Microstory 2446: Caverndome

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I have no idea how big this place is, or how many corridors and chambers this dome has, but it seems pretty complex and expansive to me. According to the literature, this was a natural cave system that survey satellites and drones discovered while they were mapping the topography of the planet during this project’s early days. Seeing the opportunity, they built one of the domes on top of it. I saw the satellite view myself, and there aren’t any other domes very close to the rocky formations to the northeast of Caverndome, which makes me wonder whether the caves extend far beyond its borders, so they just decided to cut it off, and call it good enough. It certainly is. You could probably spend a whole standard lifetime here, and not see everything. The prospectus hints at the possibility of there being secret passageways and hidden chambers, and given the scope of the network, that’s probably true. I wouldn’t know how to find or access one of them, though. It could be mechanical or electronic, where a wall will part after inputting some kind of code, or it’s a tight squeeze with a big payoff, or it’s just so hard to see through an optical illusion. Some of the walls may straight up be holographic. A lot of people were running their hands along them in case the apparent solid surface gave way to empty space instead. We’re not allowed to bring in our own surveying equipment, which makes sense, because unlocking all the secrets all at once would go against the spirit of the dome. At its heart, this is an ecological dome, which means there aren’t any planned activities. You’re only supposed to come here if you wanna explore and see some cool caves. There is opportunity for spelunking and cave diving, but through the lens of this goal of exploration, not so you can test your mettle, bump your heart rate up, or get your rocks off, so to speak. Don’t come here and be disruptive or annoying. There’s literally a chamber that is specifically designated for echoing. It’s called Olimpia Hall. I would have called it the Echo Chamber, but maybe there’s some significance in the name that I am not cognizant of. If you wanna do that, go there, don’t disturb or undermine other people’s experiences because you were freakin’ born yesterday, and you’ve never heard an echo before. Yeah, it’s cool because of how powerful Olimpia Hall’s echoes are, but it doesn’t have the same effect elsewhere, so stop looking for alternatives. Sorry, I’m complaining about other visitors, when I’m just here to review the dome, but staffing is an issue. I guess it’s not their fault, because like I said, the network is so deep and intricate that they can’t station bots everywhere, but people are taking advantage of that freedom, and it’s making it a frustrating experience, so maybe they can try to find a solution? I dunno, I’ll shut up now.

Microstory 2445: Dune Buggy Paradise

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This is the largest habitable desert in the world. Now, you may be asking yourself, how could it be any bigger than any other? Every dome is the same size as all the others, isn’t it? True, but this one makes better use of that space, because it operates in three dimensions. We’re talking about multiple layers here. It’s quite ingenious, really. I don’t mean that you can wander about on the bottom layer, and then take an elevator to a higher ones. You have to walk or drive up ramps to get to other levels, and you don’t just multiply the area of one by the number of layers to get the total area. The upper layers are nowhere near as big. They’re like giant catwalks, criss-crossing each other in random configurations, looping around, and dipping down. It’s all very chaotic, and hard to track. Here’s the most mysterious—and I think, best—part of this whole place, there is a layer near the top of the dome which no one has been able to figure out how to reach. There doesn’t seem to be any path leading to it, but we can clearly see it. At the right angles—and with good enough vision—you can even make out a dune buggy parked on the edge. It’s gotta be some kind of prize, but as I said, no one has managed to reach it thus far. Even if you found some roundabout way, like with an extremely long grappling hook, how would you drive it down? It’s about a kilometer higher than the next highest layer. Maybe it’s a joke, or the creators are taunting us. Or it’s just straight up unfinished, who knows? Another special thing about the way this place is designed is what happens when sand from one layer falls over the edge. Well, it doesn’t. It can slip over, but then fly back up to where it belongs. You don’t have to worry about sand falling on your head all the time like rain thanks to people on the higher layers. It’s not just regular sand that they harvested from the surface of this planet. It’s smartdust. It’s all smartdust. I hear tales of people claiming that it has flown around in other instances, and formed ominous shapes, which they interpret as the dust trying to communicate with them. It could be true, though I’ve not seen it for myself, but even if it were, there’s a scientific explanation for it. Smartdust is fully capable of moving around, and forming larger shapes, like tiny artificial starlings. Overall, this is a pretty nifty place. It could be pretty boring, with its one niche being hardly distinct from other domes. There are other deserts, and at least one other racing dome, but combining them here is more than just the sum of its parts. I think it’s worth the trip. You don’t have to race if you don’t want to. You can just drive around, people are pretty respectful about boundaries.

