The Advancement of Mateo Matic: August 16, 2529

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The team stayed on Jaunemus the rest of the day, eating the local cuisine, and recharging their photovoltaics by the star that they were orbiting right now. This moon was a gargantuan spaceship, which could move through space at will. The Jaunemusians couldn’t travel all the way back home to Verdemus to eat lunch with their friends every day, but they didn’t have to stay in one place either. They bounced around the nearest stars in this area, and spent a lot of time in interstellar space to avoid detection.

There was nothing for Team Matic here, so they decided to bug out. “We have to get back to Proxima Doma,” Angela suggested. “We have to find out what happened there, if anything.”

“I thought we were going after Miracle,” Ramses countered.

“That trail has gone cold,” Marie figured. “She has had a whole year to get those cuffs off.”

Leona chuckled. “She has not been able to get them off. They’re held together by a distributive bond. Breaking them would cause her to explode, and I’m the only one with a key.”

They all looked to Ramses for confirmation. He nodded. That was how their EmergentSuits worked. It was how they could be so thin, yet so durable, and protective against harsh environments, like the vacuum of outer space.

“There’s still the question of where she is,” Olimpia tried to remind them. “She could have gone anywhere. I’m guessing the quantum connection doesn’t extend this far.”

“Even I have my limits,” Ramses admitted. “But your husband doesn’t.”

“Me?” Mateo questioned. “If I can find her, why didn’t we do that yesterday?”

“We all needed a break,” Leona explained, “especially you. As I was saying, those cuffs aren’t going anywhere. There was no need to rush off, and besides, I don’t like traveling with low slingdrives. Mateo, your dark particles are the backup, not the other way around.”

“All right,” Mateo agreed. “I’ll use my black magic for a locator spell.”

“That won’t be necessary,” Romana said. No, it wasn’t Romana, but Miracle. She was holding her arms in front of her chest, like a beggar. “Get them off of me, and I’ll agree to transfer to a new substrate. It doesn’t matter anymore. I stole this body because that’s what Pacey asked of me. But I never wanted this.” She sighed, and looked off into a random direction. “I just wan—I just wanted to end him...and his reign of terror.”

The real Romana stepped forward, and placed a comforting hand on Miracle’s shoulder. “You’re not doing this for Pacey, you’re doing it for yourself. You’re from the Goldilocks Corridor.”

Miracle sighed again. “My name isn’t really Miracle. It’s just Mirinda. Mirinda...Oaksent.” They didn’t know exactly what that meant. In modern times, you couldn’t guess someone’s relationship to someone else based on their appearance. They could look 50 years older, but be 200 years younger. She giggled. “You’re all waiting for the clarification before judgment. That’s quite magnanimous of you. I’m his daughter. I’ve been that way for millennia. You see, all those people out here in the Corridor, they are his subjects...his toys. He built them to serve, and to adore him. But the problem with that is they were indoctrinated into belief from birth. Ignorance is the killer. I mean, you showed one person the truth about Earth, and an entire opposing faction spread out from it, which is what he’s always been afraid of. Sycophants who don’t know any better aren’t very satisfying either way. He wanted a group of people who loved him because that’s what they were supposed to do. He wanted a family. He made us just like he made the others, but he made us immortal, just like him. He didn’t really raise us, but we got more face time with him than most, so I suppose he figured that was enough.

“I grew to resent him, of course, which is how we ended up here. In defiance of his plan to curate a family of superhumans, I started fighting back violently. I killed all of my clones, as well as my brothers and sisters’ clones. I didn’t kill them too, but they eventually died, and there was nowhere for their consciousnesses to go. Oaksent doesn’t like virtual simulations, I don’t know why, so there’s no uploading to a central server. There’s just backup bodies. I was just about to kill my own final clone when Pacey found me. He made me realize that Bronach never cared about any of us, which was why he made almost no attempt to stop me. His plans didn’t work. He’s not a likeable guy, and if he didn’t force adoration through ignorance, it wasn’t going to happen. All of his children loathed him. I’m just the only one who wanted to do anything about it. Pacey promised that he could kill my father. He promised to find a way. You were supposed to be that way, but what he didn’t tell me was that you always look for the peaceful resolution. Your ship was literally called the Vellani Ambassador. I’ve been trying to get you to change, but if I thought that anyone could do that, I would never have let my siblings die. I would have tried to call them to action. I believe that I’ve just been trying to replace them...with you.”

Leona stepped forward, and gently held Miracle’s wrists in her hands. It looked like she was about to remove the cuffs from her. “Obligation.”

“Yeah,” Miracle said with a nod. “Wait, what?”

“It’s a movie, about a sibling rivalry that goes too far. The motif throughout is Nazca boobies, which are known for killing their siblings.”

“Oh, I guess that’s kind of similar,” Miracle agreed.

“No, it’s almost the exact same premise. What you just described here, killing off your siblings to drain the parents’ of their power, and their legacy...that is the plot of Obligation. That never happened to you.”

“Well, I hardly think that’s a unique situation. I mean, I’m sure—wait, wait, wait, wait, wait!” she screamed when Leona started to lift her arms up. “You don’t have to do this! Okay, okay, okay, okay, okay! I’ll help you! I’ll switch sides! Just don’t make me transfer out of this body.”

This was such a weird freak out. What was she so afraid of? Why did she not want to transfer to a new substrate? It wasn’t like the processes hurt, or anything. It just felt like going to sleep, and waking up in a different room after surgery. It could be disorienting, but that went away, and relatively quickly. Why did she even ever want Romana’s body if not to parade around as Romana, and give her a bad reputation? They should have asked this as soon as Miracle agreed to keep it. They shouldn’t have been so trusting of her. They won’t make that mistake again.

“Please don’t, please don’t! Miracle continued to beg.

Leona suddenly broke the cuffs apart, and let the nanites recede into her implants. “There you go.”

“You’re setting me free?” Miracle asked, shocked.

