Microstory 2453: Threshold

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A liminal space is an empty place of transition, such as a hallway or a stairwell. The keypoint is that it’s empty, devoid of life...except for you. This invokes a sense of unease, suggestive of not simply being alone in the room that you happen to be in, but in the world, or even all of time. It is quiet and creepy, and behind every corner could be a lurking threat. It’s hard to decide if such a threat even would be worse, however, or if you wish something would be there just so something would happen to break up the emptiness. Just so you wouldn’t be alone anymore. That is the idea behind a dome simply called Threshold. It’s nothing but liminal space. Any empty room you come across will just lead to a closet, another hallway, or another empty room. You will occasionally come across a small white bucket on a table that’s missing a leg, or a stain on the carpet in the vague shape of a man. While it is generally quiet, random unplaceable noises will sound off somewhere nearby, like a creak, or a chirp. When you walk over to investigate, you won’t find anything, except maybe a surprise mirror, which could give you life-affirming jumpscare. I’ve been through this one a lot, because I revel in the disquiet. I see it as an opportunity for introspection and self-reflection, if there’s a difference. I should wander around and give a think on that. There are some water stations for safety, but no other supplies. You go in with a dayfruit grower-slash hygiene station combo cart, and a cot, but that’s it. Whenever you’re ready to leave, you can activate an exit beacon. A bot will come to retrieve you and lead you out through the nearest locked trapdoor. That’s the only time you’ll see someone else, and once you press that button, you gotta go. If you’re wondering if it’s even possible for multiple people to visit Threshold, and not run into each other once in a while, I assure you that not only is it possible, it may be impossible for two to cross paths. There is plenty of room here. Like the terminal, the outer shell of the liminal space complex takes up just about the entire volume of the dome, which—I looked it up—is 149 thousand cubic kilometers, or 149 billion megalitres. With over 13,800 floors, you’re not gonna run into anyone else. They make sure to keep us separated, and while I can’t be sure, I believe the locked doors I run into occasionally would lead to other people’s areas. Thresholders, as we like to call ourselves, have been discussing the possibilities on the message boards, but Castlebourne gives you very little information. Obviously part of the experience. Normally I wouldn’t discourage someone from visiting a dome. My reviews are usually pretty upbeat and favorable, but it takes a strong stomach to even cross one threshold once you’re inside, let alone a series of them. I don’t know for sure that there aren’t any monsters hiding in dark corners. I only know that I’ve never seen any before. But I do hear those noises, and I don’t know what’s making them.

Microstory 2438: Raindome

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Oh, this one is interesting. There are two lakes, one of which is higher than the other. They are appropriately named Upper Lake and Lower Lake. I’m a little disappointed at the lack of creativity, but there’s no mistaking it, and it’s not that big of a deal. The water flows from Upper Lake, into a river. Can you guess what it’s called? You’re close, it’s not just River, but Spiral River. This river flows all along the entire perimeter of the dome, and then some. There are bridges all over, so you can step out to your left any time you need, and head for the nearest exit. They’re hidden behind the dome’s immersive hologram, but will illuminate once you get close enough to the wall, so if you get lost, just find the border. You won’t get trapped, I promise you. I say this because someone on my boat did have an issue, and they were struggling to get out. They probably should give you the instructions ahead of time, so that’s a bit of constructive feedback. Let’s get back to the river. You can take all sorts of leisure boats on this thing. Canoes, kayaks, riverboats. You choose whatever you want. You may be with a group, and they may be humans, or NPCs. It really just depends. The river flows out of Upper Lake, and down a steady slope in a spiral. It isn’t perfectly circular, it still meanders a little bit, but if you look at the drone feed above, it still doesn’t look natural. It’s often raining, which is why this isn’t called Lake-Spiral River-Lake Dome. These aren’t the sprinklers that I think they use in Nordome. This is real rain, powered by the process of evaporation and cloud formation above, supplied by all the water that’s around. Since there’s no sun inside the dome, they use extremely precise heating lamps to trigger this evaporation, but they try to keep visitors from seeing it. I suggested to our captain that they should heat the water from below, but he says the physics doesn’t work out all that well, and they would like to put fish in there at some point. That would be cool, I wish they were already there. I hope they don’t have to transport them all from Earth, or we could be waiting for over a hundred years. Here’s what’s amazing about this. You can request a boat that’s completely sealed up, which has its own holographic display. You collectively decide on the apparent environment. You can make it look like it’s raining when it’s not, or not when it is. That was such a great idea. I never would have thought of it myself. And it really works. Anyway, I think you can guess the rest. The river keeps going down the spiral until it reaches Lower Lake in the very center. Keep in mind that while I said there were all sorts of boats, that doesn’t include all boats, full stop. There are no motorboats or personal watercraft. This is meant to be a relaxing environment, not an invigorating adventure. There are plenty of other places for that. Have you tried Polar Tropica? Like, stop complaining. Sorry, it was annoying that our boat ride was delayed because of a belligerent visitor who was demanding them to give him a water jetpack. They literally didn’t have them. Again, that’s not what this is. This is an amazing feat of engineering, and nothing you could get on Earth. It’s against the law to rupture land like that these days. One last thing so you don’t wonder, but you don’t have to be in a boat, or be on it the whole time. You can just get out and relax, maybe have a picnic under a mini-dome where it’s not raining. Don’t be rowdy, though. Just sit back and enjoy it.

