Microstory 2503: Sibling of the Savior

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My brother, the hero. Yeah, it’s petty, but I can’t help but be annoyed by this. Obviously I love my brother, and obviously he’s doing good work, and obviously I shouldn’t be jealous. It’s hard, ya know, to live in the guy’s shadow. I’m older than him, and I’ve always been good at what I do. It’s not that I’m immediately great at everything I try. Well, it is, but not how you think. I’m good at everything I try, because I only try things that I know I’m gonna be good at. That’s my real skill, knowing myself so well. I can picture it in my mind, and if I imagine how it’s going to turn out, and if it’s no good, I simply won’t go down that road. I didn’t love growing up being more successful than my brother. I wanted him to succeed. I just didn’t know what it would look like once he finally did. People—total strangers—stop me on the street now. They all ask the same questions, about how I must be so proud, and also whether I have any magical powers too. No. No, I don’t. It’s not hereditary. He received them as gifts from other people. I’m not downplaying how important he’s become, but come on, I had nothing to do with it. Whoever these people were, they didn’t come to me. Why not? Well, we don’t have the whole story, but they didn’t seek Landis out either. He happened to be in the right place at the right time. It easily could have been anyone else who lived or worked in that area. I’m complaining a lot, I get it, it’s just annoying because I feel like I’ve addressed this in interviews, yet instead of actually doing their own research—which would take all of five minutes—they ask me again and again. And the jokes, oh the jokes. I’ve heard them all, and everyone thinks they’re so clever, like they’re the first to come up with them. Give me a break. I had a chance to live at the hotel with Landis. He wants me to. Our parents have their own suite. I just don’t want to be involved in all that. I’m sure they could use someone with my technical skills, but I’m happy where I’m working. They need me there. In fact, we still don’t know what this fabled panacea is going to do to the global economy yet. People like me need to stay where they are to keep the lights on once we conquer death, and people stop spending their money. Do you have any idea how much we spend on health? It drives the whole world, because the death rate has been at a steady 100% throughout all of human history. If the day comes that that changes, no one at that hotel is gonna be able to save you, or will even want to try. You’re gonna need people like me out here. Who will be your hero then? No, I shouldn’t end this on such a negative note. The truth is, that we have a decent relationship. I was always in his corner, and he in mine. We loved playing together as children, back when there was no pressure on either of us. It’s only when we grew up that things really started to get hard. I started feeling the need to be the best of the best, and he started getting discouraged when one little thing didn’t work out. I don’t regret anything, though, because we’re both happy now.

The Advancement of Mateo Matic: July 15, 2497

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Like a bunch of idiots, Team Matic lost the plot. Ramses and Leona were absorbed in trying to understand neutrinos, and everyone else was just relieved to have their friends back. They totally forgot the only question that mattered. Who was the scary neutrino monster, and how were trillions of neutrinos sentient? As simple of an explanation as there was for their profound overestimation of the intelligence of these subatomic particle clusters, that thing’s awareness of its surroundings could not be in doubt. It was shaped like a person. It moved like one, and at one point, it was reportedly trying to communicate. It had a mind of some kind, perhaps as a disembodied consciousness that attracted, or could control, the neutrinos, like Buddy. They had to go back to Dome 216 for more answers.

“It’s...gone,” Olimpia stated the obvious. They were standing in the space between domes, exposed to the harsh environment that was Castlebourne’s natural state. There should have been a geodesic dome here, but it was just a deep crater under open space. They didn’t know that it was going to be like this. Out of an abundance of caution, Mateo insisted on taking Romana back to Castledome for medical treatment. She was only exposed to the vacuum for a few seconds before her suit automatically formed itself around her to protect her, but she wasn’t expecting it, and could still be suffering from the effects. Hers wasn’t an upgraded substrate designed to withstand such deadly conditions unaided.

“This is it,” Leona said. “We’re where it once was. Hrockas completely destroyed it somehow.”

Ramses was checking his sensors. “No radiation, so he didn’t blow it up.”

“Could they have dismantled it?” Marie asked. “I mean, it’s been a whole year for everyone else.”

“Baudin could have taken the dome itself down relatively quickly,” Leona explained. “That’s not the problem. The question is what would have left this crater. Maybe they dug it out to be certain that all of those dark particles were gone.”

“We could go ask,” Angela offered.

“I already tried, we’ve been cut off,” Leona contended,

“What? Why?”

“It’s nothing personal,” Leona went on. “He just has to focus on the upcoming grand opening event. We’re no longer in the inner circle. We claimed to be leaving a few years ago, so he wasn’t expecting us to still be here.”

“So the neutrino monster is his problem now,” Marie decided, “and we can finally leave.”

“I still have questions,” Ramses complained.

Leona patted him on the shoulder. “You always will. This isn’t our home. We’ve overstayed our welcome, and we gotta go.”

They didn’t leave right away. Leona allowed Ramses to take some soil samples, and other residual readings. Everyone else on the team spent the rest of the day seeing their loved ones one last time. Mateo focused on his other two daughters, but also spent a little time with his once-parents, Aura and Mario, his once-brother, Darko, and Darko’s daughter, Dar’cy. She showed up a couple years ago, but never reached out to them, for whatever reason. They didn’t even know if she still had all her special powers, which Dubra lost when her consciousness was transferred to her new body.

Goodbyes were always hard, and they never seemed to last long enough, but at some point, they just had to decide that it was over. They congregated on the outside of Ramses’ lab. To protect it, he trapped it in a temporal bubble, sunk it into the ground, and disguised it as an unremarkable rock formation. These weren’t holograms, but solid objects. People knew that it was around here somewhere, but perhaps they would forget precisely where, and after being unable to find it, give up, and move on. Or they would indeed make their way into the rooms, and cause some damage. The team couldn’t live their lives in the what-ifs, so they washed their hands of it, and teleported away.

They were floating in orbit now. Well, they weren’t really in orbit. They were just fully outside the atmosphere, and in freefall. Since they had no means of propulsion, they would eventually burn up in the atmosphere and die if they didn’t leave. They could hang here for a moment, though, and admire the planet from such an amazing vantage point.

“Do you think we’ll ever come back here?” Romana asked. She was all better now. Space exposure was an easy fix these days.