“I don’t want us to be enemies anymore. It doesn’t come for free, though. I want you to take us to Pacey. We need to have a talk with him. I’m sick of going through his little minions. It’s inefficient at best.”

Yeah, sure,” Miracle said, stepping away and rubbing her wrists. Déjà vu, this was basically what she looked like yesterday, just before escaping through a black hole portal. “I just need to, uh...speak with him first. I’ll be right back!” Still reminiscent of just yesterday, she fell through a portal, which closed up behind her immediately. And it wasn’t going to reopen.

“Why did you do that?” Olimpia asked her wife.

“She ruined our plans,” Ramses answered for Leona. “Miracle was supposed to lead us to Pacey, not come back here. Matty?”

“Okay,” Mateo said. Gather ‘round.” They huddled in a group, and let Mateo generate a swarm of dark particles to overwhelm them. It was a pretty weak showing, though. There weren’t very many of them. “I think we’re trying too soon! I can’t pull enough out,” he warned. “It took too much to get us to the Fifth Division!”

“That’s okay,” Ramses shouted back. “Just build a bridge! The slingdrives will take us the rest of the way!”

Mateo didn’t exactly know what he meant by that, but his intuition told him to spread the dark particles thin, so they reached far enough out to their destination without being wide enough for a group of seven people to cross over with them. They then activated their slingdrives, and used the signal to navigate them to the right destination. The technicolors came and went, and they found themselves in a familiar place. This was the room they went to before they were knocked unconscious, and inserted into the Underburg simulation with false memories. The place was empty back then, but not this time. Miracle was there, as were Octavia, Pacey, and some other woman. He seemed to like the ladies. He wasn’t happy right now, though.

Miracle’s eyes widened in fear as she stared at the team. She looked over at her boss. “I’m sorry. They took the cuffs off! You said I could come back if they took the cuffs off!”

“We never needed the cuffs, you idiot,” Ramses argued. “He can find anyone in the universe.” He jerked his head towards Mateo.”

“Not with my shielding,” Pacey contended. “There must be something else.”

“Nanites are very smol,” Leona said to him. “They could be on you, without you even knowing it. We never needed the cuffs,” she echoed Ramses.

“You tracked me, like an animal,” Miracle spat.

“You’re a murderer. Which one is worse?”

“Who said I murdered anybody?”

“So you were lying.”

“Enough,” Pacey interrupted. “You obviously came here to talk, so let’s talk. Leave my girls out of it.”

“Mr. Henricksen, again, I’m so—” Miracle tried to apologize.

He held up a commanding hand. “We’ll talk about it later. You both can go now.”

Miracle left, as did Octavia, having never said a word. Miracle was annoying, but an opposing force. Octavia still felt like a betrayal. They wanted to talk to her again too, but on a personal level. Today was about business. The mysterious other woman stayed. She didn’t lurch or hesitate. She knew from the start that he wasn’t ordering her to do anything. If this were an action movie, she would be the one in charge here, and all of their previous dealings were with her henchman or lieutenant, who was only pretending to be in charge. But this wasn’t a movie, was it? Was it? It was a movie before, under the dome. It could certainly be that again, or worse...still.

“I understand that you have reservations about fulfilling the mission,” Pacey began, getting himself comfortable in an arm chair while the woman sat next to him in a hardback.

“That’s an understatement,” Leona said. “We’re not doing it. We don’t need higher compensation, or incentive. We don’t need you to explain why you think we should do it. It’s just not happening. We don’t care if you agree or not. We don’t care what you want or know at all. It’s. Not. Happening. If you have some kind of Plan B, which doesn’t involve us, then I suggest you move forward with it. We’re not interested, and we never were. Why don’t you make like a snowflake, and let it go?”

“I don’t know what that means, but I want you to know that I’m listening, and I hear you. I won’t make you do anything that you don’t wanna do.” He seemed proud of himself for the response, which meant that it was a trick. It probably had something to do with the woman next to him.

They all realized that this wasn’t actually going their way, and it felt exhausting. Mateo stopped forward and placed his hand upon Leona’s chest. He gently nudged her backwards in the direction of the team. “It’s all right. I got this.” He took another step forward, but more towards the stranger. “Who are you? What is your stake in this?”

The woman looked over to Pacey, not for guidance, but more like they were having an unspoken conversation with each other. She lifted her eyebrows to ask a question. He shrugged like the answer was maybe. She pointed at him, and lifted her brows again. He shrugged again, but this time, more as if to say, yeah, fine. They made a couple of other gestures towards each other, all basically implying that they were relenting to the team’s demands, but really, it was impossible to know for sure what they were saying. In fact, they could have been in the middle of an actual psychic conversation. Finally, after Pacey said, “okay” out loud, the woman took a breath, and leaned back in her chair. “I was admittedly hurt when I first heard the term Team Kadiar.”

“No,” Mateo said.

“I felt left out,” the woman went on.

“No,” Mateo said louder. It couldn’t be.

“Yes, it’s true, father. I’m your fourth daughter. Or should I say...your first. His name isn’t Pacey. It’s Séarlas. And I am Franka.”