Microstory 2444: The Sandbox

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This dome isn’t for everyone, but it’s available to anyone. Do you have an idea for a new dome, or an improvement on a preexisting dome? You can come here to conceptualize, pitch, and even engineer these designs. Not everyone here has the educational or working background to translate their thoughts into functioning prototypes, but that doesn’t mean they shouldn’t have their voices heard. I’m not either of these people. I don’t have any ideas, or the means to implement them. But I did want to hear from other people, and they were totally cool with this. Some meetings have closed doors, but it was always very clear. They have a constantly updating map on their prospectus, which shows you when and where the next meetings will be, and whether you’re allowed to just show up to watch and listen. It’s not even always about some crazy and unique concept that’s meant to blow people’s minds. I was at this one pitch from someone from a planet that I had never heard of because it was mostly just a number. She was asking whether they might consider building smaller domes for smaller communities. I can’t tell you whether they’re going to do that, but it’s not a bad suggestion. I’ve always wondered why every dome has the exact same dimensions regardless of the theme. My gut tells me that they constructed all the domes in one go, pressurized them, and only decided afterwards what the purpose of each one was going to be. That would be an all right excuse, but there’s still a lot of land out there that hasn’t been domed over, mostly because the terrain doesn’t allow it, but again, if it’s going to be smaller, that might be okay. Or, instead of that, you could have one large dome with lots of smaller domes inside of it, which might be good enough for what that woman was looking for. Anyway, the Sandbox is for ideas. If you have even only one suggestion, you can send this dome a message, or take the vactrain to it. They seem to be really considering the feedback that they receive. If an idea grows from there, it looks like they sometimes begin building models or prototypes here before making an investment at full scale. A lot of those were kept secret, though, and even the ones I did see, I don’t feel comfortable reporting. You’ll just have to come see for yourself, and find out what they’re willing to show you.

The Advancement of Mateo Matic: July 15, 2497

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

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

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

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

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

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

“We could go ask,” Angela offered.

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

“What? Why?”

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

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

“I still have questions,” Ramses complained.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Okay,” Leona said. “Yalla.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Kiss me.”

He kissed her.

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

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

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

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

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

“Dad, you’re missing breakfast again.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hi...you.”

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

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

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

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

“You got it, boss.”

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

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

“Daisies.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Pregger Craves? What does that mean?”

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

“Oh, that’s what that smell is.”

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

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The Advancement of Mateo Matic: July 14, 2496

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“Anything?” Mateo asked.

“Nothing,” Leona replied.

“Where could they possibly be?” he went on. “You need at least three people to make the new slingdrives work, if it even works at all.”

“Maybe he was wrong about it,” Olimpia offered. “Maybe it works with only two.”

“We should still be able to detect them,” Leona reasoned, “wherever and whenever they are.”

“Unless they’re shrouded in dark particles,” Mateo pointed out.

“Yeah, that’s my hypothesis,” Leona agreed, “but Ramses’ systems are being finicky with me. I technically have access, but it’s...argh!” She didn’t want to have to explain the complexities of it all, and she didn’t have to.

“If it is dark particles, you know who we can call,” Angela said.

“Won’t work,” Marie countered as she was walking back in from the other room. “Buddy was here. He disappeared with them.”

“How do you know?” Leona questioned. “The surveillance was garbled.”

“I didn’t look at the footage from the lab. I looked at the recordings from the drone in Dome 216.” She lifted her hands, and projected a hologram of the video recordings from Dome 216 last year. They could see Buddy standing there with Romana and Ramses. There was no sound, and it wasn’t detailed enough to read their lips, but their body language appeared nonconfrontational. None of the others remembered experiencing angry emotions from this moment, though there was some agitation leading up to it, if they were remembering correctly. As the three of them were standing there in the desert, the dark particle creature appeared out of nowhere, and seemingly tried to kill Buddy. It kind of looked like Romana was trying to save him, further reenforcing the idea that they were not at odds at this moment. Marie closed the hologram with a drop of her hands after the creature grabbed Romana and disappeared, and the other two left, presumably to rescue her.

“You gotta fix that machi—” Mateo began.

“I know,” Leona interrupted. Then she sighed. “I’m sorry.”

“I know that you love her too,” Mateo acknowledged. “I’m just sick of worrying about her.”

“I don’t think that ever goes away,” Olimpia said.

“There’s another possible way to find her,” Angela began. “Maybe we don’t need Buddy. Ramses has given us all we need.”

“You wanna use the tandem slingdrives, and hope that they take us where we’re trying to go, even though we don’t know where exactly that is,” Leona guessed.

“If it doesn’t work, we’ll try again,” Angela reasoned. “If we can’t navigate back here for another attempt, it probably means that it never mattered if we knew where they were, because they’re probably out of range, and the tandem slingdrives don’t work right.”

Leona sighed, and looked back over to the screen. The computer was trying to find them just as it had when Buddy abducted Romana years ago. “I don’t know if this thing is good enough. That seems to be an entire person made out of dark particles. It could be orders of magnitude more powerful than the stasis field that Buddy put Romana in before.”

“Is that a yes?” Angela asked.

“I would have preferred to test the tandem slingdrives in a more controlled situation, but you make a good point that that doesn’t really exist. The whole purpose of these things is to push the boundaries of intergalactic travel. If we get lost, that was always going to be the result, and we’ll be no further from locating Rambo and Romana than we are now.”

“The great thing about these suits he made for us, we’re never not ready to go.” Mateo mused.

Olimpia interlocked her arm with his. “As long as we have each other.”

“They could be in a harsh environment,” Leona warned. “Suit up.”

Mateo released his emergent nanites, and commanded them to turn mostly green. He now looked strikingly like Green Arrow. When Leona looked at him funny, he shrugged and said, “she loved this show.”

