The Advancement of Mateo Matic: August 4, 2517

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The wedding was going to be a lot smaller than the last one, and much more intimate. When Mateo and Leona married in the replica of The Colosseum on Tribulation Island, over 48,000 people attended. This was at the behest of Arcadia Preston, who was forcing them to marry. It wasn’t that they didn’t love each other, but it wasn’t on their terms, so the event would always have that asterisk next to it. This was their choice. The two of them wanted to marry Olimpia, and she them. Hrockas assumed that they would want to choose a venue in Party Central, but they weren’t really interested in that. Sure, it had plenty of options. It could be indoors or outdoors, rustic or modern, big or small. But they wanted something different; something special. They chose Mythodome for Olimpia’s affinity for fantasy stories. It wasn’t the safest dome on the planet, but it was a lot of fun, and one of the more interesting ones. They also came up with a system to protect the ceremony from outside interference. Thanks to a program which Hrockas instituted, the wedding party shouldn’t have to worry about it.

Mateo, Leona, and Olimpia were getting dressed in their fancy stylish outfits in front of a wall of mirrors, the former in the middle. She was working and reworking her hair. “Where are we again?”

“Hall of Hephaestus,” Leona answered, straightening the collar of her dress. “You don’t have to keep doing it manually. Here.” She took Olimpia’s hand, and placed her palm on the glass. She turned it to the right, prompting the image to change. Olimpia still looked like herself, but her skirt was now a pale mint green.

“Ugh,” Olimpia said. “Pastels are not my colors.”

“It’s somewhere in your subconscious,” Leona explained. “I’m not making the image change. You are. It’s powered by your intuition, so just imagine what you want to look like, and this will show you.”

“Done.” Mateo playfully adjusted his bowtie.

“Great,” Leona replied sarcastically. She faced Olimpia again. “I like your hair the way it is, but if you want to change it, find your preference in the mirror, and we’ll ask Medusa to style it for real.”

Olimpia laughed. “This place is wild.”

“Hey, guys, look. I have cold feet.” Mateo was playing around with the Protean glass now too, making it look like he was standing on the snow and ice. Actually, it was probably Jotunheim.

The gigantic doors to their left opened up. Angela walked in and approached them. “I don’t want you to be mad. Romana is considering this to be her wedding gift to her father, but she doesn’t know how you’ll take it, so just...be nice.”

Mateo stepped away from his mirror. “What did she do?”

“We met two twins called the Ashvins. I don’t know how they did it, but they seem to have retroverting abilities.”

“What?” As Mateo was trying to figure out how he was going to react, Romana walked in, but it was unlike how he knew her. She was about seven or eight years old. It was quite alarming. “Romy! What a surprise!” He still didn’t know how he should feel about this.

“Before you freak out,” Romana began, “this is temporary. I just wanted to be a flower girl, instead of a flower woman.”

“I didn’t want you to change for me,” Mateo contended. That was all right to say to her, right? Right?

“I know, but you had a little ring bear at your first wedding, and I just think this will give it a better look. You’re not mad, are you?”

“No, of course not,” Mateo replied. Yeah, that was definitely the right thing to say. He stepped over to hug his little girl. “I never got to see you like this. It’s a lovely gesture, and we appreciate it.”

“This is just for you,” Romana said. “You each get your own gift. Them’s the rules.”

“We don’t need gifts at all,” Leona reasoned.

“Then you don’t need to get married,” Romana volleyed, playfully, but still trying to win the argument, since they were getting gifts, whether they wanted them or not.

“Thank you very much, little girl,” Olimpia joked. “Do you need to go potty before the ceremony?”

“It will wear off,” Romana reminded her with a frown. “I do have to go get my basket, though.” She spun around a few times like a ballerina before hopping away.

“Kind of wish it wouldn’t,” Mateo admitted. “...wear off, that is.”

“She’s still your baby,” Leona assured him.

Magnolia walked in from the other—smaller—door on the other side of the room. “Hey, wadya’ll still doin’ here? We gotta keep things moving. Where are your other escorts?”

“I believe Ramses is inventing a gift for us,” Mateo answered.

“We don’t have time for that. Gifts later. Chop-chop,” Magnolia insisted.

“Your hair,” Leona said.

Olimpia changed the mirror back to being a true reflection. “You’re right, I’ll keep it as it is. Let’s get out there.”

Angela stuck her elbow out, and let Olimpia take it. Even though it was only the three of them who were getting married, everyone on the team was involved. While Romana was throwing flowers on the ground before them, they all walked down the aisle together. Angela was escorting Olimpia, followed by Ramses with Leona, and Marie with Mateo. This wasn’t their version of a father giving away her daughter, but an expression of the love that they all shared for each other, and a reinforcement of their bond. No chief attendants, nor honor attendants; just seven people up there to advance their dynamic in a loving and meaningful way.

