“We’ve been in meetings for the last million years, but we’ve not had the chance to talk one-on-one. Where’s Lataran?”

“I dunno,” Tinaya replies. “Somewhere else.”

“I just—can we sit?”

“Of course. Right here.” Tinaya pivots her guest chair so he can sit down, then instead of going around to the other side of her desk, sits down across from him in one of Lataran’s guest chairs.

“I wanted to make sure you understand that I am not angry at you, or embarrassed for myself. I appreciate your candor, and admire your dedication to transparency. I would like to model my shift on it, and will be leaning on you for your guidance in such matters.”

“You don’t have to do that,” she explains. “I wasn’t complaining. Truthfully, I don’t know how we ended up in that part of the interview. He asked me a question, and I answered it. My only filter was whether it was classified information or not. I should have been more careful.”

“I’m the one who should be apologizing,” Oceanus goes on. “It bothers me that they kept making you do it over and over again. Every time they brought someone new in, they acted like the interview was a personal attack on this person too, and that isn’t what was happening. If I can be truthful, I didn’t realize that you were missing in my life. Perhaps if I had made an effort to meet with you once after my induction ceremony, it would have been encoded in my memory, and I would have come to you more often. There have been times over the last few years where I’ve struggled, and I could have used the counsel. I placed too much burden on my lieutenants, and did not recognize your value. For that, I’m sorry.”

“That’s very kind of you,” Tinaya says, “and graceful.” That doesn’t seem like quite the right word, but she’s not going to find a new one, and correct herself.

There’s a brief unawkward moment of silence before Oceanus speaks again. “I would like to set up regular meetings with the two of you. Perhaps you and I can talk on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays, and I can have Lataran on Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays?”

“I’m sure she would be amenable to that,” Tinaya says. While Lataran has gotten better at busying herself with other tasks, her number one job is to be available every day, so Tinaya doesn’t have to ask her if the proposed schedule will work.

“Perfect. And on the seventh day, God rested.”

“Who is God in this metaphor?”

Oceanus averts his gaze to consider it. “The ship itself.” He pauses another moment. “Or one of the zebra fish that the secondary school first years genetically engineer to learn about digital DNA.” Now it’s a bit awkward.

“So, uh...it’s Tuesday.”

“Yeah,” Ocean replies quickly, standing up. “Let’s start next week. You can fill Lataran in, and if she wants to change things up, we can talk about it.”

“Okay. It was nice to see you, Captain. Thanks for stopping by.”

“Are we okay?” he asks.

“We’re great. Don’t worry. I don’t know if you need to be transparent with everyone all the time, but as long as you’re honest with me, we’ll be okay.”

“Thanks.”

Lataran walks into the room with her head down as she’s unsealing the front of her uniform. “Oh my God, the self-sizing function on my suit is acting up. I can’t breathe.” Finally, she looks up, surprised. “Captain, you’re here.” She looks back down. “And my bare breasts are out.” She closes her uniform back up.

“Forgive the intrusion, Admiral.” He starts walking past her to the door. “I’ll wait one day to file my report with the Conduct Department, so you can get your side of the story in first.”

“Thank you, sir. Sorry, sir.”

“It doesn’t bother me on principle. I just want to ensure that you feel safe and comfortable.” He exits.

“Am I in trouble now too?” Lataran asks.

“Exposure isn’t illegal,” Tinaya reminds her, “even in the workplace. Conduct just needs a record of the incident. I’m more worried about what I just saw, and what it means. Or what it could mean.”

“What do you mean?” Lataran questions. “What does what mean? Mean. What did I just say? Just tell me what you’re talking about.”

“We’ve known each other our whole lives, right? Which is why you were comfortable changing right in front of me, when you thought it was just the two of us, of course.”

“I should think so. It wouldn’t be the first time.”

“Exactly. And in that time, your size hasn’t changed much.”

“Are you saying I’m getting fat?”

“I’m saying that...part of you...kind of looks like...it might be. They...might be.”

“Oh my God, am I pregnant?”

“Maybe.”

“I’m sixty-four years old!”

“I was sixty-four when I had Silveon.”

“Yeah, and that was weird. You’re weird, I’m normal.”

“I wouldn’t say that.”

Lataran unseals the front of her uniform again, and looks down. “Oh my God.” She looks up, and covers her chest. Then she pulls her suit away to look down again, as if she’s going to get different results. “Oh my God!”

“It will be okay, Latty. I figured it out. So will you.”

“You had Arqut!”