“She had time to watch it?” Leona questioned.

Marie looked at the time readout on her interface. “Eleven, ten, nine...”

Everyone shut themselves up safe in vacuum mode, though Mateo kept the superhero costume on over it to keep things light. If he didn’t laugh, he would cry. No one lost track of their children as many times as he had. Put a bell on her, he thought to himself. Well, she had a bell. A psychic bonding bell, which should always let them know where the other one was. These dark particles were incredibly frustrating, and how funny it should be that they would come into their lives around the time the quantum connection was too. Their fates were sealed, whether they were aware of it or not.

Marie finished counting down, and they all slung away, concentrating on nothing but Ramses and Romana’s location. It looked like they were still in the lab, but it was very different. It was a hell of a lot darker, and these flashlights that looked like forearm weapons weren’t doing them much good. They couldn’t make out any details in the room around them, it just had the vague shape of everything back home. The right angles of the tables, desks, and chairs; the curve of the gestational pods in the corner; the height of the ceiling. They were here, but not here, kind of like the Upside Down. Everything was just a shadow of its true self, nothing more than a slight hint of its presence. Shadows, really. They could call this a shadow realm. It was very much like that in more ways than one. This was seemingly where the dark particles lived. They were swarming all around them, not paying the humans much attention, but clearly aware of their sudden appearance, however complex their intelligence might be.

Something was coming at them from the darkness. It was moving steadily, and maybe a little threateningly, but not too quickly. Before it reached them, it split in two. Shortly after that, they could be recognized as people; people wearing EmergentSuits. It was Ramses and Romana. Nice, it worked. Ramses took Mateo by the hand. He was already holding Romana’s. She took Marie’s, and together with everyone else, they completed the circle. With nothing more than a sense of homesickness, and no words exchanged, they reactivated the tandem slingdrives, and left this place as quickly as they had come. They were back in the lab; the real lab, complete with light and solid objects.

Ramses collapsed his helmet, and fell to his knees, sliding on the floor a few centimeters. At first, they thought he was hurt, but he was positively ecstatic. He was laughing and crying simultaneously, holding his arms up and to the side like he had just won Olympic gold, panting, both relieved and proud. No one had a clue what was going on. Romana was just as perplexed as the rest. “Oh my God. Yes! Yes! That’s it! I finally figured it out! I saw it! Me! Well, Romana and I, but I understand it. Whew!” he whooped.

“What happened in there?” Mateo asked his daughter.

“I don’t really know,” she replied. “We couldn’t talk, but he was super excited the whole time. He kept tapping on the interface modules of his suit. I’m guessing he was taking readings, but who knows?”

Ramses was still laughing. “Yeah. I was taking readings, all right.” He stood up, all giddy and cheerful. “I know what it is. I know what it all is.” He squealed. “I have to write it down.” He rushed to find the nearest device.

“Care to share with the class?” Leona asked.

“Yes, class first. Then the paper.” He clapped, then started gesturing with his hands as he prepared his remarks. “Neutrinos.”

“Neutrinos?” Leona echoed. “Are you saying that that’s what the dark particles are?” She didn’t seem to believe him. She was the only one who was following him even remotely.

“Yes.” Oh, Ramses was still so jazzed about this whole thing, whatever it was.

“That doesn’t make any sense. They’re subatomic particles. You can’t see them.”

“I was wrong,” Ramses went on. He kept talking with his hands. “I thought that they were lifeforms, which were replicating, but that’s not it. They don’t breed, they congregate. They form masses. They’re like...snowflakes; water adhering to a mote of dust, and clumping together until it becomes too heavy to stay up.”

“So, a dark particle isn’t a neutrino. It’s billions of neutrinos.”

“Exactly. But not like water forming on a mote of dust—”

“You literally just said that that’s what it’s like,” Angela reminded him.

“I know, but not really,” Ramses insisted. “It’s more like...a whole bunch of neutrinos who happen to be on the same trajectory as each other. They emit some kind of energy. Individually, it’s negligible, but combined, we can actually see it. We perceive it. It’s dark, because neutrinos don’t interact with photons very well either, but these bursts of energy, firing in rapid succession, do occasionally repel light like a solid object would. Again, it appears dark, because it’s a minuscule amount, but it is technically visible. For fractions of a second, but as I said, when they get close enough to each other, these bursts are happening all the time. Normally, you don’t see it, because we can’t see the neutrino dimension, but Buddy can...call them forth.” He pointed while adding, “and so can Romana.”

He was talking real fast, but no one bothered to ask him to slow down, because they didn’t understand him either way. Except for Leona. She knew what he was saying, she just  couldn’t believe it. She crossed her arms, but didn’t say anything else for now.

“So, they’re not alive?” Romana asked.

“No, as I said, I was wrong. They just seemed to be that way, because baryonic matter freaks them out. No, that’s personifying them again. They’re not used to baryonic matter, because they usually pass right through it, but in these clumps, and with some sort of weird charge that Buddy can artificially generate, they do find themselves running into us.”

“That doesn’t make any sense either,” Leona pointed out. “The particles move around people. That requires some level of sentience.”

