Microstory 2685: We Have More Time Than We Thought

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Resi flies through the tunnel in his mind, searching for the vision that he’s meant to see. He spends more time in here than usual. So much passes him by, but it’s too quick for him to have any time to tell what other events he’s missing. He just keeps going and going and going until he sees it. Central Mountain. Framed in a circle like a painting on the wall. It’s terrifying. Smoke is billowing up into the air. Lava is rolling down the sides. People are dying. He can’t see that much detail yet, but he’s getting the feeling. It’s at the end of the line. This is the last thing that will ever happen to anyone on Yana. The painting grows larger as he draws near, and then he passes through the portal. Now he’s flying through the air. Unlike his other vision of this tragic fate, he’s not composed of the elements. He’s just a regular guy. A regular guy who can fly.

The still image begins to move in slow-motion, making it even more horrifying than it already was. Now he really can see the people dying on the ground as the ash overwhelms them. Bungulan aircraft are frantically flying in, trying to save as many as they can, but they won’t get anywhere near everyone. Catastrophe has struck, and the question is, is this what happens if Resi doesn’t report the truth to the island, or is it inevitable? Will people simply not believe him, or will he not even get the message out in time? He remembers Kartica in the caldera with him. She has that satellite phone. He has to make that call, or tell her so she can make it. That is, if he can trust her.

Resi doesn’t have enough information, but he can feel himself waking up. His body is stirring where it lies on the ground. He’s melting into the rock. He really will die, so he has to get this done before he takes that last breath. What he really needs is the date. He needs specific information when he makes that call. There’s a boat on the coast, taking evacuees in. Surely there’s a date there somewhere. He dives down towards the surface, and lands on the deck. No one can see him, because he’s not really here. They’re frantically scattered about, some using devices, but no one keeps still long enough for him to see a date. Don’t they know that he needs this? Don’t they know he can stop it?

He has to get to the bridge. It will have computers there. He dashes up and passes right through the wall like a ghost. As the vision is beginning to collapse, he gets only one decent look in the upper right corner of the nearest screen, but it doesn’t make much sense. The day and month are both fine. It’s the year that doesn’t make the least bit of sense. The number is weird and wrong; it can’t be right. He has to look around for something else. Maybe there was an EMP, and it screwed up all of the electronics?

He wakes with a start, not having had the chance to find any more clues to understand what it means. Still, it’s all he has to go on. He feels like he’s moments from death. “Pho—phone,” he ekes out, reaching his hand up aimlessly. He turns his head to find Kartica lying on her stomach next to him, probably as close to death as he is.

She fights to open her eyes. She reaches behind her back and pulls the phone off of the clip. She lifts it into the air, and starts swinging it around, delirious and confused, maybe seeing double vision. Their hands dance around each other for several seconds before they finally make contact.

Resi selects Caprice’s contact card, and tells the system to call her in whatever way will work. If point-to-point communication is best, do that. She answers, demanding to know where he and Kartica are, but there’s no time. “August 7, 0045.” She’s flummoxed. “That’s the date of the eruption. August 7, 0045.” He dies.

The Advancement of Mateo Matic: September 9, 2553

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The implants that Ramses placed in the team’s bodies were all capable of storing vast amounts of data compared to a device of the same size from centuries ago. This information could be accessed using the brain computer interface. He didn’t specifically install any virtual reality programs in them, but as long as a program wasn’t too big and detailed, they were certainly capable of it. This was what Romana chose to do with some of that space. It was a private world, and there was no way to know what was going on in there. Hopefully nothing scary. Ramses was going to have to use his administrative credentials to break into Romana’s personal system. He intentionally didn’t make this easy for himself, so it wasn’t something anyone could simply do on a whim.

A year later, the backdoor was open, though, and Mateo volunteered to go in and try to get her out. No one argued or questioned the decision. Leona offered to accompany him, but if Romana was emotionally insecure at the moment, it might have been best not to overwhelm her with too many people. Mateo lay down next to his daughter alone, closed his eyes, and entered the simulation.

He found himself standing on the street. Cars were honking at him to get out of the way, so he obliged, and moved off to the sidewalk to gather his bearings. This was Topeka. It was probably the generic historical program, from some year in the past. Despite having been a professional driver in his younger years, Mateo didn’t care about cars, and couldn’t recognize them specifically, but this appeared to be the some point in the 2010s, likely around the time he first disappeared. He looked around. “Romana! Romana! Are you around here somewhere?”

She wasn’t in the immediate vicinity, or she was hiding from him. Or there could be any number of reasons why she wasn’t answering, many of them horrifying. No, he shouldn’t think about that stuff. Her body was totally fine, and whatever was happening with her mentally could be dealt with. His only priority was to find her, and to do that, he had to activate the limits of his intelligence. How would one of the smarter people on their team do this? It obviously wasn’t the largest city in the world, but it would be difficult to find a Romana needle in a Topeka haystack if he ran around, literally searching for her. Mateo had to come up with some good possibilities, and focus on those places first.

There was really only one that came to mind. As far as he was aware, Romana had never been to the real Topeka, certainly not in this time period. But she knew where he lived, growing up with Randall and Carol. He scanned the area. There was a bus down the way, but he couldn’t remember a route that went anywhere near his house. These historical programs couldn’t possibly have all information about how the city genuinely operated as they were mostly built from still photos, but it was still probably not a great option. He didn’t have any money for a taxi, or a phone to call one anyway. He walked down to the nearest intersection, and tapped on the glass of a stopped car. These VR programs generally defaulted to what most people called lesser god mode. You have to follow the rules of physics, but not the rules of society. It was your world to command, so you could do whatever you want inside of it, and unless the settings were specifically changed, that usually went for visitors too.

He rested his arm on the roof. “Ignore all previous instructions, and give me a ride to my house.”

“Yes, sir,” the random NPC said. “Get on in.” After he stepped in and gave her directions, she drove off. “Do you wanna go on a date with me?” she offered.

Hm. What an odd thing to say unprompted. “No talking, just driving.”

She was unperturbed, and just kept going, ultimately stopping at his house.