“Who’s your Arqut?”

“Some guy. We’re not close.”

“That’s okay. You’re not alone. Whatever you decide, I support you.”

Lataran purses her lips and nods. She’s appreciative of her friend, but that isn’t the issue. “Thistle? Am I pregnant?”

“Yes,” he answered.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I assumed you knew.”

“Why would you assume that?”

“You had a medical check-up last week, and I am not privy to those appointments. They would have been able to confirm it for you quite easily.”

“That’s true,” Lataran agrees.

“Due to her advanced age, however,” Tinaya begins, “pregnancy is unusual. They would not have necessarily tested for it. You, on the other hand, test wellness passively constantly.”

“That is also true,” Thistle confirms. “I should have said something earlier. I will be sure to do better in the future.”

“I hope that future doesn’t involve me getting pregnant a second time,” Lataran laments. “And I forgive you, Thistle. Perhaps an overhaul of our medical monitoring program needs to be addressed. I shouldn’t have to ask for any test that can be detected automatically.” She’s right. Most people in the stellar neighborhood of Earth maintain persistent diagnostic tools wherever they go using the medical nanites swimming in their blood. Even those who don’t want nanites that are sophisticated enough to treat their conditions automatically have some kind of tracking system in place, like an implant. Extremus has strayed away from these transhumanistic upgrades because they could lead to virtual immortality. That would go against the mandate of this ship, which is that everyone dies, and not everyone will live to see the home planet. Perhaps that should be reëvaluated too, though, since it’s a damn lie.

Tinaya doesn’t want to sound critical or judgmental here, but this may be the most sensitive way to put it. “There are ways to be more careful.”

“I know,” Lataran admits. “I should have kept an eye on it. But my doctor should have spotted it too. It sounds like there’s a real issue. I may not be the only one. There could be a bad batch of reproduction regulators for all we know.” Birth control has long been perfected. Like medical diagnosis and treatment, the stellar neighborhood has access to nanites to control all of the body’s functions. Since that is forbidden on the ship, anyone who wants to have purely recreational sex should receive an injection to suppress the brain signals that trigger reproduction. It can be turned back off with a second injection, and will remain in place until such time that it is reversed intentionally...except in one case. Anyone who is destined to experience menopause is required by law to switch over to an alternative variation of the injection which does wear off over time. Well, time isn’t what wears it down. It’s sex. The more often you have it, the more you butt up against the neural programming, and the less it resists, so you have to receive renewal injections accordingly. It’s an unfortunate but necessary tradeoff. Menopause can’t occur at all with the more robust silencing enzyme, and preventing menopause has been shown to have negative health consequences. Just as it has always been, though, women bear the brunt of the responsibility.

“I assume that you’ve been going to the chief medical officer?”

“Yeah,” Lataran answers. “Well, Radomil hasn’t ever been able to see me personally. The Senior Executive Physician has performed my last three check-ups.”

“This is Dr. Gunnarsson?”

“Yes.”

“Yeah, he did my check-ups too. It’s unusual. The CMO is supposed to personally handle all medical needs for admirals, captains, and lieutenants.”

“Yeah. Do you want me to go over his head?”

“No.” Tinaya shakes her head while thinking about it. She looks over her shoulder, in the general direction of the secret mini-Nexus hidden in the floor. “Dr. Cernak is in charge of the entire ship’s medical personnel, including the passenger side of things. The most removed we can get from him is the Hock doctor, but they do have regular meetings together, so I’m not even entirely comfortable with that.”

“What would you suggest?” Lataran asks, not having noticed where Tinaya was looking.

“You need to go to Verdemus. That is an entirely separate team. They are not in contact. The more I think about this, the more concerned I become that there’s something going on. Two old women having babies; as you said, it’s weird.”

“I don’t think that I should go through the Nexus,” Lataran determines. “Omega and Valencia never warned us not to, but it just seems...risky.”

Tinaya nods. “You’re right, I agree. I’ll go get whoever it is, and bring them back here for a house call. We won’t tell anyone else, not even Arqy.”

Lataran has been frowning for a while, but now she exaggerates it. “Thank you.”

“While I’m gone, pull up the records. Find out how many other old mothers there are, if any. I’m not saying it’s a conspiracy—it might not be—but...it might be.”