Microstory 2436: Tundradome

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It’s just a big tundra, what do you want from me? It’s even worse than one of the desert domes, because it’s cold. I know, that’s obviously the point, tundras are supposed to be cold. I don’t know what I was expecting, but there’s just nothing here. They don’t even have animals running around, which you would find in a real tundra. I did get the sense that this dome was unfinished, but also not a priority, but there wasn’t anyone around to explain it to me. The vactrain stopped here, I walked through the doors, and I was outside. I went back into the lobby to see if I needed to sign in, or something, but there really wasn’t anyone around. They didn’t even have a help button on the wall. Surely they wouldn’t have let me come here if it was legitimately closed to visitors. There were others who showed up a few minutes after me. We didn’t talk, but they seemed pleased. They stopped a few hundred meters from the entrance, and I guess admired the beauty before them. Then they picked up their gear, and walked away. I assume they went off to camp somewhere, but I don’t know for sure. I doubt they went far, because they were carrying their stuff in their hands, instead of in packs. Listen to me, reviewing the other visitors as if that matters. I should have asked them real quick if maybe I missed something. Like, maybe there’s a different entrance where they went to first, or they messaged someone ahead of time. I could contact customer relations, but I think writing this review is as far as I’m gonna take it. It’s clearly only meant to be a tundra as that’s the name. They’re never going to add activities or adventures, so no matter how much they work on it, I’m never gonna wanna come back. I don’t suggest you do either. If you want to camp, try Foggy Forest. At least they have trees there.

Microstory 2432: Infinity Suite

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Oh, I’ve just discovered that, not only can you review an entire dome, but also individual parts of that dome. So here I am, talking about the Infinity Suite in the Palacium Hotel. If there’s one thing this planet does well, it’s not worrying about how much space people take up. The Infinity Suite is the best example of this. I have no clue how it works, but that’s the right word for it. No matter how far I walk, or how many doors I step through, there’s always somewhere new to be. There’s always a new room to explore. Yet, I can’t get lost in it either. Each room, with no exception, has at least three doors. You can go back the way you came, press forward to explore more, or exit to the hallway. And when you do exit—again, no matter how deep you’ve gone—you’re back where you started. But here’s the thing. Your suite has two entrances from the main hallway. One goes back to the beginning, and the other returns to where you last were. So it’s not just some kind of trick of the mind, or an illusion. Or maybe it still is. It boggles my mind, I can’t figure out how the crazy Escher configurations work. Your last known location is somehow being stored in memory. And don’t you think that I’m just in a new hallway that was designed to look exactly like the original one. I’ve made changes, both inside and out, and tracked my progress. I’ve left little numbered pieces of paper on counters, chairs, and couches to create a map. I’ve matched each number with a photo of the room where I put it in. It matches afterwards. I can go back in through the second door, and retrace my steps, and nothing will have shifted. Those rooms are all in there where they’re supposed to be. That still doesn’t rule out some kind of advanced holographic illusion, but I suppose it doesn’t matter, does it? It’s still the craziest place I’ve ever been. They let me stay here for two nights, but then I had to give it up, so someone else could try it. There were presumably an infinite number of bedrooms, but I barely slept, because I was too busy trying to figure out how it works. If you manage to secure a booking, please write your own review, and provide any answers that you may have. Or, if you have any explanations, or ideas of what other tests that we could possibly run, comment below. I’m so confused and curious. I won’t ever stop thinking about it.

Microstory 2428: Escape Dome

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I’m a little bit biased here, because I’m obsessed with escape rooms. I’m old enough to remember when that was a fitting name for them, because they were mostly only one room. Some of them had different sections, but you didn’t unlock a door, go through it, and start on an entirely different set of puzzles. I watched as they grew and grew, both in popularity, and in scope. Escape rooms became escape buildings, which became escape districts, which have now become escape cities. I always loved puzzles, even as a kid, so this became my thing. I didn’t have a whole lot of friends, and that was on me, but I still wanted to do this. I remember regularly going in alone, and them having to group me with strangers. They were sometimes annoyed by this, but for the most part, they were welcoming, and they quickly realized either way that I was more of an asset than a burden, even though we didn’t have a preexisting rapport. Eventually, I wasn’t going in alone anymore. I finally found my community. The most passionate of us started a little club. The reason I’m giving you all this background is that every single member of this club is still alive, and still together. I don’t know how rare that is, to have eleven friends stay connected after all this time. None of us wanted to move to another planet without the others. No one’s marriages and families broke us apart—though, the rest of us would have understood if they had, and been happy for them. The point is that we’ve been doing escape zones for nearly 500 years, so we know what we’re talking about. I doubt we managed to try them all, but we certainly did the majority. It’s our passion, and I don’t think that’s going away anytime soon. Escape Dome is the largest adventure we’ve ever played. Of course, it’s not just one game that goes across the entire area, but each game is still immersive and impressive. I think I saw that they did have the traditional kinds, which were just the one little room each, and we might do that when three or four of us have an hour to kill. I should clarify, we started out with a club of eleven people, but over time, it’s nearly doubled, thanks to those marriages and families. Not everyone wants to be a part of it, which is fine, but the cool thing about some of these games under the dome is that all twenty-four members can play at the same time. We’ve never been able to do that before, even with the escape districts. Twenty has always been the absolute max until now. Our first two adventures were extraordinary. We kind of thought we had seen everything, but even beyond the larger scale, there were puzzles that blew our mind. The great thing about this concept is that anyone can have fun with it. I’ve heard people say, “oh, I’m just not a puzzle person” but we put them in one of those rooms, and they have a blast. Don’t count yourself out until you give it a try. If you end up not enjoying it at all, hey, you don’t have to do it again. Some of the adventures are designed to potentially take weeks, so don’t start with one of those. Be smart about your choice—which the staff will gladly help you make—and I’m sure you won’t regret it.

