Microstory 2328: Earth, December 9, 2178

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Dear Corinthia,

The system works! I received your canned response, telling me that you were going to wait to write back until I had a chance to speak with dad. Well, that’s what happened. He finally came home a few days ago after having been gone the longest amount of time in my life. I gave him one night to sleep off the jetlag, but then we spoke over breakfast the next late morning. We sat down at the table together, but he knew that it was coming, and neither of us ate much of anything. He admits that his wife—your mother—came to him 36 years ago with the idea to raise us separately. They were going through a divorce, and his work was going to take him across the continent anyway. She had this opportunity to be part of the first manned mission to Vacuus, and didn’t want to go without any family at all. She framed it as her idea, but my dad has always been pretty convinced that another man talked her into it. Funny thing is, this other guy ultimately failed the mission qualification tests, so he ended up not going anyway. I’ve not gotten a name yet, but I would like to find out who he is, and what happened to him.

So anyway, it sounds like it was partly a social experiment, and partly the solution to the calculus of there being two parents in need of at least one child each, and having two children to divide into the solution. He says that he doesn’t remember why she got the girl baby, and he got the boy baby, but I don’t think that part really matters. He claims that he regretted the decision immediately, but your ship had already launched. If that’s true, why didn’t he tell me about you earlier? We could have known each other since we were kids, and had some sort of relationship growing up. Yet he played into the experiment. He could have made things a little better, but chose not to. Not only did he deprive us of each other, but himself of you, and you of him. He could have known his own daughter, and now you’re an adult, but a total stranger. I also missed out on the chance to know my own mother, though you would be a better judge as to whether that’s a bad thing, or not. He was too tired to give any more details. He didn’t really paint himself as the hero, but it’s clear that he considers her the villain. Again, he did have some control. There must have been some argument that he could have made in a court of law. Your mom had to volunteer for the Vacuus mission. They weren’t begging for her to sign up. Maybe that’s not true, though, because as I said, I never had the chance to know here. Before she died, what—if anything—did she say about how this started for her? I’ll try to find out more information for us later, but I wanted to reply as quickly as possible, so you would have time to consider and process it. To be honest, it was a rather disappointing conversation. When I think back to my conversation with him, I realize that he said as little as possible without allowing me to accuse him of being totally evasive.

Let down on Earth,

Condor

Microstory 2244: Living With Other People

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I took a look at the new place where I think we’re gonna move into. It’s really nice and new. The couple who originally commissioned it to be built ended up going through a divorce pretty much right after it was finished, reportedly because of the stress of building it. I don’t wanna gossip, though. It has five bedrooms, a finished basement, and a near finished attic. It’s not dusty and cobwebby up there, but you wouldn’t want to carry up a bed, and sleep. It’s not the kind of place that I would normally even consider, but things are different now. It’s not just about me anymore. It’s important for it to be this big. It will be easier to fortify while still maintaining privacy for each of us. Members of our security team will actually be able to live inside the house with us, instead of just being posted in a car on the street. Everyone will have their own bathroom, which I think is the biggest problem with living with other people. If you can just have your own space to clean up and take care of your business, it makes it a lot easier to deal with everything else. Well, anyway, I put in an offer, and I’ve not heard back yet, so there’s no guarantee that it’s even happening. We’ll see. In other news, I managed to schedule my next surgeries. They’ll be happening in eleven days, on a Monday. In the meantime, I’ll be sending samples to the surgeon, and occasionally going in. While Kelly no longer works for me, she’s still trained as a lifecare assistant, so I won’t have to drive to the lab every single day, or anything. I think that’s about it for me today. I’m having lunch with Jasmine and Leonard tomorrow, so that should be fun.

Microstory 1999: False Targets

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Leonard: Myka, I couldn’t decipher your abbreviated message. What is going on?

Myka: Oh my God, it’s a shitshow. Um, hello? Who is this?

Keziah: Hi, I’m Keziah Miazga. Is this her, Len-Bear? She’s pretty.

Leonard: *uncomfortable* Myka Tennison, this is my ex-wife, Keziah Feldman.

Keziah: It’s nice to meet you. I’ve not yet decided if I’m going to change my name back.

Myka: Okay, well...we have some sensitive information to discuss. Leonard, I’m not sure if she should even be in the building.

Leonard: She’s from another universe, Myka. I think she knows about aliens.

Myka: Still. *waves Henley over* Maybe she could just hang out in the break room while we deal with the mess that’s been made of the day? Hen will show you the way. It’s so lovely to finally meet you, though. Leonard has told me so many great things.

Leonard: That was a little rude, on both of your parts. I do hope that we can be civil about this. I know it’s a complicated—

Myka: I don’t care about that. Reese is missing.

Leonard: What?

Myka: I said that Reese is missing!

Leonard: I heard you. I just don’t understand. How did he go missing? He sent us a group text telling us that he was on his way back from the Capital.

Myka: I know you heard me. I’m just...frustrated. Not only has this happened, but they think that there’s been yet another alien arrival, and the people who have been investigating the whole mole thing all over the government are here, and they say we should be informed of something in that regard. Plus, Navin is having an episode. He’s fine, he’s getting checked out by the medic, but he was trying to repair the broken central heating furnace, which we’re gonna need, because winter is coming. It’s just one thing after the other, and oh my God, Leonard, Reese is missing!

Leonard: Slow down. Let’s take this one at a time, starting with the easiest. I’m here now, so I can take a look at the furnace. I wasn’t always a parole officer. It’s not a priority, though, so let’s move on. As for the internal investigators, they can wait where they are. I don’t know what all that has to do with us. Now. where are the aliens?

Myka: Wyoming again. Pretty much the exact same place that we found the others. My guess is that it’s a second wave. Or really, it’s the real wave, and the few Ochivari we found were just the little advanced team. According to our satellite, the one that just happened is a lot bigger than anything we’ve ever seen before. The scientists still haven’t measured enough instances to come up with a scale, but based on what few experiences they do have, they’re estimating dozens of arrivals. *takes a much-needed breath*

Leonard: Okay, did you send a team?

Myka: I was the only one here, so yes. I had to make an executive decision. Anaïs is leading recontainment. *consults watch* They’re probably taking off from our airbase.

Leonard: Recontainment? What is that? I’ve never heard of that.

Myka: That’s what they’re calling recon plus containment. I thought you were the one who came up with it.