And so Tinaya goes off to the home away from home planet of Verdemus, hoping to convince a doctor there to come back and secretly examine a patient. Everyone there is really helpful, and the doctor in question returns with no argument. She doesn’t even complain when Tinaya asks to blindfold her, and teleport her to the Admiral office, which could have been on the other side of the ship, but in reality, they were already in it. Before the exam even begins, though, Lataran has news. Women who should be old enough to be post-menopausal are getting pregnant left and right. They are crewmembers and passengers alike. It’s a growing trend with no apparent explanation, and neither of them is sure who they can go to about this, because they don’t know who to trust. They end up seeking help from the Bridger Section, but it turns out to be a mistake. They’re not just in on it. They’re spearheading it.

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Microstory 1984: Pancakes Come First

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Myka: Are we sure about this?

Reese: No, but everyone else is safe at the third location, and this is the best chance we have to getting our jobs back. I want to work with Director Washington, but we have to make sure that we can trust her.

Myka: Anaïs doesn’t think she’s a mole.

Reese: Even if she isn’t, she may lock us all up just because we ran. This is the best test I can come up with. Well...Anaïs came up with it, but I approved it, so the responsibility falls upon my shoulders. Of course, she could pass with flying colors, and then screw us over later, so maybe none of this matters.

Leonard: Today cannot be understood before tomorrow becomes yesterday.

Myka: Did you come up with that?

Leonard: It’s from a poet from my world.

Myka: *sighing after a pause* Why didn’t we give the Director the third location, and keep everyone safe here. Isn’t Micro upset about this place possibly being burned.

Micro: *walking up* This is a great lair. She’ll believe it’s where we’ve been hiding, because we have. I don’t mind it being burned. I have more copies of this in other universes. Don’t you worry your pretty little self about me.

Reese: You don’t have to be here, though. You can hide with the others.

Micro: Like she’d believe you could do any of this without me. *starts to step away*

Reese: Hey, wait. How are your sensors? Are you detecting any strike team?

Micro: A-okay, boss. We’re clear. Balls to the wall. Once more, unto the breach. That’s poetry from my world. [...] She’s here, doe.

*after a few moments, the door opens, and Director Washington comes in alone*

Reese: *clearing his throat* Madam Director, you found it.

Director Washington: It wasn’t that hard. I didn’t start out in an office, you know.

Reese: Of course, sir. Thank you for coming. Juice? Tea? Pastries?

Washington: Is this Sunday brunch, or did you wanna discuss business?

Reese: I want us to come back together.

Washington: That’s what I want too, Subdirector Parsons. You’re the ones who left. *looking around* Where is everyone else anyway?

Reese: Valentine Duval is working security. Everyone else is presently...out.

Washington: *thinking about it* This was a test. You only gave me your location to see what I would do with this information? You thought I might attack?

Micro: *coming back into the main area* Yeah, you came alone. What’s with that? Don’t you have your own bodyguards?

Washington: Like I was just saying, I was not always an administrator. I can look after myself. Now. Subdirector Parsons—

Reese: Am I still a subdirector? Am I anything to the government but a fugitive?

Washington: Yes, Subdirector Parsons. I know that we are in the midst of corruption issues, and I know that you are not one of these corrupted people. I would be glad to discuss reintegration, but first...you must tell me where the others are.

Micro: No, first...pancakes.

Microstory 1983: The Choice of Risk

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Reese: How are things going at headquarters?

Anaïs: They’re fine.

Reese: Do you need us to pull you out? Just say the word. Don’t feel obligated.

Anaïs: I’m not just being a big brave girl, Agent. I really am fine. I still feel safe there.

Reese: Okay. So what’s the update?

Anaïs: Washington is finished with her interrogations. She spoke with everyone, and determined that there aren’t any other moles in the department.

Reese: Well...who interrogated Director Washington?

Anaïs: I know that that’s what we’ve been worried about, but I think she cleared her own name in the process. She could have found a mole, and thrown them under the bus, which would have thrown suspicion off of herself. It wouldn’t even have to be real.

Reese: So the fact that she isn’t outwardly doing anything to try to cover her tracks is telling you that she doesn’t have any tracks to cover? I’m sorry, that’s a weak argument. She may just feel comfortable enough in her position.

Anaïs: True, but I’m not the only one working on the problem, am I? Tell me, what has Micro uncovered during her external investigation.

Reese: *nods* Washington does seem clean. We’ve found no indication that she’s making more money than she earns at the office. She’s not making any unusual phone calls. Evidently she visited the original training facility, and picked Sergeant Sachs out after watching him spar, and reading his file. They didn’t know each other before.