“It’s almost inevitable,” Ramses mused. “We always go back.”

“Really?” When’s the last time you were in Egypt?”

Ramses pointed. “I think that’s Giza.” It was impossible to tell from this elevation, but it could have indeed been the replica of the Great Pyramids that Baudin built under one of the domes.

Some of them chuckled. Then they continued to fall, and watch the ground get just a little bit closer. “Y’all ready for this?” Leona asked, knowing that they didn’t have much time left before it became unsafe even for them.

“I’ve been running diagnostics on the tandem slingdrives,” Ramses said. “They look good. We’re in the violet.”

“Okay,” Leona said. “Yalla.”

They decided to follow through with their plan to fly blindly by merely activating the slingdrives, and letting it send them wherever. They weren’t going to navigate, or think about where they wanted to go. They wanted fate to take over, come what may. The web of technicolors formed around them, and sent them away.

They emerged from the quintessence cocoon in a room. It was dark, with the only lights appearing over what looked like an altar on the far wall. There were other objects around them, like tables and glass cases, but it was hard to make anything out. There weren’t any dark particles flying around them, though, so they were presumably not in the neutrino dimension again. Ramses looked at his arm interface. “Atmosphere: Earth perfect. No toxins detected.” He collapsed his helmet back into his neck. Everyone followed suit, so to speak.

As soon as they were exposed to the air, an alarm blared, and a red light flashed. They all passed out at the same time, and fell to the floor.

Mateo Matic woke up in his bed. He gently lifted the blanket and sheets off of his body so he wouldn’t wake up his wife, but it was too cold in the room. Most women preferred it to be warmer than men, but Leona was the opposite. She kept turning the thermostat down. Part of him thought that maybe she did it so he wouldn’t sneak out of bed every morning. She was right about that. He quivered, and put the covers back down. Five more minutes wasn’t gonna hurt anyone. Besides, what was the boss gonna do? Fire him? He was the boss!

Leona groaned and turned over. When she saw that her husband was still there, she smiled and nuzzled his neck. Then she grabbed him by the shoulders. “I’ve trapped you!”

“Oh no!” he cried jokingly. “What can I do to escape you?”

“Kiss me.”

He kissed her.

She took her lips off of his, and tilted her head all the way back away from. “No! I know what that kiss means! That’s a goodbye kiss!” she complained.

He really did have to go. He was onboarding a new assistant today, and needed some time to get some actual work done before she came in. They didn’t make him Fleet Commander of the Central Midwest because he couldn’t make it to his destinations on time. “I promise to be home in time for dinner.”

“Good. Romana’s cooking, and she’ll be disappointed if you don’t make it.”

“I’m sure it’ll be great.” He gave her another goodbye kiss, then jumped out of bed, shivering all the way into the bathroom.

Once he was finished getting ready, he ran downstairs to catch his ride. Of course, as the big man on campus, he could absolutely afford his own car, but he wanted to support his own business, and stay in touch with his people. He always called a driver so the public would know that he believed in his company. He wasn’t famous, per se, but if he were ever to be interviewed—say, by the local news—hopefully this would help his image. He didn’t know, maybe it was stupid, but it was important to him.

“Dad, you’re missing breakfast again.”

“Sorry, I gotta go. Boyd M. is coming, and you know how obsessed he is with his q stats.”

“Wait, give me a kiss,” Romana urged, tapping her own cheek.

When he leaned it to kiss her, she faked him out, and stuffed a piece of toast in his mouth. “Thanks, honey,” he said, grabbing it with his hand so it wouldn’t fall to the floor.

“Most important meal of the day!” she said as she was running back off to the kitchen. “Your tea is by the door!”

Mateo’s watch dinged. “Thanks again!” He ran outside to find Boyd M.’s car waiting for him on the street, next to the driveway.

“Hi, neighbor!” It was one of the Walton twins, digging around in her flowers. Actually, they were his flowers, but she had a lot of time on her hands, so he never complained about her crossing the property line. He could never tell her apart from her sister, mostly because they lived together, always matched their outfits, and acted like the same woman. If he hadn’t ever seen them both at the same time, he would think she was just a crazy person who sometimes wanted to be called a different name.

“Hi...you.”

“Say hi to me too!” the other twin asked after appearing from behind a bush.

“Hi to me too!” Mateo joked. He walked over to the car, and shook his head. “We talked about this, Boyd. You’re only gonna be here for thirty seconds. Park in the driveway. If someone needs you to move, you move!”

“Your door is on the left side of your driveway,” Boyd defended. “Studies have shown that they prefer to step into our cars from the passenger side.”

“Okay, I personally don’t care about walking around, but a solution would be to take a moment to back in.”

“You got it, boss.”

“Great.” He opened the front door, and climbed in. A regular customer wouldn’t do this, but Boyd was his employee. They needed to be on the same level here. It was about respect. Speaking of which, Mateo noticed that Boyd was looking around Mateo’s head, back at the house. Mateo turned to see the curtain in the parlor fall back into place. “She’s sixteen,” he reminded him.

“What? I was just admiring your flowers. Tulips?” Boyd cleared his throat uncomfortably, and began to drive away.

“Daisies.”

The regional RideSauce branch wasn’t too far away. Once he secured this promotion, Mateo could pretty much live wherever he wanted within this region, and they would find affordable office space to accommodate him. Not every region had a local office, but it was growing in popularity in recent years. That was what set them apart from their competitors. They only had corporate offices. They didn’t care about their drivers, and never reached out to the communities. Their drivers weren’t even considered real employees, but contractors. There was this whole lawsuit surrounding the status of their personnel, which cost these other companies millions. RideSauce managed to avoid all of that by treating their workers with the respect they deserved from the very beginning. It was why they were now number one in this country, as well as in many others. Boyd stopped in front of the door, and let him out.

“Thanks! Five stars!” Mateo found his new hire waiting at the door. “Miss Sangster, you’re early.”

“If you’re early, you’re on time; if you’re on time, you’re late; if you’re late, you’re fired.”

Mateo smiled as he was starting to unlock the door. “We don’t operate like that here. We’re more chill. But I appreciate the initiative.”

Before he could manage to unlock the door, it opened. His engineer, Ramses was on the other side. “You’re a bit late, boss.”

“Then I guess I’m fired.” He gave Olimpia wink. “Come on in.”