Leonard: No, it’s confusing. It sounds like we’re containing something that was already contained before.

Myka: Okay, whatever, Leonard, Reese is missing!

Leonard: Okay, let’s talk about that. What do we know?

Myka: I’ve been on the phone with the Transportation Regulatory Authority, but of course, they’re still investigating. All they’ll tell me is that the plane was last seen making an emergency landing in St. Louis, and then it deblipped.

Leonard: Deblipped?

Myka: Does your version of Earth even have English? Deblip. It’s a phenomenon where an object appears on radar before suddenly disappearing. It blips away for no apparent reason. It’s usually a false target, like a fast-moving bird. I don’t know how it works.

Leonard: Okay, so if that doesn’t happen normally...

Myka: What?

Leonard: Can we access the satellite data? There was a reading over Wyoming, but...maybe there was one over St. Louis too?

Myka: You think the aliens got him?

Leonard: I think it could be worse than that. *shaking his head* We’re always talking about people coming to this universe, but it’s just as likely that people are taken out of it. It may be a daily occurrence, for all we know. Hell, maybe the satellite doesn’t even know what to look for. Departures could show up as the opposite as arrivals. We should ask them to reverse the polarity, or some shit like that.

Myka: Okay. The new science team started working last week. I’ll see what they know. You need to take homebase command.

Micro: *walking up* That can wait. The away team will still be in the air for the next couple of hours. We have another problem. I just got an email.

Leonard: An email from whom?

Micro: Remember when you and Ophelia needed to get out of Memphis? You asked for help from Anaïs’ criminal contact, Moenia. He said that he would do it for a favor.

Leonard: Crap, he’s collecting on that debt now? Today of all days.

Micro: I don’t think he knows how crazy this day is for us. He didn’t say what he wanted out of us, but it does sound time sensitive.

Leonard: *looks between Myka and Micro* Valentine, I need you to take point on this. He’s right, we owe him. Find out what he wants, and if it turns out it can wait, then make him do just that. Tell him we’re busy, obviously don’t tell him why. Read Timotei into it, and take him as backup if it comes to that. Actually, talk to me again once you find out what the favor is. Then I’ll decide if you and Timotei should go anywhere.

Micro: Timotei? He’s in procurement.

Leonard: He’s in procurement, because he was a smuggler. The two of them speak the same language. I think he can handle himself too. If you need a real fighter, though, you’re free to conscript any of the newer agents who didn’t go on the mission. Tell them whatever they need to know. Again, though, keep me posted. *turns back to Myka*

Myka: We have no idea what the hell we’re doing. We’re just winging it.

Leonard: Myka, I have been to two planets, and if there is one thing I’ve learned, it’s that everybody is a fraud, and everybody is making it up as they go along. We will get through this. We’ll find Reese, we’ll do whatever needs to be done with the aliens, and we’ll fix the heating. But until then, come here. *takes her in his arms* And somebody call the goddamn president, or whatever he is! I have questions about that jet of his!

Microstory 1998: Vastly Irresponsible Plan

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Leonard: Where is she? She’s not in a jail cell still, is she?

Street Proctor: No, no, no, no, no. She’s in the VIP quarters. She’s perfectly fine.

Leonard: The law station has a VIP room?

Street Proctor: Of course. They don’t on your world? [...] Oh, don’t look so surprised. You told me that you were in the wrong world when we first met, and now you’re some big shot secret agent. It wasn’t hard to figure out that you were actually telling the truth the whole time. I really wanna apologize for how I treated you back then. I was going through some stuff that had nothing to do with you, but it was no excuse for being unprofessional and unhelpful. And I’m not just saying that because you super outrank me now. I’ve been to some seminars, one workshop, and counseling every week.

Leonard: Well, I appreciate you saying that. It’s...very big of you.

Street Proctor: Yeah. Well anyway, your wife is right through here.

Leonard: *steps into the room* Keziah.

Keziah: Leonard. What the hell is happening? Where are we?

Leonard: What is the last thing you remember?

Keziah: I was going to Yuuna’s baby shower. I was driving around, thinking that I was very lost, until I realized that I was actually very, very lost. None of this is familiar. They call this place a law station, instead of a police station. The guy who helped me said he was a proctor, which is nothing I’ve ever heard of either. What is this room all about?

Leonard: Yuuna’s baby shower? That was months ago. That was...that was the day that I disappeared. You and I left our Earth on the same day, but I’ve been here since June.

Keziah: Time travel? We traveled through time? Wait, does this have something to do with your little friend? Where is he? He has to send us back home.

Leonard: It’s not really time travel. It’s that—let’s see, how did he put it—the timestreams for two separate universes have nothing to do with each other. And anyway, I’ve not seen him. I don’t think he had anything to do with it. It’s just something that happens sometimes. In fact, I believe that our link to him is the only reason either of us realizes that there’s something different about this world. There could be others here who  are from different versions of Earth, but don’t even know it.

Keziah: Either way, I wanna go home. Do you have a plan? It’s been months, right?

Leonard: Hold on... *starts to wave a little device all over the room*

Keziah: *turns the sink on* Is that a bug detector?

Leonard: Yes. We’re in the clear, but let’s whisper anyway. I have indeed been working on a plan, but I’ve had trouble enacting it. Number one, if we use the only tools we have at our disposal, we could be dooming our world to profound destruction, so if we try it, I’ll have to kill the alien who transported us right away, but that’s assuming he even took us to the right brane in the first place. And now that you’re here, I’m not sure we can both fit in the portal. Plus...I’ve sort of...built a new little life here.

Keziah: The ink on the divorce papers you texted me to say you signed, sealed, and sent out for delivery isn’t even dry yet. But you met someone, didn’t you?

Leonard: Yes, I did. You would like her.

Keziah: I don’t doubt it. But I still wanna go home. Tell me about this alien.

Microstory 1981: Defenses

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Leonard: Oh. I just came down here to shore up our defenses.

Myka: Same. I wanna make sure we know our exits. This is an interesting tunnel.

Leonard: Yeah, it is. Must have a purpose. Well, I’ll go find something else to do.

Myka: Are you avoiding me?

Leonard: Of course not. Why would I do that?

Myka: Well, the last time we spoke, you were leaving on your hush-hush mission—

Leonard: I was compelled not to tell you what we were doing. I didn’t even know much about it myself. We didn’t learn the details until we arrived, and even then there was a lot of improvisation involved.