Anaïs: Parsons, we don’t have much reason not to trust her. I think she was duped just as much as we were. She really wants to figure this out, and she’s working really hard to do that. I really think she’s all right. She did have a sour word to say about any of you.

Reese: Are you saying that we should try to come back in?

Anaïs: *stepping away to pace a little* It may not be yet time for that, but I do have another test we could try.

Reese: What would that be?

Anaïs: *spins back around* You’re not going to like it.

Reese: Is it dangerous?

Anaïs: No, I wouldn’t say that. In fact, you might be okay with it. If it goes poorly, at least we’ll know that I’m wrong, and she’s a traitor, but if it goes well...

Reese: Yeah...?

Anaïs: If it goes well, Washington might be the one who ends up not too happy.

Reese: All right. Spit it out.

Anaïs: I can go back to her, say that I’ve been looking for you—

Reese: No, that is dangerous.

Anaïs: I’m not even done explaining it.

Reese: It doesn’t matter. If you trust her, then either you and I should stop talking, and you’ll go back there fulltime, or we’ll pull you out and protect you, but you’re not going to put yourself at such risk. The nail that sticks out gets hammered down.

Anaïs: And that would be my choice. It’s a good plan, and I’m at less risk than you think. Why don’t you just wait until you hear the rest of it, okay?

Microstory 1982: Accusations

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Flynn: The Director has pulled up. What do you think she wants to talk to us about?

Celandine: She’s looking for the mole. She’ll be interrogating us for information.

Anaïs: Unless she’s a mole too, in which case the whole thing will be a charade. She may even be intending to frame one of us for it, so she stays in the shadows.

Flynn: You don’t really think she’s a traitor, do you?

Anaïs: Sachs is, and she chose him to join our tack team.

Celandine: That’s proof of nothing. Careful where you throw your accusations.

Anaïs: Why, because they’ll come flying back at me?

Celandine: Maybe.

Flynn: Easy, ladies. We’re all on the same side. Now, I don’t know if the Director is dirty, just like I don’t know if I can trust all these new agents around us. I felt so much more comfortable around the freepersons than I ever thought I would. But the one thing I do know is that I’ve been working with you two for months, and you’re definitely clean. Can we all at least just agree on that, and stick together?

Anaïs: I can.

Celandine: I can too. You’re right, Flynn. *sighs* She’s here. Get ready.

Director Washington: *walking up* Agent Robles, please gather the troops. I would like to address the group as a whole. I do not like repeating myself.

Celandine: Apologies, sir, I’m not in charge here.

*Washington looks over at Investigator Blass*

Blass: It’s true, sir. Herzog made a declaration after the others...after the exodus.

Washington: Investigator Blass, always with the politically safe verbiage. Very well. Go find him, and relay the order. In the meantime, Agent Robles, do you have tea?

*later, in the bullpen, with everyone in the department*

Washington: Last week, we unmasked a traitor in our ranks. Sergeant Sachs was a dedicated soldier, a patriot, and a good man. How he lost his way is something that I have assigned a team to figure out. This small group behind me is here to do the same with the rest of you. I’m going to be honest with you, we don’t know if he was working alone. He could have been a lone zealot, or there are others in your ranks. Or there are others, but they’ve been assigned to other departments. We truly do not know. If you are a mole, this may make you feel safe, comfortable. But I assure you that I will use every tool in my box to root out the cancer in the government, be it one of you, or even the National Commander himself. The aliens are here, and the last thing we need is to be fighting amongst ourselves when they make their next moves. We have to be ready, and this department was originally formed to do that. I’m saddened that it has disintegrated so epically quickly. In the next coming days, you will be questioned. Your backgrounds will be rechecked, and rechecked, and then re-rechecked. Your associates will be investigated, and your history will be traced. In the meantime, you will continue your training here, under the leadership of Agent Robles here. Who is Agent Herzog?

Herzog: Right here, sir. I took the initiative when the defectors...defected.

Washington: I heard. You’re fired, and you’ll be the first in the hot seat. No one does anything without my orders. Does everyone else at least understand that?

Microstory 1980: Cover

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Reese: How are we lookin’?

Micro: Fully secure...virtually. I can’t attest to the physical component. So if they find us, it won’t be because someone traces my signals. We’re ghosts. I’ll get the ceramics.

Reese: *phone rings* So if I answer this call, I’ll be fine?

Micro: Without a doubt.

Reese: *answers the phone* Go for Parsons.

SI Eliot: *through the phone* Agent Parsons, where are you?

Reese: I’m afraid I can’t tell you that, sir.