The Officiant was officiating, having already conducted her compatibility meeting earlier this morning. All of their closest family and friends were in the audience. Gavix was here too, as he had invited himself years ago, having known that it was coming. Three invitees weren’t in their seats, but up and about. Mythodome was an unpredictable, and potentially dangerous, place. Mythological creatures and figures from all sorts of cultures were basically tossed into a melting pot. Their customs and responsibilities were often naturally contradictory, and so a new culture emerged. There were different types of beings with the same name, for instance, coexisting here in as much harmony as anyone could expect to find. There were political alliances, and tensions threatening to break them apart. Individuals had their own motivations and agendas. Learning any given mythology wouldn’t help you all that much here. Not even studying them all would do a whole lot of good. The combination of these disparate and diverse customs created something new. A unique civilization was taking shape, and not everyone would be pleased to hear about the wedding. They chose to hold it in Takamagahara. Not only was it gorgeous and serene, but on an upper level of the dome, and not somewhere that just anyone could travel to.

To protect them from outside interference by troublemaking locals, they conscripted the help of Kallias Bran, Aeolia Sarai, and Jesimula Utkin. Everyone on Team Matic was what Hrockas decided to call a Regent. For programmed intelligences who were not cognizant that they were living in a simulation, a Regent could essentially control them. If a manticore, for instance, made their way here, and started trying to eat the guests, a Regent could simply command them to stop. The manticore wouldn’t understand why it had to obey such commands, but it would do so without question, and leave if asked. Since all Regents were part of the wedding party, they asked their friends to take on the role temporarily. They chose these three to be proxy regents because they could be trusted, they lived here, and they wouldn’t feel left out for not technically being part of the wedding. They also all knew how to protect themselves, in case their commands didn’t work. Nothing should go wrong, but if it did, they would be here to insulate the event from attack, or just from being bothered by a trickster god, or a kitsune.

The vows were about to begin when they heard a commotion in the back. “Stop! Stop, stop, stop, stop!” Jesi cried.

There was nothing that she could do, though. A man with wings soared over them in the air, swung around, and landed off to the right side of the little stage.

Kallias jogged up, and placed himself between the man and the wedding party. “Get out of here right now.”

The man chuckled, and dismissively said, “please. That doesn’t work on me.” He lifted a perfume bottle up, and sprayed it in Kallias’ face, causing him to fall down to his side. “Fear not,” the stranger said when some in the audience started to get defensive, particularly Darko. “He is only asleep. My name is Daedalus, and I run this dome.” He looked around at their surprised faces. “That’s right, I am aware of the dome. Did you think I wouldn’t notice? If you walk far enough in any direction, you will hit a wall that looks like a sky. Do not worry, however, as I have not told anyone else. I am not here to cause trouble. It is actually to my benefit that I should be the only one to understand what this world truly is. But my silence and compliance does not come without a price. Two, actually. Number one, I insist on respect, and a formal recognition of my authority over these lands, internally speaking. To prove to me that I have it, you must ask for my blessing to allow these nuptials to continue.”

Mateo didn’t remember much from his western civilization class, but he remembered that Daedalus wasn’t an evil guy, and he definitely remembered Leona’s Rules for Time Travel. There was no reason to antagonize this guy, whether he was an antagonist, or otherwise. “Kind sir, Daedalus. May we have your blessing to marry?”

Daedalus was a bit shocked at how easy it was, and how quickly he received a positive reaction. “You have my blessing.”

“I thank you.”

“What is your second condition?” Darko pressed. He was still ready to take action.

Daedalus smirked. “I’ll let you get on with it. You’ll find out later.” He spread his wings, jumped into the air, and flew away.

“Wow, that was weird,” Marie noted.

“Sorry, guys,” Olimpia said.

“You didn’t make him do that,” Leona replied. “This is a lovely place to hold the ceremony. I couldn’t have chosen somewhere better. Go on, Officiant.”

The Officiant opened her mouth to continue, but a small wooden box suddenly fell from the sky, and landed in the grass. “Wedding gift!” Daedalus shouted down to them.

Ramses pointed his fist at the box. Part of his suit emerged into what looked like a weapon. He fired one laser shot at the box, and it disappeared.

“Did you just destroy that?” Mateo questioned.

“Teleporter gun. I placed it in quarantine in one of my pocket dimensions. We’ll worry about it afterwards. Please, proceed. No more interruptions.”