“Yeah, I was thinking about that. I don’t think they’re diverting with any semblance of intent. I think as soon as this energy comes into contact with normal matter, they split off into different directions, ultimately colliding with other clusters, and forming new temporary trajectory masses. It only looks to us like they’re swarming, because we can’t effectively track one clump at a time. They don’t have to hit us directly, because a sufficiently concentrated layer of air is all around us at all times. To us, it’s meaningless, but it’s like a wall to them. I thought they were disappearing and reappearing, and I was sort of right. They don’t hold together for very long, but they do form clumps constantly during this charged condition. I would really love to get my hands on Buddy, and see how he does it. I may have learned all I can from Romana.”

“Where is Buddy, by the way?” Olimpia asked. “We saw you with him on the drone cam in Dome 216.”

Ramses brushed it off. “Oh, I dunno, we lost him in there. He could still be trapped for all I know, or he knew exactly how to escape. I’m sure he’ll show up again at some point.”

“Hold on,” Leona said, still unconvinced. “Where were we? What was that place? The neutrino dimension? That’s where they live? Why? Seems random.”

“It’s not,” Ramses continued his lesson. “Let’s say you have a vacuum-sealed room with two doors. There’s a screen door, and then the fully sealed door. When you open the sealing door, only the screen door remains, which allows the air to rush through the screen, and into the room. That’s because nature abhors a vacuum. As you know, neutrinos don’t interact with electromagnetism, or the strong nuclear force. The dimensional barrier is apparently made up of one or both of these, which is why the neutrinos pass into it. It’s just like entropy, where a state of order naturally flows into a state of disorder. It wasn’t made for neutrinos specifically, but those are the particles that go into it, because nothing can stop them. And they don’t usually come back out, because there’s so much space in there.”

Romana tapped on her arm interface. “Yeah, that was my interpretation too.” She lifted her arm up. “That’s what it says here, neutrino clumps.”

Mateo laughed. “You’re adorable. Like a young me.”

“Why are you dressed like Green Arrow?” she asked.

“Why aren’t you dressed like Speedy?”

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The Fourth Quadrant: Flying Like a Rock (Part IV)

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Mount Hilde does not only grant access to the Sixth Key from Fort Underhill Proper. It also serves as the frontlines. In the parent universe, Salmonverse, direction and location are all about one’s frame of reference, but not here. There is a hard limit to the scope of Fort Underhill. Move far enough in any direction, and you’ll reach the physical boundaries that hold the cosmos together. You would not be able to break free through that wall, however. It’s reportedly fifty times thicker than the walls of a normal universe—whatever that means, and whatever these walls are made out of. Only something called the Aperture leads to the kasma, where you can potentially escape into the multiverse, but even that would not be guaranteed. Team Gatekeeper has come to find out why this is known as a fort at all. It’s meant to be a haven for any and all peacelovers, so the entrance is the only way in or out. The world they’re standing on right now is at that entrance. The peak of Mount Hilde is apparently pointed right at it. If someone wants to come here, looking for trouble, this is what’s gonna be in their way. It’s thusly unclear why the team is even here in the first place. This whole place was designed to keep out intruders. Security is what they supposedly do best, so why do they need a small team of individuals who only recently came together?

“You’re not here to secure Mount Hilde,” Hogarth explains. “You’re here to protect the diplomatic team that I’ve assembled. This is just the means by which we reach the plane of existence that we’re headed for.”

“You let me secure the perimeter,” Selma reminds her. “The perimeter to this facility, on this mountain.”

“You were on a roll, barking orders. I didn’t want to slow you down. Plus, it’s always good to get a second opinion on our security measures.”

Selma sighs.

“Miss Eriksen,” Hogarth continues, “you were not assigned the leadership role of your team, yet here you are, taking charge.”

“Atticus wasn’t saying anything.”

“Hey, I agree. Every military is defined by how orderly and organized it is, as is any well-run private organization. But the reality is that true leaders aren’t hired, or designated. They step up. Those are the ones that people are better off following, because they earn their place every day. If they fail, they lose it. Someone who serves as leader in any official capacity will often just be allowed to stay there, even if they don’t deserve it. I think Atticus is recognizing the same thing that I am, and is allowing you to do what you need to do. It’s what we all need right now. You are what we need. So do your thing. I’ll let you know when you’re messing something up.”

Selma is skeptical to stay the least. She taps her earwig. “Fall back to the lobby. It’s time to go.” She looks up at the foggy second story. “I’m guessing that’s our entrance?”

“You guess right.”

“It’s a portal, or something?”

“Or something.”

“That’s vague, and unsettling. Is it dangerous?”

“Everything is dangerous,” Hogarth says, likely having fun being cryptic and unhelpful.

“Please clarify.”

Hogarth sighs. “I didn’t make that. That is supposed to lead to the observation platform, where you can spot the Aperture with the naked eye. The fog was placed there by a...friend of mine. I can’t tell you how it works, because he didn’t tell me.”

“Please clarify,” an unsatisfied Selma repeats.