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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Microstory 2271: It Won’t Be Long Now

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It’s so much worse than we had imagined. After everything Nick has been through; traveling through time, bouncing around the multiverse, being trapped away from his friends, getting sick over, and over, and over again. At worst, we thought that he would be dead. That would have been horrible, but at least he would no longer be suffering. There were consequences to this blog that none of us foresaw. Learning that Nick’s organs fetched such a heavy price from a reputable and trustworthy businessman, an as-of-yet still at large basket of deplorables abducted my friend, and took him to a makeshift surgical theatre. You heard that right. There was clearly an audience to this thing. It was put together quickly, but it was made with great purpose. A surgeon tore into his body, removing both of his kidneys, his liver, his spleen, and even his gallbladder. I don’t know how much they intend to make for these stolen organs on the black market, but there’s no way these assholes aren’t going to be found. The authorities don’t have to sift through dozens of other dark web postings for organs. They only have to find the one that’s advertising miracle organs for an insanely huge amount of money. They’re going to get nothing, and then they’re going to jail. Meanwhile, my poor Nick will be dead. He’s not immortal anymore, and no one can survive losing that much of their key organs. The doctors have placed him on life support, but there is only so much they can do. These five organs are literally vital to the proper functioning of a human being. It’s true, you can donate half a liver, or one whole kidney, and be fine. Yes, you can be suffering from kidney failure, and be kept alive through regular dialysis. With the proper lifelong treatment, you can even live without your spleen or gallbladder. But you can’t survive if all of these things are ripped out of you all at once. He’s going to die if another miracle doesn’t happen, but I really don’t see that happening. Dutch is running around in a panic, opening every single door that he can find. He has even demanded keys from hospital staff for locked doors. He’s trying to make another connection to the bulk to restore the magic of Nick’s immortality for but a few minutes, just like he did when he came back here from another world. Needless to say, it isn’t working. What happened that day was a fluke. If an angel is looking out for Nick, I can’t imagine they have the inclination to do it a second time. Even so, I’m letting Dutch try, because it’s not hurting anything. Well, it is, he’s causing a disruption, but everyone here has been pretty cool. They know why he’s doing it. Me, I’m sitting at Nick’s bedside, holding his hand, and hoping that he can hear me. It’s really sad to say, but...it won’t be long now.

Microstory 2238: Stress Will Kill

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I made a decision this morning to be a more positive person. It doesn’t make much sense that I’ve had to be such a downer lately. I beat death! That’s a good thing, even though it doesn’t change the fact that everyone else is going to die eventually. So will I, even if some other Westfaller opens a new door, because they can’t keep it open forever. Believe me, if I knew how to help you, I would. In my stories, I had trouble being able to kill characters off, because I built a world where there were so many ways around it. Even when I did come up with a way, I rather quickly undid it, and placed all the dead people in an afterlife simulation that was essentially heaven—even for the not-so-great people (because at least they still existed)—but digital. There was even a way to get out of the simulation, and return to true life. I hate death more than the average person, which I know is saying a lot, because most people don’t like it a-tall [sic]. I could tell you about all of the technology that those people used, and which others did in other universes, but I would never be able to develop them for you. It’s a lot easier to conjure a genius character than to be as smart as them. It’s nothing that you guys have not already contemplated, I’m sure, like longevity treatments, telomere restoration therapy, cybernetics, mind-uploading, etc. Anyway, I don’t wanna get hung up on this, because that’s negative, man, and I don’t wanna be negative anymore, man. Let’s all just be chill, and only move around when we need to relax. Sound good? In the end, stress will kill you faster than anything. So, what does this all mean for the future? I’m not sure yet, but I’m going to try to remain calm, and not worry about things too much. I’m sure everything will be all right, one way or another. I’ve never had that kind of attitude before, so I’m not sure if it will work, but I may as well try.