There weren’t any other interruptions. The vows were relatively short, despite there being three people getting married today. Both Mateo and Leona were relieved to have the chance to make up for their less than stellar speeches at their previous wedding. They really took the time to make sure they came up with beautiful and profound words. They were older and more experienced now, and not feeling Arcadia’s pressure, so that had a lot to do with their success. Olimpia’s vow was just as lovely. Once it was over, Magnolia had the audience stand up, and move off to the back. She generated her black hole portals under all of the chairs, spiriting them a few meters away, so they were each now circling tables. The center area was now a dance floor, which everyone was able to begin crossing within seconds.

People were eating and dancing during the reception, and enjoying the incredible views. Kallias woke up near the beginning of it, feeling rested and energized, and ready to get back to work. He and the other proxy regents apologized for not being able to stop Daedalus from breaching the perimeter, but really, what were they gonna do? He had wings, and was reportedly a genius. Mateo tried to have fun at the party, but he couldn’t think about anything but that little wooden box. What was inside? What could it possibly be? In their world, you could fit an entire universe in there, but surely Daedalus had his limitations. Surely he didn’t know anything about that stuff. He was programmed to be familiar with ancient times, and to only be ahead of his peers from that frame of reference. “Man, I gotta see what’s in there.”

“I wouldn’t,” Ramses argued. “I’ve been scanning it, but it’s shielded. Whatever it is, it’s not something you would expect to find in Ancient Greece. Since magic isn’t real, a guy like Daedalus should still be working within the laws of normal physics.”

“If he knows about the dome, maybe he knows about temporal manipulation, and the like. He’s not the real Daedalus, since the real Daedalus didn’t exist. Correct?”

“You think that’s a better reason to open it, Matt?”

“Come on, it’s my special day,” Mateo insisted.

“Oh...you can play that card once. It won’t work tomorrow.”

“I don’t need to play it tomorrow. I’m playing it right now.”

Ramses turned his hand, and apported the box into it. “Open at your own peril.”

“You’re here too. So is everyone else.” They both looked over at the party-goers, and thought better of it simultaneously. Without speaking, they teleported a few hundred meters away, to the middle of a meadow. Mateo took a breath and opened the lid of the box. Some sort of something or other that moved too quickly to spot flew out of the inside, and latched itself onto Mateo’s chest. It spread like nanites, wrapping itself around his chest, with the two ends meeting each other in the center of his back. They continued to spread from there, though Mateo obviously couldn’t see. Suddenly, wings appeared from behind him, and spread out to the side. “Hell yeah!”

“Hell yeah!” Ramses agreed.

“Hell yeah!” they repeated in unison.

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The Fourth Quadrant: Bag of Rocks (Part II)

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Selma and Andrei volunteer to become Pryce Tree’s human agents, as does Andrei’s love interest, Ayata. The two of them have not yet defined their relationship, but they are definitely some sort of couple. Ayata’s boss, Cosette doesn’t want her to go, but the tree needs a team of three people for safety reasons, and no one else is stepping up. It’s not like the others won’t be doing anything. If they’re going to live in the Garden Dimension, then they’re expected to contribute. Princess Honeypea will have them working with the plants, making sure they’re healthy and happy. She’s excited to have this many people around all at once. It’s a rare sight. These organisms aren’t for show, only for their own preservation. Selma thinks that it’s a bit weird, but the people who run this place seem to think that protecting the otherwise extinct strains is inherently valuable, whether anyone is around to enjoy them or not.

The three agents are asked to wade through the water, halfway across the conflux of the rivers, and onto the dry land on the other side. They expected it to be quite cold, but it’s the perfect temperature, and actually quite relaxing, even as they’re moving through it at a fairly quick pace. They continue to walk in the same direction over the prairie until they come to a door on the side of a hill. They ring the doorbell, as instructed, but instead of receiving a vocal response, the door opens on its own. They follow the steps down into what looks like a bunker. It’s a bit eerie, but only because they don’t exactly know what’s going on; not because anything feels nefarious.

A woman in a lab coat is sitting on a stool behind a counter with her back to them. She’s working on something that they can’t see. She spins around, and pushes her steampunk goggles up to her forehead. “Can I help you?”

“We were told to come here. Are we in the right place?” Andrei asks.

“I dunno. Who told you?”

“The...tr—tree.”

“Ah, yes. If that’s what it said, that’s what it meant.” The scientist removes her goggles altogether, and pulls off her gloves. She grabs an earpiece from the table between them, and sticks it in her ear, but has to hold it in place. “I have three people here?” She listens to a response. “Full tack?” She waits again. “Well, what is their objective?” More waiting. “I could give them the nanosuit implants that Ramses Abdulrashid invented in the main sequence. That would be superior.” Only a few seconds this time. “Okay, then. I’m on it.” She sets the earpiece back down.

“What is a nanosuit?” Ayata asks, intrigued.

“She also said implants. I’m not up for that,” Selma contends.