“He’s a god. He’s literally an energy god. He doesn’t intervene as much as I would like, but he agreed to facilitate diplomatic discussions with our apparent enemy by building us some kind of bridge. I don’t know where it goes, and I don’t know what we’ll find when we get there. That’s why I need you. I certainly can’t fit my whole robot army up those stairs. I wish that I could prepare you better, but I don’t have all the answers.”

The two of them are standing on a small mezzanine level, between the main floor, and the fog. Climbing up the rest of the stairwell would seemingly take them up to the real top of the building. Selma looks up in that direction. “No one ever does.” She watches as everyone down below begins filing back into the lobby from various doorways. Once everyone is back, she begins to walk back down the steps, but stops. “Wait. Is that the diplomatic team? Do they have any experience?”

“Those are my people,” Hogarth says. “I’m the only representative from Fort Underhill who will be going on the mission. The diplomats should be arriving shortly.”

She was right. Just as Selma is stepping down to join the group, five more people enter from the fog. Hogarth looks just as surprised as Selma and the Fort Underhillers. Four of the newcomers begin to descend the curved staircase while one of them stays at the top. “People of Fort Underhill, allow me to introduce you to...the Diplomats.” The way he pauses before the last two words makes it sound like they’re part of a club. “Flux Do-4 of Vaidy, Major Regolith Hagedus of Gavismet, Major Allomer Franks of Fanter, and Awilda Zewflux of Vaidy. Chief Truncative Kanani Kekoa could not be here today.”

“That’s him,” Hogarth whispers. “That’s the energy god. He’s not the one I talked to about the diplomats. He had nothing to do with that. At least, I didn’t think so.”

Major Franks looks back up at the god. “You’re not coming with us?”

“It’s not my place,” the god replies.

“We don’t even know what we’re doing,” Major Hagedus complains. “Where have you brought us?”

The god smiles. “To a pit stop. Come back up here whenever you’re ready.” He doesn’t move a muscle. The fog billows out a little more, and overwhelms him. When it recedes, he’s gone.

“I don’t think that was really Dyne Dyne,” Major Franks says to Flux Do-4. These are all very interesting names.

“I would have to agree,” his friend, Flux Do-4 says stoically.

Hogarth walks over to meet the Diplomats at the bottom of the stairs. “Thank you for coming. We face a great unseen enemy, and would like to resolve things amicably, if at all possible.”

Major Hagedus nods. “We’ve learned to accept any job that has been given to us, whether we asked for it, or not. Give us the details.”

Atticus is still technically the leader of Team Gatekeeper so it is he who joins Hogarth and the Diplomats in the briefing room while Selma and everyone else wait out here by the fountain. They’re in there for about forty-five minutes before they come back out. Hogarth says her personal goodbyes to her friends, then takes a few steps upstairs before turning around to address the crowd. She pulls in a deep breath, and exhales with zen-like vigor. After building sufficient anticipation, she finally speaks, “forward now, unto the breach!” She spins back around, and starts to run up the stairs.

For a second, no one knows what to do, but if Hogarth needs protecting, then Selma is going to be the one to do it. She slips through the crowd, and begin to follow her up. Neither of them make it into the portal fog, though. A blast of some kind shoots out from it, and throws them both over the railing, back towards the floor. Selma doesn’t make it there, though. The central fountain contains statues of people, standing in a circle, and reaching their hands outwards, interpretively in friendship to all. Above them, a young girl is crouching on a platform, pointing outwards as well. Slightly higher, a boy is hanging onto the central column, holding on with one hand and two feet like a monkey. His other hand shields his eyes from the sun. He’s searching for something in the opposite direction of who Selma imagines to be his sister. Just above him is another flat platform where the water splashes onto, so it can rain down below in random patterns, unlike the symmetrical nozzles near the top, which fling jets in neat, predictable arches. Selma crashes onto her back on this empty platform, head turned to the side so she can watch Hogarth’s neck slam into the edge of the pool. The rest of her body is now sprawled out on the floor, motionless.

Selma’s vision is blurring, but she can still make out what’s happening. Four silhouettes have emerged from the fog. They stand on the landing together in a line. The fog recedes up through the opening in the ceiling as if all the air has been sucked out of the room. As it does so, the silhouettes become clearer. One of them appears to be Tamerlane Pryce, though not the avatar of the magical Magnolia tree. It seems to be a real version of the original man. “Who did we get?” he asks, looking down at Selma and Hogarth. “Only two? Hm. That’s disappointing.”

Selma struggles to lift her shoulders up from the stone platform to lean against the column. It’s incredibly painful. She probably broke her back.

“Not even. Well, I guess we’ll have to get the rest some other way,” Tamerlane laments.

“Look,” the other man in the attacking group says. “What’s happening with the dead one?”

Selma struggles again to turn her head, and look back down at Hogarth who appears to be disintegrating? Her body is literally falling apart into a million tiny pieces, flaking off and fading into oblivion. It’s reminiscent of something Selma once saw in a superhero movie they made in the main sequence. During the Rock negotiations, representatives from the different realities would be asked to share art and culture from their native lands to promote unity and camaraderie. The ending to this one was particularly sad and depressing, even though it was the 21st film in the series, and they hadn’t watched the ones leading up to it. In a matter of moments, Hogarth’s body has completely disappeared into nothingness.