Microstory 2237: Good Number of Zeros

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Okay, I’ll make this brief. People did not like what I wrote in my last social post. I told you yesterday that I wasn’t going to be making any book deals, or anything, but I think most of you know that that’s not really what I meant. I was saying that I’m working on my own timeline, and contemplating my future privately. Dutch came back to this world through an interdimensional doorway while I was starting to wonder whether it even existed. For the first time in months, there is hope for me to see my friends again, and maybe even my family if I’m lucky. So no, some of you misunderstood me. I did not reject the concept of making money, and I am not being a hypocrite. I told you that I would be doing this on my own terms, which means not accepting just any offer that comes with a good number of zeros. Let’s do it right, not just quickly. This is all happening so fast, I don’t know what tomorrow holds, let alone the next year, so just be patient. For now, I’ll ask you to read my site if you want, and not try to give me any ideas. I appreciate the thought, and I’m not mad, but this is all I need for now. One thing I will tell you is that the internet is the only place where I share my thoughts. I don’t see any reason to write an autobiography that you have to buy. That ain’t me.

Microstory 2231: Back to Life

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I can’t believe that I’m writing this. Something truly miraculous happened, which all but proves that Nick was telling the truth the whole time about being an immortal time traveler. I guess I better start at the beginning of the story. At exactly 8:15 this morning, which is reportedly Nick’s favorite time, the nurse switched off his life support machines, and let him pass on to the end of his life. I was there with him, as was his former assistant at the jail, Jasmine. We were crying, and telling him that it was okay for him to leave, that we would be able to go on without him. And with those words, his vitals dropped to zero, and he was gone. Not five seconds later, a guy I used to know came in through a door near Nick’s isolation bubble—which is supposed to lead to a supply closet—brought forth by a spread of colorful light. Those who saw it at the right angle report seeing some kind of tropical beach on the other side of the threshold. Months ago, just as Nick was starting his job at the nursery where I worked, a coworker named Dutch Haines mysteriously disappeared. Nick was convinced that there was a supernatural explanation for it, and of course, no one believed it, because they had no reason to. But now we do. Dutch has told me that he was on another world, though we have not had enough time for any specifics, because his reëmergence was not the most impressive part of the story. Not at all.

Nick suddenly came back to life. The monitors started beeping again as he was arching his back. Color returned to his skin, and his eyes opened. He pulled the intubator out of his throat with ease, and sat up. For a moment, he sat there, strong and proud. He was not just back to his old self, but a powerful, more confident version. He looked younger than he did the day I met him earlier this year. He pulled the IV needle out of his arm just as Dutch’s door was falling closed. Someone tried to open it again, but found only the supply closet on the other side. I remember Nick positing that his health could be rejuvenated if a link to the multiverse was created, even if only for a few seconds, and he was so right about that. For those few seconds when Dutch returned to us, Nick was immortal once more. He has seemingly gone back to normal since that door closed, but it’s too late for the prion. Apparently, Nick’s immortality came in multiple layers, even though some may seem to cancel out the others, and those layers are there for a situation such as this. In that one moment, the prion disease was cured, and Nick was restored to health. He was invincible and ageless for only that short period of time, but that’s all he needed. He now looks like a normal twentysomething guy, free from all disease, or other medical problems. He can now surely suffer from something new again, but at least he’s not terminal anymore. Now we just need to convince the world that this hasn’t been one big lie. People will say that it never happened—that it was just a prank, or maybe even a long con. But it’s real. Dozens of people witnessed it in person, and millions more watched the livestream. Plus, several doctors diagnosed his condition before the miracle. He was definitely on his deathbed, and there was no way for him to get out of it unless something like this occurred. The doctors are frantically examining and testing him now, but we all already know the truth, don’t we? Nick is meant to be immortal, and he’s not meant to be in this universe. Now more than ever, he must find a way back home, and I for one, am ecstatic for the opportunity to help him

The Advancement of Mateo Matic: June 12, 2464

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Using a communications array that the Maramon built, Leona was able to make contact with Hogarth Pudeyonavic. She was aware of the membrane thickener that the Angry Fifth Divisioner had deployed, and was working on a way to get rid of it. In the meantime, there was another way out of this universe. Like many other places, time travel was illegal here. And like all other places, there were exceptions. The way A.F.’s machine worked—which Leona now believed should be called a quintessence multiplier, or maybe a concentrator—what used to be known as dark matter would consolidate over the boundaries of the target universe. It would seal up any dark energy leaks, and tighten the borders. What was unclear as of yet was whether this happened like blood platelets clotting a wound from the inside, or more like a bandage wrapping it up from the outside.

The fact was, this process happened in realtime, starting from the moment that it was initiated. It did not extend backwards in time, which meant that the kasma was still accessible from any point in history. Hogarth agreed to send them back just long enough to let them cross over through the aperture, where they could go on their merry way. The only condition was that they not attempt to change the past in any way, even to stop A.F. from completing his mission. If Hogarth ended up solving the problem using such a technique, then that would be her decision, and it would happen on her timetable.

Hogarth could not, or would not, send them back in time in the little ship that Leona had engineered for them. The suspicion was that Hogarth wanted to use the skeleton key that it was equipped with for herself, which was surely okay, and a fair tradeoff for them. In another deal, they also agreed to take the hybrid, Aclima with them. She didn’t want to give them her reasons, but she promised that she harbored no ill will towards them, nor any nefarious plans for the multiverse. As payment for her ticket to the past, she gave Past!Mateo his own suit; helmet and all, so he too could survive wherever they ended up going.