Before this, Olimpia was living in Lincoln, Nebraska. Until today, they had only ever spoken on video chat. So she needed a tour of the offices. It didn’t take long. He took it seriously, but still casually. “This is the congregation area, where we can talk to drivers if there are any questions, comments, or concerns. This is the front desk, you’ll probably spend a lot of time here. Kitchenette to the right, bathroom to the left.” He gave her the side-eye. “Sorry, there’s only one, but there are only three of us, so we should be fine. That back there is the server room, which is Ramses’ workspace, and that’s my cubicle. There’s technically a basement, but we’re only allowed to use it in case of a tornado emergency. It connects to a store next door called Pregger Craves, which uses it for storage.”

“Pregger Craves? What does that mean?”

“They’re open 24/7, and only sell foods that are most commonly associated with pregnancy cravings. You got your ice cream, but you also have...pickles.”

“Oh, that’s what that smell is.”

Mateo chuckles. “I give it a year.” There was a short awkward pause. “Well, you can drop your bag down anywhere. Rambo, please make sure her computer is set up how she wants it.” He turned around while he was taking a sip of his tea, and gazed out the window. “Let’s keep the Midwest moving,” he said to himself.

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Microstory 2381: Vacuus, October 30, 2179

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Dear Velia,

I need you to tone it down with Condor. As if it’s not weird enough that he's my twin brother, but he lives billions of kilometers away. He’s not going to be able to take you out on a romantic dinner, or even hold your hand. I’ve been letting it slide, because I understand that you’re lonely, but this is inappropriate behavior, and it’s gone too far. I know you say that he’s responding well to your advances, and I’m not going to argue against that, because the truth is that I don’t know if he likes it, or if he’s just being polite. What I do know is that it’s completely irrelevant, because nothing is going to happen between you two. I mean, maybe if long-distance meant the other side of the planet, and you could still have realtime conversations, everything would be okay. But you have to wait two weeks before receiving each other’s replies. I know how frustrating that is for me. I can’t imagine how much worse it is when you throw sexual tension into the mix. Those photos you sent him, woof. I told you the first one was too revealing, but that’s how you’re built, and I don’t wanna body-shame you. But I can’t believe you sent him the one of you doing yoga too. Why did you even take that in the first place? He doesn’t need to know how “flexible” you are, or that you’re fine on your “hands and knees”. Jesus, girl. I know that you’re an adult, and you’re only trying to follow your heart, but damn, Velia, this has got to stop. I don’t want to make everything about me, but you were not like this before Bray and I started seeing each other, so maybe you’re just feeling rushed, I don’t know. And I don’t know if you’ll ever meet anyone who’s good enough for you on this base. I had all but given up on it. I wasn’t even looking for it. It just happened, and it could happen for you, but it’s not going to be Condor, I’ll tell you that much. He also deserves to find someone special, and if you keep distracting him with your sexy photos, your innuendo, and your blatant sexual advances, it will be that much harder for him to notice it when someone who lives on Earth is standing right in front of him. I’m sorry to be so harsh, but despite our distance, he has been very protective of me, and I feel like it’s my duty to extend the same courtesy in my own way. I hope that we can still be friends after this, and also that you’re not offended that I had to write this in a letter. I wanted to get all of my points out, and if I confronted you in person, I was afraid that we would just end up in a screaming match, and we wouldn’t hear each other. I’m more than willing to discuss this further, though, so don’t take this as some final word from me that you’re not allowed to respond to.

I love you like a sister,

Corinthia

Microstory 2365: Earth, August 17, 2179

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Dear Corinthia,

I didn’t even think about that, how there would be no organic material in the soil on a lifeless alien world. Even if we were to find life on another planet, it would probably not be the right organic material for the plants that we need to survive. I must say, as angry as I was with your mother, I admired her greatly for her bravery. She knew that she was going somewhere dangerous, and that she might not make it. She and everyone on that ship should be commended for their courage in the face of such literal darkness. I hope it’s okay to say all that. I know that you had a tricky relationship with your mom, and it’s only grown more complicated since she passed. I just want to make sure you know that she loved you very much, and your brother too. Leaving him was the hardest thing that she ever did. She and I struggled there near the end, but she never lied to me. She wouldn’t have taken walking away from Condor lightly. She genuinely believed in the science that they were advancing. Had things gone more smoothly here—had Condor and I lived more stable lives—the insights taken from this research could have helped humanity better understand how humans adapt and survive in the black. Space travel will only increase in the future. I just hope that whoever was in charge managed to get something positive out of it before civilization fell apart. I hate to think that never having the chance to meet my own daughter amounted to absolutely nothing. Condor has asked me about the researchers themselves, and I’ve spent a lot of time pondering who here may have been involved. I’m trying to make a list of everyone I’ve ever met in my life since Alizée first told me that she was pregnant. It’s nothing concrete, but after you left, I did have one neighbor who used to come by the apartment to play cards. I didn’t think much of it at the time, but now I am looking back at it with fresh eyes. He offered to do a number of things together, like watching sports, playing sports, hiking—a lot of outdoorsy and active stuff that I’m not into. He didn’t really stop asking until he found something that I was amenable to. He may have been using this as an excuse to come over and monitor Condor. I don’t know, but we moved away when Condor was still young, and I never saw that guy again. I think I’ll try to see if he’s still alive somewhere, and maybe get you some answers. I won’t write back until I find something, or hit a roadblock.

Stay safe out there,

Pascal

PS: I ordered some apples from the Australian dome, because we don’t have them yet here. It will be a while before we swing around close enough to it again.