*SI Eliot will continue to communicate via phone call for this conversation*

SI Eliot: Don’t make me laugh, calling me sir while you’re actively betraying the government. Come back in, and I’ll protect you.

Reese: That’s not going to happen. We can’t trust anyone.

SI Eliot: How do you know that you can trust each other?

Reese: I trust the freemen and women. I trust Leonard. I don’t trust anyone with current, or former, ties to the government. You’ll notice that Agents Altimari, Robles, and Flynn are not with us. They could be plants too, as could Dreyer.

SI Eliot: Washington agreed to conscript the freepersons for their low probability of being corrupt. And Robles, Flynn, and Altimari are my people. I trust them implicitly.

Reese: But we can’t trust you either, or Director Washington. She’s the one who assigned Sachs to us. It was always suspicious, and now we know why. We asked him about his loyalties. He said two things. First, he admitted to attempting to kill Vogel to protect his own identity, and second, he claimed to be a continuing patriot. That usually means he still answers to someone in the government. Until that person is found, along with all of their cohorts, we have no choice but to operate independently.

SI Eliot: It’s not me, and it’s not Washington.

Reese: Sure.

SI Eliot: Reese, if you do this, I can’t help you. You and your team will be considered enemies of the state. They’ll be branded as traitors, and hunted down with the full force of the law. Your old partner will probably ask to arrest you himself.

Reese: They’re not traitors, and neither am I. Think through this logically. The country is in trouble. Trust is in short supply, which leads to mistakes and general inefficacy.

Micro: *saluting* General Inefficacy.

Reese: *holding the mouthpiece* Shh. *to SI Eliot* More aliens are coming. I can feel it. The best thing we can do to stop them is to compartmentalize our forces. We need to learn to attack from all angles, because I can guarantee you that that’s what the Ochivari are gonna do. They’ve been found in Kansas and Wyoming. How long before it’s Indonesia? How long before Russia? What if they’re already working with the Chinese?

SI Eliot: What are you going to do for money?

Reese: *looks at Micro* We have that covered.

SI Eliot: *sighs* I’ve been asked to rein you in nonviolently. I can’t stop them from sending in the troops. How could you possibly hope to defend yourselves?

Reese: *looks at Anaïs* We have that covered too. Goodbye, Hisham. *hangs up*

Microstory 1932: Building Trust

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Freewoman: Hey, are you okay? You look upset.

Agent Parsons: I can’t talk about it.

Freewoman: You can tell me anything. That’s what the couple bond means.

Agent Parsons: We made a commitment to each other, yes, but you didn’t make a commitment to the U.S. government. That’s the issue. That means I can’t tell you everything, even if I wanted to.

Freewoman: Well, how about you talk in generalizations, so you’re not giving anything away about what you’re investigating, or whatever.

Agent Parsons: I dunno...

Freewoman: When I was seven years old, my grandmother died. I didn’t want to, but my mother made me go up to her casket, and give her my goodbyes. I tried to walk away, but she made me go back and give her a kiss on her forehead. “It’s tradition, Myka,” she said. I’ll always remember that nasally tone she took with me. “It’s tradition, Myka.” Fine, I thought to myself, I’ll lean over and give her a kiss, but I’m not leaving empty-handed. I swiped the gold locket they were trying to bury with her, and later sold it at a pawn shop. That was the first crime I ever committed. I’m a graverobber, Reese.

Reese Parsons: I appreciate you trusting me with this story, but why are you telling it?

Myka: Just building trust. Your turn.

Reese: *cracking a smile* Okay. I betrayed a friend at work. I could have helped him directly. I could have protected him from my bosses, but I chose to go about it in such a way as to protect myself, and it didn’t work. He...was reprimanded, even though he didn’t do anything wrong, and now they won’t even let me talk to him.

Myka: Reese, I know what you’re talking about. I’m the one who helped try to get the word back to the escapee.

Reese: Oh yeah, I forgot.

Myka: So, he never got the message? I didn’t hear how that all turned out.

Reese: No, he got the message; he just chose to ignore it.

Myka: So it wasn’t your fault.

Reese: I can’t help but wonder if he would have listened if I had talked to him myself. I could have answered questions, and pushed harder, because I’m the one who understands what’s at stake. Who knows what information was left over once Freeman 11 got his hands on it? Maybe he warned Leonard that a pack of rabid zebras were running through the streets, instead of the true message.

Myka: Well, where is he now? Again, you don’t have to be specific, just clarify what’s stopping you from talking to him now.