Myka: I’m not mad at you for keeping it secret. I’m just saying...we were growing closer, and since you’ve been back, I feel like you’re a different person.

Leonard: I guess I kind of am different. I’ve been in situations like that before, but not quite like it. I’ve never been rogue. This is all very strange to me.

Myka: I’m fascinated by you, Leonard, and I want to know what you mean by that.

Leonard: What I mean by it being strange?

Myka: What you mean that you’ve been in such situations. You were a parole officer, but it sounds like you were so much more than that. You’ve told me that you’ve been on missions before, which is not in the job description on our planet. *waits for a response that doesn’t come* It’s okay if you don’t wanna talk about it, but I just thought...

Leonard: Thought what? Go on.

Myka: I thought that there was something between us, but maybe I’m way off base.

Leonard: You’re not, but it’s complicated. I had just finalized my divorce before I arrived here. I mean that literally. I signed the papers, then stepped outside to mail them on my way to meet a friend. I forgot something inside, so I went back in real quick, and when I opened the door again, I was here. I didn’t even notice that something was weird until I looked up and realized that I was no longer in my neighborhood. My first thought was that I lost time, but then the patrol officer started talking about the National Commander, instead of the President, and I knew that something was really wrong. I think my mail went through, but I don’t know that for sure. Maybe I’m remembering that wrong. Maybe I’m not really divorced.

Myka: Forgive me, but it sounds like you are regardless. A divorce doesn’t happen once the lawyers get the paperwork. It happens when you decide that it needs to. Of course, until those papers are signed, you can always change your mind, but you did sign them. You did make that decision, and your ex did too, didn’t they?

Leonard: Yeah, she signed them first.

Myka: I’m not asking for your love, I’m just asking what your love is gonna take.

Leonard: Those are song lyrics where I come from. Did you do that on purpose?

Myka: A man I once knew said that to me long ago. Maybe he was from your universe too. Look, I know we’re dealing with a lot right now, but we both deserve to be happy. I just want you to know that it’s okay to be a little selfish. Not everything is about DExA.

Leonard: You’re right. But let’s start slow. We can’t really go out to eat, so...wanna check out the shooting range that Micro apparently built herself?

The Advancement of Mateo Matic: November 25, 2398

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Well, that happened. Curtis was gone, as well as Cheyenne, and they left them using a tactic that no one else ever thought to try. Ramses asked Leona whether The Officiant ever gave her the means to contact her again through a divorce declaration, and she had to say that she didn’t. Perhaps it’s something that the Officiant instituted sometime after their wedding according to her own personal timeline, or she’s cognizant of every couple’s ultimate fate, so she only gives the secret words to the ones she knows will need them later. The question is whether Leona could potentially use this tactic to summon one of the few people they know without suppressed time powers, and if she did, would she and Mateo have to go through with the divorce just for the attempt? Cheyenne had to give up a favor to convince the Officiant to spirit them away, so if Leona doesn’t have anything to offer, it might not work regardless.

Right now, Leona is spinning her wedding ring around her finger. She wants to leave for the Oort Cloud, but it’s not time yet. It could take a really long time to find that proverbial nonmagnetic needle in a haystack. She still has commitments and responsibilities down here on Earth. First and foremost is the reintegration of one Bhulan Cargill into her real body. They have been communicating with her through the Insulator of Life interface, and she says she’s ready for the procedure, but that she still won’t answer any of their questions. Ramses is hooking her up to the virtual construct, so they can have a conversation in private. Erlendr’s consciousness has been restricted to a separate partition, so he doesn’t hear what they have to say.

“Hi,” Leona begins.

“Hello,” Bhulan replies politely.

“We don’t know each other very well. You don’t know any of these people very well, do you?”

Bhulan tilts her chin. “I know you well based on what I have been able to see with my time power, but I assume that’s not what you mean. No, we have not interacted much. It is in my nature to stay out of people’s personal lives.”

“Right, you meddle with the timeline all you want, but as long as you don’t talk to anybody, it’s like they’re not real people, so you don’t have to catch feelings.”

Bhulan takes a beat, but ends up confirming the truth with a, “yes.”

The construct is more elaborate than it was when Ramses first created it. He didn’t have time to program too many details back then, but he has since made a nice little fake house for her in the middle of a vast field of daisies, which are her favorite. They’re on the front porch right now. Leona sits down on the swinging bench. “This is a nice place you got here.”

“Yes, I appreciate it.”

“Have you seen where Erlendr is living?”

“I got a quick look.”

Leona nods. It’s based on the Level Two environment in Tamerlane Pryce’s afterlife simulation. You know him, right?”

Bhulan turns away to avoid betraying any telltale microexpressions.

Leona smirks and nods, because that is a macroexpression. “Level Two Static; the Reds. They’re trapped in a dark room. No windows, no light beyond the faint reddish glow that comes from nowhere, and everywhere. There’s not even a door; there doesn’t need to be, because it’s not real.” She nods again, and breathes in the false fresh air. “Kind of like this. It’s just an illusion; electrical signals being swirled around in a particular pattern. Some say that that’s all life is. We’re a brain in a vat, and everything we see is what we come up within our own minds.”

“What are you getting at?” Bhulan asks.

Leona takes a second. “Well, you’re not a brain in a vat, are you? You’re a bit of code inside of a glass insulator, and it doesn’t matter what you come up with in your mind, because you’re not in charge of your reality.” Now she gets all serious. “I am. I can put you in that fucking room with Erlendr, or I can put you in a separate one. I can turn these daisies into knives. I can remove all your fingers. I can do whatever the hell I want, and you won’t be able to do a goddamn thing about it! I am the angry one. If you wanted patience and compassion, you should have protected my husband!” She takes a moment to recapture her breath, and composure. “Fortunately, as far as we know, he’s not a lost cause, and you have a chance to redeem yourself, but Miss Cargill, you only have one chance. If you don’t give me some real information about where he is, and how I can get him back, I swear to god, I’m gonna program a Nietzschean abyss, and throw you over the edge. You’ll never stop falling, you’ll never get your body back—I’ll cremate it myself—and I won’t let anyone come save you.”

Bhulan turns to face her now, but turns away just as quickly. “You may have to get that abyss ready, because you’re not going to like my answer.”

“I don’t have to like the answer if it’s the truth.”

She sighs. “We don’t know.”