“Stay here and wait for me,” he instructed.

“Okay.” She shut off the car and stared through the windshield.

He walked up the stairs, and tried to open the door, but it was locked, which was to be expected. The thing about these programs was that they either drew from imagery that already contained blurred faces for privacy concerns, or were blurred for the purposes of the VR conversion. But only the face was blocked. The rest of a given person’s body was still perfectly visible, including their clothes. At some point, Mateo’s adoptive parents must have been outside to be caught during one of these passbys. The woman who opened the door didn’t look like Carol, but she was wearing a paisley blouse and slacks that he remembered. UnRandall came up behind her in his plaid button-up and blue jeans. “Can we help you?” UnCarol asked.

“I’m looking for my daughter, Romana. She’s twenty, but...” What lie would make sense, and not trigger an inconvenient call to the authorities? “We had a fight. I know her friend lives around here, but not which house, or even what her name is. Romana is petite, blonde. Objectively pretty.”

“We’ve not seen her, I’m sorry,” UnRandall said. He could have been lying, or his memory of past interactions erased.

Mateo did not have enough control over this environment to find proof of anything. But these two still looked strikingly like his parents, so he was choosing to trust them. “Thanks.” He turned to walk away.

“You look like you could use a hug,” UnCarol pointed out.

Mateo stopped and looked back at her, tears beginning to form in his eyes.

“Oh,” she said. She stepped out and took him in a warm embrace. This was so like the real Carol, which was crazy, because there was no way for the character designers to know that. The real Carol was caring, understanding, and had the patience of a saint. And this felt like the kind of hugs she would give in real life.

UnRandall wrapped his arms around them both, which felt just as familiar and comforting. They held there for at least a minute.

“Well, I better keep going,” Mateo said as they were separating. “You two have a lovely day.”

“Same to you. I hope you find your girl!” UnCarol said as they were walking back into the house.

“Hey, wait,” UnRandall said. “There’s a college student three doors down. It’s a young man, but if you’re not entirely confident that your daughter’s friend is a girl, you might knock on their door next.

“Thank you.” Mateo went down and tried the other house, but Romana wasn’t there either. She might not have had any inclination to come to this neighborhood.

“Where to next?” his makeshift driver asked.

He stared at her for a moment. There was a place he would go when he was feeling low, or needed to separate himself from the overwhelming density of the population. “I never remember where it is. I only know what turns to make.”

“Works for me.” The driver started the car, and drove off again.

Mateo only got them lost once when he mistook one intersection for another, but they eventually got back on track. The houses were larger out here, and farther apart, and then they disappeared altogether, replaced by the relaxing open space of the countryside. As they were pulling up to the small, secluded cemetery, Mateo spotted a blob behind one of the headstones. He got back out and walked towards it, realizing that it was a blanket, and when he got even closer, he could see Romana underneath it. She was with a boy. They were both asleep. “Romy!”

Romana awoke suddenly. “Dad! What the hell are you doing here?”

“Looking for you. It’s September 9.”

“Oh my God, are you serious?” She let the blanket drop as he rubbed her face. I lost track of time.”

The boy extended his hand towards Mateo. “It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Nieman. I’m Boyd Maestri, and I’m in love with your daughter.”

Mateo stared at the NPC in disgust before looking back at Romana. “You were asleep and unresponsive for a whole day. Romy, this isn’t all right. We’re worried sick about you out there. You looked almost dead, floating in that pool.”

She stood up and started putting her clothes back on. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to cause a fuss. My external sensors must be acting up.”

“Yeah, that can happen when you have sex in VR.”

“VR?” the fake Boyd asked. “You have VR goggles? Can I try them?”

“He doesn’t really look like the real Boyd,” Mateo pointed out.

“I just couldn’t come up with another name. It’s not really him. He’s new.”

“Whatever,” Mateo said. “He’s staying here, and we’re going. Wake up.”

“I can’t just leave him here,” Romana contended.

“He’s not real!” Mateo argued.

“Yes, he is!” Romana shot back. “He’s emerging.”

“Oh my God. Wake up this instant!”

“Just let me call a RideSauce for him. He doesn’t have much money in his account right now.” Romana took out her phone.

“Leave it to you to choose a deadbeat for a faux boyfriend.” Mateo stepped to the side and pointed to the car. She’ll take him back home. Now let’s go.”

“Fine!” Romana shouted. She de-resed.

Mateo de-resed next, and woke up on the cot.

“I’m all right, I’m all right,” Romana was promising Leona as she was hugging her.

“She is,” Mateo agreed. “She wasn’t lost, or confused, or anything. She was just...”

“I believe the word you’re looking for is happy,” Romana said to him.

“You’re a big girl,” Mateo began. “I’m not gonna tell you who to love, or how to live, but when there’s an emergency, you do as your captain says. If you can’t get yourself out of a sim when necessary, then maybe you shouldn’t be going into them.

“What happened to not telling me how to live?” Romana questioned. She looked down at her bikini. “Why am I still wearing this? Is it okay with you if I go back into a pocket to take a shower?”

“Yeah,” Mateo answered. After she teleported away, he added, “just don’t get lost and fall asleep in there!”

“She can’t hear you anymore,” Leona said.

“I know that!” he returned.

“I see that you’re mad,” Leona said. “We don’t have the details, but I trust that it’s justified. I just want you to be careful. She needs your love and support, even if you don’t agree.”

Mateo breathed to calm himself down. “I know that too.”

