The Advancement of Mateo Matic: August 11, 2524

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It wasn’t until the next year when Mateo, Leona, and Angela could safely reactivate their tandem slingdrives. They technically could have left shortly before midnight, but they decided it was for the best. They left a message with the Vitalie who lived on Vitalemus, to relay to the Vellani Ambassador if she ever heard from again. She hadn’t, but had kept apprised of Goldilocks Corridor news, and no one had reported seeing them lately, so no one knew where they were at this point. With nothing left for them here, they made the jump, and returned to the beacon floating around in the space where Castlebourne once was. They weren’t alone. They quickly picked up comms from Ramses, Marie, Olimpia, and Romana. They only had to make a few jumps to rendezvous with each other.

“Gang’s all here,” Mateo mused.

“How did you get back here?” Angela asked the other half of their team.

“You were taking too long,” Ramses began to explain. “We decided to come back here to see if you were stranded after failing to track Castlebourne’s new location. The rest is obvious. We were just about to come find you on Vitalemus.”

“Did you put a pocket dimension in the buoy thinking Romana would be able to use it?” Leona asked.

“No, that didn’t occur to me,” Ramses replied. “It was just a failsafe if something went wrong. With no other habitable structure around here, there needed to be some way to survive, like if you had a stranger in tow with a less advanced vacuum suit, or no suit at all. As it turns out,” he went on while tapping a piece of the buoy that he had separated from the rest, “it was necessary.”

“Is someone in there?” Leona questioned.

“You’ll see.” That was a weird way to put it.

“Can we all go back to Castlebourne together now?” Mateo asked.

Ramses shook his head. “I’m afraid this was a one-way trip. Hrockas scrambled the tracker from his end. Where they are by now is a mystery. I could probably write an algorithm that could predict their movements using their last known location. The choosing one he’s using to push the host star around is powerful, but she has her limits. They can’t be all the way to the outer arm of the Milky Way, or something. But we would have to leave something behind to keep trying to track them...”

“Or I could do it again,” Romana volunteered.

“No,” Mateo countered decisively. “I don’t want you breaking your pattern ever again.”

“Do we really need to find Castlebourne at all?” Marie asked the group. “We were trying to leave it at one point.”

“That’s true, I remember that now,” Mateo affirms. It was the closest thing to home they had ever had, but it was always going to end eventually. It was supposed to end a long time ago, but they got sidetracked with all that Pacey-Underburg stuff, which kept them tied to Castlebourne for a bit longer.

“Do you want to try another aimless jump?” Romana offered.

“And end up back in that hellhole?” Leona added. “No, thanks.”

“It wasn’t that bad,” Romana reminded them. “I liked the outfits.”

“You could always wear that kind of outfit, whenever you want,” Leona said.

“True,” Romana replied. She shed her suit, and shifted her nanites to a 1950s-esque dress, not exactly like the kind she wore when they were oblivious and trapped in Underburg, but similar.

“Put your suit back on,” Mateo shouted.

Romana couldn’t reply in the vacuum, but she could still hear via conduction, yet she pushed the back of her ear forward as if she couldn’t even do that. After her father pointed at her with stern determination, she switched her suit back on. “Geeze, Papa Bear,” she joked. “Rambo’s got me covered. That man knows his way around a woman’s body.”

“Goddammit!” Mateo complained. “Don’t say things like that!”

“Okay, okay,” Leona jumped in, as she usually had to do when those two were at it. Romana knew how to push her dad’s buttons, and Leona knew how to put a stop to it, which was to change the subject as quickly as possible. “Let’s just go back to Earth. I’m feeling a little homesick. And it was home for all of us at some point, though not technically the same version of it.”

“That’s a good idea,” Marie concluded.

Ramses looked at his forearm readout. “My coherence gauge is in the Orange, where are you?”

“We just arrived, so it’s still Red,” Leona answered. “We won’t be ready to jump until nearly the end of the day, probably.”

“I’m doin’ a bottle episode!” Olimpia suddenly shouted.

“I was just thinking about that,” Angela said. “Not the bottle episode thing, that’s nonsense. “We should call it slinging. Why are we calling it jumping?”

“Seconded,” Romana agreed.

“All in favor,” Mateo posed. They raised their hands. “Motion passes. New lingo established.” He paused for a moment. “Great, that entertained us for all of ten seconds. What do we do in the meantime? And don’t say RPS-101 Plus. I don’t like playing in my suit. I can’t control my objects right.”

“You just say that because you consistently lose!” Olimpia teased.

“Mah-ri?” Angela began, “why are you looking around?”

“Oh, we just made a decision to go to Earth,” Marie replied. “That’s usually when God laughs and intervenes.

That was true. Everyone started to look around too, but found only space. The sudden intervention she was talking about didn’t usually happen when they were actively looking for it...kind of a watched pot never boils sort of thing, but it was still prudent to check.

“Do you guys realize there are three wars?” Angela offered. She opened the floor up to anyone, but no one responded. “The Exin Empire, the Sixth Key conflict, and those dragonfly aliens. I don’t know if you’ve realized this, but we’ve been switching between them. Once we close one chapter of one book, we start the next chapter of one of the other two books.”

Ramses glanced down at the piece of the buoy he attached to his chest. Only Mateo noticed, and he chose not to address it.

“Yeah, you’re right about that, aren’t you?” Leona asked rhetorically. “We just closed one of the books, but we don’t know which one we’re about to open, if either of the others.”

“I am curious about what’s going on with the Sixth Key,” Marie admitted. “It’s been a long time. I spent some years in one of those worlds.”

“So did I,” Romana said, referring to having grown up in ancient Third Rail.

“But the Ochivari are so fascinating,” Angela insisted. “We could end up in any universe, dealing with any new, unfamiliar culture.”

“Well, we might be able to trigger the Transit to show up if one of us makes a declaration that we want to fight in a cosmic war, or join the military,” Marie suggested.

“Let’s not do that,” Leona volleyed.

“Then the Sixth Key it is,” Angela responded. “Raise the sails! Navigate us to the aperture!” She pointed in a random direction. It was a little funny, but nobody laughed. They just fell silent for a time.

“That lasted us another five minutes. How’s everybody’s coherence? Mine’s still in the Red. Do we all have to be Green, or...”

“Maybe not,” Ramses explained. “I would feel safer if we were, though. I would feel even safer with Violet.”