“Well,” Tamerlane says with one clap of his hands. “One down, however many to go. Iolanta? Make sure they stay here.”

“Done,” Iolanta replies.

“A.F., I suppose you’re the more...violent of us. Just try to make it efficient, and painless. Our only objective is to protect The First Explorer.”

The other guy cracks his own neck, and psychs himself up, bouncing around like a boxer preparing for a fight. He reaches behind his hip, and swings a rifle down and around into killing position, fancying himself some kind of action hero. Lowell Benton of Fort Underhill doesn’t hesitate before running up the stairs to meet his enemy. He anticipates being shot at, and dodges the first bullet. But the second one hits him square in the chest. He bursts into a million pieces, just as Hogarth had, though much faster. The dust he leaves behind eventually vanishes. A.F. is shocked at this. He rolls his gun a little to his left, and examines it for answers.

“Was that supposed to happen?” Tamerlane questions.

“I shouldn’t think so,” the killer responds.

“I’m not one to look a gift horse in the mouth, so keep going, A.F.”

Andrei and Ayata spring into action. They play a little gun fu with A.F. His weapon is long, heavy, and unwieldy. He can’t move it around as fast as they can sprint and hop, and it’s no good in close quarters. He gives up, and starts fighting them in hand to hand combat. He’s getting tired, though, and knows that he’s no match for them with this tactic. He manages to keep them away from him long enough to pull out his sidearm, and shoot them in the stomachs. They too instantly dust apart.

“Okay, now this is getting ridiculous!” Tamerlane cries. “That’s just a nine mil! What the hell is happening?”

“I don’t care,” A.F. growls back. “It’s working.” He gets his rifle back into position, and starts spraying bullets every which way. He’s not aiming at all, just trying to let the auto fire paint the walls with his enemies’ blood. Except there is no blood, only disappearing dust. He’s letting out a primal scream, probably believing himself to be a real life Rambo, or something. That’s another gem of a movie that the main sequence showed them on their breaks.

By some miracle, none of these stray bullets hits Selma. She’s partially covered by the stone column, but not entirely. At least one of them should have slipped through. She has to watch as all of her new friends are slaughtered senselessly. Once he’s done, he drops the end of his gun to turn it into a walking cane to hold himself up while he catches his breath. Selma looks around at the fountain, and sees that it has suffered no damage at all. It must be protected by a force field. She doesn’t know why they would bother designing it this way. She should count herself lucky, but that’s not how it feels. She’s alone now, and they’ll figure out how to kill her eventually.

A.F. seems to have come to the same conclusion when he notices that she’s still alive. He slowly and deliberately picks his gun back up, cowboy walks over there, and attempts to shoot her at point blank range.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa!” Tamerlane shouts. “Watch where you’re pointin’ that thing, asshole!”

“There’s a plasma barrier,” A.F. figures.

“Yeah, I see that. It could have ricocheted.”

A.F. steps a little closer, and lifts his hand, trying to find the barrier manually, but there’s nothing there. It passes right through, unimpeded. With a chuckle, he steps into the pool to no resistance. He chuckles again. “Loophole,” he delightedly declares. He trains his weapon for the last time, right at Selma’s head. “Any last words?”

She stares at him blankly, still in an immense amount of pain. “They keep calling you A.F. What does that stand for? Ammo fucker?” She pulls out her own sidearm, and shoots him right in the forehead. In a surprising twist, he dusts away like everyone else. That’s evidently just what happens to people when they die in this room. Her own life is hanging on by a thread, so she’s about to find out first hand if that’s true. The darkness enshrouds her eyes, and she slips away peacefully.

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The Fourth Quadrant: Rocked to the Core (Part III)

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It’s morning on this side of Castlebourne. While this planet does have an atmosphere, and there is technically a sky above them, it’s not all that pretty. It’s kind of hazy and depressing. Each geodesic dome comes with its own holographic projection on the inner shell to simulate whatever visual environment is desired. When not under the darkness of night, Dojodome is typically kept between dawn and sunrise, just because that’s what Darko happens to like, and this is his territory. There are tens of thousands of other domes here, which serve varying purposes, but the trainees have never left this one. They have never been allowed to so much as see anyone else who lives here. They are currently over a hundred years in the future from where they were living, so no one wants them to gain any insight into what’s to come. They don’t have any problem with this, as they have plenty of work to do here. They are expecting to receive details on their first mission soon, but Darko hasn’t been provided with a specific date. He hasn’t really been teaching them since the Sunshine Sticker Ceremony a few days ago. They have shed their bags of rocks, and have just been practicing their skills as they see fit. At the moment, the four of them are doing some tai chi together to greet the day.

They all stop and stand up straight when a magnolia tree appears on the other side of the room, and fades in and out of view before disappearing for good, leaving them with four strangers. “Greetings,” one of them begins, stepping forward. “My name is Goswin Montagne. I am here to acquaint you with the rest of your team, and give you your first assignment.”

“Where’s the tree?” Andrei questions. “Where’s Princess Honeypea?”