“You’re not authorized for them anyway,” the scientist lady says. She reaches out. “My name is Weaver. I don’t work for the Garden Dimension, per se, but they let me work out of here, and in exchange, I use some of my technology to protect this world from external threats. I’m told that you’re to receive tactical gear for recon—and possibly offensive—missions. I can tell you how the gear works, and how to use it, but I’m guessing that you’ll be meeting with Captain Montagne for the rundown of your responsibilities. I’m also assuming that Eight Point Seven will be your pilot.”

“Is that someone’s name?” Andrei questions. “Eight Point Seven?”

“It is. Please don’t interrupt me.” She steps around the table, and heads towards an open doorway. “Right this way.” She leads them down the dim hallway, which automatically lights up before them, then dims again behind. A door opens up for her, and they walk into a locker room. She points. “Lav through there, booths for privacy if you need them. You can put your old clothes in one of these bags, and take them with you, or just find an empty locker. Follow the instructions to designate an access code, and leave them here. These big lockers here will have everything you need. It will be obvious how to put the clothing on. You don’t have to look in the packs right now. I’ll train you on them once you’re ready, which we’ll do in the briefing room across the hall.” She goes back through the door to leave them to it. “Whenever you’re ready.”

They’re all friends here, so they don’t use the privacy booths. Once they’re finished getting dressed, they look like bona fide soldiers, and Selma is worried about stolen valor. They aren’t wearing any sort of rank indicators, or whatever, but it still feels disrespectful. She is a civil servant and a leader, not a fighter. What the hell has she gotten herself into? They grab their packs from the bottom of their lockers, and walk over to the briefing room. Weaver has all the contents that are in their own bags laid out on the demonstration table. It’s like a spy movie. She goes over every item, no matter how obvious or mundane, including the extra socks, and firestarter.

“But you don’t know where we’re going, or what we’re gonna be doing?” Selma presses.

“I have no clue,” Weaver admits. “I found out where you’ll be conducting your training, and it won’t be here, but other than that, they’ve told me nothing.”

The faint image of the magnolia tree appears on the other side of the room. Pryce Tree steps out of it as if it were a door, and lets it fade away behind him. “Are you all ready to go?”

“We’re doing training?” Andrei asks him to confirm.

“You didn’t think we were just gonna throw you out there with nothing, did you?” Pryce Tree laughs. “We’re not monsters. You never answered my question.”

This is all very overwhelming, but no one says anything out loud. They just exchange looks, and it’s clear that none of them was prepared for what they were getting themselves into. They should have asked for more information before raising their hands. It doesn’t matter, though, because it’s done. They’re certainly not going to back out now, and saddle someone else with this responsibility. They each nod, and let the magical tree spirit them away.

They’re standing in front of a man in a dojo. He’s wearing robes, and no shoes or socks. He’s cycling through a deck of note cards, presumably trying to learn or memorize something. “I’ll be with you in a second.” He keeps pulling the top card out, and slipping it back into the back. He does a few more before he comes to a stopping point. He checks his watch. “My name is Darko—”

“Heh,” a woman sitting in the corner interrupts him.

Darko rolls his eyes. “For the sake of consistency, I have been asked to change my designation. In the spirit of cooperation with my gracious hosts, you may call me Prince Darko. That’s not my real name. It’s a holdover from an old reality where I was a little less...conscientious. That over there is my apprentice, Jesimula Utkin. Don’t worry about what she thinks.”

“Uh, he’s teaching me taekwondo,” Jesimula corrects. “I know how to fight, I’m just expanding my repertoire.”

“Don’t you have an away mission to prepare for?” Darko asks her.

“It’s a wellness check on New Welrios,” Jesimula explains. “They don’t want me there.”

“I understand the sentiment.”

Jesimula sticks her tongue out like a child, but then leaves.

“Sorry about that. We’re still learning to get along, but we don’t hate each other. As I was saying, I’m Prince Darko Matic—”

“Are you related to Mateo or Leona?” Andrei asks him.

“He’s my half-brother,” Prince Darko answers. “You didn’t get any background info before you came here, did you?”

“We have no idea where we are, or what we’ll be doing,” Selma says.

“What are your names?” Darko asks.

“I’m Andrei Orlov. This is Selma Eriksen, and the lovely and beguiling, Ayata Seegers.”

Darko narrows his eyes at them, but specifically at Ayata. “Seegers.” He starts cycling through his note cards again until he finds what he’s looking for. Hartwin Seegers.”

Ayata is very surprised to hear this. “That’s my grandfather.”

Darko nods. “He served as a tactician in a covert outfit known as SD-6 in the Third Rail. Were you aware of that?”

“We were aware that...he did something,” Ayata acknowledges. “He died a few years ago, before he ever got into specifics.”

“One of his teammates lives here, Kivi Bristol. Would you like to meet here?” It looks like Darko is about to make a call through his watch.