“If you’re bored, we could just go into stasis for a few hours. It’s not bad in here. I found it easy to wake back up when they found me.”

“Well, yeah, Rambo knows his way around a woman’s body,” Olimpia echoed Romana from earlier.

“I want a divorce,” Mateo said, joking, but...clearly not happy for real.

The seven of them continued to hang out there while they waited for their coherence gauges to rise up to acceptable levels. They mostly held onto the buoy to stay close to one another, but occasionally, one of them would push off and float around. They could always return by utilizing their maneuvering thrusters, or just teleporting back. That was what gave Romana the idea to play hide-and-seek. It was a dangerous version of the game, which not everyone in the galaxy would be able to play. Because space was empty and black, the chances of finding someone just by the naked eye were incredibly low. They could use their heat signatures instead, but then detection would be incredibly easy. The only way to do it was for each hider to shut off their own life support systems, and stay in one place for long enough for the seeker to find everyone else first. They could still use their comms, but they would be untraceable. Some of them could withstand the cold for longer, and were better at hiding. Others were caught when they just couldn’t take it anymore. At this point, they could try to teleport away, but the seeker could always jump right to them wherever they ended up.

They played the game for a couple of hours before noticing that the same people were winning each time. It was always either Mateo or Ramses, which made this whole thing feel very unfeministic. Even though Ramses supposedly built their superstrates equally, it seemed as though the women got colder faster, just as they would if they were simply wearing business clothes in an office. The coherence gauges still weren’t Green for everybody, but they were sick of playing around, so most of them just took naps. They floated aimlessly there in the black, mostly apart, though Mateo and Olimpia held together like the two lovers they were. Leona was working on the self-destruct sequence for the buoy. Instead of bringing it with them, they were just gonna blow it up, so no one could have any hope of finding any information on it. It took a lot of time and work to engage the explosives. This was by design, so it couldn’t be switched on incidentally, or when the user wasn’t thinking rationally.

Finally, the last of them turned Green, and it was time to leave. Ramses woke everyone up with a calm, but crescendoing, song. They teleported back into a group, and magnetized their suits so they could watch the explosion together. It was a bit anticlimactic because of how fast and efficient it was, but still something worth seeing. They synced up their slingdrives, and with one final goodbye to the Castlebourne that was no longer there, they slung away.

They landed on the surface of what they assumed was Earth. They quickly detected a breathable atmosphere, and were able to recede their nanites into regular clothes. This did look like Earth, but perhaps one from long ago. Earth didn’t really have any cities anymore. They just lived in arcological megastructures, and some seasteads, if they weren’t just orbiting from space. They were on a street, though. The buildings were sleek and advanced, but just too dense for Earth in this time period. People were staring at them, including parents trying to hold their children close. A man approached them cautiously. “Do you mean us harm?” he asked.

Leona stepped forward. “Absolutely not. We’re travelers, attempting to return to Earth.”

The man looked over his shoulder at the crowd, and then back at Leona. “Never heard of it. How did you do that thing with your clothes?”

“Have you heard of other...” Leona trailed off. She slowly darted her eyes side to side, looking for the right way to word this. Unfortunately, the beginning of her sentence might have painted her into a corner. No, she could figure this out. The Prime Directive applied here until she determined otherwise. “...other cities.”

“You mean on the other side of the tunnels?” the man guessed. “Yes. We don’t interact with them, except to exchange some technologies sometimes.”

Tunnels. Leona looked up at the sky, or what appeared to be a sky anyway. She pulled a small swarm of nanites over her eyes, and used them as sensors. “Yeah, that was definitely a hologram, and they were under a dome. Goddammit, they were back on Castlebourne, and in some kind of simulation. Wait.

The man looked up at the sky too, trying to figure out what she was so baffled by.

The dimensions were off. This wasn’t one of the Castlebourne domes. It was too small. Not by much, but other than the ocean caps, and a few rare exceptions, all Castlebourne domes were pretty much the exact same skeletal design. Where would they be where people would be living under a dome, but alarmed by their use of nanite technology. She looked back at the stranger and breathed. “Have you heard of Proxima Doma?”

“Yes,” he replied. “We don’t know what it means.”

Leona looked back at the rest of the team. She just regarded them for a moment, trying to decide the best course of action. There was really only one. They couldn’t teleport, and they couldn’t explain their odd behavior. The locals wouldn’t understand, and it would break their worldview. “Run.”

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The Advancement of Mateo Matic: August 10, 2523

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They should have realized that Ramses!324, a.k.a Tok’ra’s responsibilities and loyalties would remain with the people of New Welrios. Apparently, the two factions there had managed to become one cohesive peoples since the rest of Team Matic—including a different version of Ramses—was there. When they sent Old!Bronach back to the Goldilocks Corridor to reclaim his throne, they asked Team Kadiar to ask Tok’ra for his assistance in this matter. It would be his job to make sure that Old!Bronach became a decent leader, and started treating his people well. They never really found out how Tok’ra took it. They didn’t even know how the crew of the Vellani Ambassador broached the subject; whether it was more a command or more of a request. He apparently accepted his new role out of some sense of guilt, which wasn’t what they wanted. More recently, however, he put his foot down, and returned to his roots on New Welrios.

They had become a powerhouse over the last century, armed with a plethora of technologies that Tok’ra built for them. They were completely untouchable, much in the same way that Vitalemus was. Even The Oaksent was reportedly scared of getting near it, or even sending troops. Also like Vitalemus, they had evidently stayed out of the politics, and were satisfied with being independent and isolated. They were living proof that Oaksent’s hold on this sector of the galaxy wasn’t as strong as they once believed. The movies made it look easy, but it was probably pretty hard to keep control over so many worlds. Things had only gotten harder since the team showed up. They hadn’t realized how much of an impact they had had, but things were looking up.

Leona managed to convince the other parties to let the New Welriosians speak. They didn’t want to be so distant anymore. They wanted to participate in the community. The negotiations started back up again. Some of the agreements they had come up with last year had to be scrapped or replaced, but many weren’t rendered obsolete by this development. They pushed forward, and were almost home free. All that was left were signatures of all parties involved. It may have taken a long time, but they seemed to be able to agree that they wanted peace. That wasn’t possible just a couple of years ago. It was going to be a perpetual struggle, just as it was in the Sixth Key, but they should be able to handle it.