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Microstory 2546: Midwife

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I am a Certified Nurse-Midwife, and the only one that this Foundation has ever seen. I have delivered every single child born of Landis, and many of the children of staff members who happened to get pregnant while they were employed, and chose our team instead of another facility. Landis makes an attempt to procreate with one of the legacy consorts once per night, which means that, on average, I deliver one baby a night. But of course, the timing doesn’t work out perfectly. Everybody is different, and every body is different. It has been known to happen that I’ve delivered two babies in one day. My busiest day was on October 7, 2023 when a perfect storm of storks arrived all at once. I’m mixing metaphors here, but I delivered six babies within a period of 24 hours. It was crazy, but an amazing experience. I’m obviously not entirely alone here. There is an obstetrician, and a host of other nurses and doctors. We’re a pretty streamlined outfit, but every mother here is very well-taken care of. Or I should say family. We take care of families here; that’s our mission. I don’t know much about the healing side of things. I’m pretty busy in the Legacy Department. I do know Landis, though. He doesn’t have the time or bandwidth to raise all of the children, and in order for it to be fair, the decision has been made that he doesn’t raise any of them. Researchers fought against this. They actually wanted there to be an imbalance, so they could measure any differences in development. But the psychological well-being of these kids is more important than their research. There are 815 of them right now, and they deserve stability and predictability, as any child would. They are each raised by a single parent, which that parent is fully aware of when she signs up for the program. She’s then reminded time and time again throughout the program that she will be on her own, except for the care that we provide as third party participants. Landis meets every one of his babies once. He holds them for 15 to 30 minutes, and then they move on with their lives. It might sound cold, but it would be impossible for him to be there for them all, and worse for him to give preferential treatment to a handful of them, or some arbitrary number. I can’t speak to his mental state, but outwardly, he has accepted this dynamic. I don’t think it’s easy, but I had nothing to do with the plan for the Legacy program. I just deliver the babies. Some of my colleagues have told me that it’s unethical, and honestly, they may be right; you’re having babies as an experiment. But I do stress to them that the children will be protected for their whole lives, and they don’t undergo tests. They don’t have their blood drawn, or receive shots, or anything that goes beyond the normal, conventional means of physical health. We had to fight the researchers on that too, but the kids aren’t lab rats. They’re people, and if they develop abilities later in life, they will come to that realization on their own, not because some lab tech sequenced their genome. I won’t have it, and I’m backed by the support of everyone at the Foundation, including Landis, as well as the mothers. Like I said, I don’t know if we should be doing this, but since we are, at least I know that we’re doing it the right way.

The Advancement of Mateo Matic: December 11, 2279

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The team was suddenly floating in outer space, next to a three-dozen kilometer tower that was once standing on the surface of Proxima Doma. All they could see was the faint outline of the lightly self-illuminated looming structure. The rest was utter darkness. They could survive like this for now, but they couldn’t communicate well, so they activated their EmergentSuits, and sealed themselves up. “Checking for injuries,” Leona declared. She scrolled through her list, which reported no issues with the team, but it did display something else. “Extra lifesign detected. Or...maybe two. Sync up and jump.” She selected the coordinates, and they all teleported there.

They found themselves in the penthouse of the tower. Aeterna was lying unconscious on the floor. Mateo scooped her up, and set her on a table. “Where’s the infirmary?” he asked, gently brushing Aeterna’s hair away so he could pull her eyelids open to check for a response. He wasn’t a doctor, but it seemed like the right thing to do. He shone a light into each eye, and saw the pupils shrink, which made sense to him.

“There is none,” Ramses replied. “Tertius and Aeterna are both immortal.”

“Obviously not,” Mateo argued. “She’s also pregnant...I don’t know if you noticed. That’s a pretty big change from when we last saw her a few minutes ago.”

Marie unzipped Aeterna’s outfit, and started to feel around on her belly. “It’s as hard as a rock. I don’t know what that means, but it can’t be good.”

“Keep unzipping,” Leona ordered quietly. “I think I’ve seen this before.”

Marie did as she was asked. “Is that what I think it is, or just urine?”

Leona bent over and sniffed. “It’s sweet. It’s what you think it is.”

“She can’t give birth if she’s not awake,” Romana reasoned.

“Oh yes, she can,” Leona contended. “Because we’re gonna help her. Get that thing all the way off of her.” While they were doing that, she held her arms out, and receded her sleeves. She then instructed her nanites to configure into a sanitizer dispenser, connected to the reserves in one of her pocket dimensions. She squirted it all the way, up and down her arms and hands, rubbing them together. She then turned her nanites into exam gloves, and did it all again to sanitize those too. She took one breath, but decided that it wasn’t enough, and continued into a breathing exercise. She lifted one hand again, and apported a sterile knife into it.

“You can’t be serious,” Olimpia said.

Leona continued to look down at the patient as she spoke. “Ramses is right. Aeterna is immortal, just like her father. She told us about it, and demonstrated it. She is injured now specifically because she’s pregnant. The baby is suppressing her immortality because it has to in order to grow. I don’t have to know how to do a proper c-section. I just have to get the child out of her, and she will heal herself.”

“What if she doesn’t?” Olimpia pressed. “What if she needs surgery to...kickstart the healing?”

Leona looked at her wife. “Then I’ll access the central archives, and find out how to do that.”

Olimpia shook her head disapprovingly.

“If we do nothing,” Leona went on, “both of them die. We don’t know where or when we are. We’re not detecting anyone else around. We are all that mother and baby have. Stand back, it might squirt blood. I don’t really know.” Leona just went for it. She cut Aeterna’s body from side to side, then without any instruments, she reached through the seam, and pulled the skin apart. It wasn’t pretty, but she knew she was right. Aeterna would come back from this. She reached further into Aeterna’s womb, and carefully picked up the baby. It was...floppy. That was the only word to describe what the baby looked like. And blue. She was also very blue.

“Oh my God.” Romana started to tear up, and look away.

“I need to lie her down to perform CPR. Someone cut the cord, please.”

Mateo apported his own knife into his hand, and severed the umbilical cord. Leona turned out to be right. Immediately after the connection was severed, Aeterna’s body started to return to normal. Her c-section was beginning to seal itself up right before their eyes.

Leona looked at her, then back at the baby, then back at Aeterna again. “Get a syringe. I need a blood sample.

“What?” Mateo questioned.

“Isn’t there a first aid kit in one of our dimensions?” Leona urged. “Come on! Hurry, hurry!”

“Yes, I got it. Hold on.” Ramses thought about what he needed, then materialized the syringe. He reached down, and tried to poke Aeterna’s arm, but the needle broke on contact. “It didn’t work.”

Leona understood the stakes. “The c-section. It hasn’t closed up yet. Take it from there. Now!”

“I don’t have a second syringe,” Ramses explained.