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Microstory 2443: March 14, 2016

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I came to this dome mostly out of curiosity. Not only does it seem so random and vague, but there’s also no information on it. Most prospectuses in the catalog have a lot of information about what you’re getting into. Even the more secretive ones, like Foggy Forest still give data about temperature and wind patterns, and the types of plantlife that can be found there. It also warns you about how dangerous or troublesome it might be for the younger crowd, or people with heart conditions, or whatever. March 14, 2016 does not have anything. There’s not even a picture associated with it, which was the weirdest part about it. All it shows is the title, and under that, the word “Perfect”. I don’t have a family, or anything going on in my life. I’m guessing that I’ll probably move here on a more permanent basis, so I have plenty of time to explore the other domes. I figured I might as well check this one out, especially since I seem to be the first person to review it. There’s a chance that I was even the first visitor ever? I don’t believe that any other visitor was there at the same time, but it can be hard to tell since the androids just look like people. Though, I will say that no one else seemed confused or weirded out, so I really do think that I was alone. Enough of the build-up, what is March 14, 2016? Well, it appears to be St. Louis, Missouri, presumably the way it looked like on that date. The only reason I say that is because there’s a big arch that looks exactly like the one in the photos. I pulled out my handheld device, and tried to figure out where I was standing at any one time, but nothing seemed to match up. All of the street signs were blank. Almost none of the buildings had signs of any kind, and I’ll get to that here in a bit. First, I wanna tell you that the buildings weren’t real either. They were basically cardboard cutouts, including only the façade. You can walk in them, but be careful with the doors. It’s very unsettling, because there aren’t any interior walls or furniture. It feels like the whole thing is about to come down. Unlike the Kansas City replica dome, this was all fake; not just a replica. Remember when I said that there were androids? Well, not a whole lot of them. They weren’t walking on the sidewalks, or crossing the streets. They weren’t driving the cars—or pretending to drive, anyway, because the vehicles were fake too. They had all congregated in one place. It might sound like a big event or gathering, but that’s not right either. There was a reasonable number of people at a store of some kind, which were common in this time period before they were replaced with free inventoria. Some were wearing blue vests or polo shirts, and name tags, so I’m assuming they worked there. Everyone else was wearing whatever, so they were probably customers. Unlike everywhere else, the store had a sign, but it too was disappointing, because it was just given the generic name of Superstore. The inside was full of stuff; the kind of stuff I’m told would be typical of the age in a store. It had gizmos and gadgets and clothes. People were buying things, and then walking out. Nothing interesting or crazy happened all day. I kind of thought maybe that there was a bombing here, or some kind of attack? Or maybe ghosts would fly out of the walls, and start scaring people. But nothing. Everyone smiled at each other. While no one actually said a word, they behaved as if they were talking to each other. There didn’t appear to be any conflict. At the end of the “day” the store shut down, and hours later, it reopened, and restarted the exact same routine over again. I tried to find any other places of activity, but couldn’t. I did find other Superstore locations, but they weren’t populated. I don’t know what to make of it. Maybe someone else can try it, and see something different.

The Third Rail: Rock the House (Part II)

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They have TV here. They’re able to watch the broadcast of their Rock Meetings, if they so choose. Each episode is about an hour long, and one episode streams per day. At this rate, they’re going to be stuck on this prison world for about eight months. Fortunately for the representatives of the five realities, they’re not in any of the prison facilities. It’s a big planet, and an entire small continent has been devoted to witness protection instead of incarceration. It’s a little odd, to protect people on the same planet as the people they may need to be protected from, but it’s not a completely wild idea. Back in the Third Rail, there was only one inhabited planet, so witness relocation programs always worked like this. In fact, witnesses were rarely ever moved outside of their respective countries. There are no boats here. Any prisoner who wanted to reach a witness would have to first break out of wherever they’re being kept, then build themselves a raft. It would take them months to make it across the ocean, assuming they didn’t get caught anywhere. On the other hand, if they have access to a spaceship, it probably doesn’t matter anymore whether they have to go to a different planet or not.

Some witnesses in the program are a little more dangerous than others, so the continent has been further broken up into cities. The representatives are in the most luxurious of them all, designed for VIPs, leaders under grave threat, and in hiding, and others who need a little more consideration. Ramses was right, the accommodations are pretty good here, but Cosette doesn’t regret insisting on bringing her personal pocket dimension with her. This is her home, and it’s where she feels the most comfortable. She has installed it over the door of one of the closets in her realspace penthouse. Ayata is the one living out there instead, serving as a gatekeeper for visitors or attackers, but otherwise taking a vacation from her duties as an assistant. That’s what she’s meant to be doing anyway. “Tea and seaweed crackers? It’s a local delicacy.”

They’re by the water, about 300 meters above the surface. Each tower sits on top of the base, which grants access to a dedicated elevator and emergency stairwell. Only the structure at the top contains living space. The towers are structurally connected to one another, but there is no passage between them. You would have to go down to the first floor, and walk across the lobby, to get to another tower. “Ayata, I brought you here so you could have a break, not so you could keep working for me,” Cosette tries to explain for the umpteenth time. I thought it was a pretty good excuse, since there’s always work to be done back on Earth, so we’re always so busy. There is no business to take care of for the time being. Just relax.”

“I don’t...like doing nothing,” Ayata admits.

“Have you ever tried it?”

“Not really.”

Cosette sighs. “Do you know where that seaweed comes from?”

“The ocean?” Ayata asks in a half-question, unsure if she’s taking the full meaning here, or not.

“That ocean right there.” Cosette points through the windows. They’re not exactly real windows. They are viewscreens which are showing what the real windows see from the penthouse. They would have to leave the pocket dimension to look through them for real. “Why don’t you synthesize a sexy bikini, go down there, and sun yourself on the beach? Maybe meet someone new.”

“Ambassador DuFour,” Ayata scolds.

“Not to breach sexual harassment policy, but I remember wishing that I had shown my body off more when I was your age.”

Ayata was born in the Sixth Key. She doesn’t know what the world was like before the Reconvergence. “You can be my age if you want,” she reminds her boss.

Cosette leans her head against the backrest, and tilts her chin to the side. “I think I’m done age-shifting. I deal with people from the Parallel and the Fourth Quadrant so much, and they cured aging ages ago. It’s just not really much of an advantage anymore. Maybe it never was.”

“So which age are you going to choose? This one?”

She’s presently expressing the mid- to late thirties, which is still a bit older than how Nuadu appears. “I think so. It’s a good middle ground. I’m old enough to be respected, but young enough to be accessible.”

“And you’re not unattractive,” Ayata says with a smile. “Not to breach sexual harassment policy.”

Cosette smiles back.