“She doesn’t appreciate what we’re doing here,” one of the other guys says. “She’s a lover, not a fighter. That’s why I love her.”

Goswin isn’t happy with his friend’s flourishes. “This is Briar de Vries. He is here to represent the interests of the Garden Dimension, and will only be serving in this capacity. He does not have authority over you.” He points to the other guy. “This is Atticus Morel, a.k.a. Gatekeeper. He is your leader, and does have authority over you. He has some experience dealing with powerful tyrants like the one we believe you are up against. Lastly, we have Catania Porter. She can take you anywhere you need to go, and get you anything you need. She’s not a fighter, don’t ask her to be.”

Catania doesn’t say anything. A handheld device beeps from her pocket, so she takes it out, and starts fiddling with it.

Goswin sees her do this. “She’s not ignoring you, she’s just really busy. She’s basically a real life Santa Claus, if you’ve ever heard of him, so she’ll be occupying herself with the needs of other clients during her downtime.”

Darko walks over, and stands right in front of Catania. She ignores him.

“Please leave her alone,” Goswin requests.

“You first,” Darko spits back. He reaches up, and places a hand over Catania’s device. He gently pushes it down, and turtles his head into his own shoulders, trying to make eye contact with her. “You’re not gonna say anything?”

Catania sighs. “Hello, son.”

“How long has it been for you?”

“Three years.”

“About the same for me,” Darko agrees.

“This is your mother?” Goswin asks, shocked. He looks into the aether. “Magnolia, what the hell did you do?”

“It’s fine,” Darko says. “She goes where she’s needed, and...she’s needed here. But I’m not.” He takes a sad breath, and heads for the entrance to the other room. “Enjoy your mission. Thank you for being my students.”

“Thank you, teacher,” Selma, Andrei, and Ayata say in perfect sync.

He turns back around and slides the door closed with a slight bow.

Catania is studying the floor awkwardly before going back to what she was doing on her device.

“I’m sorry about that,” Goswin goes on. “I’ll speak with him after the briefing. Is there somewhere we can do that?”

“We can hold it in the chashitsu; or tea room,” Selma suggests. “Ayata, could you lead them there? I’ll make the tea.”

Most chashitsu are fairly small, only fit for a few people sitting on the floor. This being a giant complex filled with all sorts of Japanese architecture, some modifications have been made in certain places. The chashitsu that comes off the main dojo is large enough for a dozen people in chairs. There are larger places for larger gatherings, but they’re farther away, and shouldn’t be necessary for this purpose. Ayata seats everyone around the table, then goes over to help distribute the tea. Goswin lays out the plans for a mission in Fort Underhill. If The First Explorer is truly a threat to the entire universe, they need to understand the vulnerabilities in the interdimensional barriers. Team Gatekeeper, as Goswin is calling it, will be responsible for security while these inspections are going on. It may be nothing. They may have nothing to do but stand around and look menacing. But it also may be everything.

Goswin has holographic maps and diagrams to give them an idea of where they’ll be working. Something catches Selma’s eye. “What’s this?”

“That’s the barrier that separates Fort Underhill Proper from the Sixth Key,” he replies. Fort Underhill is the name of a universe that a woman named Hogarth Pudeyonavic created. She actually built a whole universe with her immense power and technological prowess. How exactly she accomplished this is not something that anyone here can comprehend, but that’s not the point. It was initially a single cosmic structure, but when the parallel realities in the original universe collapsed, all inhabitants of them were shunted into Fort Underill, in some sort of separate half of this. They don’t know how one would go about cutting a universe in half either, but that’s how it’s been explained to them. It’s like a cell that got stuck in the middle of cleaving into two new cells; separate, but forever connected to each other. That’s not really what the map looks like, though. From here, it just looks like a little tumor.

“We were told that the Sixth Key and Fort Underhill were basically two halves of the same universe,” Selma contends. “Why does this look like the former is only a tiny fraction of the size of the latter?”

“You’re thinking in three dimensions. It’s a hyperdimensional structure.”

“You’re the one who drew this. I mean, someone else did; not me. This is a three-dimensional representation of the universe. Why did they make my home smaller than its other half? Unless it’s not really half.”

Goswin exchanges a look with Atticus. “I can’t explain that.”

“Because you don’t know, or because we are not authorized to know?” Selma presses.

“Let’s go with the second one,” Goswin replies.

“That’s not good enough for me.” Selma is getting really worried now. If it’s as simple as the image before them not rendering correctly, why wouldn’t he just say that? The fact that he’s refusing to clarify makes it seem like something is seriously wrong. “This is all I can think about now, and my gut tells me that it’s immensely important. We can’t do our jobs if we don’t know what we’re dealing with. How can we protect the universe if we don’t know how big it is? What are you not telling us about it?”

Goswin sighs. “It’s not my place to say, and even if I try to say it, it won’t make sense. Demand your answers from the good people of the Sixth Key. They’re the only ones who can really explain it.”

Selma isn’t satisfied with that response, but still, she leans back in her chair, and drops the subject. They continue to go over the plan, describing the layout of the embassy that acts as the link between the two “halves” of Fort Underhill. They call it Connexion. After an hour of prep time, it’s time to go on and get on with it. Despite the fact that Goswin never managed to get the sentient tree to explain its reasoning for recruiting Catania Porter while knowing full well her complicated relationship with her son, when he requests transportation to the other universe, that request is granted.