“Excuse me?”

“We don’t know where he is. Danica went into a room with him. It’s the same one that we use to erase people’s memories. You’ve been there, you just don’t remember. I don’t think she was going to do anything to him; she just wanted to talk. She needed to explain that he couldn’t ever leave, but...then we heard a scream. It didn’t sound like either of their voices—”

“Was it the Time Shriek?” Leona interrupts.

“No, it definitely wasn’t that, but it had the same level of energy attached to it. By the time we got through the door, Mateo was gone, and Danica was the one with lost memories. That room, Leona, it’s foolproof. One door, no windows, built of temporal containment materials. He could not have teleported or time traveled out. Nothing in the universe explains how he escaped.”

“Nothing in this universe, maybe.”

Bhulan winces. “You’re right, we don’t know much about all that, so we wouldn’t be able to protect ourselves against it. We’re aware that other universes exist, but we are quite ignorant of what else is out there, so...yeah, I guess that’s the best explanation.”

“Okay. I’ll tell Ramses to transfer you out, and then you can go wherever you want. Or you can stay. People seem to not realize that that is an option.”

“Thank you, and I’m sorry.”

“Lying is annoying more than anything. Just remember that when you start your next chapter. It makes everything worse, for everyone, including your damn self.”

“What will you do? How will you find him?”

“Trust is earned. You’ll have to prove yourself worthy of knowing our secrets. Goodbye, Bhulan.”

The Advancement of Mateo Matic: November 24, 2398

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Curtis found himself trapped in the containment chamber in the lab. Ramses made sure this was the case via the security cameras, but he didn’t allow anyone to go down there right away. It was especially difficult to keep Cheyenne from trying, but they kept her at bay, and it’s not like she could have snuck in. Ramses has made some decisions for this facility that he didn’t for the last one. He and Leona have unfettered access to every area at all times. If they would like to turn other areas off and on for other people, they can do that, but there’s no longer a free-for-all option. There is no reason for anyone else to be able to get into the testing room at all unless there is something very specific they need to be a part of, and the two leaders approve.

They leave Curtis in his cell for hours. No food, no water, no bathroom break. He spends his first few minutes in there trying to escape, but not desperately or frantically. If you ever find yourself in a locked room, it is an unreasonable reaction to sit there and not at least look for a weakness somewhere. It’s also unreasonable to keep pounding your head against the wall when it’s clearly not going to work. So he just sits down on the floor, and leans his back against the door. They would have put a cot, and maybe a bucket, in there if they knew this was going to happen, but it wasn’t technically designed as a cell. At least that wasn’t the original or primary intention.

Once Curtis had stewed for long enough, Ramses let Marie into the room to begin the interrogation. He didn’t give them anything. He didn’t apologize, or explain himself, or even tell her to screw off. He didn’t say a single word to them. Ramses confirmed that there were now two separate consciousnesses in his brain, having already set the chamber up to gather such data. The reigning theory is that he and Aquila are, or were, in cahoots, and he was trying to prevent her from giving away certain information about their dealings together. Best guess, they’re part of a larger conspiracy, which would likely also involve Danica Matic, Tamerlane Pryce, Dalton Hawke, and Bhulan Cargill. He’s not giving them anything, so it’s time for a new tactic.

It’s Cheyenne's turn, and no one has a problem with that. He appears to have betrayed her just as much as them; possibly more so, because of the commitment he deliberately made to her. She looks anxious, though, so Leona decides to stay by her side. She has agreed to get as much information out of him as she can for the team’s benefit, but she may fail at that, instead focusing on her personal relationship with him, and trying to get answers for that. Again, that’s okay. She doesn’t owe them anything. “You owe me an explanation,” she tells him. She’s been standing outside of the chamber for a few minutes now, but he hasn’t even noticed yet.

He stands up, and places his palms against the glass. “I’m sorry. This has nothing to do with you...with us.”

“Yes, it does.”

“No, it doesn’t,” he insists.

“You made a choice. You pulled another human being’s mind into your head, and you didn’t tell me you were going to do that, or why. We’re supposed to be a team, which means that you lied to me. I don’t care what you lied about, or how you justify it in your own headcanon, it’s still a lie.”

He doesn’t respond.

“Who are you?” she asks.

“I’m your husband.”

“How can I know that? You’re not acting like him, and we live in a universe with duplicates, alternates, illusionists, and God knows what else.”

“I’m him. I know it.”

“This is why you refused to take a simpatico test, because it would show that you and I have been apart from each other longer than you told me.”

He doesn’t respond again.

“For someone who hasn’t betrayed me, you sure are being deafeningly quiet.”

“I can’t tell you everything, not yet.” He can see that he’s losing her. “But I will. I promise, everything will be revealed in due time. We’re just...not ready.”

“Not ready for what?”

“Time. Time is not ready. Certain things have to happen first, it’s hard to explain. We must make arrangements.”

“Who the hell is we?” Cheyenne questions.

Curtis scowls, and looks up at the nearest camera. “I think you know who.”

She shakes her head, and turns it towards Leona. “Could you give us just a little space? Once Leona steps away, she continues with Curtis. “I don’t care about any of that, or those people. I just want to know who I married, and what he was doing for the X amount of years he was wandering alone in one of the old—” She stops herself, and looks up at the camera too. She almost gave away one of her own secrets. Maybe she can’t be so mad at him when she’s keeping something so important from the people who took her in, and never pushed her for answers.

“I haven’t been gone that long, and I’m not really one of them, per se. I’ve just been sworn to secrecy. These people can’t know. If we were alone, that would be one thing, but it’s in everyone’s best interests if the timeline plays out as its meant to.”

“Okay, Kang the Conqueror,” she mocks.

He rolls his eyes. “It’s a little like that, yeah.”

She starts to tear up as she pulls a tightly folded piece of paper from her pocket.

“What is that?” he asks.

She unfolds the paper, and holds it up between them. “I, Cheyenne Duvall, hereby remove—oh.” She stops herself to literally remove her wedding ring from her finger, which she never let the rest of the team see until today.

“What are you doing?” he presses.

“Yeah, what is this?” Leona concurs.

Cheyenne decides to begin again. “I, Cheyenne Duvall, hereby remove this token of marriage from my person to symbolize my intention to begin the proceedings for the dissolution of said marriage to Curtis Duvall. On this day, the 24th of November, 2398—according to local timekeeping standards in the parallel reality colloquially known as The Third Rail—I formally request audience with The Officiant.”