Angela apported one from her own medkit. She deftly stuck it into Aeterna’s wound, and drew some blood out of it. The needle broke too, and the skin forced it out, letting it fall to the floor.

Aeterna gasped as she sat up, then settled back down, but only for a second. “My baby!”

“This is your blood,” Angela said, shaking it at her. “Will it heal your child? We don’t know what’s wrong with it.”

“Yes, please. Do it now!” Aeterna shouted back.

“The needle’s gone,” Mateo reminded them.

“Use mine.” Marie apported her syringe. She twisted the needle off it while Angela twisted the bad one off of hers.

They put the two good parts together, then Angela tapped on the syringe, and squirted a little bit of the blood out to clear any air bubbles. She carefully slipped the needle into the baby’s vein, and injected her with the crude serum. They waited there for a moment, breathless and scared. More of them started to tear up. Finally, after about a minute, the apparent cure had circulated throughout the child’s bloodstream. Her skin turned pink, and miraculously, she started to cry. Oh, it was so loud and grating, and the most beautiful thing they had ever heard.

Aeterna burst into tears herself as Leona handed her wee girl to her. She continued to cry, but was smiling at the precious life in her hands. Then she started to blink and look a little bit confused. She adjusted her position a little. “She’s moving her arms, but not her legs. Why isn’t she moving her legs?”

“I...I,” Leona eked out. “The blood should have worked. It did work!”

“She’s not moving her legs!” Aeterna repeated.

“Aeterna,” Mateo began. “What is the baby’s name?”

“What? What does it matter?”

“Tell us the name,” Mateo reiterated.

“We hadn’t decided on a first name yet,” Aeterna began. “She was gonna take her father’s surname, and I was gonna surprise him with the idea to name her after his late mother, Delara.”

“Dilara Cassano,” Mateo said.

Aeterna had been staring at her baby girl this whole time, but now jerked her head up. “You know her. You know her in the future.”

Leona solemnly glided over to the wall, and opened the viewport, revealing a black void. No stars whatsoever. “I know where we are. This is The Fifth Division.” She turned back around, and took one step towards Aeterna. “I’m sorry to do this to you right now, in your darkest hour, but...report.”

Aeterna swallowed, but recognized that she had to catch them up. “You failed. You didn’t have the strength to spirit the rest of the tower away, and it crushed you. But you were lucky. The shockwave blasted its way through the dome, and killed everyone. The massive destruction accelerated the instability of the planet just enough to prevent any hope of evacuation. The poles were the only safe places to be, but most couldn’t get to them. And there certainly weren’t enough ships to get them all off planet. Since I was pregnant, I had a pass. I used what little time I had to make contact with the choosing one network, and found someone willing to send me back. He had his limits, unfortunately, so when I returned, I only had enough time to use the tower’s power reserves to give you the energy boost you needed to finish the job. It looks like we succeeded.”

“So there’s another Aeterna back in the main sequence,” Marie realized, “and another Dilara.”

Mateo looked at her. “That’s why she didn’t recognize us. She was a dupe, like you.” They both looked over at Angela.

“So she never walks,” Aeterna asked. “My baby never walks?”

“I’m sorry,” Leona said. “I wanted to go for the bone marrow, but we didn’t have the equipment, and definitely not the time. Once she was separated from you, your body decided that it was ready to be invincible again. That’s what makes you and your father special. You have layers of death defiance.”

Aeterna nodded somberly. “I wasn’t supposed to be able to get pregnant. I always have unprotected sex, because I didn’t think it mattered. Even if my partner had an STD, they couldn’t give it to me, and I have nothing to give to them.”

“How did Tertius have you in the first place?” Ramses asked. He then recoiled, worried that it was an inappropriate question.

“He had some kind of legacy loophole,” Aeterna answered. “It was some special serum that gave him one shot at conception, which he used to make me.”

“Maybe it was lingering in your system,” Leona guessed. “That’s how you have her.” She gestured towards the baby.

“That was our assumption too,” Aeterna agreed.

“Were you pregnant when we met?” Olimpia asked.

“No. I was pregnant when you came back, but that was a year later, remember?”

“Oh, yeah.”

“I just...didn’t think it was relevant,” Aeterna defended.

“You don’t owe us an explanation,” Mateo assured her.

Just then, a beam of light appeared. They turned their heads to see a crack in the far wall, right where it met the floor. It looked like someone was trying to break through using a thermal lance. The bean split in two, and each one began to travel up the wall at roughly the same speed. As they moved upwards, more cracks of light began to appear between them, in random, wavy curves. It looked rather familiar. They just needed more information to win this game of Pictionary. Knowing that it could be dangerous, everyone suited up. Mateo figured that it would be unsafe to donate his nanites to a baby, like he had with Boyd years ago, so he stood between her and the mysterious intrusion. The others bunched up to do the same. Mateo commanded the nanites on his front to turn into little cameras, and the ones on his back to become monitors so Aeterna could still see what was happening.

The beams continued to move up in straight lines, and accelerated, until beginning to split off into branches. Oh, it was a tree. The first two lines had formed the trunk, and the curves between them was the bark. Finally, the beams met back up with each other to complete the full image. The light became saturated, and began to fill the room. After one final flash, the light and the tree disappeared from the wall, but left a lingering image in the air. Behind it were two figures, holding both of each other’s hands. As the hologram faded, their eyes adjusted, and they were able to see who it was. Well, they were able to see one of them. The other was covered by a hood.

“Romana?” Leona asked.

“That’s not Romana, Mateo determined.

“Miracle,” Romana said. “Why are you here?”

“I think you know why.”

“Who’s your friend there?” Romana asked.

“I know who it is,” Leona said. “Show yourself. You’re not fooling anyone.”

Adult!Dilara Cassano pulled her hood back, and stretched her lips into a polite, but fake smile. “I didn’t wanna come, but I had no choice.”