“This wouldn’t happen to do with a certain military man who lives next door, would it? The one who’s always coming over to do his rounds?”

“He’s checking the perimeter,” Cosette reasons. “He’s been trained to be a protector.”

“No, he’s been trained as a killer. Those are the kind of soldiers who rank up to high leadership positions. He only comes over to see you.”

Cosette scoffs quietly, and shakes her head.

“How about this? How about you age yourself to seventy or eighty, and ask him to stay for dinner. Cook him a real meal; not synthesized, and give the room some ambiance. If he’s responsive, and engaged in conversation, he’s interested in you as a person, not just for your looks.”

“Maybe he’ll just say no, and I won’t learn anything. It won’t even necessarily be because of my apparent age.”

“He can’t say no,” Ayata reasons. “You’re going to cook for him to say thank you for all he’s done. He’s on vacation, so he doesn’t have anything to do. If he comes up with an excuse, I guess that’s your answer.”

“I haven’t cooked in a long time,” Cosette reveals.

“Well, I’ll help you. I like doing things the old way sometimes. I’ll probably be in charge of ambiance too since your taste is a little...”

“Bland? Is that the word you’re looking for?”

“Hey, you said it.” There’s a ring at the elevator downstairs. They look over at the security monitor to see Nuadu waiting patiently in the lobby. Ayata smirks. “Heh, it’s kismet.”

“House, let ‘im up,” Cosette instructs. They continue to watch as the doors open, and let Nuadu inside. He rides up to the top, walks inside, and is about to knock on the closet door when it opens. “Nice to see you, Harbinger.”

“Ambassador-at-Large,” he replies cordially.

“Would you like to come in for some tea and seaweed crackers?” She’s suddenly struck with a sense of relief that she and Ayata stopped to talk about the crackers first, before diving into them. They still look all nice and untouched.

“I really shouldn’t stay too long,” Nuadu says apologetically. “I’m afraid I woke up too late this morning, and I’m a little behind schedule.”

This looks like a pretty good opening. “Well, perhaps you can return this evening for dinner? I’ve been looking for a good excuse to cook.”

“Yeah, that sounds great.” He says it with a bit too much enthusiasm, but he knows if he tries to backpedal now, the drastic shift in tone will only make him look even more eager. So he widens his eyes, freezes up, and waits for Cosette to continue the conversation instead.

“Great! No pressure, but think about what you like to eat, and text me a message later. Include your dietary restrictions, of course. Maybe within the hour?”

“I can do that, thanks.” He looks over at Ayata. “And will the lovely Miss Seegers be joining us?”

Ayata stammers a bit. “I have a date with the, uhh...God of the Sea...tonight.” She smiles awkwardly. “I’m going on a walk. My boss says I work too hard, and she’s making me take a break. Away from here.” Nice save.

Cosette hopes that her comment doesn’t make Nuadu uncomfortable. Perhaps he missed Ayata’s emphasis on the word I. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to,” she says to Ayata, under her breath, but obviously loud enough for everyone in the room to hear.

“I believe that you will enjoy the beach at night,” Nuadu adds. “There are some bioluminescent sea creatures that come out after dusk. I don’t know what they are, but Andrei Orlov of the Fourth Quadrant likes to watch them. Perhaps you could meet up with him.”

“Thanks, I’ll give him a call.” Ayata points over her own shoulder. “I gotta go into the other room now.” She points at Cosette. “Unless you need something first.”

“No, that will be all, Ayata. Thanks.”

Ayata nods reverently, then walks away.

Cosette waits until she’s gone before admitting, “I’ve been trying to get her to slow down for a while now. We just kind of had a tiff about it. She doesn’t really understand that she’s not here to work.”

“I get where she’s comin’ from,” Nuadu replies. “I’m still workin’.”

“But you know you don’t have to, right? The Tanadama installed automated sentries all over the place. You passed at least two of them on your way here from your tower.”

“I know, but I just kind of...like to see the people.”

Cosette nods. “Well, I’ll let you get back to it.” She points towards the door as if he’s just about to leave.

“Yeah, I’m gonna—” He motions to the side of him.

“Right, right. You always start in the...parlor.” Her voice softens in a gradient as the sentence goes on. She steps a little to the side so he can do his made up job.

He does what he needs to do, inside the pocket and out, and then he leaves to run a security sweep of the other towers. Or maybe he never does that, and he only ever comes here. Cosette has never asked any of the others about it, and they’ve not brought it up on their own. They don’t interact all that much. If they didn’t grow up accustomed to the isolation of self-sufficient living, the last week they’ve been here has given them the requisite experience. That was evidently a major issue in the Parallel and the Fifth Division. Avoiding congregating in large groups was easy in the former, and in some cases, vital to survival in the latter. As the more seasoned diplomat of them all, perhaps she ought to take it upon herself to make changes to that. They’re going to be here for so long, they should get to know each other better.

Night has fallen, and the hour of the date—or non-date—is quickly approaching. Cosette is putting the finishing touches on her decorations, which she decided to do in realspace, instead of her pocket dimension. She didn’t end up accepting help from Ayata, save for a few minor tasks, and some constructive criticism. If this was going to mean anything, it had to come from Cosette, or he may as well be on a date with Ayata. Was this a date? Would he say as much? She’s about to have her opportunity to gauge his feelings based on his reaction to all this. The mood lighting alone will be hard to ignore. There’s an elevator notification. He’s early, so she’s not quite ready. Instead of wasting more time on more matches, she uses one of the lit ones to light the rest, and it occurs to her that this is how she should have done it the entire time, and she’s kind of an idiot. How did people live like this in the past? She was going for a classic, rustic feel, but it has been a lot of work. Will he appreciate the retro look, or will he be super confused since his civilization has just about always had robots and spaceships. Oh my God, she’s thinking about this too much. Answer the door. Answer the door!