Microstory 2364: Vacuus, August 13, 2179

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Dear Condor,

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

Goodnight,

Corinthia

Microstory 2361: Earth, August 1, 2179

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Dear Corinthia,

It’s Pascal again. Thank you for being so patient with me. It is now August 1, and communication restrictions have finally been lifted. It was such horrible timing. Don’t get me wrong, I love my job, and it’s very rewarding, but it does come with downsides. I hope it’s okay that I’m writing you now. I know that your connection to your brother has only gotten stronger since my first letter, which was my last one. So if you only want me to speak when spoken to, that’s totally fine. I want you to drive this relationship, or even decide whether it is a relationship, or not. I won’t take up too much of your time until you decide, but allow me to give you a few updates on what I’ve been up to. Our deal with the Australian dome has been a great success. Since we live on the ocean, we’ve gotten pretty good at using our resources sustainably, but we still have to trade with land-based regions more than they have to trade with each other. We have less space here for such infrastructure, and we’re not equipped to handle certain crops. Everyone has vertical farming now, but so many fruits and vegetables can’t be grown in these tight, efficient environments very well. We grow tomatoes and herbs just fine. Lettuce and green beans? We got those. But we have no way of planting trees, and even if we did, they have not had enough time to grow to maturity since we were established. So many others just don’t work with the techniques that we are limited to using in the confined spaces on this boat. We can’t exactly carry tons and tons of dirt over the sea. It is for these reasons that we lack fruits like apples and peaches, sprawling plants like pumpkins and cucumbers, and roots like potatoes and carrots. In exchange for some of their food, we agreed to take a number of immigrants on board. Since we’re so new, we still have plenty of space to grow as a human population. Others are running low. The funny thing is, as helpful as it is to the Australian dome for us to take those people, it’s actually good for us too, because that is what we need. We want to establish our own nation, and to do that, we need citizens. That’s probably why it’s gone so smoothly, because we’re all winners here. All right, I’ve taken enough of your time already. Just get back to me when you can. I understand that you’re busy.

With affection,

Pascal

Microstory 2360: Vacuus, July 30, 2179

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Dear Condor,

Lol, I appreciate your offer to commit physical violence against my aggressor, but I should warn you that a lot has changed since I sent my last letter. Bray and I have gotten to know each other better, and we have found something between us. I know, it’s really weird. He’s about 18 years younger than us, but we can’t help how we feel. I honestly never planned on spending the rest of my life with anyone else. I never really connected with any of my peers. The gene pool is just so small. The truth is that the gap between us isn’t even the widest on the base. I don’t know how that sort of thing is received on Earth, but the stigma for us is long gone. In order to maintain our population, we’ve had to sort of ignore the social conventions of the past. I’m sure you think that it’s still a little weird, but I don’t want to just disregard our developing feelings. Maybe I shouldn’t be talking to you about any of this. You’re my brother, which makes it awkward, but we also don’t know each other very well yet, so that makes it awkward in a different way. I’ll spare you the details no matter what, but please let me know if you would rather not hear about it at all. I wouldn’t want to say anything that makes you uncomfortable. This is all I’ll say until I get your answer in that regard. Right now, nothing has happened between him and me, and it might fizzle out soon anyway. As I said, I’ve always seen myself more as a loner. Okay, I promise that that’s the last I’ll say. Thanks and sorry. On the other hand, we could discuss our love lives openly, that wouldn’t bother me. I know that you’re life has been defined by go, go, go, but have you ever gotten to know anyone special? Have you been looking for companionship since you settled down in the ocean platform? Again, you don’t have to say anything, this is just a topic that we’ve not touched on before, and I want us to feel comfortable being honest, if that’s even possible at this juncture, and through the detached medium of interplanetary correspondence. Sorry again! That’s it! I really won’t say anything more. To prove it to you, let me shift gears. You were talking about the people who did this to us; specifically who they might be, and what they might have been doing for the last 37 years. I’ve personally given up on trying to find those answers. I’m still mad about it, but all I think we can do is move on, and play with the cards that we’ve been dealt. We can’t go back in time, and choose a single planet together. If you want more information—if it’s eating at you—I will support you, and do whatever I can on my end, so don’t hesitate to be honest about it. I really mean that. There are still some stones on Vacuus that I can turn over if we agree that that’s what’s best. I love you, Condor. I want us both to be happy, and to experience whatever closure we’re looking for.

Not yet in love,

Corinthia

Microstory 2337: Vacuus, February 16, 2179

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Dear Pascal,

Thank you for reaching out. I would say that it’s the first step towards mending our relationship. I’m sure that your son told you that I would be out of range for a period of time, so that’s why it’s taken me this long to respond. As for you and me, I can’t promise you what will become of us in the future, but I can promise that I’ll try. You’ll always be able to send me a message, and I’ll always open it. Condor and I kind of have a weekly thing going, but we don’t have to write as often, and I won’t hold it against you in terms of resolving our issues. That being said, there is no quick fix here. Forgiveness is a really strong word, and I’m afraid I’m going to need more time before I can even consider it. That may be all it takes. We could not talk to each other the whole time, but I may one day get over it just because it’s been long enough. We’ll have to see. I understand that you were in a difficult position, and having known my mother for 36 years, I don’t doubt that she forced her ideals on you. She has a way of making you live the kind of life that she wants you too. I’m not sure if it was about being vicarious, or if she just wanted control. I’ve always thought she only wanted what was best for me, but looking back now, it doesn’t really make much sense. I mean, if this was a social experiment to see how two twins grew up if they were raised separately, why did she try to make all my choices for me? It sort of taints the results, wouldn’t you say? I dunno, it just seems like a weird choice to me, or maybe she just couldn’t help herself. It strained our relationship, and I pushed back at every turn. She didn’t exactly hope that I would become a solar flare watcher. I’ve spoken to counselors here, and on the ship, but other than that, to my knowledge, I don’t undergo any tests or evaluations. No one seems to be recording my behavior in any way, unless they’re doing it from a pretty big distance. What can you tell me about Condor? Do you report in to someone about who he is, and what kinds of things he does? Is someone writing a scientific paper about it? I would prefer it if you let me know, but it’s more important that he knows, so if you only tell one of us, I would rather be the one left in the dark.