“What is the meaning of this?” Leona demanded to know. The team hadn’t budged. There was no reason to relax, and think that Aeterna and Baby!Dilara weren’t still at risk.

“It has nothing to do with the kid,” Miracle began. “It’s mostly a coincidence that Miss Cassano here was the person we found to come pull you back into our reality.”

“We,” Mateo echoed. “We who?”

Miracle smirked. It was quite unsettling, seeing her look like Romana, but realizing that she wasn’t their friend anymore. “I think you know who. You broke out of negotiations way too soon, and Pacey is not happy. You need to get back to the main sequence, and back to the Goldilocks Corridor, so you can get back on mission, and assassinate Bronach Oaksent.”

“We have decided not to do that,” Leona retorted.

Miracle laughed. “Oh, I forget. You keep thinking you have choices. That’s enough of that.” She turned her head to face Adult!Dilara. “Do your thing.”

Adult!Dilara hesitated.

“Do it,” Miracle insisted.

Adult!Dilara reluctantly released creepy light vines from her ankles, and sent them out towards the team.

The vines reached their legs, and started climbing up their bodies. They couldn’t be removed. “Your escape modules!” Ramses yelled. “Release them! For the baby!”

They all did it, leaving behind seven caches of supplies to keep the baby alive until Aeterna could find civilization, and then they disappeared in a flash of branching light.

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Microstory 2544: Consort

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I have always wanted children. My problem has always been finding someone to have them with. I just didn’t click with anyone that I dated. Well, that’s too narrow of an explanation. There was always something wrong with the relationship. He didn’t want kids, or he said he did but it was a lie, or he cheated on me, or we grew apart, or he wasn’t responsible enough. I’m not saying anything special. I broke up with my past love interests for all the same reasons that other people do. I don’t have any family, and the job I had before this was very demanding. I could have cut back on the work, but only if I had a partner to help support the family. It wouldn’t have worked out if I had chosen to go it alone. The baby would have been cared for by babysitters, daycare workers, and/or nannies. Not that there’s anything wrong with those jobs, but I wanted to be part of the baby’s life. Truthfully—and this may make me sound like a jackass—I didn’t sign up to be with Landis, or to have a kid with superpowers. I signed up for a baby, and a home to raise it in. Now I don’t work at all, and I spend my whole day taking care of my little guy. There’s a roof over our heads, and three squares a day. That’s all we need. I’m not greedy. That’s kind of a barrier for entry into this program. Unless you have a job that you can do from home, you can’t really make any money from this. We’re not even given a stipend. If you want something, you request it from the Facilitators, and they purchase it for you, using their company accounts. Again, that’s totally fine with us. These restrictions are important, not only because of their inherent value in protecting the legacies, but because they don’t want millions of people signing up. If it were as easy as requesting that they ship potential mothers a sample of Landis’ seed, everyone would want to do it. Might as well. You have to be able to come here, you have to be willing to have sex with Landis, and you have to be all right with staying put, and just being a mother. It’s not for couples. And it’s not for moms who already have kids. It’s for people like me, who want to devote their lives to raising one amazing child. Superpowers or not, I love him and we’re happy.

Microstory 2543: Consort Facilitator

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First, I want to say that I will address the elephant in the room, but let’s just start with my background, and work our way forwards from there. I never thought that I would be doing anything like this when I first began my studies. After high school, I went to Springfield University, where I earned my undergraduate degree in social work. From there, I stayed at the same institution, where I later received my master’s in Counseling Psychology. Armed with these skills, I joined a nonprofit as a Family Planning Specialist. I met with thousands of families over the course of many years to help them understand what they wanted out of life, as well as process events of the past. There was evidently some debate when they first came up with the concept of the Legacy Department—which I named by the way; they wanted to call it Procreation. That was just a little too on the nose, and didn’t clarify the purpose of what we do here. Landis is a very special man, and many people in the world want to be a part of that. We offer some of them the chance. There are those who believe that I worked in the sex industry, and while there is nothing wrong or illegal about that, that’s not my background. Sex work coordinating jobs are all about encouraging people to have sex. That’s their business model. My job is to help people find what they want to do with their lives. And it’s not even about sex; it’s about...well, legacy. Our department is extremely discreet. We occupy the majority of the floors and their suites, currently being on seven total, which most of the staff isn’t even allowed on. Because they don’t need to be. Women find us via word of mouth. They navigate to our nondescript website, where they sign up for more information. We then initiate contact through email, moving on to more direct forms of communications like calls, video chats, and in-person interviews later. We don’t advertise, and we certainly don’t publicize the mothers, or the hopeful mothers. Before they sign up, they have all the information they need. They know that we do not pay, and they do not pay us, but we do support them throughout the whole process. They live at the hotel, and while of course they can leave at will, we encourage them to spend most of the time here, where they can be looked after and cared for. Once the child is born, its protected more strictly. We have everything that they will ever need. Our oldest child is currently four years old, and more are on their way. I must report that no child has exhibited any special abilities. I have no strong feelings on the subject, however. That is not my job. I’m here to make sure that the mothers and their babies are safe and healthy. Whether the objective is met by spreading Mr. Tipton’s ability doesn’t really matter to me. But it’s important to the women, so I make sure we do what we can to help them reach their goals. I’ve been doing it for decades, and I’m not going to stop now.