There was just one more thing before the deal could be finalized, at least according to everyone but Tok’ra, Dubra and Kivi, and Team Matic. The other negotiators had evidently come up with a new demand during the interim  year, which they decided not to bring up until the New Welrios situation could be resolved. Korali volunteered to be the one to speak for the group. “We want slingdrive technology.” She smiled, thinking that she had them right where they wanted them. “Nothing gets signed until we get it.”

Mateo stared over the table at her. “There are seven of us in total. We are in this room for you. This is not to our benefit. If you fail to sign these agreements, the VA will continue to ferry refugees to their new rightful home on Castlebourne. And in the midst of all that, the rest of you can fight it out all you bloody want. It’s sad, and we feel for the people of the Goldilocks Corridor, whether they identify with the Exin Empire, or otherwise. We won’t feel bad about our decision to bug out, however, because we did everything we could. And again, there are only seven of us. No one would blame us for failing to fix the whole universe. We will not let you get your hands on this technology. There is no threat you could make to change our minds. So sign it, don’t sign it; I don’t care anymore...our job is done. You never had any leverage against us. We came to this world in good faith to help, but we’ll only let that go so far before we hit our breaking point.” He stood up. “Let’s get out of here, ladies, back to Castlebourne.”

Bronach stood up as well. “If you leave, we can’t guarantee the safety of your new homeworld. Even if we do sign this, nothing we agreed to in the document bars us from attacking your region of the galaxy.”

“Do what you must,” Mateo responded. “We’ll take care of our people.” He looked over at his old friend. “It was nice meeting you, Tok’ra.”

Tok’ra nodded back respectfully.

Mateo, Leona, Angela, and Romana disappeared in a flash of technicolors.

They found themselves floating in the middle of outerspace, rather than on a planet, or even near one. Mateo laughed. “Slingdrive still slingin’.”

“That was a good speech you made, love,” Angela said to him. It was up to Leona to figure out what was going on, and to see if they could determine where they ended up, and they all knew it, so there was no point in vocalizing the plan of action. They just let her do her thing.

“Do you mean it?” Mateo asked.

“You said what we were all thinking,” Romana noted.

“Constellations are the same,” Leona interjected.

“They use constellations here?” Angela questioned.

“Well, they’re not named constellations, like Taurus or Leo. It’s just a map of the firmament as seen from our coordinates. We could be a couple light years off course and still be in the right vicinity, but...I would also be able to see the host star, which I can’t. The whole solar system is missing.”

“Wait, I’m getting a message.” Mateo tapped on his wristband.

“So am I,” Romana confirmed.

They listened to the message together. “Friends. This is Ramses. I can’t tell you what it took to get Hrockas to let me drop this buoy in the water for you to find. He hooked up with a powerful time traveler, who agreed to literally move the star system. This is to prevent any enemy from ever finding us. Ever. Depending on when you return, we’re probably only five or ten light years away at this point. Please retrieve the buoy, so no one else can find us. It includes an onboard tracker, which will pinpoint our exact location. Don’t leave it there, please. Rocky’ll have my ass.”

“I see where the beacon is,” Leona said. “It will only take us one normal jump to get there.”

They all teleported away, and took hold of the buoy. Leona popped the access panel open, and started working on the tracker. It wasn’t just there for them to consult on the first screen. She had to log into the system using her credentials, then go through this whole security system to prove her identity. If she made one little mistake, the entire thing would apparently self-destruct, so she had to be very careful and methodical.

“Do we have enough power for a second jump?” Romana asked. “It’s looking a little low to me.”

“It’ll be pretty short compared to where we just came from,” Mateo said to her. “I’m sure we’ll be fine.”

“We’ll wait several hours to be safe while our safety levels rise,” Leona said as she was still working. “They will not have traveled very far at all in that time.”

“Wait, what about the Vellani Ambassador?” Angela realized. “They need to find Castlebourne’s new location too. In fact, if it’s constantly on the move, they’ll need constant updates to keep up.”

Leona stopped and sighed. “That’s a good point. We can’t leave this here, though. Hrockas will be mad. I’m sure he went to great lengths to hide. The new coordinates cannot be allowed to fall into the wrong hands. But we have no idea when Team Kadiar will come back too. We just left them behind, and we cannot communicate with them from this distance.”

“We have to go back,” Romana urged.

“Correction,” Leona said. She tapped one more button, like it was the last one she needed. “We’ll go back. You need to stay here to protect the buoy. We don’t know what the VA’s quintessence levels are. They might not be able to return until tomorrow. We also may not be able to find them at all, so you can be our back-up messenger.”

“Leona, we’re not leaving my daughter here alone.”

“There’s a pocket dimension attached to this buoy. She can rest in stasis, and wait for someone else to arrive.”

“What if that someone else is an enemy, who blows this thing out of the sky?”

“They won’t be able to find it,” Leona reasoned. “I’m turning off the beacon. Only we or the Ambassador will be able to reconnect with it.”

“It’s okay, dad, I can do this. I’m the only one who can turn off my pattern.”

“I don’t like you to use that loophole all the time,” Mateo argued. “It’s so...lonely. I was never lonely. I met Leona right away after I started slipping time, and it wasn’t even two weeks before she joined my pattern. You shouldn’t have to keep doing this for us. We shouldn’t keep putting you in this position.”

“What’s the point of a loophole if we can’t use it to loop holes?” She winced. “You know what I mean. I won’t really be alone, I’ll be asleep. And I’ll only wake up if my sisters show up.”

He reached out and hugged her the best he could with their suits on. “Argh!”

She smiled at him, then receded her nanites so she was just wearing jeans and a t-shirt. He did the same, so they could hug each other for real. I love you, she mouthed.

I love you too, he mouthed back.

They each reengaged suit mode, then Romana had Leona help her access to pocket dimension. They could still hear her in there through comms, so she was able to promise that everything was okay. It was pitch black, but her suit was equipped with everything she needed. She said her goodbyes, then initiated stasis. Leona needed to watch her vitals, and run diagnostics on her behalf, before they could leave her behind. Once she was satisfied that Romana was going to be all right on her own, it still wasn’t time to leave just yet, because their own slingdrives weren’t safe enough to make another jump. Finally, though, after the waiting period, the three of them synced up their tandem slingdrives, and jumped back to Vitalemus. They were floating in orbit, though, not on the planet anymore, so hopefully no one would even notice their return. It was kind of embarrassing, to make such a dramatic exit, only to come back because they forgot their keys.