It was nice to meet you,

Effectively, a stranger,

Corinthia

Microstory 2336: Earth, February 3, 2179

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Dear Corinthia,

This is your birth father, Pascal. I’m terribly sorry that it has taken me this long to send you a message. I could make something up about how much work I’ve had to do, but we would all know that it doesn’t work like that. It’s probably going to take me ten minutes to write this thing. What’s taken me weeks is working up the courage to even start with the first character. As I explained to your brother, I was complicit in the separation scheme that led you to living out half of your life on a ship, and the other half on a dark world beyond the orbit of Neptune. I didn’t want to let you go, but your mother forced my hand. I’m sorry, I don’t want to bad mouth her, but I feel like I need to defend myself. What you may not know—what I have not yet explained to Condor—is that the original plan was to have both of you leave Earth in separate voyages. For medical reasons, I’m not fit to travel in space. At least, I wasn’t. The restrictions have gradually been eroding, due to excessive need for planetary exodus, and advances in space travel which make it easier to treat at-risk patients off world. As much as it pains me that I never got the chance to know you, I know it would have been worse if I hadn’t gotten to know either of my children. So I made a choice, and it was the hardest one of my life. They would have taken Condor away from me, and I would have had no legal ground to stand on. Your mother had powerful friends who I believe were manipulating her into carrying out this unethical social experiment. She wasn’t like that when we first met. She was loving, kind, and loyal. That’s why I married her, and honestly, it’s one reason I never married anyone after she left. There’s also a law that prevents people from divorcing their spouses when they’re separated by at least one astronomical unit, yet not presumed dead. I regret not fighting harder for you, and for not trying to follow you later. Your mother and her friends could have stopped me and Condor from getting on that ship, but they wouldn’t have been able to stop us from getting on another one. It would have cost me everything I had to commission a new journey, but now I realize that it would have been worth it. I hope that you can forgive me one day, but I don’t expect it anytime soon, or ever. And I also hope that I’ve not ruined the impression you’ve had for your mother this whole time. She really thought that what she was doing was right. She wanted science and psychology to progress, and she thought she had to make the sacrifice of never knowing her son. If you’ve not already, perhaps you could one day forgive her too.

Hoping you write back,

Your loving father,

Pascal Sloane

Microstory 2314: Vacuus, August 14, 2178

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Dear Condor,

I hope this letter finds you well. My name is Corinthia Sloane. No, the fact that we share a surname is not a coincidence. I spent so much time crafting this message, because I didn’t want to shock you, but there is simply no delicate way to phrase it, and no best position in the paragraph to place it, except perhaps not in the first or last sentence. The truth is that you are my long-lost twin. Our parents separated us at birth. I am not certain of precisely why they did this. Perhaps you could ask our father. Tell him hello for me, or screw you, depending on what his explanation is. From what I could gather, they did it as some kind of experiment on nature versus nurture. Again, I’m not entirely sure how they thought this would be an interesting comparison. I’m a girl, born and raised, and I was told that you were at least born a boy, so we’re obviously not identical. What exactly were they testing for, and how did they account for the inherent differences in our physiology? Did they report back to each other regularly? Sadly, I am no longer able to ask our mother further questions. She confessed to me the truth on her deathbed, and has since passed on to whatever hell is somehow worse than this place. To clarify, I live on Vacuus. If you’ve never heard of it. It’s a distant planet in the solar system, taking nearly 42,000 years to orbit the barycenter! I’ve seen photos of the sky from your world, and am so jealous. From here, the sun does not appear as a dominating disc, illuminating all the lands, but a single point of light in the distance. It’s barely distinguishable from the other stars on the firmament. The surface of this planet is uninhabitable, as you would guess. It was the last one that humanity ever discovered, and it took them a very long time to figure out how. It is a cold, heartless place, where we live in stale, recycled air. It’s a wonder that we’ve survived this long, but it could all go up in an instant with a single breach in the walls. I’m exaggerating, but it is pretty dangerous and stressful here. I don’t know what your life is like, but for now, I would count myself lucky if I were you, that you were not chosen as the astronaut baby. I hope this news does not distress you too much. I only found out about you yesterday, and reached out as soon as I was able to sneak into the server room to mine for your contact information. If you are not my twin brother, Condor, please forward this message to him, or at least reply back that I have the wrong address. If you are Condor, please return as quickly as possible as I eagerly await your response. This far out, it takes light about a week to travel back and forth.

Excited to hear from you,

Corinthia Sloane

Microstory 2064: Naïve and Trusting

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I had a phone call with a guy who claimed to also be from another universe, and it was pretty interesting. Out of respect for his privacy, I’m not going to tell you his real name. He hasn’t consented to me talking about him. Though, I think he would kind of be okay with it. How can I put this? He’s the opposite of a conspiracy theorist? He isn’t paranoid about the government, or anything like that. He’s very naïve and trusting, which is why he responded to my ad in the first place. As it turns out, he’s been looking out for any message like mine, which is why he receives the Kansas City Post even though he lives in Chicago, among reportedly tons of others. Surprisingly enough, I’m not one hundred percent certain that he’s not also from another universe. Have you ever heard of the Mandela Effect? Of course you haven’t. You’re too boring to come up with psychology terms like that. Basically it refers to a phenomenon where people believe something is true that is not, like maybe that a particular mascot has always worn a hat, when in fact, the hat never existed. Maybe you remember a character from an old TV show having a brother, when what you’re probably thinking of is an episode where he pretends to be a neighbor’s brother so they can get a discount at the arcade. I just made those up, but you get what I mean. That’s essentially what may or not be happening with my new Chicago friend. He wasn’t talking about all these crazy differences from where he supposedly grew up. There are lots of little differences, like street names, and the biggest companies in the world. All of these can be attributed to poor memory, or more severe mental health issues, but they could also mean he came through Westfall, and for some reason, is aware that it happened. I will need to speak with him more to get a better understanding of what he’s been dealing with. No valid conclusion yet.

Extremus: Year 58

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Lilian Diamond’s job in the government is neither glamorous, nor revered. By most, it’s considered unimportant, and even a waste of space and resources. But it actually is important, and it deserves a lot more respect. Extremus is made of metal and metamaterials. For half a moment, the original designers considered going extremely creative, and making it organic, but they decided against that. They didn’t know at the time that the temporal engineer would come up with a way to repair the ship with time traveling shuttles, but even if they had, finding organic material out here in the galaxy would have proven difficult at best. A lot of people who came aboard could remember living on Ansutah, which was—though not lifeless—sparse with flora. It had just about  no fauna besides the humans and the Maramon. The humans survived by farming and harvesting what few edible plants there were. It’s a wonder they survived, but however they did, they seemed to never develop an appreciation for wildlife.