“That’s okay,” Ayata answers quickly.

“Very well.” Darko nods again. “Moving on, I was asked to teach you basic well-rounded combat skills, as well as introductory use of firearms, and common weapons. I was told that this is time-sensitive, which is a little strange since you’re apparently from the past. But I’m not gonna argue with a sentient tree, so I’ll be taking you through my intensive program.” He reaches down to the bench behind him, and lifts the seat to retrieve three mesh bags. He drops one at each of their feet. “These are your bags of rocks. You’ll notice that there’s only one rock in there right now. This represents your lack of skill. Go ahead and pick up your bags,” he directs as if they should have known to do that unprompted. “You will keep your bag with you at all times. You’ll sleep with it, and you’ll shower with it, and when I ask you to run five kilometers, you’ll lug it around the track with you. When you screw up, you get a new rock. When you fail to meet time, you get a new rock. When you talk back to me... That’s right, new rock. Luckily, I’m a merciful teacher. When you do something well, I’ll take a rock back. At the end of your training, the person with the lightest bag wins. I’ll tell you precisely what you win when we cross that bridge. Any questions so far?”

Andrei holds up a hand, but doesn’t wait to be called upon. “Are they weighted? Are major screw-ups awarded by a heavier rock?”

Darko salutes facetiously. “Major Screw-up. Yes, a heavier rock means you failed miserably. A pebble would just be a tiny little mistake.” He pulls a smallish rock out of his robe pocket, steps forward, and slips it into Andrei’s bag.

“What’s this for? Did I already mess up?”

“I just kinda don’t like your voice.” Darko drops another small rock into his bag.

Without a hint of anger, Andrei fiddles with his watch, and then lifts it up to his lips. “How’s this?” he asks, using technology to replicate Darko’s voice instead.

Darko drops a third rock in his bag for a total of four. “I don’t like people mimicking my voice either.” He went back to his place before them. “This was your first lesson. I am the Keeper of the Rocks. I decide what constitutes an addition or subtraction, and there will be no arguing with me about it. I literally asked for questions, so he didn’t technically do anything wrong, but I’m the boss, and I reserve the right to change or reinterpret the rules without even telling you. Any other questions?”

Silence.

“Good, that means you’re learning.” Darko takes two rocks out his pocket, dropping one in Selma’s bag, and the other in Ayata’s. “These are just because it’s Tuesday. All right. Clip those around your waists, and let’s get to it.” He claps his hands, and walks over to slide open a door to another room, which seems to be a boxing gym.

They’re afraid to ask, but come to learn after a few days that this intensive program is set to last three weeks. They run the gamut for basic training. They do weightlifting, cardio exercise, self-defense, boxing, martial arts, weapons safety, marksmanship, and mindfulness. None of them is an elite superspy when they’re done, but they feel stronger and more prepared than they were when this all began. It is Selma who ends up the winner with zero rocks left in her bag. She doesn’t question it when Darko reaches over, and plants a sticker of a smiling sun on her chest. That’s it, that’s the grand prize. And it’s more than enough. For now. She decides that she doesn’t really want to go on any missions. She wants to keep learning.

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Microstory 1916: Partners No More

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Fugitive Agent 2: Where have you been, man? We’re supposed to be partners.

Fugitive Agent: I’m on special assignment. I sent you a text, and the OSI should have sent Senior Fugitive Agent an email about it.

Fugitive Agent 2: Yeah, and she’s presently working on a replacement partner, but I wanted to speak with you in person. What is this assignment? What are you doing?

Fugitive Agent: I’m looking for the escapees.

Fugitive Agent 2: That’s what we were doing...together. Why am I being reassigned?

Fugitive Agent: I’m sorry, man. I gotta do this. I’m just here to pick up my stuff. The road is gonna be my office for the foreseeable future.

Fugitive Agent 2: You saw something.

Fugitive Agent: What?

Fugitive Agent 2: OSI asked for a meeting, and then suddenly we don’t work together anymore. What did they show you? What exactly are they asking you to do?

Fugitive Agent: I can’t talk about it, Fugitive Agent 2. I really am sorry. I gotta go.

Fugitive Agent 2: No, that’s not good enough for me.

Fugitive Agent: Let go of my arm.

Fugitive Agent 2: Hey, it’s cool. We’re cool. No need to give me that tone, or that look.

Fugitive Agent: What tone? What look?

Fugitive Agent 2: You’re treating me like one of our fugitives. You always say that there’s a line between us and them, and now it feels like you’ve drawn a new line, and left me on the wrong side of it.

Fugitive Agent: That was not my intention, I’m just trying to do my job.

Fugitive Agent 2: Your new job with OSI. I read the brief—or what was left of it after the redactors got their hands on it. The Fugitive Service has nothing to do with it anymore. When I said I was reassigned, I meant the whole department. Who are those detainees, and what makes them so important? This should be an open and shut case.