They tried to reach out to their friends, but no one was responding. After a few tries, they shifted gears, and made a call to the version of Vitalie on this planet, who informed them that the Vellanie Ambassador had already left, but she didn’t know where they were going. Cool. So now they were stuck in the Goldilocks Corridor with nothing to do, and no way to go back home until their slingdrive came back online.

They just hung in orbit for a few minutes, having no better plans as of yet. They certainly weren’t going to try to land back on the planet.

“Wanna make out?” Angela joked.

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Microstory 2515: Appointment Coordinator

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Hello. I have been the Appointment Coordinator here for about two years. Before that, I was the Assistant Appointment Coordinator, which is a position that is no longer offered at the Foundation. Don’t worry, no one was fired. My boss, who had this job before me, had to move with his family to a different part of the country. His son secured a job working at a prestigious university, and the family wanted to stay together, even though the son is obviously fully an adult now. We’re still friends, and stay in contact. There is a reason why my previous job wasn’t backfilled, and it’s because it’s no longer necessary. Over time, we’ve incorporated more and more technology—specifically artificial intelligence—into our operating procedures. We are nowhere near a place where the application process is automated, but I no longer get a look at most appointments. I predominantly handle what we call Appeals. When you apply to get a healing from Landis, the system goes through a number of checks. First, it needs to confirm your identity, which you do either with a credit card, or facial recognition. You have to upload your medical records to make sure that you legitimately have a condition that even qualifies for healing. The system has to handshake a number of various medical databases to confirm this legitimacy. If we’re not partnered with your provider, you will have to upload your documents to them instead. We don’t need your entire life’s story. We don’t need to know every time you went in for a broken arm. We just need to know what’s wrong with you now, and what—if anything—you’ve done for it in regards to treatment so far. Similarly, you are expected to provide your financial records, and we have partnered with many financial institutions for the handshakes on that side of things too. We need to know if you’re rich, not-so-rich, or very not rich. That determines whether you pay for the procedure, or qualify for additional charity. I coordinate with other departments, like Patient Experience and Finance, to make sure everything has gone through smoothly. If everything is processed correctly, and there are no errors, the AI will find a slot for the candidate, give the patient all the necessary information, and everything will be ready to go. I only need to step in when an applicant is not only rejected, but also appeals this decision. We have an automated system for them to log their appeal too, but a human has to see all of that, so they can make a decision on the matter. I am that human. I look through every single appeal, and reach out to the applicant as necessary, as well as their associated institutions. I am not at liberty to divulge what percentage of applications are rejected, but if you think about it, I’m only one person. There is only so much time in a day, and I can only do so much with that time. Most rejections come from fraudulent claims, which the computer almost always catches appropriately. If I’m looking at it, it’s probably because the fraudster is still hoping to complete whatever scam they’re going for. I also can’t tell you how many appeals overturn the original decision, but...it’s very rare. It’s really only when there’s some missing data in the application that the computer couldn’t catch, because it doesn’t know what it wasn’t told. When this happens, I submit a reapplication, and it goes back through the automated system, but it’s flagged for me so I can keep an eye on the progress. In case it runs into another issue, it holds priority, and doesn’t end up at the bottom of the appeals list again. That’s just a little bit about what I do here. It’s a lot, but I absolutely love it.

Microstory 2391: Earth, December 20, 2179

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Dear Velia,

You only sent a list of eight movies, and I wanted to get through every single one, which is why my reply is a little late, but attached, you’ll find my thoughts on each of them. If it’s going to be a shared experience, then let’s share it. I don’t have all the time in the world, so to speak, but I’m not constantly bogged down by my responsibilities. In fact, I quit my job just today. I’m still working there, since it’s customary to give two weeks notice before you stop going into work. I just had to stop tying my identity to my father’s. I love the guy, but I’ve lived my whole life in his shadow. I moved when he moved, I say the kinds of things that he would say. He didn’t do that on purpose, and when I told him my plans to leave, he was one hundred percent supportive. He still sees me as his little baby boy sometimes, but he recognizes that I am well into adulthood, and I can make my own decisions now. They may be bad decisions—you may even call them mistakes—but it’s time that I fly the nest, and find my own way. I’m not entirely sure what I’m going to do with myself now, but I think I’m gonna go back on land. I’ve saved up enough resource vouchers to keep myself going at least for a few months without having any official work. The dome where we brought in all those immigrants isn’t the only settlement there is on the Australian continent. Some aren’t doing so great right now, and they’re always looking for good hard-working people to help them repair their infrastructure. The platform is about to leave and head back towards the Atlantic Ocean, so now is my chance to get off. Don’t worry, though. Unlike on the ocean, there are towers that people use to stay connected. I won’t be out of communications range, and will pretty much always be able to link up to the server to check my messages, and send replies. I might have a harder time accessing entertainment, like those movies we both watched, but we’ll worry about that later. I’m more anxious about the Valkyries. My scientist friends really think that it’s going to happen any day now. The next time we speak, I may be in a very different living situation than I am now. I’ve been thinking about doing this for a while now, especially since hearing from Corinthia for the first time gave me some much-needed perspective. I didn’t quite decide until yesterday, though, which is why you’re hearing about it before she does. You can tell her if you want, or I will. I appreciate the little video clip of your introduction. You’ve sent me some nice photos before, so in return here’s one of me to remember me by.

Still under your spell,

Condor

Microstory 2337: Vacuus, February 16, 2179

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Dear Pascal,

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

It was nice to meet you,

Effectively, a stranger,

Corinthia

Microstory 2302: Still Feel So Lonely In Here

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You may have noticed that I’ve not been talking much about the KC memorial at the end of this week. That’s because I’ve had to step back from it. The mayors of KCMO and KCK have been working on it through their own teams. I’m still involved, I answer questions, but I just can’t do too much. I can’t let this all drag on like it has been. I’ll be there, it’s okay, I’ll be there. But I don’t want to be too involved anymore. I realized that I have something else to do before it’s over, which is to do something with Nick and Dutch’s private spaces. Neither of them were big collectors of belongings. I don’t need a moving company to haul stuff away, but I also don’t wanna create a shrine to them, even incidentally. I am thinking about moving, though. This house was already too big for the three of us, and only made sense because of our security team. They’re still here, protecting their one remaining charge, but I still feel so lonely in here. I mean, this whole place reminds me of the two of them anyway, so why would I make myself stick around? That reminds me, I should discuss the elephant in the room. I want to make it clear that I do not blame the security team for what happened. It was a freak accident, no one did anything wrong. Those roads were slick, and I looked it up; they’re not the only ones to suffer from that particular stretch of highway. People think of bodyguards as these supernatural beings with no room for error. They’re still just humans. They’re fallible, and they’re fragile, and they can die. They did die. The firm lost just as many of their people as I did of mine. I’ve always felt that we are commiserating together. So no, I’m not going to fire them, and I’m not going to sue them. It was a terrible tragedy, which I’m choosing to not make worse by seeking some undue form of vengeance.