All but Goswin himself find themselves inside of a gargantuan building. If money still existed, no expense would have been spared in the construction of this place. Greek columns tower above them, possibly all the way into infinity. A two story fountain sprays water in large arches, but never splashes out of the pool, and is somehow completely silent. Abstract statues are scattered throughout the room. A three-meter wide staircase leads somewhere mysteriously covered in fog, perhaps as a somewhat literal interpretation of the stairway to heaven? A third group of people is in the middle of a meeting at a bar in the corner. They notice the newcomers.

One of the women hops off of her stool, and walks over with an outstretched hand. “You must be Team Gatekeeper.”

“Is that what we’re called?” Andrei asks.

“I’m Hogarth Pudeyonavic.” Oh. The Creator. Maybe those stairs really do lead to heaven. “Come on over,” she urges her people. Ellie Underhill, Lowell Benton, Nerakali Preston, Gilbert Boyce, and of course, the love of my life, Hilde Unger.” She plants a kiss on her partner’s lips.

Ellie and Lowell, they know. The two of them were present during the Rock Meetings, though they didn’t say much. The magical tree obviously felt like it was only right that Fort Underhill Proper be represented, but they didn’t seem to have any dog in that fight. Selma still doesn’t quite know why the universe is named after Ellie if she’s not the creator. How did that come about?

“It’s nice to meet you all,” Atticus responds. He goes about introducing everyone in Team Gatekeeper. He then proceeds to single Selma out. “She had a question about transdimensional scale.”

“I did?” Selma asks, not because she didn’t have a question, but because she does not know what that term means. She’s not a genius scientist. “I had a question.”

“Ah,” Hogarth says. “Well. If you’re on this side of the membrane, I suppose you were bound to find out. Gilly, would you do the honors?”

Gilbert strides over to a set of double doors. He musters all of his strength to pull them open. On the other side is decidedly not another room. It’s outer space, showing a spiral galaxy floating around in the blackness, complete with a supermassive blackhole at its center, and a gas cloud halo around the edge and surfaces. That’s what it looks like anyway. It must be yet another hologram. He reaches up and runs his hand along the face of the threshold. The space ripples and flows like water, or maybe plasma. Even Catania stops looking for side gigs to admire the beauty.

“What’s this?” Andrei asks, drawn to it as a moth is to a flame.

“That...is the Sixth Key,” Hogarth answers.

“I don’t understand,” he says.

Hogarth sighs to prepare herself. “There are decillions of people in the galaxy you see before you. They were all saved from annihilation when the parallel realities were destroyed. As you might imagine, that was not an easy task, and I am not at liberty to discuss details, but what I can tell you is that one way of saving energy to perform this miracle was to shunt everyone into another spatial dimension first.”

“What are you saying?” Selma demands to know.

Hogarth jerks her head towards the open doors. “They shrunk you, to put it quite reductively. In there is an entire galaxy, along with some void space around it. Many light years separate one end from the other, but only from the perspective of those inside of it. From our frame of reference, it is but a few meters across.”

Ayata falls to her knees, and retches on the floor. Lowell instinctively reaches down, and holds her hair back for her. Andrei lurches in that direction, but the gravity of what they’re seeing holds him back. Their whole galaxy is the size of a bedroom? Everything they’ve been fighting for is just right there in front of them. It seems so petty and silly now, even though intellectually, they’re aware that it’s still populated by real people with real problems. They’re only tiny from here. Down there, they mean everything. How could they not know? They have all been living here for the last half century, and they never even felt like something was different? Now they need to question everything about their whole lives. Is anything in the universe what they thought it was?

“I know, it’s a tough pill to swallow,” Hogarth goes on. “But nothing has changed. Everything and everyone you care about is still in there. It’s still just as profoundly crucial and indispensable as it ever was. Just think of this as a mountain...which it is. We’re on the crest of Mount Hilde. Down below, the people look like ants, but that’s just because we’re really far away. When you get closer, they look bigger.”

“I think we all know it’s not that simple,” Selma argues.

Hogarth nods. “Yes, we do. I get it, you need time to digest. This is a hotel, and accommodations have been prepared for you. When you’re ready, we’ll get to work. Someone is spying on us from a frame of reference even greater than ours. We wanna know who the hell it is, and what they want.”

Nerakali has since gone over to Ayata with a bucket, in case she needs to let more out. Selma gives her a bottle of water too. She spits some into the bucket, swallows some, and spits again to continue the cycle. A robot has come out of the wall to clean the floor, and everyone starts mindlessly watching it work amidst the silence.

After a few minutes, Selma breaks out of her trance. “Someone escort her to her room so she can freshen up. Get her medical attention if she needs it.” She walks over, and closes the doors to their galaxy for now. “The rest of my team will secure the perimeter. While they’re doing that, I need full blueprints to this facility, as well as its specifications. Also, get me a comprehensive list of everyone with access to this building, and to the magic door.”

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