This mentality carried over into this universe, where they lived in gigantic rotating habitats. The majority of such cylinders are planned with plenty of forests and parks. And why shouldn’t they be? The climate can be controlled perfectly. As long as water is handled correctly, there’s never any drought, or hurricanes, or blight. Being in nature is easier in a place like that. But the four cylinders that the Ansutahan humans lived could not afford to waste space on these luxuries. They have to house billions of people in the most efficient way possible. There are rooftop gardens, but most of them have died, because no one tended to them, because they don’t care. This mentality was carried over again to Extremus. Space is dedicated to housing, and food production. The latter is green, but it isn’t beautiful. Once again, it was made to be efficient, and not worthy of visiting. They simply could not have installed anything larger than a small park, which almost no one ever visits. Lilian’s daily responsibilities mostly involve lobbying for more park space, and encouraging residents to visit the one that they have. It is a lot of work for nearly no gain. But what could they do?

“I have an idea,” Tinaya says.

“Let’s hear it,” Lilian replies

Tinaya has been Lilian’s assistant for months now, writing up proposal after proposal, and making sure the park stays alive in this pretty hostile environment. They’re the only two people who work in the park, and it’s almost not worth it. A few people do come; the regulars, they call them. They’re outliers who actually do appreciate green spaces. But they are pretty much the only people this park can accommodate. This is the dilemma that Lilian faces. She wants more people to come enjoy it, but they can’t all do that. Maybe if more people were interested, she would be able to convince her superiors to dedicate more space to greenery, but which comes first, and how does this work? There’s plenty of room on this ship right now, but in 150 years, they’ll be reaching capacity, because they’re supposed to be nearing their destination. “Expansion.”

“Expansion, how?”

“Let’s make the ship bigger. You keep asking for a second park at the edge of the presently uninhabited section, or a few other spots. Have you ever thought about asking to build an entirely new section on the back of the ship?”

“Is that even possible?” Lilian questions.

“Absolutely, it’s possible. Before either of us was even born, a devastating micrometeoroid strike destroyed almost the whole engineering section. They rebuilt it, which means that they could do that again, but instead of a rebuild, it would just be a first build. I’ve been working on some designs that I didn’t want to bring to you until I was satisfied with them. I think my best one is a forest that spans the entire length and breadth of Extremus, right on top of what’s currently the top level.” She turns her tablet to show Lilian what she’s come up with.

Lilian turns her head away instinctively. “I’ve been asking for another little park for years. It would, at worst, prevent three families from being able to move in over a hundred years from now. Now you want me to multiply that by...honestly, I don’t know how big the ship is, but that sounds...crazy, right? It’s crazy.”

“I don’t think so. It wouldn’t halt the population growth at all. In fact, it would promote it. You’re the one who’s always talking about the mental health benefits of having access to forestland. Our ancestors understood that, and if they didn’t have powers, patterns, or afflictions that they had to get rid of, they never would have gone to the desolate deathlands that was Ansutah. They just had no choice.”

“We wouldn’t have existed if they hadn’t done that.”

“I know. For centuries, our people have lived in stone and dirt and metal. We have the chance to change that. I believe in the mission as much as the next girl, but what are we waiting for? None of us is going to be alive to see the Extremus planet. We’re just...incubators, here to protect the future peoples who will enjoy the fruits of our labor. But that doesn’t mean that we have to suffer. Why not build a giant forest on the roof? Why not plant a thousand trees to sit under and daydream? Why limit ourselves to one park that no one goes to?”

“Exactly. No one comes here, so what makes you think they’re going to come to this hypothetical indoor forest?”

“Because they’ll be the ones who built it.”

“I don’t understand. Why would anyone have to build anything? That’s why we have robots.”

Tinaya swipes over to a different app. “I’ve been...seeing someone who works for the citizenry administrator.”

Lilian smirks. “Tinaya Leithe, are you in love?”

“Stop. It’s not that big a deal. We mostly talk about work, and he showed me some stats.”

Now Lilian accepts the tablet. “What am I looking at here?”

“You and I met because I was having trouble with my contribution score. As it turns out, I’m not the only one. They’re all going down. Everyone’s fine, everyone’s alive, but they’re not working, and they’re not enjoying life.”

“Hmm.”

“The civilian government has almost been cut in half since Extremus launched. Half! And the population has been rising, like it’s supposed to. Well, I mean, it’s actually a little slower than they predicted, but that’s why we need mental health programs, like the attic forest. I just now decided to call it an attic, instead of a roof. That makes more sense. Anyway, people need jobs. They don’t need them, but they need them.”

“Yeah, my brother just had to let someone go because the spa doesn’t get as many visits as it once did, which means her score also went down...assuming this is why there’s been a drop in patronage.”

“Lilian, the government isn’t supporting the people, and the people aren’t supporting the government. Nando thinks—”

“Nando? His name is Nando? Do I know this Nando?”

“No. He thinks this is the start of a huge problem. Because take a look at this one.” She reaches over, and swipes the tablet for her. “There was a suicide last year.”

“Oh, dear.”

“Now, you can’t multiply by zero, so there’s no real number that tells us how much the suicide rate has gone up. The percentage of increase from zero to one is undefined. But mathematically, it’s an increase to infinity, because it’s the first one we’ve ever had. And it’s because of a general decline in mental health. It—it..it could just be the first of many. We need the forest more than ever, and we need to get people involved in the project.”

Lilian stares at the suicide rate for a moment. “Why didn’t I hear about this?”

“It was buried in the news,” Tinaya explains. “It wasn’t covered up, but it wasn’t covered much either. The headline that day was about a little boy who won’t eat unless he’s dressed like a cat, and his plate is placed on the floor for him.”

Lilian is perturbed but not surprised by this. She sighs, and swipes back over to study the forest design. “You can’t have these close together. The black walnut will kill the tomatoes. I’ve told you this. You don’t always listen.”

“I did that on purpose as a prank,” Tinaya explains with a smirk. “There won’t be any black walnut in the real design. Walnuts, and their trees, are terrible.”

“It’s gonna take forever for these trees to grow. I mean, we can ask people to crouch on the ground and plant them, but they’ll die before the trees get big enough for the people who did that to enjoy. Except for the bamboo. The bamboo will be fun.”

Tinaya nods. “There’s a way around that.”

Lilian looks at her incredulously.

“Heh...time, right?”

Lilian sort of rolls her eyes. “You wanna create a time bubble so it grows literally overnight. Isn’t that illegal?”