Microstory 2537: Bodyguard

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My job is pretty straightforward. Everyone knows what a bodyguard is. Landis Tipton is my one and only charge, and to clarify what that means, I will not protect anyone else at his risk. Wherever he goes, I go, and if he goes somewhere with other people, there’s likely to be another member of the security team there. That guard, and anyone else of sufficient proximity, would be responsible for handling a physical threat to those other people in the room. Landis is the only one I’m ever concerned for. I don’t wanna say that his life is worth more than anyone else’s, but...it is. Let’s be real, I’m not here to protect the highest bidder. I’ve answered a calling to serve this planet’s greatest asset, and that is not an exaggeration. I firmly believe that, and I don’t know if I could successfully do my job if I didn’t. I stand off at his flank, keeping one eye on him, and the other eye scanning for threats. Every minute, three or four people come into the healing room who have never been here before. They’re mostly grateful for the opportunity. At worst, perhaps they are anxious or scared. He does heal children, and children often fear medical environments. They are obviously not the threats I’m worried about, however, I also can’t discount them, especially since every minor has to be accompanied by a caregiver. Anyone—anyone—who walks into this room could have ulterior motives. Just because they have a disease that qualifies for healing, doesn’t mean they don’t also have some nefarious agenda. Or maybe it’s not nefarious, per se, but obsessive or destructive. A lot of people are in love with this man, or think they are, and they want more than they are entitled to. Kisses are the biggest thing. They either try to sneak one for its intrinsic value, or because they think it might somehow be a more powerful cure than his breath alone. I don’t know. I don’t care. I put a stop to it. They’re given the rules, and we have signage posted at strategic locations. They’re all fully aware of what they’re there to do, and why those rules are in place. They only spend a fraction of the time under Landis’ breath. Most of it is learning about the Foundation. So really, I don’t tolerate the missteps. I’m gentle and careful, but firm and strict. His safety comes down to more than just whether someone has a weapon or not, and I am the last line of defense against all hazards, great and small.

Microstory 2536: Executive Assistant

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They call Landis’ nurse his left-hand woman, and that’s because I’m his right-hand woman. That’s really only because I literally always stand on his right side. His left arm has better veins for drawing blood, so that’s his “medical side”. Though, they sometimes come over to my side of his body, because they need to test things like, is his blood different in his other arm? No, it’s not, by the way. As I was trying to explain, I was an assistant for three years before I landed this job. It was difficult and trying. My boss was great, but she was very demanding. She had high expectations of me, but she earned that right by building herself up from just about nothing. I figured that working for the Foundation would be a new challenge, but it’s really pretty cushy. He doesn’t exactly need me to do anything for him. His schedule is the same every day. He goes to bed by 21:30 so he can get up at 05:30 for breakfast before work at 06:00. He usually takes his half-hour lunch at 11:00. It’s his main meal, and it’s always pretty big. It’s prepared by a world-class chef whose only job is this. After his afternoon/evening healing shift is over at 18:30, he has a therapy session, which usually goes alongside his dinner. It’s much lighter than his lunch, which is important, because he then has an hour-long massage therapy session starting at 19:30. This wasn’t his idea by the way, it was prescribed to him by his doctor, who was afraid Landis would not be able to relax. He doesn’t enjoy any other relaxing hobbies, so it was kind of something they had to come up with to help. This next part is a little tricky, so let me try to keep it classy.

After the massage, Landis takes a quick shower, and then meets with a woman for about a half hour, including some light conversation. It’s a different woman every night, as coordinated by the Legacy department. This woman is virile, and of course healthy—but it’s important to note that she is typically naturally healthy. They arrange it differently sometimes for comparative experimentation, but for the most part, we’re talking about a young woman in her prime mothering years who has not undergone the healing breath treatment herself. That is what she is looking for. While the pharmaceutical company is researching paths to the panacea, an alternative program seeks to potentially expand production of the cures by simply spreading it throughout the population. Not every pregnancy takes, but all told, Landis has fathered, uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh......about 800 children. Woof, that’s kind of something that we don’t really talk about. Part of the funding that we receive goes into supporting these families for the rest of their lives. As of yet, no child has exhibited any special abilities, but the oldest one isn’t even five years old yet, so they’re not taking that as proof that it doesn’t work. The program continues. When I first met Landis, he was chill and funny. He liked to talk, and be around people. This experience has changed him, and while most seem to attribute his turtle-shelling to the burden of the healings, I believe the daily expectation of procreation has affected him more than anything. He likes women. He likes sex. And it’s all consensual. But it still heightens his anxiety. He still considers it part of his job. On the one hand, that makes it easier to detach himself, and simply perform. On the other hand, is that psycho-emotionally healthy? I don’t know. I really don’t. But I’m here for him every day, and if he were to ever express doubt in continuing either of his jobs, I would be the first to know. I won’t let him do anything he’s not comfortable with, even if it’s something that he’s done a thousand times before.

Microstory 2526: Middle Class Patient

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When the Foundation first made the rounds in the news, I both was skeptical, and didn’t think it applied to me. I exercise every day, even if it’s just a thirty-minute walk, and I always eat healthy. I get plenty of fiber, and the right ratio of my macronutrients. I’ve never had a problem with vegetables, even as a kid. Unfortunately, none of that mattered, because I was born with higher susceptibility to Hereditary Chorea. You can look up what that is, and what it does to your body, but it’s a genetic disease that there’s nothing you can do to stop it. It doesn’t matter how you live your life, or what exams and procedures you have done in your youth. You’re born with it, and only time will tell if you develop it. You can get tested to see if you have the gene, but you’re unlikely to even request such a test if you have no reason to suspect that it runs in your family. I was adopted by a very nice and soft-spoken man who I love very dearly, and the only thing I realized too late that I was missing in my life was the right kind of information. I never cared what happened to my birth parents. I was abandoned in a crackhouse as a baby, so family services had no idea who my mother was, let alone my father. I never had any interest in locating my birth mother, but looking back, I probably should have, for this reason, and this reason alone. I didn’t know that the disease runs in my family, and I still don’t know which side of the family it’s on. It could be both, for all we know. Had we thought to get me tested, I could have been better prepared for it. Very specifically, I would have chosen not to have children. Do not misunderstand me, I love my kids immensely, but I unwittingly placed them at risk simply by having them. That was the hardest part after the onset of my symptoms, worrying that one or both of them would suffer as I did when they got to be my age. I was so relieved when I started hearing proof that Landis was the real deal, and not some charlatan selling snake oil. I honestly didn’t think I would get the chance for a cure. I hoped that my children would have better chances when they were older. Then my thoughts darkened again, because I thought, what if Landis dies before my kids get the chance to be cured? How big is our window here? Then the news continued, and we found out about the panacea research, and I felt grateful again. If I died before they completed such research, I could leave this world confident that my young ones would likely grow up to a world with no disease. Obviously I applied for my own healing anyway, because I certainly didn’t want to leave them, and that’s how we’re here today. I put in a lot of work preparing my family for a future without me. Now I have to walk a lot of that back, and consider where we go from here. Not that I’m complaining. It’s a good problem to have.