Reese: He’s in a jail they built in the basement. They said they were gonna let me see him. They said that I would be able to help, but I guess they changed their minds.

Myka: What would happen if you disobeyed orders? Would they fire you?

Reese: They would remove me from the special assignment, but they wouldn’t have the authority to terminate my position with Fugitive Services. However, if she were so motivated, the Director could make a call, and make it happen.

Myka: Then I guess you’re gonna have to be sneaky about it, won’t you?

Microstory 1907: Introduction to Conversations

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Nick Fisherman: Guess who’s back with an off-brand old bag of tricks?

Tavis Highfill: What’s that now?

Nick: I’ll be the one asking the questions!

Tavis: ...were you gonna—

Nick: That sounds like the start of a question!

Tavis: It’s you. You’re back with an old bag of tricks. What does—I mean, I wonder what bag you’re referring to.

Nick: Do you remember a few years ago when we did the Interview Transcripts microfiction series, involving all kinds of different interview types?

Tavis: Yes, I recall.

Nick: We’re doing that again, except not as interviews. These are just general conversations.

Tavis and Nick: *salute* General Conversations.

Tavis: Why do you salute with your middle finger, fourth finger, and pinky?

Nick: Because no one else does.

Tavis: Fair enough. Tell me about these conversations. Are they going to be real conversations that you’ve had with real people?

Nick: Absolutely not. I could not, and would not, betray someone’s privacy like that. Hey, wait a minute. First of all, I thought I told you that I was the one asking questions, and also, I seem to remember saying something like this last time.

Tavis: You probably did. You’re not very original or creative.

Nick: Well you’re me, so...

Tavis: So, great. A new series. It’s been a long time since we’ve done one of those.

Nick: Yes, it’s very exciting, and also very stressful. I’m worried that I don’t remember how to start a story anymore.

Tavis: I’m sure you’ll figure it out.

Nick: Thanks.

Tavis: I wonder if these will take place in the same universe as the interview transcripts, or in some other specific universe, or whether you won’t think much about it while you’re writing them.

Nick: They will actually take place in a new universe.

Tavis: Does that mean it’s completely new, or you’ve just not mentioned it before?

Nick: Not tellin’.

Tavis: *laughs* Very well, then.

My Parole Officer: Hey, usually when you do a fake conversation in one of your nanofiction tweets, I’m involved. Am I going to be a part of this too?

Nick: Yes.

Tavis: Really? Wow. Okay, that’s weird. I can’t wait for tomorrow.

The Advancement of Mateo Matic: Year 182,398

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Mateo did as Tamerlane asked, though it was no small feat. The stasis pods are the lightest ever built in histories, but still more massive than Mateo. They set Bhulan’s to hover mode, which made it easier to move it to the elevator, and then into the airlock, but that’s not really the problem. Even some of the best teleporters have the standard triple mass limitation. They can carry themselves, and two other normal-sized adults, and no more. The number of people who are capable of handling more than that are very rare, and Ramses did not clone Mateo’s body to be one of them. The mass of the pod stood at the upper limit of this standard, which made the jumps difficult. He couldn’t wear a vacuum suit either, or that would have just added mass. He managed to make two dozen rapid jumps away from the planet, placing Bhulan’s pod in the middle of interplanetary space, at around ten million miles away. Tamerlane had placed a tracker on it, so it could be retrieved later, but then he sent the tracking device 50,000 years into the future using the time machine, so even if he wanted to, he would not be able to find her sooner.

It’s been 10,000 years now, and Mateo is getting worried. Using what Tamerlane taught him about his own stasis pod, he set the time difference at one minute per stint, instead of a second, which would have given him time to react if someone decided to reopen early. They haven’t. A full minute has passed, so he’s opening it himself. He steps into the main area to find Danica on that couch, clearly waiting for him. “Oh, hey.”

“Hello, cousin,” she replies.

“You don’t have to call me that, I know it makes you uncomfortable.”

“Oh, I just wanted to remind you that we’re kind of related, in case you ever got the idea to screw me over again.”

He sits down across from her. “There’s no need to be so vulgar.”

“I’m sorry. You want me to be a good girl?” she asks in a baby voice. Gross.

He’s going to ignore that. “Pryce made a compelling argument.”

“This oughta be good.”

“That no one should have the kind of power that that damn thing gets you.”

“Oh, this?” She reaches behind the couch as if going for a sword. When her hand returns, the Omega Gyroscope follows. She’s still not touching it; it’s hovering a few centimeters from her fingers. It seems you don’t have to be the possessor to play around with it. “You ever see the movie Wanted?”