Microstory 2301: Green Burial

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The remains. I’ve not told you anything about the remains. No, they weren’t at the memorial service. We left them in Kansas City. I decided that I wanted to lay them to rest on a solo mission. In between all the other planning that I’ve done, with the memorial service, and the other memorial service locally, I contacted all the necessary people to do it the way he wanted. One of the first things he told me when we met earlier this year was that he wanted a green burial, which means no casket, no chemicals, no clothing. Your body returns to the Earth in the purest way imaginable, breaks down as fast as possible, and breathes new life into the soil. There are obviously rules about this, like where you can do it, and I got all the permits. I’m not going to tell you where I buried him, but I did it all by myself after signing it out of the funeral home. That part wasn’t by Nick’s request. It’s something that I felt I needed to do alone. Everything else involves other people, so I just made an executive decision that this was the time when I would say goodbye in my own way, and not be around anyone else. I dug the grave, I lowered him down, and I filled it in. I feel that I accomplished something, and now maybe I can move on...maybe. Goodbye, Nick. You meant more than I could ever say.

Microstory 2296: To Be a Gathering

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I had a meeting today with the Mayor of Kansas City. She regrets that we’re doing the memorial service in Chicago, but she understands, especially since our two cities have such a great relationship with each other. Still, she would like to do something in honor of Nick, and I think that would be fine. We had a lot of trouble figuring out what that might be. He didn’t like parades, and a vigil seems too depressing. We spent most of the day discussing it, taking breaks here and there so she could manage other needs of the city. In the end, we decided that it’s just going to be a gathering where people can come up to the microphone on stage, and talk about whatever they want. It doesn’t even have to have anything to do with the deceased, if they have something else to say. It’s unconventional, and a little strange, and I think Nick would have liked it. Dutch would have, that’s for sure. That guy danced to the beat of his own drum. Don’t worry, we’re going to be screening people throughout, to make sure they’re not offensive or otherwise problematic. It’s going to be a lot to coordinate, but we think that we can be ready by Saturday of next week. There’s a reason we chose that date. This is kind of going to be a Kansas City thing, so if you’re coming from elsewhere, and have made travel arrangements to Chicago, we don’t want it to be too easy to add an extra thing. You are welcome to come, if you want, but it’s mostly just for us. Thanks for your understanding.

Microstory 2295: Stress Out of the Process

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What I’ve learned is that the publicity firm that Nick was using to protect his life story from rumors and lies is no stranger to memorial services. A few of their clients have died while they were working with them, and their survivors can purchase a new package to help with arrangements. Some clients even purchase it ahead of time in anticipation, like one would reserve a burial spot in a cemetery because they know they’re gonna die eventually. Nick didn’t do that, because he didn’t even think to hire anyone when his health started to decline from the prion infection. Well, I think he did consider it way back then, but he didn’t have the money, and didn’t follow through until later. Anyway, I purchased the memorial package, so they’re handling everything. I’ll be signing off on all decisions, but I won’t have to think them up myself, which takes a lot of the stress out of the process, so I’m grateful for their help in this matter. Or perhaps they should be thanking me for my help, if they’re the ones taking point. I did secure a reservation for the Causeway Center in Chicago, though. It’s so last minute that someone already had the auditorium booked. Homes for Humankind and CauseTogether.hope have assured me that whoever it was was happy to push it back to another day, but it’s hard for me to imagine how that’s possible. That room can accommodate hundreds of people, which means that they have to contact hundreds of people to alert them to the change in dates. I suppose that’s not necessarily true. Maybe they booked the whole place for an audience of eleven. I don’t know. I’ve been trying to figure out who it was, and if they’re really okay, but I can’t seem to find any information. You would think that an event like that would be advertising somewhere so customers could sign up for their thing instead. If you know what was supposed to be happening in the auditorium next Friday, shoot me a message. I feel that I owe them a thank you. In the meantime, I’m flying up to look at the venue this weekend, but I’ve already seen photos, and it looks great.

Microstory 2207: Fork Myself

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I’ve been having both good and bad days, and the doctors believe that this is going to continue until they can figure out what’s wrong with me. They’re stumped, and they don’t want to keep me in the hospital because I’m taking a bed from someone who needs it. They didn’t actually say that out loud, but I can read between the lines. Fret not, I’m okay with it. I don’t want to be here anymore either. Most of what’s happening to me involves nurses with less education helping me. They’ve been helping me eat, and bathe, and use the toilet. I’m not embarrassed to say that I’m struggling with doing these things on my own these days. My mind is still all right, but my hands have been shaking, so I can’t be trusted to hold a knife and fork myself. To free up this room, the hospital has suggested a home care option. This person will be able to take samples from me periodically, and send them off to the lab, but they’ll do it from the comfort of my home. Some of them come to work every day, and some live with their patients. The position is called a Lifecare Assistant, and I believe that it is rather similar to a CNA back on my homeworld. Well, I think that it may be a mix of CNA and phlebotomist, because they will also be able to draw blood and administer IV when necessary. I’m currently looking over my options, but I’ve not lost my job yet, so paying for it shouldn’t be a problem. It shouldn’t last long, as I’m sure they’ll determine what’s wrong with me eventually.