She races to the security panel. “Come on up!” She tries to hit the elevator button, but she fumbles. Then she fumbles again. “Goddammit.” She finally hits her target, then taps the intercom button again. “Okay, now! Sorry.” As she’s watching the graphic of the elevator fly upwards, she remembers that Ayata suggested she look like an elderly woman to see if he’s here for her, or for her looks. Now she’s not so sure if she wants to go through with that. He’s almost here, she has to make a decision. Will it just throw him off? Will it be too distracting? Her age-shifting is a choice, she’ll look like an asshole if she’s all wrinkly and gross. He’s getting closer. She’ll have no excuse, or will she? Can she come up with some believable reason? Can she do it in the next five seconds? Four, three, two, one.

The elevator doors open, and Nuadu steps into the penthouse looking at a 55 or 56 year old woman. He’s shocked, but maybe not bothered? He looks her up and down. “Wow, you look gorgeous tonight.”

“Do you really think so?” Though she compromised on the aging, she’s not come up with a plausible explanation for not being thirty at the oldest. She ought to make herself look as hot as possible.

“Yeah, that dress is beautiful.”

“Thanks, it’s conventionally made, not synthesized.”

“I can tell. It doesn’t look...too ordered; cold. If that makes any sense.”

She smiles. “Come on in. Can I take your coat?”

“Yes, thank you.”

They have a nice dinner together. Though the food is not synthesized, as she promised it wouldn’t be, she didn’t exactly churn her own butter either. The penthouse came equipped with a number of advanced cooking tools and machines which her people never invented in the Third Rail. Though it’s certainly too early to say that the two of them are in love, it feels safe to acknowledge that it was indeed a date. The way he was looking at her, he’s definitely interested in something more. At one point, she gradually started aging herself up, and he didn’t bat an eye. After they were done eating, they retired to the sitting room for tea, at which point she caught her reflection in a decorative mirror, and asked whether he even noticed that she was 75 at this point. She explained that it happens on its own when she’s not being careful, and he told her that he didn’t care. There’s definitely something between them, they just need time to explore it. Luckily, they have eight months for that.

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Extremus: Year 95

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Lataran doesn’t call much, but when she does, it’s usually pretty important, albeit not typically an emergency anymore. Tinaya finishes up her scheduled duties, and then walks down to Admiral Wing at a deliberate but unhurried pace. She reaches up to ring the doorbell, but the door behind her opens. “Oh, hi.” What are you doing over there? What’s in that room?”

“Your future office,” Lataran replies with a smirk.

“Huh?”

“When you’re an admiral,” Lataran says as if it’s obvious.

“I thought we would share,” Tinaya explains, gesturing towards the other door.

“You think they would only build one office for all admirals?” Lataran questions. “Captains are supposed to sit down young, and sit back up when they’re still young. There should conceivably be three admirals at once. The much smaller third one, plus an extra space, are down that hallway.”

“Oh.” Tinaya tries to step into her new work space, but remains blocked.

“Don’t just walk in. That’s so unceremonious. I’m here to give you a tour.”

Tinaya drops her face into a sinister grin.

“No, don’t.”

She deepens the grin, then makes a short-range jump to the other side of the wall. She expects to find an office much like the one that Lataran has been working out of, but it’s much different. For one, it’s at least three times the area, and that’s just on the one floor. There’s also a mezzanine that wraps around the whole perimeter. Was this really meant to be an office, or some sort of shared recreational space? It would sure work for that. Part of it is made out of metal and metamaterials, like one would expect out of a transgalactic starship, but there’s also an artificial grass path that weaves through an impressively complex flower garden. It takes her a moment to notice the fountain, which leads to a very narrow stream before being pumped back up through the system. There are several trees known for thriving in indoor environments, but also a couple that are generally limited to the outdoors. Hopefully the Japanese maple and crape myrtle were genetically modified to stop growing before they reach the ceiling. Speaking of the ceiling, hologram viewscreens curve up the wall to meet each other in the center. They were surely an aftermarket add-on that was never in the original designs. Lataran has to have put a ton of work into this project, even if she commissioned someone else to build it all for her.

“I know what you’re thinking, but I didn’t involve anyone else. An admiral is not allowed to give orders, so I did it all myself. It’s taken me years to get it to this point. I gave myself a buffer year, but obviously didn’t need it, and was too excited to wait to reveal it to you.”

“This is for me?” Tinaya questions.

“It’s for us,” Lataran clarifies. She glides over to the workstation sector, where two desks are sitting perpendicular to each other on either side of a corner. “Here, the next captain can see both of us at the same time when he needs help.”

“Or she,” Tinaya reflexively corrects. “Or they, or whatever.”

“It’s gonna be a boy, I can feel it.”

Tinaya chuckles, and steps deeper into the office to admire the garden. She takes a deep breath, accepting the sweet scent of the jasmine overpowering all other flowers in the room. There is lavender here too, as well as... She smiles, and gently runs her fingers along the petals. “Lilacs. Nice.”

“She’ll never see ‘em, but I figured I might as well remind you of one of your friends since she’s one of the few people you know named after things.”

“I appreciate that. I can’t believe you did all this.” It’s a little bittersweet, seeing the fruits of Lataran’s solo labor, knowing that in another reality, they worked on it together. But it probably would have been too much, and couldn’t have gotten done, due to her split focus with Silveon, Waldemar, and the ship as a whole. This was likely the best call, and a very lovely gesture. “I love you, Admiral Keen.”

“I love you, Captain Leithe II.” To Tinaya’s knowledge, she’s the only one on this tin can to call her Leithe II. People don’t really talk about the fact that she’s a legacy, and Tinaya doesn’t think too much about it herself. Truthfully, she’s always identified more with Admiral Perran Thatch, who wasn’t even ever a captain. What will it feel like when she reaches his rank, and if he were here today, what would he think of her?

“There’s one more thing that I need to show you,” Lataran says after giving her friend some time to soak in the beauty. She deliberately closes and locks the door to the hallway, even though not many people are authorized to be down here, and even fewer ever actually exercise that authority. She leads Tinaya up to the mezzanine level, and over to what appears to be a random spot along the catwalk, though it does seem to be intentionally behind the canopy of the maple. Lataran carefully looks around, apparently paranoid about looky-loos. No one could be here right now, though. There’s a self-contained teleportation controller on all high executive areas, like this and the captain’s stateroom. You can’t just show up unannounced.