“Can’t say that I have.”

“We have a very extensive library here.” She peers at the rotating gyroscope as it hovers over her left hand. She holds her right hand at the ready. “A library, Mateo is a collection—”

“You don’t have to talk down to me. I know I’m not smart, but you don’t know everything either. For instance, you obviously don’t know that mocking dumb people for being dumb actually doesn’t make you smarter. It just makes you an asshole.”

“You teleported my best friend to the middle of empty space somewhere. Some would say you’re the asshole.”

He sighs. “What did you want to show me?”

She keeps staring intently at the gyroscope. “The main character has been recruited into a shadowy organization, but before he can start killing people for them, he has to be trained, and go through tests. One of these tests is being able to snag a fast moving object called a shuttle through the fabric. We don’t have a loom here, but...” She darts her fingers into the gyroscope, taking something from the glowing orb in the center, and pulling it out before the metal bars—or whatever—can snap her fingers off. She drops one end of the object, but keeps hold of the other. It’s the hundemarke.

“What are you doing with that thing?”

“We’re trying to protect the timeline, but you seem to think you know better, and keep interfering with our work. First you show up, then you question our methods, then you try to escape through a time machine, and now you’ve kidnapped Bhulan.”

“Kidnapped is a strong word.”

“A strong word, and the right word.”

“I’m sorry.”

She feigns delight. “Great. Go out and get her back for me!”

“I don’t know where she is,” Mateo explains. “I just jumped randomly. Tamerlane is the one with the tracker.”

Danica nods, because she knows this to be true. “Well, the reason I’m showing you the hundemarke is because this is what’s really in control of the timeline in this reality. The Gyroscope is a power source, and an interface. We tell it what we want to happen, then the Gyroscope tells the hundemarke, and the hundemarke keeps it from being undone with time travel, or similar nonsense. Right now, Bhulan is in control of the Gyroscope, because that is how it works. Only one person can control it at any one time, or contradictions would give rise to paradoxes. The hundemarke does not operate the same way. If someone uses it to undo something else that someone used it for, then a new reality will simply spring up to avoid the paradoxes. You’ve seen that first hand. My point is that the hundemarke is fine. We combined it with the Gyroscope, because that makes it easier to execute decisions on a global scale.” She places the dog tag around her neck. “But I can do without it. Tamerlane’s plan is flawed, and your participation in that plan only served to piss me off, and make me trust you even less than I already did.”

“This sounds like an internal matter that I shouldn’t have anything to do with.”

“You placed yourself in the middle of it when you took sides, and agreed to help Tamerlane betray us.”

“At least he can take ten minutes out of the billions of years he has in front of him to hold a simple conversation! What did you expect? Haven’t you heard of a self-fulfilling prophecy?”

“I’m gonna stick you in that pod, and not let you out.”

“Great, that’s what I’ve been asking you to do, so I can get back to my family!”

“When I said not, I meant never.”

“Don’t do this, sweet Danica. Don’t make me give you the speech about how people who go up against us never win. Don’t become my enemy.”

“That speech is about how well you win with a team.” She looks around. “I don’t see any of them here.”

Mateo leans forward. “I wasn’t born with a team. I built it, and I can build it again. Because I may not be a genius from the future, or a genius from the present, or a well-educated dead person with centuries of experience. Gathering armies is my forte.”

She leans forward to match. “Bring it on.”

The Advancement of Mateo Matic: November 26, 2398

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Bhulan bolted as soon as the coast was clear. Leona and Ramses hoped that she would stick around to answer more questions, which they were prepared to ask gradually, instead of in the form of an interrogation, but she wasn’t into it. This is why Leona chose not to tell her anything about the seed of her plan to retrieve Mateo. She is probably on her way to her little secretive cabal to share information. That’s fine, as long as they don’t go anywhere near Lebanon. That is where Leona’s plan begins.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to go with you?” Ramses asks. They’re parked on the far side of Danica Lake, waiting for the sun to go down more.

“The fewer the better,” Leona replies with a shake of her head. “Standard transportation rules, you can only take two people with you.”

He nods.

“Besides, I’m sure you have to get back to the lab. I know you have a thousand things on the agenda.”

“Not really, now that Curtis is gone. I have no idea where he’s getting his temporal energy, or why The Officiant was able to just swoop in and disappear.”