Once they returned to May 30, 2451, the group was free to leave Fort Underhill. They were planning on crossing the kasma, and entering Salmonverse through its own aperture, but decided that they wanted to reunite with the rest of the team first. Now that they were already in the kasma, it was better to return to Stoutverse now, or they may never get another opportunity. They would still find a chance to help Past!Mateo complete his mission on Verdemus, even if that meant having Carlin relapse them to the Goldilocks Corridor in the 2420s and 30s. That was assuming the Maramon wasn’t lying about its significance anyway.

They were floating in the kasma now, listening to their past selves in the Transit deal with A.F.’s wrath. “We have to get on that train,” the present day version of Angela determined. She was speaking through the laserlink. They needed to be able to communicate with each other without interfering with the timeline, so outgoing signals from their comm discs had to be disabled. Laser communication was a great way to send a signal to a specific target—or in this case, targets—without worrying about anyone else intercepting it.

“All right, we teleport to the caboose,” Leona decided. “Stay on the outside for now, and find something to hold onto for a few seconds. I’ll teleport in while invisible, and scope out the car, then signal the rest of you.”

“We don’t have much time,” Marie pointed out, realizing that their past selves were nearing the end of their argument with A.F., and would be bugging out soon.

“We don’t need it.”

Past!Mateo took Aclima’s hand, and they all teleported to what they believe to be the outer hull of the rear car of the Transit. Instead, they found themselves inside of it. They had gotten pretty good at precision, so it didn’t make much sense that they would be off target. Sure, it was only meters too far, but it was weird just the same.

Future!Mateo pulled his helmet off, as did everyone else. “What the hell happened?”

“Let’s just be happy that no one is in here to catch us,” Marie said.

Leona started to look up and down the car. “No, this is weird. Hold on.” She looked through the window. “There’s the next car.” She jogged over to the other end. “There’s the equilibrium. I gathered information about this thing while we were on our way to Stoutverse. Every car is the same size; roughly thirteen by fifty-five by twenty-one meters. This is much shorter. I would have seen it on the floor plans if this were a thing. I think...” She trailed off.

“We’re invisible,” Aclima guessed.

“I think so. There are meant to be fifty-five cars, but this could be the fifty-sixth.”

“It’s like it was made for us,” Angela mused.

“Check out this caboose!” Past!Mateo joked.

They felt a lurch as the Transit flew into overdrive in a desperate play to escape the kasma. Olimpia would soon use the Sangster Canopy to cleave a canal between the two universes to avoid being captured by A.F. All the future versions of the team would have to do now was sit tight, and wait to catch up with their own time period, effectively closing their loops. If they lay low, and waited patiently in secret, they could reveal themselves in four days, and get back to work with the knowledge of the quintessence consolidation machine. They could also engineer a new skeleton key, which should allow them to somehow return to Salmonverse, and make their way to Verdemus. Navigation was going to be the biggest issue, but that was a problem for tomorrow. For now, they just had to be concerned with life support for Aclima for four years.

The secret fifty-sixth car was shorter than all the others, yes, but it was slightly taller. At twenty-four meters, instead of twenty-one, they were able to look through a window to see the rest of the Transit. Wow, it really was inspired by trains. This would be called the cupola. It also had a window in the back, which was showing them what was happening behind. While most of them were watching the ship race through the kasma canal, Past!Mateo was looking in the opposite direction. “Uh, guys? Something looks wrong here, so maybe you oughta look?”

“What is it?” Leona slid over to check out what he was seeing. Brilliant technicolor lights were illuminating the walls of Salmoverse and Fort Underhill. Olimpia’s magical powers were separating them only for long enough to let the Transit pass through. It wasn’t ever meant to be a permanent canal, and in fact, that was probably not physically possible. The walls were closing back in on themselves, and this appeared to be happening faster and faster. She lifted her watch to her face, and kept an eye on the timer. “It’s accelerating. We’re not gonna make it.”

“That’s impossible,” Angela said. “We already know that we’ll make it. We’ve done this before.”

Leona shook her head. “The Transit will make it, but not every car...not this one, and maybe not the next one over. I don’t know. There is a margin of error in my head math that I am not comfortable with.”

“We need to teleport to the next car,” Marie assumed.

“I’ve been trying,” Future!Mateo said. “We can’t do it, not now. I think it Olimpia’s power is blocking us.”

“Or the kasma, or the canal, or the bulk, or the quintessence. There’s no way to know what the problem is.”

“Fine, then let’s just walk over there,” Marie offered.

“Can’t do it!” Aclima declared from one level down. “The door’s locked!”

Leona looked back at the advancing walls of doom. “Brace for impact!”

 Suddenly, the door that Aclima was trying to get through opened from the other side. A man stepped through. “What’s going on in here?”