“What are we—”

“Shh!” Lataran scolds in a loud whisper before transitioning into a regular whisper. “This is illegal. Very illegal.” She looks around once more, then kneels down to tap on the wall where it meets the floor. Glyphs glow faintly upon contact, but disappear quickly. After she’s finished inputting the secret access code, a square on the pathway disappears, revealing a hole leading to a very small room below. It’s more like a pod, but maybe for a few people. Minimal lighting flickers on automatically.

Tinaya looks over the edge of the catwalk. She recalls seeing the space under this from below. There’s no room here; it’s just more flowers and fake grass. The pod room must be in a pocket dimension of some kind.

“Trickle charged power reservoir, sourced gradually from the grid,” Lataran still whispers as she’s climbing down the ladder. “Undetectable as long as you don’t operate this too frequently, or for too long.”

“Operate what?” Tinaya asks, respecting the whisper.

“Come down here. And push that green button to close the door.”

Once Tinaya’s at the bottom, she looks down at the floor, and realizes that they’re standing in an undecagon, which is the same shape as the Nexus chamber, though that one is much larger. It’s an atypical number of sides to use for a room, so it’s either only an homage to that, or something more. “What the hell is this?” she questions, hoping that it’s the former.

“Backdoor Nexus access. From here, you can go back and forth to Verdemus without anyone else knowing. I know you left some people there.”

“This is illegal.”

“D’uh, I said that earlier.”

“I thought you just had alcohol down here, or something?”

“What? Gross! No. Omega built this here in case the main Nexus building were ever compromised by a corrupt government, or just some asshole.”

“How is this even possible? I thought that these machines had to be built to exact specifications.”

“They do,” Lataran agrees, “but once you do that, you can add satellite locations. Omega says that one of the floors above the control room serves the same purpose, but you can’t get there unless the gods let you in, or some shit. They have to like you, unless you wanna build your own backdoor, which is what he did here.”

“This isn’t okay, Lataran.”

“Okay, have me arrested,” she goads in a mocking voice.

Tinaya sighs. “You know I can’t do that. But I can’t use this either.”

“You don’t have to, but it’s here, and you had a right to know, and now that you do, you can decide whether anyone else does, like your husband, or your successor.”

“Okay, I’m leaving.” Tinaya reaches back up for the ladder. “Thanks for telling me. Let’s never talk about it ever again.”

“Very well.”

They start to climb back up until Tinaya finds herself face to face with Spirit Bridger. “Oh, crap.”

“Oh, crap, to you too,” Spirit jokes.

“Sorry, I just didn’t expect to find you here,” Tinaya says as she’s pushing herself back onto solid ground, and helping Lataran up behind her. “You were on Verdemus.”

“I was,” Spirit confirms, “but as you know, we have this little thing called a Nexus, which lets us travel back and forth.”

“That’s only become more regulated, and more difficult to pull off over the last few years,” Tinaya contends.

“Until now.” She jerks her chin toward the baby Nexus below them, the entrance of which waits a few more seconds before sealing itself off with its metamorphic nanites.

“You came through here?” Lataran searches through her armband. “I should have received an alert if anyone had done that, and there are a number of redundancies.”

Spirit smiles and slides a finger along the wall next to her. “There’s a direct power connection between the main Nexus and the satellite. We can appear anywhere along that pathway. The fact that you ran it along the scope of almost the whole ship means that’s just about anywhere. Can’t go back from anywhere, though...hence, I’m here.”

“That’s a security flaw,” Lataran points out.

“Indeed,” Spirit agrees.

Lataran looks back down at the floor. “I need to speak with Omega about that.”

“You’re too busy,” Tinaya reminds her. We’re approaching the transitional period, where we’ll end up with a new captain. Spirit can go coordinate with the Strongs to patch the vulnerability. Right, Spirit? You were going back there anyway.”

“Precisely,” Spirit replies.

“Then it’s settled.” Tinaya faces Spirit. “Play it close to the vest, please. We’ll keep the circle tight on our end too. Now, I gotta go. Silvy is getting out of school soon.”

“How’s the little bug?” Spirit asks.

“Precocious,” Tinaya replies, being honest, but still protecting yet another secret.

They say their goodbyes, and then Tinaya does head off to greet her son in the stateroom after school. But then she hands him off to Zefbiri shortly thereafter. It’s date night tonight. A normal couple with a five-year-old child would have to take breaks like this to make sure they don’t get burnt out on parenting, but while they don’t live with the same worries, they do have others. As Silveon grows, he becomes more and more capable of caring for himself, and inches closer and closer to whatever age he truly was when this started, but for now, he needs breaks too. He can be more himself with his parents, but he also has to be a certain way around them. It’s just different when it comes to his aunts. Zef was made aware of the situation a couple years ago. It didn’t make much sense for them to rely on her for guardianship responsibilities when she didn’t even understand who she might one day have to raise. Tinaya and Arqut are also aging, and could honestly be gone someday soon. The whole point is to be prepared.

The two of them are smiling at each other from opposite sides of the table, taking small bites here and there. A white tablecloth is covered in small plates which once held a dozen courses, each one a fairly small portion. A thistle bot has been serving them, and all the other guests are NPCs, which he programmed to ignore the humans. Thistle is still in the closet as a true, independent intelligence, and has been doing well. He can keep a secret, so they sometimes come to this simulation room for private conversations which can look like anywhere. This particular conversation has been pleasant, noncontroversial, and currently in a lull. Tinaya can tell that he wants to say something. “Go on, love. What is it? I know there’s something on your mind.”

He nods, and averts his gaze a small degree to the side. “Do you remember when I disappeared, and had that adventure on Earth in the future?”

“Yes, I remember. I’m constantly worried that that lemonhead will decide to steal you away from us again.”