The Officiant’s office appears out of nowhere. The Officiant herself steps through the door, and frowns. “Tell me your grievances.”

“No grievances. Just get the two of us out of here, and I’ll owe you a favor.”

“A favor,” the Officiant echoes, “from you?”

“Yes, anything you want,” Cheyenne confirms.

The Officiant glances over at Leona. “Sorry to disrupt whatever it is you’re doing, but I can’t pass up this opportunity.” They all three disappear, as does the office.

Microstory 1780: Triangulum

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My parents hate each other, but they claim they can’t get divorced. My little brother is very sensitive, and they don’t think he could handle it. Unfortunately, they can’t stand to even be in the same room as each other, so I don’t think that’s really helping him. They parent him separately, and I’m expected to fill in the gaps. He may be too young to be consciously aware that he never sees the two of them at the same time, but it’s almost certainly affecting him, and eventually, he’s going to grow up. I guess they’re hoping they’ll be able to finally walk away from each other by then. I think it would be far less traumatizing to the kid if they just took care of it now, but they won’t listen to me. I’m just the older brother in the middle. My therapist calls it triangulation. In order to put up a united front for my brother, both of our parents have to agree on whatever decision needs to be made. But since they can’t talk directly to each other, they go through me. My mom sleeps on a pullout couch in her home office, while dad stays in the master bedroom. They coordinate their schedules so they don’t end up in the bathroom at the same time, and mom still needs to keep some closet space up there. Again, I don’t know that their youngest doesn’t notice all of this, but again, I’m actually the one coordinating it for them. I’m responsible for knowing who is going to pick him up from soccer practice, and which is available for the next game. Both of them have pretty flexible schedules, and could theoretically watch him play together, but one will always pretend to be busy, and it’s up to me to decide which, making sure that he doesn’t feel too neglected by either one. It’s such a pain. It’s also not fair. I’m 17 years old, I’m not supposed to be responsible for their relationship. My therapist says I need to stand up for myself, and he wants to have a conversation about that with all three of us, but that is just this side of completely impossible. I gave up on trying to fix them a long time ago.

It wasn’t always like this, and even after it started, it wasn’t always this bad. It’s not like they had a meeting at one point, and contrived this plan to triangulate their fourteen-year-old son. It started out small. They would fight about the baby, and one of them would sleep on the couch that night, but then they would work it out, and come back together. This happened more and more until they realized that they sometimes hadn’t spoken for two straight days. I was brought in to relay their messages, but if that got to be too complicated, they would step in, and finish the conversation themselves. But then they stopped doing that altogether, I guess because I got better at anticipating their responses, lessening the amount of back and forth necessary. I became half my father, and half my mother, so that I could act on each one’s behalf to the other without actually speaking to them about what they would choose to say under normal circumstances. It was too late before I noticed that I had lost my whole self in that chaos. I’ve been trying to get the real me back for a year, but it can’t be done unless we break the triangle. So that’s why I’m here today, Your Honor. I know it will be a long process, but it must be done, and I was advised by my counsel to begin now. I turn 18 in six months, and when that happens, I need to have full custody of my brother, so I can take him out of that toxic environment. Our parents are not going to like it, but I’m confident that I will prove myself to be the most mature person in the family. I have filled out all of the requisite paperwork, and I’m ready to plead my case, whenever you are.

Microstory 1729: Crater

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I have not been able to get very much sleep for the last few weeks. Really, when I think about it, it’s been a lifelong problem. I have too much stress. At first it was because of my parents’ hostile divorce, then my schoolwork was too hard, then I was trying to get into a good college, then I was looking for a job, then I had to deal with a terrible job. It just never ends with me. I keep thinking that things will get better if I can just solve this one major problem. Then I do, and I find that the grass actually isn’t greener on the other side. It’s mostly more dirt and I have to cross yet another void to get to something better. My therapist says that things actually have gotten better, and that just because some people at my high school reunion are CEOs and city council members, doesn’t mean I’m a failure. She suggests I stay positive. But I was born optimism-blind, and I don’t think there’s a cure. I finally get to sleep when the ground shakes, and the loudest sound that has ever pounded on my eardrums attacks me from all sides. It’s a crash, but there’s also this sizzling electrical sound. I order my smartspeaker to turn on my lights, and watch as my glass figurine collection threatens to topple over, but never does. I swear to God, some of them actually do tip before straightening back up, like some kind of ghost is there to protect them for me. The ground continues to tremble, and a deeper darkness overwhelms my windows. I switch the lights back off as I get out of bed, and move over to look outside. All I see is the black. I stand there for hours, watching it ever so slowly dissipate. It’s dust and debris, and it takes a long time to settle. No one answers the phone, not even the police. The sun comes out, and I can see a crater.

I check every window in my little house. The crater wraps all around me. It doesn’t look like a bunch of different craters, but a single one, of which I rest in the middle. A massive doughnut must have fallen from the sky, and left me unscathed. If there really was a big space doughnut, though, it still shouldn’t have spared me. I mean, the tremors alone should have sent me to hell with everyone else in my neighborhood. The hole is so large than I can’t even make out the houses that weren’t crushed by it. I see the edge in the distance, but everything left above is too far away to discern. I cautiously step outside, and crawl to the edge of my little protected patch of land. I realize, though, that if I were capable of dying, it probably would have happened already. The thing that protected my figures wasn’t likely a ghost, but a guardian angel. I don’t think I have to be careful anymore. I peek over the edge of my patch, and look for the bottom of the crater, but I can’t tell if I see it, for the light does not reach as far down. I check the GPS on my phone. No, I’m not in La Brea, so I doubt there’s a portal below me that will send me to prehistoric times where CGI monsters still roam the lands. I check all around my—I don’t know whether to call this a butte, or a mesa, or a plateau, because it’s as tall as all hell, but narrower than my now-dead neighbor’s political beliefs—patch. I see nothing that would explain what saved me, or whether the theoretical angel is still here. Just then, two helicopters fly over from different directions. One appears to be military, and the other from a news station. As they’re inspecting me, trying to figure out what the hell is going on, their rotors just stop, and they fall out of the sky, into the crater. Others come, hoping to understand, including an AirEvac, but they all suffer the same fate. I was wrong. An angel has not saved me. A demon has doomed me.