The Advancement of Mateo Matic: August 6, 2519

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The honeymoon was going well. After horsing around in Mud World: World of Mud for a little while, Mateo, Leona, and Olimpia spent the night in the Sovereign Suite of the Palacium Hotel, which was pretty much the most extravagant, opulent place to stay on the planet. Hrockas actually booked it for them for more than a year, so they could sleep across midnight central, and not worry about anyone having used it during their interim year. It was too much, and completely unnecessary, but he insisted. While it was luxurious and beautiful, people really didn’t need such things these days. They mostly came for the fun and adventure, and to do things that they could not do anywhere else. The majority of the residential dwellings were functional and unremarkable, because it wasn’t a big draw for anyone, and there were plenty of nice places to live on other planets.

They were currently hanging out in State of the Art, standing on the shoulder of one of the gargantuan statues that towered over the skyline. Visitors couldn’t typically climb this high up, but teleporters didn’t share such limitations. They were trying to figure out what they were going to do next. The others on the team were right. They needed this, and if they would deign to admit it to themselves, they deserved it too.

“Adrenadome?” Olimpia suggested. They were each looking through the catalog, and tossing out ideas.

“I don’t want to shift substrates,” Leona said. “Nothing life-threatning.”

Olimpia clicked her teeth as she began to swipe away the options she had bookmarked one by one.

“We should just go to Polar Tropica,” Mateo said for the umpteenth time.

“That’s so basic,” Olimpia contended. “Are we basic?”

“Well, I suggested we try the Outer System space battle simulations, but no one wanted anything violent,” Mateo reminded her.

“Still don’t,” Leona confirmed. “Whoa,” she added, looking down at her forearm output.

“What? Something juicy?” Olimpia asked, trying to look over at her readout.

Leona read the message out loud, “you have been browsing the catalog for a while now. Still having trouble deciding? Tap here for a random suggestion, which will come from your preference algorithm. If you linked your profile with nearby friends, this suggestion will be sourced from their interest surveys as well.”

“Tap on that thang!” Mateo said.

Leona shrugged and tapped on the button. A new message popped up that read, temporal signatures detected. Rerouting. Instead of just producing the answer, they were automatically teleported elsewhere.

They found themselves standing next to a wooden wall. It wasn’t cleanly cut, but looked more like bark. The air was foggy and unbreathable. A heavy rain was falling upon them. They activated their EmergentSuits, and continued to look around. “Wow. That could have killed us,” Olimpia said.

“Must be an experimental feature,” Leona mused. “Jesimula Utkin suggested it at a meeting once. Hrockas wasn’t so sure, because he didn’t know how to distinguish time travelers from regular people. I guess they think they figured it out.”

“Not really,” Mateo contended. “The air is toxic. Unless it also knew that we had suits on, I guess.”

“It’s only toxic for us,” Leona agreed. She ran her hand over the wood wall. She reached over to her arm screen, and flicked the data over to her heads up display, which was an easier way to read when her helmet was on. “Derudome. It houses The World Tree, along with thousands of others, but this one is set to reach the top of the dome, and be three kilometers in diameter.”

“So, it’s not a wall,” Mateo stated the obvious.

“No. This isn’t even in the catalog yet,” Leona went on. “I can only see the prospectus because we’re already in the dome, and the satnav found an otherwise hidden link, but it isn’t open to visitors.”

“First!” Mateo shouted playfully.

“Hey, Thistle,” Leona began. “Erase the fog and rain through multispectral imaging. Show us the tree alone.”

The image on their HUDs changed. The fog still had them enveloped, and they could still hear the pitter-patter of rainwater on their suits, but they could now see what the tree would look like on a clear day. It was a magnificent sight to behold. People were really going to love it. Leona was in just as much awe of it, but was also running calculations through her head. How could such a thing be possible? How did it grow so fast? Did Hrockas use time tech? Or had he been working on this longer than she realized? No, even if it was the absolute first dome he started working on, the tree could not be at full height in this short amount of time. And if time tech were involved, he likely would have conscripted Ramses to make it happen.

Leona refocused her vision to the HUD text. “There’s more. It has a planned release date of...” She trailed off.

“When?” Mateo prompted.

“Year 2900,” she said.

“Whew, that’s the long-game,” Olimpia pointed out.

“Wait. Why wait?” Leona questioned. “Thistle, what are the current dimensions?”

“Nearly eight kilometers tall, with a diameter of two-point-four-two kilometers.”

“Yeah, it’s just not ready yet,” Leona determined. “The math is tight, but the rate of growth doesn’t break the laws of physics in a highly controlled environment such as this one.”

Someone else wearing an environmental suit walked up from a couple of meters away, letting themselves appear in the honeymooners’ sightlines without speaking or jumpscaring them first. Whoever it was, their visor was opaque. They held one hand towards Olimpia while the other hand was underneath their own chin. Both palms were face up. They drew both hands together until one was on top of the other, then turned them so both palms were face down. They then extended their hands back to the original positions, except with the hands switched. This was the universal sign for open up radio communications on a hailing frequency.

Leona did as she was asked. “Hello?”

“Sorry, my visor is broken,” Hrockas’ voice came through. “I refuse to wear an IMS on this planet on principle as the whole premise is that it’s infinitely survivable. I didn’t realize the helmet didn’t work right until it was already on.”

“How did you get here so fast?” Mateo asked him.

“I have a teleporter belt,” Hrockas replied. “Ramses built one for me. It needs constant charging, but it makes my daily life easier. Is he here?”