Microstory 2206: Securing a Private

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Stress, vitamin deficiencies, sleep disorder, depression, anxiety, or maybe even dementia. These are the possible explanations for my most recent health problems. It could also be cancer, because it could always be cancer. The doctor ordered blood tests, and the results have not come in yet, but the preliminaries have. The biggest evidence of an infection is a raised white blood cell count. Due to my history of infections, that is the first thing that they looked for, and they’re not seeing any issues in that regard. I was half-hoping that that would be the thing, because then we would know, and it could be treated. I’m actually feeling okay now, but since the mystery remains, I know that this issue is just going to keep dragging on. They asked me to check into the hospital, so they can keep observing me, even though my symptoms have abated. There is no telling how long I’m going to have to stay here, so I guess I’m glad to have this great job. I imagine my hospital bill will be pretty high in the end. I tell you this in all honesty to remind you to please not try to raise funds for me again. Really, if you do, this time I’ll just let it sit in whatever bank account it ends up in. The only value in money is how it’s spent. Until that happens, no matter how high the number is in that account, its value rests at a perfect zero. So don’t waste it on me, I’ll be fine. Now that I have the sense that I might be in here for the long-haul, I’m working on securing a private room, which will allow me to continue working remotely. The medical staff has asked me not to do that since stress is the number one suspect. Yeah, no. I’ve been stressed out my entire life, and yes, it has caused a lot of problems for my health, but that’s never meant that I’ve ever been able to stop. Back then, I had to keep working to survive. Now, I have to keep working, because it’s too important. I tell them, if they don’t want me to work in the hospital, then discharge me, and let me go to work. They try to point out the flaw in my logic, but I still don’t see it. People are counting on me, and there is too much to do. I can’t just let go.

Microstory 2205: I Really Need It

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I don’t have much to say. I mean, I do, but it’s hard for me to say it. I got to work okay, but then I started stiffening up while I was just sitting in my chair, and my whole body hurt. Not all at once, but it was rather persistent. I think maybe we underestimated how much my body was damaged from my stair tumble the other day. I had no choice but to go home, and stop working. I literally almost can’t move around. I’m dictating everything here for you, but it is not easy. I probably shouldn’t even be trying to write this post, but now that I’ve begun, I can’t just give up. My voice is starting to feel a little difficult. It’s growing more difficult to speak, that is. I’m sure that it will all be back to normal by morning. I just need to get some extra rest. Jasmine et al. think that I should go to the doctor, but we’re not there yet. Really, let’s just see what things are like tomorrow. I promise, I’ll seek medical attention if I really need it. It’s not another infection. It doesn’t fit with any of the typical signs or symptoms. Okay, the autocorrect is working really hard to fix my slurred speech so I better go.

Microstory 2204: Data Synthesist

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My Data Analyst would like to change his title to Data Synthesist. I was surprised when he came to me with that title, because that’s precisely what I wanted to call it in the beginning, but I was overruled at the time. You see, there’s a difference between analysis and synthesis. An analyst will take data, and break it apart into its smallest parts. They will examine each one, and figure out how it works; how it contributes to whatever it’s there to do. But a system is more than simply the sum of its parts. You, for instance, are not just a collection of organs, bones, blood, nerves, and muscles. You are a full person, and you cannot be rightly defined simply by listing every aspect of your self. What a synthesist does is take the system as a whole, and looks at how those parts work together to form that whole, in all dimensions. There’s an old parable in the systems thinking field that asks whether you would have the best car if you researched the best individual parts in the market, and tried to put them together. The answer is no, you wouldn’t; you wouldn’t even have a car! They wouldn’t fit together correctly, and would not add up to functionality. There is a time and place for analysis, but that time is not now, and that place is not here. I’m all in favor of my team member changing his title, but it’s a lot more complicated than just making the declaration, and printing new business cards. It has to go through human resources, and executives in our company. Our client has to approve it too, because they have the right to decide who they contract with. Compliance and legal have to be involved, as do departments that you might not immediately think of, like payroll and benefits. We don’t need their approval, but they still need to know that it’s happening so they can adjust their systems accordingly. And with all this comes the paperwork. Oh, the paperwork. We went through all this when the process was just getting started, and I was pleasantly surprised at how fast it went, but they might not be interested in undoing their work, and starting over from scratch, even if we’re just talking about one title. It may sound like I’m complaining, but I’m confident that we’ll figure this out. It’s the right move to make, even if it may sound small and inconsequential. It’s important that we state our intentions in all relevant ways, so our clients understand what kind of value we add to their businesses.

Microstory 2094: This New Life Chapter

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I’ve been missing my family. I’ve told you lies about them, like how they live in a different universe, but I’ve also told you some true things, including the fact that a lot of them are teachers, and that my parents liked to log the number of kids who came to their house for Halloween. Don’t worry, it’s not like there’s anything bad between us, but I flew the nest years ago, and I never went back. I was being rebellious, and wanted to exert my independence, and for the longest time, I felt like I couldn’t return, even just to enjoy a Sunday brunch with them, because I thought it would look like I was a failure. I still talk to them, but we’re not nearly as close as we used to be. I think I would like to change that. Things are in motion. I spoke with them on the phone earlier today, and asked if I could visit them. They insisted that they come see me here instead. They say that nothing has changed about where they live, or the way that they live, so they want to see where I am, and how I’m doing. I think that’s okay, even though things aren’t super great right now. They needed a day to get their affairs in order, but they’ll be flying in tomorrow, late morning. I’m going to rent a car to meet them at the airport. I was worried that my social worker wouldn’t like it, because I’m not really supposed to travel, but he actually encouraged it. He thought that I would need closure, or something, but I see it as a new beginning more than anything. I’ll let you know how it goes, but my next blog chapter will probably not be long, since I’ll be too busy writing this new life chapter.

Microstory 2093: Not Depressed At All?