The Advancement of Mateo Matic: Tuesday, October 18, 2225

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Mateo sat on the bench, pressing his forehead against the palm of his hand so hard, it nearly punched a hole in his leg with his elbow. Nerakali stood before him, patiently waiting to make sure that his rant was over. “I can’t help you, Mateo,” she finally said somberly.

“I know,” Mateo replied. “No one can.”

“I don’t mean that,” Nerakali said. “I can’t help you, because I’ve never been in a relationship before. My siblings and I were all created with two powers. I have the ability to travel through time. Zef had the ability to be an asshole. Arcadia is the one with the ability to fall in love with humans. She has an unhealthy, and let’s face it, twisted way to show her love, but it’s there.”

“Are you saying I should talk to her instead?”

“Oh, absolutely not, don’t do that. You’re the target of her obsession. If you don’t get Leona back, my sister will seize her opportunity, and come after you again.”

“Great, so it’s pointless.”

She reached down, and forced his chin up to make eye contact. “I can’t help you, but I know someone who can. You should talk to her first, but I’m certain that she’ll want to do some couples counseling.”

Mateo looked away, and searched through the version of his notebook that listed all the people he knew that he kept in his mind. “Mallory Hammer?”

Nerakali smiled. “That’s right.”

“Leona won’t go for that.”

“Leave that to me. You talk to Dr. Hammer today, and I’ll make sure Leona gets there tomorrow, okay?”

“Okay.”

“All right, I’ll summon her.”

They were finally on their way to the stellar neighborhood. A lot of their transitions involved them crossing back into their own timelines, but that wasn’t so common anymore. It appeared that they were doing that again by going to Bungula, Alpha Centauri, which was where Leona was the first time she experienced 2225. At this point, both she and Mateo were off of their pattern, and living one day at a time. They weren’t together, though. While she was here, he was millions of light years away, on Dardius. This older and wiser version of Leona could remember pining after him, wanting desperately for them to reunite. That seemed so stupid now. She still loved him, sure, but their time apart probably did them good, and it would again. Either way, she was grateful right now, because if she had to meet her alternate self today, at least he would have no chance of also being there.

They connected the Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez to a Nexus, and jumped away to Bungula. When the transition beacon first appeared on their screens, it said that they had two hours to get there, but once they landed, the countdown started dropping rapidly. They ran out of their ship, and over to where the window was meant to be. The timer got all the way down to thirty seconds before it went back to normal speed. “What the hell was that?” Leona questioned. “Were we in a time bubble, or something?”

“I don’t know,” Jeremy said, “but there’s something different about this window.” He was looking around in AR mode.

“What is it?” Leona questioned, looking around herself. Bungula in the main sequence looked exactly as it did in The Parallel, which didn’t make any sense. While it was entirely possible that the people in this reality would deliberately recreate the design of their main sequence counterparts, the ones in the main sequence would not have done the same on their end, and this was of clear Parallel design. There was something wrong with the cuffs, or the transition window, or both.

“Uhh...Leona?” Olimpia said. “I see what’s different.”

“What?” Leona asked.

“It’s you,” she replied vaguely. “You’re the one flickering.”

“I’m flickering?” That didn’t sound good.

“Yeah, I see it too,” Angela confirmed. “What does that mean? Are you going to transition to the other side?”

“Oh, shit,” Leona realized. “I know what this is; it’s an ambu—” All of her friends disappeared, leaving her alone in what looked like a waiting room.

Dr. Mallory Hammer peeked her head through a door, and smiled. “Mrs. Matic? We’re ready for you now.”

Leona frowned. “I did not agree to this.”

“Still, you need it.”

“I wouldn’t think a reputable doctor would try to give someone counseling without their consent,” Leona argued.

Dr. Hammer sighed. “There are two doors in this room. You choose. Do you want things to get better, or do you wanna be a whiny little asshole? One of you has taken the first step, but this is a three-legged race, and he can’t go anywhere with you.”

“Oh, great metaphor,” Leona said sarcastically.

Dr. Hammer ducked back into the room, but left the door open.

Leona looked over to the exit, and then back to the first door. “Goddammit,” she muttered under her breath. She walked into the room to find Dr. Hammer just sitting down on her chair, holding her tablet. Mateo was on the couch, sitting as far from the door as possible. He somehow inched even farther away upon seeing her. He was recoiling. “Okay, you make it look like I’m an abusive partner.”

“Is that how you see yourself, Mrs. Matic?” Dr. Hammer posed.

“No, of course not,” she argued. “He’s being dramatic. I kicked him out of the house, because he was acting crazy, and I didn’t feel safe. Now he’s projecting that onto me, like I’m the bad guy.”

“No one said you were the bad guy,” Dr. Hammer assured her. “Why don’t you have a seat? Yes, right there, it’s fine. You don’t have to cuddle, but if you weren’t both trying to make this work, then instead of talking to me, you would be speaking with The Officiant about a divorce.”

“Is that even possible?” Leona asked.

Mateo twitched.

“I mean academically,” Leona clarified. “Sort of. No, I mean—” She was this close to hyperventilating.

“It’s okay,” Dr. Hammer said. “Take your time.”

Leona composed herself. “The Officiant made it sound like divorce wasn’t a thing. I don’t want to bring her into this, because I’m worried I misunderstood, and divorce actually is possible, and that she’ll force it upon us.”

“Okay,” Dr. Hammer said. “That’s good. Mr. Matic, do you agree? Do you not want to get divorced?”

“I don’t want a divorce,” he stated.

“So, we’re all on the same page. I don’t want you to divorce either. Now, we all know each other. My name is Dr. Mallory Hammer, but please just call me Mallory. I don’t say that just to sound friendly. I really do prefer my first name. Can we all use first names in here?”

“Yes,” both of them said.

Mallory straightened her skirt, and considered that path forward. “I would like to open the floor for each of you to...tell me where you believe this tension in your relationship is coming from. You will do this by taking turns, and will not interrupt each other. I spoke with Mateo yesterday, and I don’t want to poison the discussion with what I already know about what he believes, so Leona, you should go first.”

“It’s just been tough to be around him,” Leona began to explain. “He’s so unpredictable now. Ever since he and Angela had that run-in with the Ochivari, he’s been different. He had to literally lose his soul to save lives, and even when we got that fixed, he’s been weird. I just never know what’s going to happen. Truthfully, it scares me.”