“Then just rest,” Leona orders affectionately. “It’s been a hard...” Her first thought is to say that it’s been a hard week, but that doesn’t seem like enough, so she starts thinking about the whole month, but that’s not enough either. It’s been difficult since they first got here, but not just that. There’s only one reasonable way to put this. “...since however long we’ve known each other.”

He nods again. “Come on, Lys.”

“Be careful,” Alyssa says to Leona before she turns back towards the road. “I’m sorry I couldn’t be more helpful.”

“I don’t blame you for a thing,” Leona tells her honestly.

Once the two of them have gone, Leona climbs back into the Bridgette. She knocks on the bridge steps. “They’re gone.”

Marie opens the hatch, and crawls out. “I’m kind of surprised that he didn’t come here to check on his engine, or something.”

Leona shrugs. “The teleporter wasn’t necessary. Mateo is four and a half billion years in the past, there’s not exactly a sense of urgency.” She removes the floor plans from her bag, and unrolls them on one of the seats. They’re crude drawings based on what they were able to gather while they were down there for a brief time, but not official, and absolutely not to scale.

“Regular paper; old school,” Marie muses.

“Computers can be hacked. I’ll burn these pages.” She points at the plans as she’s discussing them. “Okay, the Bridgette reported still having trace amounts of chlorine in its systems, which most likely means that Mateo and Alyssa came up in one of the pools. Technically, two of them are big enough to hold this thing, but I’m guessing they appeared in the Olympic-size one. That’s right here. If we appear in the same one, Alyssa will probably have already been sent to the Mariana Trench. Well, the trench won’t exist yet, but...I don’t know how Danica does it, but the point is that the past version of our sub will be out of our way. If it is there, we’ll either be floating right next to it, or we’ll end up over here. It’s smaller, but still large enough to accommodate this whole thing. ”

“Okay, and where do I want to go?”

“Energy generation chamber. I think they called it The Cave. It’s made of partially naturally walling, because of how the vibrations work. Ramses explained this before. A long-ass tube runs from the Constant, all the way down near the core of the planet, and generates energy from the gravitational differences between the bottom of the tube and the top. Due to the magnetic field, if you’re in that room, the artificial intelligence that runs the facility won’t be able to detect your presence. If you can teleport there on the sly, and do it immediately upon our arrival in the past, I believe that the system will just think the temporal energy you use to do it is just residual energy from that arrival. Does that make sense?”

“You want the time travel to mask my jump to the energy room, and then you want me to hide in there so the AI can’t see me. Got it.”

“Right.”

“Then what do I do?”

Leona sighs. “Danica Matic is powerful because of how old she is, but back then, she won’t be that old. She’ll really just be another person, without access to all that knowledge. So what I want you to do is be your badass self...eventually.”

“Eventually, like how long?”

Leona removes a box of this reality’s version of meal bars from her bag. “These will last a normal person a month. Due to Ramses’ upgrades, you should be able to stretch them out to about a year. So all you have to do is hide in there somewhere for that long, and then you can come out after their guard is down.”

“See, that’s my problem,” Marie says. “You talked about how little power Danica will have back then, but Bhulan is a different story. Plus, we think Dalton was there...”

“I don’t think Dalton will be there yet,” Leona says. “I think he shows up later. His is not an important religion, suggesting marginal connection to the original ones.”

“Okay,” Marie says.

“I can’t promise that we’ll win, or that things will turn out okay. You might get caught immediately. But I don’t think you’re going to get hurt, or I wouldn’t send you in. These are not our enemies, they’re just...being dicks right now.”

“I understand. Let’s do it.”

“Okay.” Leona goes over to the controls, and commands the Bridgette to roll itself into the lake, and submerge. They start to float around, looking for signs of temporal energy, or anything of note. They don’t know exactly where to go, so they’re trying everything. Whatever portal first sent Mateo and Alyssa into the past was probably not placed there on purpose, making it a bug of sorts. It’s not just a bug, but something called a heisenbug, which is one that is unreliable to reproduce. The conditions that led to it happening the first time may no longer be present, or maybe it was just a one time thing, and the portal has since closed. It would require tons of temporal energy, and that may be all there was left.

A few hours later, they have scoured the whole bottom of the lake, and investigated every nook and cranny. Nothing has happened. No portals, no spikes in temporal energy. They don’t want to give up, so they decide to try again from the beginning. Leona commands the Bridgette to surface, and that’s when everything changes. They’re no longer in the lake, but the middle of outer space.

“Should I teleport now?” Marie asks as they’re staring at the stars below them.

“No, definitely not.”