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I’ve been going through some stuff. I dealt with a lot when I first came to...town, and then I got sick multiple times. The last one was the roughest illness I’ve ever experienced, and I contracted staph infections four times in my adult life! Going to the hospital to get the parasite taken out of me was a huge wake up call, but the problem is I’m still proverbially bleary-eyed. I don’t know who I am anymore, or what I’m supposed to do. It’s not like working at the nursery was ever my calling, but it was pleasant, and I enjoyed it. I guess I’m not even really talking about a job specifically. I just...I don’t know who I am; that’s the best way to put it. Everyone I’ve met here has been so great to me, and so helpful. I required quite a bit of patience, and I appreciate how difficult that must have been for them. I’ve been able to save up about 1500 dollars so far, because my landlord has been buying my groceries, I don’t have to pay utilities, I don’t have a car, and I don’t have any other responsibilities. That’s not bad, but it’s not nearly enough for me to start my life over from scratch. I need to find something else, and I need to do it fast. It’s just been hard to even go for it, ya know? I’m depressed. It’s not the first time, but it’s particularly bad this time. I was hoping that I was on my way to getting over it since I was separated from the love of my life, Cricket, but now I’ve backslid. I shouldn’t be surprised that I’m down again. I’ve grown so used to it that it’s become my resting state. Joy is something that I can fathom, because there are times when I’m less depressed than other times. But not depressed at all? Is that even a thing? I’ve genuinely never been sure about that. I was a full-on adult before I realized that normal people do not wake up nauseated every morning. I just thought that everyone went through the same thing, so I didn’t usually bother telling doctors my concerns. Even when I did bring it up, they would always brush it aside like it was nothing, until one of them was all, “you have acid reflux, dude. Gravity works against you when you’re lying down.” Just knowing that made it easier to get through the day, even when I didn’t actually do anything to correct the problem. There’s no simple fix for my sadness, though, except for drastic measures. The only way I have ever figured out how to get out of a funk is to make a huge change in my life. Of course, that usually causes anxiety vomiting, but with the right over-the-counter medicine, and personal behaviors, I can alleviate those symptoms too. I don’t know what I’m gonna do yet, but sitting around and sulking is decidedly not it. Getting yet another job for which I’m barely qualified is also not the answer. Stay tuned for updates.

Extremus: Year 64

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Tinaya Leithe is First Chair now. She’s been that way for nearly a month. This was never part of the plan, but ever since she was first asked to run, it’s the only thing that ever made any sense. She didn’t technically win by a landslide, but she won the greatest majority of any non-incumbent candidate on the ship so far. And that goes for all elected positions. This is good, because the Extremus has been historically divided, which only ever makes things more difficult for everyone. Good laws don’t get passed, bad laws do get passed, and the people are just generally unhappy. She doesn’t have the highest approval rating out of everyone, but when combined with everyone else, the current administration enjoys the most support from the populace. It’s looking like this is going to be a peaceful three years. She hopes that she’ll be reëlected at that point, and then again, and then again, but she’s not thinking about that at the moment. The least successful leaders are the ones who focus so much energy on maintaining power that they don’t actually do anything with that power. She has some ideas, and she wants to see them through, even if it means she has to get them all done during her first time, and then go back to civilian life after a loss.

Her first major order of business was going to be changing the way the Council is run, and how it’s structured. They’ve been accumulating power, and they can’t be left unchecked, or it could get out of hand. Unfortunately, it’s looking like that’s going to have to wait. The Bridgers have been asking for a meeting, and she’s run out of excuses to put that off. She doesn’t know exactly what they’re going to say to her. She doesn’t even know whether they’re happy or mad that she’s chosen this career path. But she knows that the conversation is going to be awkward and uncomfortable, and she’s not looking forward to that. Lataran has been putting off her own meeting on the other ship too, and they’ve decided to increase their strength through numbers by going together. The Bridgers would have probably not agreed to that, which is why they’re not warning them of this. They’re just going to show up at the same time, and that’ll be that.

“The First Chair and the Captain gone from the Extremus proper at the same time,” Lataran points out. “Sounds risky.”

“They’ll be fine,” Tinaya replies as she’s waving her hand in front of the door to the portal that will take them to the Bridgers. It used to involve time travel, but that experiment has been abandoned. It’s just too complicated, annoying, and headache-inducing. It may just be a coincidence, but Tinaya did suggest they get rid of it, so maybe they actually listened to her. Wouldn’t that be nice?

“Yeah, I’m sure you’re right. Things are going smoothly on my end,” Lataran replies as they’re walking down the hallway.

“Same on mine.”

“And on mine,” comes a voice from behind them. It’s fellow spy, Rodari Stenger. They’ve not seen each other in years. That’s what happens with him; he disappears for long periods of time, and then pops up again.

“What do you do again?” Lataran asks him.

“I run Year 217 now.”

“I thought that Year 217 just meant—”

“I know what you thought,” Rodari interrupted. “The Bridgers are liars. I’ll explain another time. For now, we need to talk about our strategy.”

“Strategy for what?” Tinaya asks. “The meeting? Are you going to be there too?”

“I’m meant to just be a fly on the wall, but I don’t think that’s the right way to play it. We should come up with a secret code that lets us communicate with each other on the downlow.”

“I don’t think that’s necessary,” Tinaya decides. “Whatever they’re going to say to me, they can say it, and I’ll respond appropriately.”

“That’s what I’m worried about,” he says.

“Do you know Leona’s Rules for Time Travel?” Tinaya asks him.

“By heart,” he replies.

“Rule Number Fifteen, don’t—”

“...antagonize the antagonist. All right. I’ll follow your lead, but you should know that I’m on your side, not theirs. Whatever happens in there, we stick together.”

One major disadvantage in him constantly disappearing on her is that she has to constantly relearn to trust him. It’s impossible to know what he’s been through since last she saw him, or how much he’s changed. She’s changed. But he’s not let her down so far, so she’s just going to jump right back into it this time.

“We stick together,” Lataran echoes. She sidesteps over to him, and takes him by the hand.

“Wait. When did this happen?” Tinaya questions.

“A few years ago,” Lataran explains. “I would have told you, but...”

“But we’d drifted apart. I get it, I’m not upset. Just...”

“Surprised?” Rodari guesses. He kisses Lataran’s hand, then gently separates himself from her. “We shouldn’t get used to it. We don’t know what they’ll say in there.”

What should have taken less than a minute took them a million years to cross the distance, but they can stall no longer. They’re at the door. It opens on its own, reacting to their presence. No one is on the other side to greet them, but lights flicker on and point their way down to the right location. Tinaya doesn’t come here often, but when she does, she doesn’t ever go to the same place twice. In fact, the hallways never look quite the same, even though they literally look alike. It’s entirely possible that they can be moved around to create confusion in case of some kind of intrusion. That or she’s just crazy, and everything is the same way it always has been.

They follow the lights all the way to their destination. This door opens on its own too. A woman is on the other side of it. “Tinaya Leithe, Lataran Keen, Rodari Stenger. Thank you for coming. And thanks for coming together. That’s exactly how I wanted to do this.”

Of course it was. Tinaya reaches out a hand. “It’s nice to meet you, Madam...”