Fugitive Agent: I don’t know what to tell ya. That’s above my paygrade, same as you. I just go where I’m told, and right now, I’ve been told to go in deep.

Fugitive Agent 2: In deep? You’re undercover?

Fugitive Agent: I didn’t say that.

Fugitive Agent 2: But you are..undercover.

Fugitive Agent: You need to stop asking questions. I can’t protect you anymore.

Fugitive Agent 2: What the hell is that supposed to mean?

Fugitive Agent: You remember last fall; those kids from Baltimore?

Fugitive Agent 2: That wasn’t my fault. You didn’t lie for me. It was complicated.

Fugitive Agent: No, I didn’t lie, but I didn’t tell them the whole truth either. Now, I’m not threatening you. That goes to my grave, just like it was always going to. I’m just explaining that I can’t do those kinds of things for you anymore, and you can’t do them for me. You’re getting a new partner. Learn to trust them, and teach them to trust you. This is the nature of the business. We don’t always get to choose.

Fugitive Agent 2: Funny how you always seem to choose, and I always get screwed.

Fugitive Agent: Fugitive Agent 2. Fugitive Agent 2! Come on, don’t end it like this!

The Advancement of Mateo Matic: October 31, 2398

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They’re moving. They’re moving out of the lofts, and not just for their residential needs, but also for Ramses and Leona’s lab. This building was built to last, but it doesn’t belong to them anymore. They’re giving the whole thing to the new owners of Angela’s company to do with it what they will. Maybe they’ll expand, or rent out the upper floors. Or perhaps they’ll demolish the whole thing and replace it with a mini waterpark. Whatever they choose, it will have nothing to do with Team Matic. They should have known that something like this was going to happen. Their whole thing is an ephemeral, nomadic lifestyle. They don’t stay anywhere for too long. Best to not get attached.

A moving company is allowed to handle some of the generic equipment, like tables and beakers. The sensitive materials, however, must be done in house. Ramses is here today, directing Mateo and Alyssa on this task. They’re not in any sort of rush, though. The government-run lab where this will all be moving to is not quite ready for them. Well, the space itself is reportedly totally ready. Winona claims that they keep such future-use places primed in the event of an pandemic, or some other emergency need. That’s what’s holding up the opening process. They have to secure approval from about seven different departments to use one of them, because another emergency venue will have to be developed to replace it.

Mateo holds up a computer monitor stand. “This?”

“Green box, storage” Ramses responds.

“And this?”

“Also green box.”

“Should we really be trusting these people?” Alyssa questions. “I mean, consider everything that you did to make sure this place was yours, and not even the agency that gave it to you had access to it. All these lava lamps and security cameras. Now you’re just going to work in a place built by them, for them?”

“Yeah, I can see how strange that seems,” Ramses admits. “Past!Me probably wouldn’t understand, but things have changed. Our relationship with the government has changed.” They have already given them tons of data and technology so far that they never would have dreamed to do for any government in the main sequence. Trying to keep whatever’s left a secret seems futile at this point. A better facility is more important. “I would rather have unfettered access to an advanced mass spectrometer, and an MRI machine, than my own place. It’s time to grow the operation. I have a lot of things I want to do, and this new place gets me all that. Plus, I think it makes them happy, and we need to keep them on our side.”

Alyssa rubs a lava lamp like a genie might come out of it. “But I love these. I’ve grown accustomed to staring at them during my parking lot surveillance shifts.”

“Blue box,” Ramses says. “We’re taking them with us, not just for storage.”

“You will have some privacy, though, won’t you?” Mateo asks.

“Yes, that is the very first project on my list. They may think they’ll have free and full access to my work, but with the right resources, I can protect anything that we feel they don’t need to know about.”

“What resources will you need for that, and how will you be accomplishing it?”

“I need a submarine. We’re retrieving the AOC from the bottom of the ocean.”

The Advancement of Mateo Matic: October 1, 2398

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Nearly everyone is gone. Olimpia either doesn’t exist at the moment, or is trapped in a different reality. Trina lived in one alternate reality, and died in another. Alt!Mateo, the other Leonas, and Andille ended up who knows where, doing who knows what? Both Bridgette and Cheyenne are dead, as is Heath, though a duplicate doll of him remains. Marie is helping him learn how to function in Palmeria, using the expertise of a clinical neuropsychologist who specializes in rehabilitating patients with severe brain damage. He has never met someone with such an extreme case of cognitive incapacity, and was more than willing to move to a different country just for opportunity. Marie has agreed to let him write and publish a paper on his subject in exchange for anonymity and discretion. Vearden is on the island too, so the McIver boys, Carlin and Moray, aren’t alone. The eldest can take care of himself, and for the most part, his younger brother, but they need a trusted adult around, and Marie is pretty busy most of the time.