“I’m sure we could figure it out,” Tinaya says with a shrug like it’s no big D. “I can talk to the Captain, you can talk to the First Chair.

Lilian scoffs. “I don’t get audience with the First Chair.”

“Well, I’m sure you can make your way up high enough to get things going. We can do this, Lilian. We can make this happen. It’s not going to be easy, and it’s gonna be a shit-ton of work, but what’s the point of living if you don’t do stuff? I may never become captain, but if we pull this off, we’ll both go down in history as heroes.”

“Is that why you wanna do it? That’s not a great reason.”

“Who cares what my motives are if it happens? The result is what matters. The trees and the plants and the fruits and the vegetables are what matter. You taught me how great it feels to take that first bite into a tomato that I planted and picked myself. If you want everyone to feel that, then let’s give them the chance. Not everyone can work for the best civil servant in the world.”

“That’s sweet,” Lilian says with a smile. “Okay, but we’re not talking to anybody else about it until we get the design perfect. Let me work on it myself. We gotta get rid of those black walnuts.” She shakes her head.

“All right, but let me talk to Valencia and Omega. If we’re going to use a time bubble, they’ll be the ones to do it.”

“No, don’t do that. They don’t work for the ship anymore. Reach out to Atkinson.”

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The Advancement of Mateo Matic: October 25, 2398

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Alyssa has been driving all over the region of central-Western Kansas which her brothers discovered to be a black hole of religion. Everyone in the area reports no religious affiliation. She’s interviewed a few dozen residents in several towns, and they all seem like normal people. They don’t act culty or cagey. None of them refused to answer her questions, except for a few who were late to an engagement, or otherwise preoccupied. They didn’t apparently move here with the intention of being in a community of like-minded atheists. Most of them didn’t even notice. Everything here seems completely above board, which means that something has to be lurking in the shadows. There is a force at play here that keeps itself secret; there has to be, or all the time Carlin and Moray spent researching the phenomenon was a waste. She doesn’t want to believe that. When they return from their space trip, she has to show them that she followed through on their suspicions, and found something worthy of investigation, even if it’s a bad thing. Even if it’s a good thing, for that matter.

Now that she’s failed to come to a conclusion, she decides to switch tactics by exploring the literal center of the religious black hole. She rechecks her coordinates. This is the center of her brothers’ map, and it’s the location of one of the presumed time travelers that Ramses detected with his big brain scanner. That can’t just be a coincidence, but this also can’t be what she’s looking for. This is the center of all of it? It’s nothing special, or at least it doesn’t look it. Maybe it leads to a giant high tech underground complex, like the one under her farm. This could hold the key to the answers they’ve been asking since they arrived. She’s standing under this dilapidated shack on stilts in the middle of nowhere. Surely no one lives here, that would be ridiculous. Then again, stranger things have happened to her already.

Alyssa doesn’t see any no trespassing signs, and again, this would be a terrible home for someone, so she decides to take a risk, and get a closer look. She climbs the ladder all the way up, and into the tower shack. The inside looks like a shack as well. It’s pretty clean, with no debris or equipment, but she ought to watch her step, because some of these boards may not be stable enough to hold her weight. It’s a long way down. There is nothing here, except for one window, and a mirror. The mirror is hanging there on the wall, so completely out of place. It’s not old and dusty, but new and pristine. Alyssa stumbles back when she realizes that she doesn’t have a reflection, but she doesn’t have time to figure it out. She was right about the instability of the floor. One leg crashes right through it, leaving the other leg at her side, causing her to hit herself in the crotch. She tries to get her breath back, but she can’t. The pain in her groin is almost too much to bear. Not only did she hit it hard in the fall, but now she’s doing the splits, which is not something she’s trained for.

She doesn’t want to move, because she’s afraid that any motion will cause the whole structure to fall apart, and then that will be the end of Alyssa McIver’s life. She’ll never see her brothers again. She’ll never fulfill whatever future Mateo and the team believe is waiting for in the alternate reality where they’re from. Okay, she packed climbing equipment. Kansas doesn’t have mountains, but it’s not as flat as the coastal elites believe. We do have edges, and it is possible to fall off of them, and it just made sense to be prepared for such an eventuality. If she can just spin her backpack around, and open it up, she might be able to find a rope, and throw it over something here.

As she’s starting to do that, she sees something move out of the corner of her eye. Is that—no. There’s not a hand coming out of the mirror like a Japanese horror film. It’s not being followed by the top of a head. Nope. Nope, nope, nope. This is not happening. She has to get out of here. How long will it take to hit the ground if she falls right now? Is there time to spin this backpack around, open it up, find the rope, and throw it over something? Probably, right? Let’s see, take the square root of her weight, and multiple it by the height of the shack. Carry the one, and no, she doesn’t have enough time. She’s either going to fall to her death, or get eaten by the ghost monster coming for her. Neither one sounds appetizing, but the ghost monster may spare her life if she spreads the message about how they died to as many people as she can, or something like that.

The figure finishes climbing out of the mirror, and does a front roll down the wall. Then she stands up, and reaches out a hand. “Let me help you.”

“Who are you?”

The woman doesn’t want to answer. “Don’t worry about it, just take my hand.”

Alyssa lets the stranger pull her to safety. Together, they jump over to the ladder, and make their way down to the safety of the ground. She finally recaptures her breath. “This is the center of unusual religious activity. Are you the cause of that?”

The stranger doesn’t want to answer that either.

Alyssa sighs, and takes out her tablet. “Nerakali Preston.”

“Huh?”

“Meliora Reaver, Xearea Voss, Ariadna Traversa.”

“What is this you’re listing?”

“Sanaa Karimi, Aquila Bellamy, Amanda Moss, Cambria Buchanan, Susan Glines, Natasha Orlova, Ellie Underhill, Téa Stendahl...”

“Are these meant to mean something to me?

“Ida Reyer, Aura Gardner, The Officiant, The Overseer, Tonya Keyes, Dr. Mallory Hammer, Danica Matic, Dilara Cassano, Marcy Calligaris!”

“Stop! I don’t understand!”

“I’m listing names of people that you could be, because when I land on your name, your microexpressions will tell me that it belongs to you. I have dozens more to get through, unless you would like to speed this up and tell me who the hell you are!”