Before anyone could answer, a burst of technicolors flooded the room from the outside, and threw him across the car, and down a couple of levels. Everyone else fell down too, though not quite as hard. Leona got herself to her feet, and raced down to shut the door, but it didn’t seem necessary. They were exposed to the harsh environment of the equilibrium, but doing just fine. The atmosphere wasn’t trying to escape. Well, there had to be a reason it was called an equilibrium in the first place, right? Still, she closed the door, and reached down to check on Aclima, who had hit her head, but was conscious, and recovering quickly.

Everyone checked on each other, and seemed all right as well, having suffered only superficial wounds. They found a cot in a nearby compartment to lay the man down. Leona looked down at him with a sense of familiarity. “I know him.” She pulled her handheld device out, and started swiping through their list of known persons.

“That’s not important right now,” Marie told her. “We’re drifting.”

“So go check the systems,” Leona ordered. You’re tech-savvy enough. I shouldn’t have to do everything.”

“I know who that is,” Past!Mateo said as both Angela and Marie were walking down to the control terminal. “I remember him from your memories, back when I didn’t exist. That’s the guy in the secret seventh pocket dimension on the Elizabeth Warren. His brother was the one who killed Annora Ubiña.”

Leona nodded. “Right. But it wasn’t his brother. It was his cousin.” She found what she was looking for in the list. “Jarrett. That makes him Hadron.”

Hadron’s eyes were still closed while he swallowed, and adjusted his position on the cot slightly. “That’s me, Hadron Grier.”

“What are you doing here?” Leona asked.

Aclima slipped her hand under Hadron’s head, and pulled it back out. There was a little bit of blood on it. “No more questions.”

“That was one question,” Leona clarified.

“I’m fine,” Hadon said, sitting up, and allowing Aclima to move the pillow up to the wall for him to lean back on. “My medical nanites will heal the wound. To answer your question, I never thought I would see you again. My cousin was sent to prison for murder, but since he did it for me, it was decided that I wasn’t completely innocent. I was sentenced to house arrest for three years. That was fine, I was finally free of the tyranny of Durus. Still, when a magical door suddenly opened up on a wall that wasn’t supposed to have a door, I took the opportunity to cross over.”

“You worked in The Crossover,” Leona noted.

“For a while, until I found myself taking up a righteous cause in Universum Originalis. I should have known that I would end up in a place like this. What goes around, comes around, eh?”

Aclima pulled her suit’s drinking tube past her neck, and hovered over him to let him have some water.

“Thanks, love,” he said. “Are you gonna take me back to jail?”

Leona scoffed. “Ha, what? That was, like, 280 years ago.”

“Oh.” Only now did he get a look around. “I don’t understand what this is. I was in the caboose. I thought maybe you were a boarding party, but this appears to be of Transit architecture.”

“This is the real caboose,” Future!Mateo explained to him. “It was invisible for some reason.”

“I see.” Hadron took another sip from Aclima’s water tube, which from the right angle, looked a little like he was breastfeeding from her.

Angela came back. “Interestingly, this thing can operate on its own power. We think that we can follow the Transit to Stoutverse, but we’ll never catch up. It doesn’t go fast enough.”

“That’s okay,” Leona said. “Time ain’t nothin’ but a thang. Plot a course, and yalla.”

“We’ve already done that,” Angela replied.

“Great. Mateo?” Leona asked

“Which one of us?”

“Both,” she answered. “Go explore this place. Find out how many cots we have, and see if you can find a food synthesizer, or anything else we can use.”

They did end up finding a food synthesizer, as well as a number of cots, though they didn’t really need them all that badly. The most important discovery was an advanced industrial synthesizer, which was compatible enough with the datadrive that Leona already had with her regarding the skeleton key. She was able to build a new one in a matter of hours, which allowed them to cross over into Stoutverse without having to piggyback on the Transit proper as it entered. They didn’t even have to worry about laying low until they closed their loop in this world either. That navigation issue randomly spit them out of the bulk on June 12, 2464, which wasn’t that much later than when they left.

They were able to reconnect with Ramses and Olimpia, who updated them on everything they had been dealing with. The government wanted to use a Westfall visitor as a human bioweapon, and since they couldn’t accomplish that, they just took his blood to develop a serum, which they distributed to the whole population. Despite it seemingly being over, Westfall still wouldn’t let the man go home. They offered to try to take him back instead using their new bulk traveling machine. That seemed to be enough to break reality, though. When Dutch Haines attempted to follow them through one of the doors of the bunker, he disappeared, hopefully back home where he belonged anyway. But there was no way to know. Oh well. They were still going to leave, but they weren’t going alone. Kineret asked to tag along, but this was a complicated situation, because technically, due to her position as the Primus’ lieutenant, it was considered going AWOL. They needed to approach this with care and caution.

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The Advancement of Mateo Matic: June 11, 2463

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Carlin McIver knocked on the door, and waited patiently. Kineret opened it, even though she knew that he was on the other side. She looked him up and down as if she hadn’t seen him before. Then she sighed, and looked behind her where her boss was working. “Have you changed your mind?”

“Have you?” he prodded.

“I’m steadfast in my convictions.”