“That wasn’t my fault,” Mateo argued.

“What did I say about interruptions?” Mallory questioned.

“I’m sorry.”

Leona wanted to respond to his claim anyway. “I know it wasn’t your fault. Maybe none of this is. Maybe that psychic woman who fixed you didn’t do it right, or maybe this is just an unavoidable side effect. It doesn’t really matter, I still feel unsafe.”

The two of them waited in case Leona wasn’t finished, but she was, so Mallory prompted Mateo to tell his truth. “I think she’s been just as unpredictable. She used to be so patient and understanding. And not just with me. She would meet someone knew, and always give them the benefit of the doubt, and wanted to help. I’m not saying she doesn’t help anymore, but she just looks so...tired of it. Do you want out of this pattern?”

Leona didn’t answer.

“I don’t want to do this opening statement thing,” he complained. “I want her to answer my question.”

“I don’t have an answer,” Leona said. “That’s not true, I do. Because I don’t. I don’t want off this pattern. For the first time, I feel like I am helping people. Maybe we did it a little in the beginning, but it wasn’t our purpose. We didn’t have a purpose. Now that we’re finally free of the powers that be, I feel like we’re putting some good into the universe.”

“That may be true,” Mallory jumped in. “Of course, I mean to say that it is true, you’re doing good things. But the question is, do you have to be on the Bearimy-Matic pattern to do it? Do you have to be on any pattern to do it? Plenty of people do great things with their lives, and they live one day at a time. They don’t travel through time, or go to other planets. Do you think it’s possible that you actually are perturbed by the new pattern? It used to be that you showed up every year, but now it’s sometimes three years, and sometimes it’s twenty. That must be hard”

She hadn’t been so mindful of this, but yeah. When Jupiter was in charge, it was somewhat antagonistic. He didn’t give them a choice. Now that Nerakali was the boss, it did seem a little weird that they were still bound by the same arbitrary limitation.

“That’s true,” Mateo said. He appeared to have been thinking the same thing. “Why do we skip so much time? That’s not necessary at all. Do we even need to skip any time? Couldn’t we just take off our cuffs?”

“No,” Leona replied. “Thanks to Tamerlane Pryce. When he resurrects people, he doesn’t—or maybe can’t—give people powers, but he can replicate patterns. Or maybe he can just replicate ours, because skipping forward in time isn’t the same thing as going into the past, and creating a new reality, or manipulating time in some other way.”

“Oh, that’s right, I forgot,” Mateo mused. “Still, we can suppress our pattern. Or we can just suppress Jeremy’s. Our cuffs give us those options, and Nerakali gives us access. She hasn’t limited us, as far as I know.”

“Is that what you want to do?” Leona offered. “Do you want to switch off the patterns? I suppose these cuffs are exactly what Missy, and all those people in Ansutah, were looking for. We’re using them to share, but that’s only one use.”

“Are we doing this? Are we going to try to change the game?”

“We’ll have to ask the others what they think.”

“First, what do you think we should...” Mateo looked around, but there was no sign of Mallory. “Dr. Hammer? Where did you go?”

“She disappeared,” Leona revealed. “I saw her out of the corner of my eye. It looked like she did it on purpose. She picked up her phone and cup of tea just before.”

“Why?” Mateo wondered.

“I think we’re back on track. Or at least we’re on two tracks that are about to connect with each other.”

“The question is, when we do reach the railroad switch, will we slip onto the same track seamlessly, or will we crash into each other?”

Leona stood up. “I suppose that’s for us to decide. One of us will have to get there first to avoid a collision.”

He nodded.

She reached a hand out to him. “Let me be the one to speed up. If you keep going as fast as you have been, we’ll miss each other.”

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The Advancement of Mateo Matic: Tuesday, October 15, 2222

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With Angela’s help, Mateo was able to chill out a bit, and not be so focused on figuring out how to destroy The Superintendent by reaching out to his God. For the record, my God is named Sophia Dimo, and she’s a very lovely girl who doesn’t take sides, so his idea would not have borne fruit. Now they needed to focus on their next mission, which was taking them to what they would call Italy in the main sequence. Of course, in both realities, humans were living in tall arcologies, so they were in the middle of nowhere, in a rocky field. The AR flickers showed a man sitting at a desk, studying some papers. When the transition completed, he fell on his ass, but he was okay. Like they all did, he looked around, confused. He didn’t appear to be shocked to be in a completely different setting, though, like he had done it before. He noticed the transition team around him. “Are we still speaking English?” he asked. He said all the right words, but he seemed to be struggling with it.

“Yes,” Leona replied. “What language are you more comfortable with?” She started tapping on her Cassidy cuff.

“I was birth to speak Classical Latin, but I know other Latins. I now learning English modern.”

“We can speak Classical Latin for you,” she explained. She started to speak into her cuff. “Does this sound better?” All the other cuffs started translating her words in real time. It was Latin, but it sounded like her real voice.

Angela handed the man one of the extra cuffs, which he just held in his hand. “Yes, that’s much better,” the translation returned.

“What’s your name?” Leona asked.

“I’m Statius. I was born on the first day of what you would call Year One, A.D. On the day I turned eleven, I jumped forward eleven years, and a year after that, it happened again. It was year 22, year 33, year 44, and so on. It was just the year 2222, and I should not have yet jumped again.”

“You haven’t jumped forward,” Leona clarified. “It’s still 2222, but in a different reality.”

Statius crooked his neck. That didn’t seem to translate well.

“A different world,” she said, hoping that made more sense.

Time travel, he seemed to have a grasp of now, but any scifi nonsense beyond that was probably out of reach. He likely hadn’t met any other time travelers before. “Why am I here?”

“Were you in danger?” Jeremy asked through his own cuff. “We help people in danger.” He was always the one to explain that.

“Not that I know of,” Statius said. “The people here have been very friendly. They didn’t get mad at me for not understanding their magic boxes, and have been letting me learn the language using real paper, which is apparently rare in this time.”

“Yes, we no longer need it,” Leona agreed.

“We need to figure out why he’s here, why Nerakali chose him to transition,” Jeremy mused, not into his cuff.

“No, we don’t.” Mateo argued. He spoke into the cuff, “what do you want to do? Do you like being a time jumper?”

“I would like to go home,” Statius replied. “I wish this had never happened to me. I just want things to be how they were.”