With Kivi and Arcadia—who is still in Leona Delaney’s body—now working with the tactical SD6 team in pursuit of Meredarchos, and other bad actors and missing persons, that only leaves five left in the Lofts. Mateo, Leona, Ramses, Angela, and Alyssa now attempt to fill the void once occupied by their friends. They’re finding it quite difficult. Angela’s apartment, which she used to share with Kivi, is clear on the other end of the floor, so she moved in with Alyssa right away. They tried to all eat together in the huge common area, but it’s so awkward with so few people. They’re probably going to start doing it in one of their unit’s from now on. Mateo had a thought to choose Ramses’ place, because he’s more likely to try to get out of meals to work downstairs, so always having to host might force him to take at least three breaks every day.

It’s almost midnight, and they’re still in Bridgette and Cheyenne’s old apartment. Everyone pitched in throughout the day, but Mateo and Alyssa led the effort to clean it out so it no longer reminds them of their failures. Now they’re sitting on the floor together, tossing garbage into an empty box, dwelling on those failures anyway. “We’re gonna have to do this for the condo too,” Alyssa points out. “We should sell it. Or you should sell it. Whoever owns it should sell it.”

“That’s up to Marie,” Leona says, “but yeah, it needs to be cleaned, at the very least. If Heath...or rather, if the new Heath ever learns how to function on his own, they may want to move back, and still stay out of all this stuff. Or since he died in there, she may never want to see it again. We don’t have to worry about that right now, though.”

“This was so stupid, I’m sorry,” Ramses says.

No one knows what he’s talking about. “You’re sorry? About what?” Mateo asks.

“This whole building. This was a dumb idea. There weren’t even that many people with us when we agreed to it. The McIvers were still in Utah, we hadn’t even heard of Bridgette and Cheyenne. Arcadia, Vearden, the other Leonas, Alt!Mateo, Andile? It’s like I knew these people would show up, but I didn’t know that they would leave us.”

“Honestly? I miss the AOC,” Angela adds. “It was small, but it had everything we needed. I took comfort in its efficiency.”

“This was your ship that you’re talking about?” Alyssa asks.

“Yeah, it was great,” Leona explains. “It only had three levels. The top was for facilities and microponics, and the bottom was engineering. The middle was for living. Instead of rooms, we slept in these things we called grave chambers in the floor. You couldn’t even stand up in them, but you could fit two people if you needed or wanted to.”

Ramses bites his upper lip. “We may be able to get it back,” Ramses claims.

“How?” Mateo questions. “We left it in the Fifth Division.”

“We left a copy of it there,” Ramses reveals. “I have another one in my pocket. I mean, I don’t have it right now. It was in my pocket, now it’s locked up in the lab.”

“I thought you couldn’t copy the ship,” Angela begins. “I thought you could only bring it back from a save state at a specific point in space where it once was. That’s why come Marie exists at all.”

“That was a bug, I figured it out,” Ramses says dismissively. I figured out how to save the ship in a pocket dimension on a device...in my pocket.”

“Why haven’t you brought this up before?” Leona asks in a captainly sort of way.

Ramses shrugs. “There’s no such thing as a free lunch. Reconstituting it in this reality would take a shit-ton of temporal energy. The tanks on the Olimpia can’t even fit the volume of Existence water we would need to take from the Bermuda Triangle.”

“Couldn’t you reconstitute it at the Bermuda Triangle?” Mateo offers.

“I guess so, if I thought it would help, but I also don’t know what the point would be,” Ramses laments. “The reframe engine requires a constant supply of temporal energy, as does the teleporter, and even if they didn’t, where would we go?”

“That’s true,” Leona agrees, nodding.

They sit in silence for a while.

“Well, what about the Olimpia?” Alyssa suggests.

“What about it?” Mateo presses.

“We could live there instead, if it’s cozier and efficient.”

“Yeah, I guess that could work,” Angela determines.

Leona and Ramses too think it’s a good idea.

“Wait, are we seriously talking about this?” Mateo questions. We have perfectly good apartments. Who cares if the other units aren’t occupied? When you rent your own apartment in a normal complex, do you think that much about how many neighbors you have? This place is great, we don’t need an alternative.”

“We do need a contingency, though,” Leona decides. “When we had all those people, there was nowhere to escape to, but now we can.”

“You can escape through me, because I’m a teleporter,” Mateo reminds her.

Leona bites her lower lip. “Did you happen to look at your watch the last time you teleported? I rode with you to take Vearden to Palmeria after your first two roundtrips.”

“Did I—no, why? Did you?”