Carlin peeked over her shoulder at the Primus. “Or is that just what you would have her believe?” Kineret didn’t believe in using the Westfall boy as a bioweapon any more than he did, but this was what the world government was trying to do, and she had to fall in line. As influential as she was in her position, she wasn’t a god. He was only hoping that she would eventually openly admit her disapproval, so it would at least be on the record.

“Did you need something, Carlin? Because if you’re not going to change your mind about sending one of the sick Ochivari to their homeworld, the Primus has nothing to say to you.”

“When was the last time you even had an Ochivar as prisoner?”

“It’s true, it’s been slow, but we’ve never gone longer than eight months without a new incursion. We’ll get a new test subject soon. I’m hoping that you see reason. We have a saying where I’m from, all’s fair in love and war.”

“That it’s poetic does not make it true. Where I’m from, we call that an aphoroid, not an aphorism.”

“Goodbye, Carlin.”

“Madam McArthur, Madam McArthur!” a man in uniform yelled from down the hallway. He was running towards them.

“Slow down, soldier. State your business.” She was being protective of Naraschone.

The soldier caught his breath. “We found ‘im. The weapon.”

“Where was he, an oceanic island?” Dutch Haines, a.k.a. The Dragonfly Slayer. He was the carrier of a disease that seemed to only affect Ochivari. They wanted to send him to the aliens’ homeworld to wipe them all out, but some people believed that to be a war crime, including Ramses Abdulrashid, who decided to put a stop to their hopes and dreams by abducting Dutch, and hiding him somewhere. Since Ramses only existed in the timestream once a year, even if they had the means of extricating the information from his brain, they would only ever have twenty-four hours to get it done. For two years now, all available resources had been funneled into the manual search. They had evidently finally been successful in that mission.

“No, he was living in a cave above the arctic circle. He was actually only about forty kilometers from the nearest settlement. He was apparently quite comfortable there, albeit alone.”

“Is he on his way here?” Kineret asked

“Yes, by chopper.”

She looked at her watch. “Team Matic comes back in three days. We have two to make this happen if we don’t want further interference. Divert them to the Ochivari prison. The Primus and I will meet them halfway.” She looked back at Carlin. “You’re coming with.”

“Oh, no thank you,” Carlin said.

Kineret just darted her eyes to the soldier, who knew what that meant. He took Carlin by the shoulders, and escorted him away.

A half hour later, all three of them were in Carlin’s jet, along with Primus Mihajlović, as well as a small strike team, and of course, the pilot. He didn’t love them using this for a mission that he did not agree with, but it didn’t really belong to him, and anyway, that wasn’t the problem here. They were likely planning to coerce him into transporting Dutch to the Ochivari home universe, and he was worried what their methods would be. This was a civilized society, with laws and everything, but they didn’t all make a whole lot of sense. For instance, a prisoner of war could only be held for a certain amount of time before they were legally entitled to a return trip home, but the laws determining what the prison could do to them within that time frame were a lot less clear cut. Did Carlin qualify as a war prisoner, or were they just going to call him a guest, and in that case, were there any laws dictating their treatment of guests? Were there other loopholes? And what about Dutch’s rights? Did he have any, or was he nothing more than a walking, talking, Sunday chillin’ weapon of genocidal proportions?

They arrived in the Subarctic North, and landed by the prison. Dutch was already there, taking a nap in something called the VIP room. Carlin was dragged in there too, which served to wake the former up. “Hey, dude.”

“You been doin’ okay?” Carlin asked.

“Same as it ever was.”

“That can’t possibly be true.”

He just shrugged. Dutch was a carefree guy who once worked at a plant nursery, and seemed to take everything that happened to him in stride. Surely there was a limit to that. Surely dying in a strange universe after spreading a deadly disease to upwards of billions of aliens would be enough to wipe that kind smile off his face. Once the Ochivari realized what was happening to them, and that Dutch was responsible, were they just going to let bygones be bygones? Probably not.

“You know this isn’t right, right?”

Dutch shrugged again. “They need me to go to that universe and kill all those funky-lookin’ people. They need you to send me there. Way I see it, we just keep refusin’, no matter what they do to us, their plans ain’t happenin’.”

“I wish I had your confidence,” Carlin lamented.

Dutch stood up, and opened his arms up. “Come on. Come on,” he urged quietly.

Wanting to keep this oddball on his side, Carlin approached, and accepted the hug. It was actually kind of nice.

“With this warm embrace, I donate to you...half of my confidence.” He pulled his chest away, but kept his hands on Carlin’s shoulders. “It’ll grow to full-size before too long, like a lone lobe of a liver.”

Carlin unwillingly released a chuckle, and looked away as he struggled to tamp down his own smile. “Man, is that how livers work?”

Dutch nodded with a wider smile. “Yeah.”

Carlin breathed deeply, and separated fully from Dutch to pace the room a little. “There’s a way to put an end to all of this. I could just send you home. I don’t know about you, but it sounds like the safest place for you. Do you want that?”

“I don’t know that that would be a good idea. The government is aware of your power. Why would they put us in a room together, knowing what you’re capable of? Seems sloppy to me.”