“You can call me Spirit. I’m Spirit Bridger of the Bridger Section Bridgers. Please, have a seat. There’s water on the table. Those dials on the glasses adjust the temperature instantaneously. You’ll find teabags on the buffet behind you, if you would like.”

“Thank you,” Lataran says politely.

They all three sit down, the girls on one side, and Rodari at the far head. Spirit then sits across from the First Chair and Captain. “Thank you for—I’ve already said that. Sorry, I’m new. I’m..your new...handler. Let me start over. I’m Spirit Bridger, your new handler.”

“What happened to—?”

“Shift change. We do them over on this side too.”

“I hope not to sound rude, because I genuinely don’t know, and sincerely want to know, what is this about? We were not told any details, so I’ve not come prepared.”

“Normally, when a new Captain is selected, or a new First Chair is elected, an onslaught of meetings will be called, designed to go over all the things that they were not allowed to know before. The temporal engineers will reveal any secret projects, they’ll be read into the Three Bears War, and we’ll call our own to reveal everything they’re now entitled to know regarding the Bridger section.”

“What the hell is the Three Bears War?” Lataran questions.

“That’s nothing I’m authorized to discuss.” Spirit is very confused. “You’ve been the Captain for months. You should have been told about it by now, though.”

“Well, I wasn’t.”

“Reach out to Omega and Valencia. It’s not really my problem, so any attempt I could make to read you in would be pointlessly unhelpful.”

“I see.”

“Perhaps when Tinaya is read in, you could sit in on that meeting as well,” Spirit goes on. “But today, we’re here to talk about this place. Of course, you both already know about it. And you know a lot of things that a normal First Chair and Captain would not be told. Good for you. And good for me; this’ll be easy. I only need to say one thing.” She looks between Tinaya, and then Rodari, and then back to Tinaya. She does that a few more times. “Don’t get married.”

Now Tinaya is the one who’s confused. “Are you talking to me? Are you telling me to not get married, or him?”

“Both of you. Don’t marry each other.”

“Why would we get married?”

“Yeah,” Rodari agrees, “why would we get married?”

“I dunno,” Spirit admits convincingly. “That’s just what the cards say.”

“What cards?”

“The tarot cards.”

“You read the future through tarot cards?”

“Not literally; it’s just an expression.”

“No. It’s not.”

“Well, whatever, I don’t, but our seers say that you’re somehow on the path to getting married, and I have been asked to ask you to take another path.”

“We’re already on a different path; we’re not together. I’m...” He stops himself from saying anything about Lataran. It would actually be fine if he really were with Tinaya, but not Captain Keen. That’s a no-no.

“We can be honest with her,” Lataran determines. “She has no legal pull on Extremus proper. “We’re together.”

Spirit narrows her eyes at them. “Hm. I don’t know anything about that. Like I said, the seers only mentioned a path towards marriage. They never told me what might cause it. But then it goes for you too. Don’t you two get married either. That would compromise your position just as much. We’ve never had a captain, nor a first chair. Now we’ve got both at the same time, and we’re not going to take that for granted.”

“We weren’t planning on it,” Rodari promises.

Lataran hangs her head low. They’ve not seemed to resolve their situation yet, though they’ve probably been trying for the last year. Lataran isn’t allowed romantic entanglements in most cases. If Rodari still has a real identity on Extremus, he doesn’t qualify as someone who’s allowed to distract the Captain from her responsibilities.

Tinaya can see that her friend doesn’t want to think about this anymore. The only thing she can do to save her is redirect attention. “Can I marry someone else? I just need to know whether your seers are planning to control every aspect of my life, or what.”

“They didn’t make that clear,” Spirit replies, “but I wouldn’t recommend it. I believe it too would go against their plans for you.”

“The whole reason you people supposedly chose me is that I’m apparently more in control of my own destiny than most people. I will not be boxed in.”

“Tinaya...” Spirit reaches towards her, placing her hand nearby, but having no intention to touch her. “I’m on your side. I’m your advocate. That’s what a handler does. You don’t have to convince me of anything. You do whatever you feel like you need to do, but you have to understand that there are consequences to every action. If they don’t like the choices you make, you may find yourself regretting them. That’s not a threat. It’s just a concern. No one lives in a vacuum.”

What are the Bridgers playing at here, and who is this Spirit Bridger? She looks young, which could mean that she wasn’t part of the original crew, but was born later, or she could just be sufficiently ageless. They have access to technology that regular Extremusians do not. This is beginning to feel more like a conspiracy, and less like a vital mandate. The Bridger program was formed to ensure the continuity of the mission, but if it’s become corrupt, then that mission is compromised anyway. It’s time for internal affairs. If it’s necessary, and no one else can do it, then Tinaya will bring them down, even if it means that she goes down with them. “We literally live in a vacuum.”

“I’ve said what I needed to say.” Spirit taps her handheld device. “You all have my number now. I would like us to communicate more than you did with your previous handlers. That is all. The lights will show you out.”

Tinaya leaves the Bridger section alone, letting Lataran and Rodari have whatever conversation that they need to have in regards to their relationship. She has to get to another meeting. It’s just with Arqut, though, so it probably doesn’t have anything to do with this bear war, or whatever. He surely doesn’t know anything about it either. Once she’s back on the Extremus, she teleports to the Mirror Room, which has become their ad hoc meeting place, even though they have no use for the mirror, and it’s not like they have to meet in secret. It takes her a moment to notice that he’s not alone.

“Ah, we were shootin’ the breeze. We didn’t think you would be here so soon.”

“My other meeting was shorter than I thought it would be,” Tinaya replies. She nods at the other man in the room. “Council Leader.”

“I’m not Council Leader anymore,” Cleader clarifies. “I’m not even on the Council anymore. I’m too old to last beyond the next twelve years anyway, so I might as well pick sides. I’ve chosen yours, of course. If you’ll have me, I would like to serve you in any way I can. I have some pretty good ideas, if you would be willing to hear them.”

“Oh, yeah? Tell me one big idea?” He’s not a bad guy, but she’s in a bad mood.

“Well,” Cleader begins timidly, which is unlike him. One of these days, she’s going to have to learn his name once and for all. “I did notice one demographic that you missed out in the last vote, and if you want to secure reeëlection, you’re probably going to need them in three years. Officials who start out at your approval rating generally go down a little. Just a little, but it could be enough to get you out of office.”

“A missing demo, huh? And who would that be?”

“The utra-monogamists. If you want to win again...you should get married.”

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