She doesn’t speak.

“Quivira Boyce, Catania Porter, Bhulan Cargill—there! There, that’s it. I bet you didn’t think I’d find it, but you’re Bhulan Cargill.”

“That’s Mateo Matic’s list, isn’t it? That’s the cleverest thing that man ever did.”

“Are you the cause of the religious black hole?”

Bhulan still won’t answer that question.

“Daria Matic, Dodeka Sarkisyan, Lita Prieto—”

“I thought you already figured out what my name is.”

“Now I’m just doing it because it seems to annoy you. Answer my questions.”

Still nothing.

“Khuweka Kadrioza, Hogarth Pudeyonavic—”

“Fine. Yes. I’m the cause of what you’re calling the religious black hole, but not by choice. I’m just a prisoner here.”

“Who did this to you?”

“That I don’t know.”

The Advancement of Mateo Matic: October 13, 2398

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The tack team, as it turns out, was on Meredarchos and Erlendr’s trail the entire time. It’s just that Kivi just picked up other people’s scents along the way. It was the original spotter, and newly appointed technician, Manuel Hurst who figured it out. All he did was draw a line from Kansas City to Los Angeles. He then added blue dots that designated places they had gone to, and red dots for reported activity that fit the modus operandi of their target. The dots matched. The rest of the team feels like this validated Kivi’s participation, but she sees it a different way. If they had just gone straight to these places, and looked for the bad guys using traditional means, they may have caught them sooner. She kept distracting the team from the real mission, wasting precious time.

“I know it bothers you now,” Arcadia says, “but you’ll forget about it eventually.”

“How?” Kivi asks.

“You’ll save so many missing persons, and catch so many bad guys, that you’ll remember your trial period as exactly that; a trial. Now that you know that other scents can distract you from the one that you’re going for, you can figure out how to focus.”

“Can you teach me?”

“I don’t know about that. I never had to learn how to use my powers. They were always just...there. I was all but a sociopath, which meant I never had to worry about things like distractions. And then when I was thrown out of The Gallery, I did whatever I wanted. I didn’t have any goals, so there was no way to fail.”

Kivi frowns.

“Bottom line, you just need practice. I think this is a great place for you. This isn’t me, but you belong on this team. I don’t recommend going back to Team Matic, or that software company you were helping with. That’s just my opinion, what do I know?”

“I should think you know a lot,” Kivi muses.

Arcadia chuckles, and then heaves.

“Are you okay?”

She runs into the bathroom, and retches for the second time today as Kivi holds her hair for her. “Ugh,” Arcadia says as she’s wiping her lips. “This new body is irritating. How do you humans live like this?”

Kivi gets a thought. “Umm...women have been living like this for hundreds of thousands of years.”

“Well, it’s annoying.” Arcadia isn’t picking up what she’s putting down.

“I said women have been living like this.”

“What do you mean, that men don’t get sick?”

“Of course they do, but I’m talking about morning sickness.”

Arcadia glances at her watch. “It’s 12:45.”

Kivi rolls her eyes. “I guess your endocrine system doesn’t keep good time.”

“Honest hour, I don’t know what the endocrine system is, except that it’s the thing that Gary Busey is going to pull out of my body if I put that straitjacket on him. Remember, I was literally made out of clay.”

“Well, you’re not made out of clay anymore, you’re living in Leona Delaney’s body. That must be different for you.”

“Don’t remind me, my morning sickness is the least annoying thing that’s—wait. Morning sickness? Are you trying to tell me...?”

I’ll go buy you a home test,” Kivi volunteers.

“It’s not possible,” Arcadia says.

“I assure you, it is.”

When she returns twenty minutes later, Arcadia takes the test into the bathroom, and carefully follows the instructions. Near as she can tell, they’re just like they are in the main sequence. You pee on a stick, and look for a symbol after a minute or two. Not that she’s ever concerned herself with such pedestrian matters. Like she mentioned, her original body was made out of clay. She had all working outward parts, but her internal organs were a different matter. They weren’t nonexistent exactly, but they weren’t the same either. They had minimal function, and were mostly there for show. Honest hour again, she had never even had sex before she came here, and met Vearden Hayward. She was told, and believed, that she could never get pregnant, no matter which body she was in. It wasn’t just her womb or hormones, but her mind. It wasn’t fit for motherhood, so it could never be. She was supposedly designed that way.

It was the same for all the Preston clay children. Zeferino had a way with the ladies. As far as she knows, he never abused his power, but he did enjoy the occasional recreational...event. Nerakali would be a better comparison, but she seemed to have no interest. There is no precedent for this situation. A pregnant Preston? That’s absurd.

Kivi nods as they’re waiting for the results. “That may be true in the main sequence. If you jumped into someone else’s body, maybe you really couldn’t have children, even if that person normally would. But this is the Third Rail. The rules are different here. Why did you not use protection?”

“I guess when you spend thousands of years without so much as considering something as a possibility, you don’t let go of it, even when the variables change.” She buries her face in her hands. “I can’t do this. When Athanaric told me that I couldn’t have children, he was discussing it on a neuroglandular level. When my father said the same thing...he was talking about it psychologically. I’m a garbage person. Vearden and you guys have made me better, but I’ll never really get that stink off of me.”

“I don’t believe that,” Kivi says sincerely.

The alarm goes off.

“You read it.”

“Okay.” Kivi takes the stick, and compares the readout to the chart imprinted next to it. Rip it off like an adhesive bandage. “Arcadia, you’re pregnant.”

Arcadia grabs the stick, and looks at it herself. Then she pulls the second stick out of the box, and goes back into the bathroom. Guessing that Arcadia may be in denial, she bought three more boxes of three different brands, which Arcadia proceeds to pee on until she runs out. That’s eight tests in total, the girl is pregnant.

“Are you going to tell Vearden?”

“Of course I will, what kind of person do you think I am? Oh, wait...”

“In my—albeit limited—experience, sooner is better than later.”

Arcadia looks down at the pile of tests and boxes. “Would you mind disposing of all this in such a way so as to prevent anyone else at this blacksite from seeing them?”

“Consider it done. What are you going to do?”

“Do you know where he is?”

“Last I heard, he was still with Marie at the hospital in Chicago.”

“Then I’m going to Chicago.”