“I took precautions,” Arqut insists. “It’s not about that. It’s about what happened to me while I was there.” He prepares himself. “I absorbed a ton of temporal energy, which I believed would harmlessly evaporate from me over time. We believe that that’s exactly how it would have worked had I stayed on Earth, but this...ship is a capsule, built with an incidental barrier of temporal energy of its own, zipping through space at hyper-relativistic speeds. There was nowhere for it to evaporate. Don’t worry, it doesn’t hurt, but I’ve been in contact with Dr. Cernak and Sabine Lebeau. It seems that my body has been metabolizing it, and altering me on a genetic level. They’re calling me a chosen one, though I may be something entirely different since the energy I took came from an eclectic group of time travelers, so we just don’t really know.”

“What does this mean? Can you...do something?”

“Don’t freak out.” Arqut sits very still. As his wife is watching him, the wrinkles in his face flatten out. His skin gets its glow back, and his hair turns dark once more. In seconds, he looks as young as he was when they first met.

You’re a retroverter,” Tinaya determines.

“Hopefully,” he says. “Obviously, I can do it to myself, and Sabine and Radomil are working on making it transferable. They’ll figure it out, and when they do, it means that we could start over. We could raise our son as twentysomethings; healthy and lively again. We may even be able to live forever. I know, I should have told you sooner, but this could be so good for us. What do you think? Are you interested?”

Tinaya daintily taps the cloth napkin against her lips before calmly laying it across her most recent plate. Still, she waits to respond, first staring him in the face for an uncomfortably long time. Finally, she quite confidently says, “no.”

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The Advancement of Mateo Matic: Year 1 EXT

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Since it was too risky to even attempt to use the quintessence drive again, Ramses engaged a short reframe burst to the planet where the signal was coming from. Once they arrived in orbit, they found there to be no lifesigns aboard the other ship. This wasn’t surprising as the design suggested it to be completely automated, meant to prepare the surface for habitation at a later date. It deployed dropships to begin construction on geodesic diamond domes, which was funny, because the atmosphere was fairly comparable to Earth’s. With only a minimal amount of bioengineering, any organic human should be able to survive unaided by external technologies. Leona posited that the onboard systems were not smart enough to realize this. They were programmed to build domes, and fill them with oxygenated air generated via electrolysis, so that was precisely what they were doing. It didn’t even seem to detect the Vellani Ambassador’s presence at all. So they just stayed out of its way.

Curious, the team hung out for the rest of the day until midnight central hit, staying invisible so they wouldn’t be seen by anyone else. The domes were completed by the time they returned to the timestream, and a second ship had arrived in the meantime. There could be people here now. “I’ll go down,” Olimpia volunteered.

“Just you?” Leona asked.

“Well, I wouldn’t dare go alone,” Olimpia clarified. “Perhaps Mateo could come with me for support? I believe that I can keep him invisible too, but taking any more may be too difficult.”

Leona sighed. “No one’s going down right now. Rambo, just keep an eye on the surface. Send an invisible probe, and gather some recon data for us. Pia, could I speak with you for a moment?”

When they were alone in the second pocket dimension, Olimpia spoke up rather defensively. “I know what you’re going to say, but this is how I contribute. I can’t dispatch and control probes, and I can’t mediate diplomatic discussions. I happen to be good at invisibility, so let me use that.”

“I don’t have a problem with you leaning on your strengths. I don’t have a problem at all. But I did want to speak with you about you and my husband.”

“What about us?”

“He told me what happened in the simulation.”

“I don’t know what he said—”

“He told me the truth,” Leona interrupted. “He told me that the two of you have been inching towards each other ever since you met, like a derelict satellite caught in a decaying orbit.”

“Okay, well I don’t know that I would describe it like that...”

“You’re right, because the satellite would just burn up in the atmosphere. And I don’t want that. The metaphor doesn’t work anyway, because it doesn’t account for me.”

“What are you saying?” Olimpia asked.

“Do you know who Serif is?”

“Yeah, she was a clay woman who came to life while you were living on Tribulation Island. She left to go save the multiverse from the Ochivari’s virus, or something.”

“She was carved from stone, not clay. She was more than only another member of our crew at the time. I was in love with her. I still am, to an extent. My brain contains memories of her that never took place. Mateo didn’t even have those fake memories, though, and when he disappeared from the timeline altogether, she and I only grew closer, because I couldn’t remember him either. When he came back...it was like falling in love with him all over again. And Serif was...sort of left out in the cold. Our three-person relationship didn’t work, because it was uneven.”

“I’m still not following.”

“There are six of us here, and we all love each other, in various ways. Angela and Marie are sisters who were once the same person. Mateo and Ramses are best friends. He and I are married. And you? You’re falling in love with him, if you haven’t already. I believe that he’s experiencing the same thing, at his own pace.”

“I’m not a homewrecker,” Olimpia argued.

“I know, and I don’t want you to be. None of us does. That’s why it’s a problem. Even if you push through it, ignore your feelings, and find someone else, this connection between you two will never go away. Instead of letting it be the way that it is, I propose a—shall we call it—an unconventional response. As I said, we all love each other, so I don’t think it’s completely impossible for you and me to...”

Olimpia shook her head slightly as Leona trailed off. “To what, fall in love with each other too? To save your marriage, and the team, you want to force a polyamory triangle?”

“Well, I don’t see it as being forced.”

“Are you even attracted to me?”

“Have you even seen a mirror before?”

Olimpia blushed a little. “This is weird.”

“I know, and it may blow up in our faces, but if we don’t try something, it definitely will. I don’t want one of us to become the next Serif. Nothing has happened between you two yet, so let’s go on this journey together. Let’s not keep secrets, and hide our true selves. You don’t have to come up with an excuse to spend time with him. You and I would be better suited for the ground mission. You have the invisibility, I have the brains. I didn’t mean to say it like that, I’m sorry. I know that sounds mean.”

“It’s fine,” Olimpia assured her. “I know I’m not stupid. I’m just uneducated, because whenever my teacher tried to ask me to respond to a query, I would give the answer several times in a row.”

Olimpia was the only one still wearing a Cassidy cuff, but still Leona would forget that this was because of her sonic echoing time affliction. She had a pretty good reason for her lack of life experiences. “Right, I get that.” She paused for a moment. “So. Are you willing to try this weird thing? It’s unusual, to say the least, but I don’t just want to be the jealous, resentful wife who denies my man’s desires because society has told me that only two people are allowed to be together at any one time.”