Leona hesitates to explain, but she knows that she has to. “Yes, it took us five seconds to get from Kansas City to the island, and eight seconds to get back.”

“Okay...is that bad?”

“It’s teleportation, Mateo, it’s meant to be pretty much instantaneous.”

Mateo’s face drops. “Right. What does that mean? Am I losing my power?”

Ramses perks up. “You’re probably losing energy,” he postulates. “You’re losing temporal energy. That’s what happens in this reality, it just gets sucked away.”

“Well, how long do I have?”

“We need to run some tests on you.” Ramses replies. “I guess I know what my next project is now.”

The Advancement of Mateo Matic: August 29, 2398

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Mateo can’t shower himself. He can’t feed himself, he can’t clothe himself, he can’t even open doors. He has sent a number of random items to God-knows-where in an attempt to gain control over his newfound ability, but he’s confident in his assessment that he has been blessed with suck. He’s basically King Midas, except that at least that guy was surrounded by a bunch of gold. He can touch his own skin, which is a small miracle, but if he was able to transport himself, maybe he could find out where he’s banishing everything else. It might still be the key to finding Trina.

Leona has returned from the store, where she picked up a number of stylish vests for him to wear. He’s fine with pants, as long as someone helps them on, but shirts are a no-go. A single brush against the skin from his wrist to his tips, and it’s gone. Vests are really the only type of clothing with arm holes big enough to avoid an issue. But that is nothing compared to the humiliation of needing help going to the bathroom. He really had to go while his wife was out, and Marie was the only one around who he felt comfortable enough asking. She did so without complaint or awkward tension. “Are you mad?” he asks.

“That Marie helped you with your clothes?” Leona asks.

“Yeah.”

“Did you cheat on me?”

“Of course not!”

“Then of course not, I’m not mad. What kind of person do you think I am? If you were an amputee—or your hands were mutilated—we would probably have a nurse for you, who would be doing the same things.” She carefully gets the vest around him so he can stop walking around topless.

“That’s true, it’s just...”

“It’s just that we’re family, and we’re all here to help you get through this.”

He appreciates that, but he’s having trouble expressing it. He can’t really express anything right now but frustration, anxiety, and depression. Once Leona is finished, he plops back down on the chair, and hangs his arms over the armrests. It’s not very comfortable, but it keeps his midan hands away from everything. “Thank you.”

She frowns down at him, slouched there. “You know, this could be a blessing.”

“How so?”

She steps over to the table, and picks up a package they received earlier today. “This is our new shower mirror.”

“What does that have to do with anything?”

She removes the mirror from the box, and then tosses the box to him.

He instinctively reaches up to catch it, banishing it to the unknown. “Why did you just do that?” he questions.

“I’m your garbage man! I go across the land!” she sings as if that’s a song he’s meant to be familiar with.

“We don’t know where it went. We don’t know if it went to the same place as all the other stuff.”

“That’s why Ramses is in Lebanon.”

“He’s not going to find anything there.”

“We’re working on a way to get him into Russia. He’s just starting his field work closer to home. The Olimpia is almost ready to fly at optimum efficiency again.”

“He’s not going to find anything there either.”

“Mateo, that timonite sat there for upwards of millions of years without transporting anything anywhere. Otherwise, it would have destroyed the whole planet. Something has to be able to render it inert.”

“It was inert because it was sitting under immense pressure,” Mateo argues, “pressure which would vaporize my hand, if not straight up kill me. I unlocked it. I relieved that pressure. And I seriously doubt there is anything in the universe that can shield against bulk travel. There’s nothing anyone can do. Hope is a teardrop in the ocean. Once it falls, you’ll never find it again, but you may drown in the attempt.”

Leona nods. “I applaud you for your hypothesis that it remained inert due to the pressure. That’s not something the old Mateo would say.”

“Maybe Erlendr is controlling me psychically again.”

“Maybe.” She doesn’t believe that, but her own mind is somewhere else already. He’s right, they can’t recreate the pressure of the depths of an undug mine, but he’s wrong about there being no hope. There are others with the ability to travel the bulk, which means that they must have ways of controlling how that happens. They must have access to materials that react to it differently than normal baryonic matter. Maybe that’s neutrinos, maybe it’s dark matter, but whatever it is, it has to exist. There is only one place on Earth that might have it, and they weren’t planning on going there until the winter. Well, it’s in the southern hemisphere, so really, it’s more about it being summer at the destination. Hopefully it’s not just a main sequence location, because then they really might be searching for teardrops in the ocean.

“I know that look,” Mateo says. “You’ve come up with an idea.”

“I need to order a few more things,” Leona tells him with a smile. “I’ll have you throw out the boxes for me.”

“Gee, thanks.” He cracks a smile. “What do you need?”

“For one, a good winter coat. I hear Antarctica is freezing this time of year.”