Carlin looked over at the door. “You’re right. Sloppy, or...part of a plan.”

“Have they experimented on you? Maybe they have a way of overriding the navigation, or just suppressing your powers altogether.”

“Yeah, that’s...that’s certainly possible. This whole situation is fishy.”

“I’m willing to try if you are.”

“It’s too risky. You can’t go within two meters of an Ochivar without making them sick. By the time you can run away, the damage will have already been done.” Carlin shook his head disappointedly. “They’re playing mind games with us. They know we can’t try without being absolutely certain. We’re in this room together either because they have indeed screwed with my powers without me realizing it, or because they knew we would be worried about the possibility, and end up stuck. Either way, it’s hopeless.” He had a way of finding out the truth, but it wasn’t a peaceful solution, and it would burn a pretty big bridge. Plus, a lot of things would have to go right for him to even be in a position to gather the truth. He didn’t want to threaten Naraschone’s life anyway. He didn’t agree with her, but he wasn’t about to take her hostage for it.

Kineret stepped into the room. “You’re still here.”

“Yeah, it was locked,” Carlin reasoned.

“Right, but you could have sent him home.”

“Or is that what you wanted all along?” Carlin questioned.

Kineret didn’t understand why that should be so nefarious. “Yes, we figured you would want to do that.”

“Did you mess with my power somehow?”

“We would have no clue how to go about that. We took blood samples from you years ago. The power isn’t in your blood, it’s in your brain, and I think you would remember if you had had brain surgery.”

“Would I?” Carlin pressed.

Kineret exhaled, annoyed and tired. “Your powers are fine. We don’t need him anymore. Elder came up with a new plan. All we required were more blood samples from him. His job is done now.”

“Blood samples for what?” Dutch asked.

“The virus,” Kineret began. “We’ve abandoned our plans to attack the homeworld. We’ve decided that our only concern is our world. So we will be distributing it to our people, and our people alone. It won’t end the war, but it’ll get us out of it. And I guess that’ll just have to be good enough.”

“You’re gonna spread a virus to the whole planet? You don’t see a problem with that?” Carlin asked her.

“Obviously I do, but Elder is confident that it will not mutate into something that can harm humans as well.”

“Oh, right. Elder Caverness, the security guard with no background in epidemiology. Glad you got your top people on it.”

“I swear,” Dutch said, “I never donated any of my confidence to Elder.”

Kineret winced, having no clue what that meant. “Send this man home. This will be your room alone, and you’ll only be given rations for one person. Your job for the government is done as well. You’ll be permitted to leave when Team Matic does, if they should ever come back with a way to travel freely.” She unceremoniously left the room.

Carlin tried to open the door, but it was locked again.

“We can try to share the rations,” Dutch suggested.

“No, she’s right. There’s no way they could have messed with my power. I’m from another universe, it’s not that easy. Very few people in my universe are called metachoosers because they can do things like that, and they’re always on the run because of it. If any rando scientist could figure it out on their own, that wouldn’t be such a problem.”

“I don’t want to leave you alone with these people,” Dutch said sadly.

“I’ll be fine. I should have sent all three of you home when you first got here. I was under the impression that you were here for good reason, but...well, I suppose that’s still true. I guess I just never thought it would be for a distasteful reason.”

“There’s a parable from my world. A man was late for dinner after he was working in the fields,” Dutch began to recite. “When he did return, the dog had eaten his portion while the family was asleep. So he returned to the fields, and picked some vegetables to eat instead. That night, a storm rolled over the lands, and destroyed the fields. And the farmer, he, uhh...well. Hold on. A farmer went home for dinner, and the dog. The dog... What was the dog doing? There—there was a war. And the farmer’s son...”

“Dutch?”

“Yeah?”

“I think I get it.”

“Okay.”

Carlin didn’t get it, but Dutch was never going to get to the end of this story. It was time for him to go. Unfortunately, fate had other plans. Carlin relapsed him back to his universe, or at least he attempted it. It was unclear whether he ever made it at all, because seconds later, Dutch walked through the door. Westfall brought him here, so this was where Westfall wanted him to be. There was no getting around that. They still didn’t know who was the mysterious force running the show, but there was probably no overriding that kind of power.

Kineret and the government believed them, and allowed them to stay in the VIP room together, one portion of rations each. A few days later, Ramses and Olimpia came back. They were not happy about what the Primus had decided to do. Ramses looked over the data as best he could, but he was no epidemiologist either. He understood how profoundly unpredictable the variables were, though. Just because Elder thought he knew how the virus worked, didn’t mean he was right, or that things wouldn’t change in the future. Just the very idea of a difference between the future and the past had to be thrown out the window. They may not see the consequences for centuries. The people of Stoutverse may never know the damage they caused. But Ramses knew one thing, Elder’s plan didn’t work the way he wanted it to. Humans were going to die. That was how the multiverse worked.

Ramses also wasn’t down with the whole VIP room in the prison thing, so he swiftly teleported them out of there, and placed them somewhere safe. While not particularly luxurious, they had everything they needed on the island, including one important thing. If Dutch was ever going to find his way back to his universe, it likely required constant access to a door.

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