“That’s not something we can do,” Jeremy said apologetically.

“Now, hold on,” Mateo said. “Let us discuss your situation. We may come up with a solution yet.” He spoke to the group without the cuff. “I may have an idea, but we should speak alone.”

“You can discuss it,” Angela said. “I’ll stay with him. I speak Classical Latin anyway.”

Mateo led Leona, Jeremy, and Olimpia back to stand next to the AOC. “What’s this idea of yours?” Leona questioned.

“We’ve been looking at these missions the wrong way. Jeremy keeps saying that we’re saving people, but we’re not saving them, we’re freeing them. He’s not in danger of being crushed by boulders falling down a landslide, or from being pursued by an evil serial killer. He just wants to go home, and I propose that we do that for him.”

“How?” Olimpia asked. “We can keep him in The Parallel to protect him from the powers that be, but his life was in the main sequence. They won’t let us put him back. I guess I don’t really know that, but I imagine they’ll be upset. He’s supposed to jump to the year 3333 in a few months.”

“No, we can’t take him back to where he was,” Mateo agreed, “but we can make him think he’s there. We can even make him think he never left. We can erase the last...”

“Twenty,” Leona helped.

“...twenty years of his life,” Mateo finished. “Make him think he’s a regular eleven year old in Ancient Rome, or wherever he was.”

“How would we make him think that?” Olimpia pressed.

“Virtual reality,” Mateo offered. “Put him in a simulation. Let him die there when it’s his time.”

“Mateo, that’s a...” Leona trailed off for a second. “The ethics for something like that are very unclear. You really think that’s what Nerakali had in mind.”

“I don’t care what Nerakali wants. This is what he wants.”

“You don’t know that,” Jeremy pointed out. “He wouldn’t understand it, even if we told him.”

“We don’t have to tell him,” Mateo contended. “We jack him into the Matrix, and make it look like it did when he left. I know the Parallel natives have the ability to reconstruct the past using a subject’s memories. Hell, they may even have data on what the world looked like at that time anyway.”

Leona was shaking her head. “It would all be a lie. He would literally be the only person in the world. He may not know it, but he could feel it. He could sense that everyone else is different, even without realizing that they were NPCs. If he ever did find out, it could drive him insane.”

Mateo wasn’t so worried about that. A well-respected scientific theory hypothesized that people were indeed living in a simulation already, and it didn’t make most people crazy. Hell, today was the day Leona went off to another universe to learn that it was kind of true, but she was fine. When he pointed this fact out to here, she disagreed.

“I did go crazy. I was in therapy with Eight Point Seven for a long time because of this revelation. I mean, we already knew that The Superintendent was playing around with our lives, but to learn it was literally a game that a bunch of children were playing to entertain themselves, was too much.”

“Well, we’re talking about the worst case scenario,” Mateo reasoned. “I trust the natives to know how to program a flawless simulation. Coupled with the fact that he’ll have his memories erased, it should be fine. Eleven-A.D. is too far in the past to have an inkling that the world around you is just zeroes and ones.”

“He has a right to consent,” Olimpia tried to defuse the situation before the Matics could get into a real argument about this. “We can’t erase his memories unless this version of him agrees to it. If we’re confident that he understands it won’t be real, but he won’t remember that it’s not real, then I’m all right with this plan.”

Leona seemed to be off the topic, and onto a more general problem. “We used to be a team. Mateo, I don’t know you anymore. I never know if you’re going to be your original naïve self, your new and improved zen self, or an explosive, vengeful asshole who frightens me. Whatever you and Angela are doing, it’s not working. You are too unpredictable, and you’re too dangerous. We’ll do whatever Statius wants, but after that, I don’t want you part of this team. You can keep the cuff on, but while the rest of us are handling the transitions, I want you to be off doing something else. It doesn’t have to be therapy, but you can’t come back until you can make me feel safe to be around you again. You need time to recover from whatever it is you’re going through.”

“Are you really doing this?” Mateo questioned, mortified and confused.

“I’m really doing this.”

“We need to talk.”

“No, I’m done talking,” she said angrily. “I can’t talk to you. I don’t even wanna look at you anymore. I’ve been trying to stay patient, but that’s not working either. You have options; don’t think you don’t. You can do what I asked, which I think is best, or you can take off the cuff permanently, and fuck off. Or we can get divorced, and you can still fuck off. I won’t have you on this team until you can prove you deserve it.”

“Why don’t you have to prove anything?” Mateo fought.

“Do you two think I have anything to prove?” she posed to the others.

They didn’t say anything.

Leona went on, “I’ve made mistakes, I admit that. I’ve always been me, though. You always know what you’re getting. You can’t say the same anymore, so I’m giving you a choice. What will it be?” She checked her cuff. “You have two minutes.”

Mateo set a timer, and waited the full two minutes. The other three remained silent the whole time. “I’m leaving, but I’m keeping the cuff. I want you to think about something, though. I want you to ask yourself whether you should take off the cuff instead, not because you’re not good for this team, but maybe you’re misunderstanding the situation. This is me now, this is who I am. You can’t understand what it’s like to lose your soul unless it happens to you. That’s not a thing that people can just...learn about second-hand. It was...it wasn’t the scariest time in my life as it was happening, but it gives me shivers now. Am I different? Yes. But I won’t apologize for that, and how dare you demand that I do. I don’t need time to figure myself out. I think you need time to figure me out. So maybe you should take off the cuff, and not come back for another, uhh...”

“Three years, goddammit!” Leona screamed. “The math is not that hard. The next jump is three years, and then another three years, and then nineteen years, and then three years again!”

Mateo stayed calm so as not to lose what he believed to be the upper hand. “Who’s unpredictable now?” He tapped on his cuff, and requested authorization to teleport to Nerakali’s location, which was the only place that he could teleport. Walking away in real time would not have gotten him away from his wife fast enough. Nerakali accepted immediately, probably after having been eavesdropping on their fight.

Once he was gone, Leona fell to her knees, and sat down. She was breathing heavily, and pressing her knuckles against her forehead. She was having a panic attack. “What did I do? What did I just do?”

Olimpia knelt down and wrapped Leona in her arms. “You can’t be around a man who doesn’t make you feel safe. You did what you had to in this moment.”

“Was it even me? Or is this just another twist for the Superintendent to capture his audience?”

No. This was an inevitable development, and a long time coming.

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