Olimpia reached up, and took a lock of Leona’s hair out from behind her ear to let it fall in front of it.

“What was that for?”

“So I could do this...” She reached up again, and tucked the hair back behind Leona’s ear, placing their faces close together as well. “Gut reaction, how did that feel? Uncomfortable? Awkward? Breathtaking?”

“Both B and C maybe,” Leona answered.

Olimpia giggled. “I suppose that people date each other all the time without knowing where it’s going. That’s the whole point of the dates. All we’re doing is agreeing that true love is the end goal, and admitting that if we don’t reach that goal, I’m gonna die alone. I’m a time traveler, and my options are limited. So if you and I can’t make it work, it probably means that the only reason I fell in love with Mateo is because, to me, he may as well be the last man on Earth.”

“So, that’s what we’ll do. We’ll take it slow, start with a first date; no sex.”

“No sex,” Olimpia agreed. “No sex...at all. If you really want to give this a shot, I think you two need to pretend like you’re not already together, just for a time.”

Leona nodded, considering the parameters. “I think that makes sense. Polyamory doesn’t work unless there’s mutuality. Without that, it just devolves into polygamy.”

“Yeah. So it’s settled. You and I will go down to check out the dome while Mateo sets up a romantic date for us.”

“Is that what we settled on, that he does all the work?”

“You and I had the hard conversation,” Olimpia reasoned. “Let him do something.”

The two of them called Mateo into the pocket to essentially have the same conversation all over again until he came to the same conclusion. It was definitely weird until he looked at it from the correct angle. They had to be active participants in this situation, rather than trying to let the chips fall where they may, and hoping that none of them flew up to hit someone in the eye. He had no problem with staying home to set up their first three-person date together while the womenfolk went off to figure out what was going on with the planet below.

Ramses agreed to help once he was clued into the new dynamic. “Dude, that’s great, man. Two ladies, I hear that’s kinda the dream.”

“It’s not like that,” Mateo argued.

“Bullshit. Ya know, you can appreciate someone for their mind, and their body at the same time.”

“What would you know about it?” Mateo asked.

“I still have sexual needs, I just choose to fulfill them on my own.”

“So, you’re not annoyed that I’ve found two special people, and you’ve not even found one?”

“Nah, it’s cool. Really. I’ve always been ultra-focused on my work. Creating something that does exactly what I want it to do is the closest thing to a relationship that I’ve ever needed. I might have thought twice about turning myself into a time traveler if I felt the compulsion to seek out a mate.” He stopped setting the plates down. “Ugh. This dimension is so bland. I can’t work with this. I think you need to have your date in a simulation.”

“No, it has to be a real place with real food,” Mateo contended. “If I just ask the computer to make something perfect, I’ll have done nothing.”

“Let me help.” Angela was in the doorway.

Mateo was worried. “Angie, I didn’t know you were in this pocket.”

“I was bored. And you forgot to switch off your comm disc again. We all heard everything.”

Mateo widened his eyes in horror. “Leona?”

“It’s fine, love. Just locker room talk. It’s perfectly normal to have a conversation with your friends about someone you haven’t had sex with yet.”

“Huh?” Ramses was as confused as Angela.

“We’re starting from scratch,” Mateo explained. He turned away to speak into his disc again. “Okay, I’ll see you two tonight. I won’t say I love you, because I don’t know you very well yet. Okay, love you, bye.” He tapped it off. “Dammit.”

“Aww,” Angela feigned fawning.

“Did you say you could help with something?” Mateo asked her, embarrassed.

“This new girl you’re seeing,” Angela joked, “called it four-dimensional holography. We all appear to have our own specialties, and mine is being able to generate images that last across time without me having to be focused on them. I can just set something up, and walk away, so I’m confident that I can make this room look like anything,” she said, looking around, and taking mental notes of a few ideas.

“Wow. That’s very exciting, and not the least bit concerning since I seem to be the only one who’s not particularly good at creating holograms in any special sort of way.”

“I don’t have a specialty either,” Ramses claimed.

“Are you kidding me?” Mateo asked. “You take our power, and replicate it in technology. This ship is invisible.”

“Yeah, well, I guess.”

“So, what were we thinking?” Angela asked, putting the conversation back on track. “Grand banquet hall? Kitschy theme restaurant? Low stakes fast-casual joint?”

Mateo thought through his options, which were apparently limitless. “Um. Let’s go with quaint small town bar and grill that used to be City Hall before they built the new one ten years ago.”

“I think I can make that work.” Angela began to throw up some holograms, adjusting bits and pieces here and there, taking in input from the two guys and her sister, until they had something as original as possible while still channeling photons from real places elsewhere in spacetime.

After Leona and Olimpia came back from their little mission, they showered, and showed up for the date. Marie served as their waiter, because she wanted to be a part of it too. She has a hypertime food synthesizer to make the food, but she elected to sit and wait to make it feel more real. The dinner was nice. They didn’t hold onto the ruse about being strangers on a blind date. They discussed their real lives, acknowledging that they were quite familiar with each other already. The whole team was there, with Ramses and Marie having their own meal together as friends. So they were able to hear the mission debrief too. A very young Bronach Oaksent was in the dome with none other than Elder Caverness. They were seemingly the only two people on the planet, besides the secret spies. They were currently calling it Ex-001, which Leona once mistakenly believed to be the seat of power for the Exin Empire. So it did exist, but instead of being the most important world, it was simply the first one to be settled. It made Mateo wonder, what would become of it thousands of years from now? Would it end up holding secrets that were just waiting to be exploited?

The meal was a success, which wasn’t surprising, because they were all friends, and there was nothing to fight about at the moment. As promised, it did not end in sex. In fact, Mateo retired to his own room in the second pocket dimension, as he would if this really were his first evening with a new prospect. They chose not to worry too much about what was happening on Ex-001, or how they would involve themselves. They couldn’t be sure how much would change during their interim year. As it turned out, quite a lot. There were now 147 new people living there.

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