“Just the three of us,” Olimpia promised.

“Good. Not that I wouldn’t want him here. Well, I don’t plan on any of you being here. It’s just that I was worried about my lifesign sensors, but it appears they captured all visitors. You really aren’t meant to be here, though.”

“The auto random selector dispatched us here,” Leona explained.

“Oooooooohh, I forgot about that. It should not have been activated. I’ll have a talk with Jesi’s friend about it. I put the project on hold indefinitely.”

“Fair enough,” Mateo said. “We’re sorry to have imposed.”

“No, it’s okay, you three are fine,” Hrockas insisted. “I just need to include it when we update the security protocols.” He looked up at the tree. He likely couldn’t see it in all its glory, however, as the fog would be blocking most of the view. “Wady’all think?”

“It’s gorgeous,” Leona said. “We were looking for a place to spend some of our honeymoon. This place checks a lot of boxes. I like ecologies. Mateo likes water. Olimpia likes dangerous or toxic environments.”

Hrockas chuckled. “The air is saturated with carbon dioxide. Makes them grow faster.”

“So there are other trees here?” Olimpia pressed.

“Oh, yeah, it’ll be a whole forest when it’s done,” Hrockas said as he turned at the waist to indicate the area in general. “Land for giants, but not with giants. I’ll leave that to Gulliver’s World.”

“Thanks for letting us see it,” Leona said graciously. “I’m sure we’ll be back in about four hundred days, when it’s finally open to the public.”

Hrockas chuckled again. “You can stay as long as you want. The fog makes it hard to see, but hey, if you’re into that, as well as danger, you could always try Foggy Forest.”

“Thanks. After my time in Bloodbourne,” Mateo said, “I’ve decided to stay away from the intentionally scary or unsettling ones.”

“I understand. Have a good rest of your honeymoon.” Hrockas tried to tug on a pull actuator, and flip a switch on his shoulder. “Oh, shit. My teleporter’s drained again.”

“Here.” Mateo approached. “Let me take you to Treasure Hunting Dome, so Ramses can fix it for you. It shouldn’t drain that fast.”

“No, I’ve been using it all day. I really just need to be careful with it.”

“Well, I’ll make him give you a second one to use during charge cycles, or hell, a third.” Mateo took hold of Hrockas and took them both away. Leona and Olimpia followed.

They were standing in the antechamber to Ramses’ new lab, which he built when he was stuck in the past for a year. After they went through decontamination, the three EmergentSuit wearers receded their nanites, and stepped into the lab. While Olimpia was helping Hrockas remove his bulky suit, Mateo approached Ramses. Something caught his eye, though. He looked over at a gestational pod, which Romana was floating inside of. He fumed. “What happened to my daughter?”

“She’s fine,” Ramses said. “She’s taking a nap. That’s not your daughter. It’s a new substrate for her.”

“Why would she need a new substrate?” Mateo questioned.

“The retroverters,” Ramses began to explain. “They’re not proverters too. Romana asked me to give her an upgrade instead of waiting for time to age her back up.”

“We can find her a proverter somewhere else,” Mateo reasoned.

“That’s not what she wants. You should talk to her.”

“Were you ever gonna tell me?”

“Yeah, when you got back. Why are you back so early?”

“It was just a quick detour in between adventures. Now I worry I should stay, or you’ll do something drastic.”

“Mateo. We were going to tell you. We just wanted you to relax first. Don’t make this into a thing.”

“Well, you’ve obviously been working on it for a long time now. She only looks as old as the real Romana does right now.”

“That is on an accelerated timescale,” Ramses clarified.

“I thought that wasn’t safe or stable.”

“I mean, the clone is in a time bubble. Or it usually is, while I’m not here. It’s developing at a normal rate, but from our perspective, it’s sped up. I shut off the temporal field this morning so I could run diagnostics, and make any adjustments necessary...which there aren’t any.”

This made Mateo even more frustrated. “Why can’t you just do that for Romana herself, keeping her in her original body?”

Ramses shook his head. “You’re not as dumb as you pretend to be, so stop asking stupid questions. It wouldn’t work for a conscious individual. She would go insane, trapped in the pod for ten plus years. God!”

“Okay, okay, okay,” Mediator Leona said, stepping in. “Ramses, don’t be mean. Not everyone is as smart as you, and I know you get annoyed, but you need to keep control of how you speak to others. What might seem like a dumb question to you could sound perfectly reasonable to anyone else.” She too was a genius, but a part of her wasn’t. She recalled a timeline where she majored in Film Studies in college. This gave her a rare ability to straddle both worlds, and be empathetic to all. “Mateo, Romana is an adult, and this decision was inevitable. Look around. Nobody on this planet is a regular mortal being. Some people refused transhumanistic upgrades once they became available, and you know what happened to them? They died. Because that’s literally what they wanted. Their race has all but died out at this point, because fewer in each generation choose to stay as they were when they were born.”

“I know,” Mateo responded. “Intellectually, I know. I just can’t help but see her as my little girl. I never got to raise her. I think I would give her all the room in the universe if I watched her grow up, making small decisions on her own at first, before working her way up to the life-changing ones.”

“Yeah, and that wasn’t fair for you, but at the same time, it’s not fair of you to expect her to let you treat her as a child.”

Mateo said. “I know that too.”

“This wasn’t a rash decision,” little Romana said from the doorway. “I always wanted to be like you. My whole life, I’ve wanted to be like you. I grew up with stories. This...Ashvin thing was just the catalyst that pushed me to finally go through with it. I want this.”

“It’ll be ready in a couple days,” Ramses said.

“Did you hear that, dad? Plenty of time to go back to your honeymoon. I promise, when you return, I’ll still look like a child. I won’t transfer without you present.”

Mateo nodded. “Okay.”

When Mateo showed up the next day, still in the middle of the honeymoon, Romana no longer looked like a kid. She didn’t look like herself at all.

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