The Advancement of Mateo Matic: July 29, 2398

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It came to Leona Matic’s attention that Alt!Leona doesn’t really like to be called that. Before things went haywire in her timeline, she had already developed feelings for her version of Mateo Matic, but they never got married, and she never took his name. She asked to be referred to Leona Delaney, or maybe just Delaney. They both asked Leona Reaver what she would like to be called to distinguish her from her two alternates, and she doesn’t really care. Unless ambiguity comes up, they decide to use her married name in the same way. They all have different last names, so that should make things easier to understand, and prevent any of them feeling less than.

Reaver wanders into the lab. Ramses is out in the field so Leona Matic is the only one here right now. “What are you working on?”

Leona sighs, grateful for the break. “My final report.”

“Report on what?”

“I’m building the government a fusion powered rocket ship. It’s all been on paper and computer modeling so far, but that’s almost over. I’ve completed quadruple checking the specifications, and once it’s approved, it will be ready to be disseminated to manufacturing. Well, I guess I still have more paperwork, because we can’t have people knowing what it is they’re building, so I have to break up the work. One guy will be in charge of fabricating part of the shielding, while another welds them together, but neither will know what the finished product looks like, or what it’s for. Sorry, I’m rambling. This type of work always makes it hard to go back to talking normal.”

Reaver is looking at the document on Leona’s screen, but not really.

“What is it?” Leona asks.

“How did you do this?”

“I’m afraid I don’t understand.”

“How did you get so smart? I barely passed my high school math classes,” she clarifies. She looks like she’s feeling very self-conscious and unworthy.

“Oh. Me too, early on. But then I got a tutor.” She looks up and thinks about it. “Actually, it was Mateo’s half-sister from an old timeline...but we didn’t know that yet.”

“That’s all it took? One tutor, and you’re suddenly a genius?”

“Quite frankly, Leona Reaver, you’re also a genius. So pretty much, yeah. Frida didn’t just teach me how to solve for X. She showed me how to think about math and science in a new way. She showed me that I already knew all this stuff, but it was trapped in a box of anxiety, self-doubt, and an inferiority complex.”

Reaver continues to look at the document in a half-grimace.

“Do you wanna ask me something?” Leona asks.

“I’m afraid that you’re too busy.”

Leona nods. “Honestly, I am. Work is ramping up, not slowing down. I’ll have to be away from home daily for months, overseeing production. But Ramses is independent, and better educated,” she adds in response to Reaver’s frown. “He’s just as intelligent, but he was born later in the timeline, so he would be a better teacher.”

“Do you think he’ll go for it?” Reaver asks hopingly. “Would you ask for me?”

“He absolutely will, but I think it’ll be better if you ask instead. Show initiative.”

“Okay, I think I will. Thanks...self.”

Microstory 1598: The Suicide Crowd

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Prompt

Thousands are gathered before me, awaiting my instructions, and this is what I will tell them.

Botner

Thousands of potential suicides are presented to me, and I will tell them that it doesn’t matter what I feel about it, that they have to kill themselves, that there is no other way. I tell them I have no intention of feeling differently. I am moving around the crowd, feeling each one of their burdens. Many of them are traumatized, tortured by memories of events from their lives—of others they’ve hurt, of tragedies they’ve experienced. They know I have no empathy, and I can feel their anger rising. I can feel their anger for me, as I do with everyone else. I don’t feel any more anger than I have ever felt. I make a circle around the crowd, seeing every face, judging every manner of aggression and hatred I can see. The faces move, turning, shifting into one another. They turn like a revolving door. I make a new circle, and they move into it. I count the changes as they go around. There are 598, and they move around 8 times. I make another circle and they have moved 17.

Conclusion

They continue to turn and shift into each other, until more than 81,000 people have become only one person. This is the one. He is the embodiment of all of their pain, and depression, and self-doubt, and fear of the future. Thousands were ready to die, but I have removed that sentiment from them with my circles, and channeled it into this one amalgamated person. Only he will die, and all others will live, free from the burden of their pasts, from the torture of their mistakes, from the hatred they’ve been feeling for themselves. I have freed them from this, as I have done many times before, and will continue to do for all who need it. I only wish I could save them all, but I can only do this a few times a year, and those who do not truly wish to die must come to me. I force this gift on no one, and judge not those who deny it. The amalgam stands there in a stupor. He is feeling all the pain of everyone in the crowd, and it’s made him numb to the world. I open the palm of my hand, and leave it waiting at my side. My assistant carefully and slowly removes the case from the bag. He knows I am patient, and this is a ceremonial gesture. He sets the case on the table, and admires it for a moment, my hand still waiting. He opens the case, and removes the syringe, which he finally hands to me. I cannot use this myself. The amalgam must do it, and he must choose it, and only he can choose it. This is the burden of being the amalgam, and no one can take his place.

He begs me to kill him, for he is afraid. He wants to die, but he does not want to do it himself. There is no other way. To free these people’s souls, he must sacrifice himself. He sobs, and continues to beg me to put him out of his misery, but I cannot. Once he’s sure I won’t help him, he accepts the syringe, and I see a spark of light in his eyes that I’ve never seen before. No amalgam has had this. It’s almost...it almost looks like hope. There is something different about this crowd...something interfering with the process. I look deeper into his eyes as he contemplates ending it all, and realize what’s happened. The people who come to me to be freed of their suicidal thoughts have all left satisfied, but they came into it with such skepticism. My reputation has long since been acknowledged, though. This latest crowd knows that it works, and they arrived with something few of them have ever had. They arrived...with hope. And that hope was channeled into the amalgam man, along with all the pain. Now this hope grows inside him, and every second that passes, the chances he’ll ever use the needle decrease. He looks at me, and he shakes his head. “These people are already free. They had within them the power to change their minds...their hearts. They do not need you anymore. They never did. Most importantly, they do not need someone like me, accepting the burden of their suicidal thoughts. All they need is hope, and we can’t give that to them anymore.” He grins, and looks down at the syringe again, like it’s nothing more profound than a pathetic broken pencil. Then he reaches up, and stabs me in the chest, driving the poison into my body. I die.

Microstory 1342: Opening Statements

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Prosecutor: [Majority of opening statement cut for time.] ...so this is a simple case. The defendant threatened the victim in public. No, it wasn’t a threat of death, or even violence, but he promised to cause quote-great troubles for [him] in the coming days-end quote. That’s not a smoking gun, but it’s nothing either. He had access to the building, and the floor from which the victim ultimately fell. By the defendant’s own admission, the victim had ruined his life, which speaks to motive. Evidence will show that the defendant committed this crime. Footage and testimony of his behavior beforehand will prove that he intended to commit the crime, which means it was premeditated...which means it was murder. I urge you to look carefully at this evidence, and decide for yourselves. Thank you.

Murder Case Judge: Thank you, Madam Prosecutor. Mr. Defendant’s Attorney?

Defendant’s Attorney: Thank you, Your Honor. Before I go into my prepared statements, I would like to address a few things that the prosecutor said. Prosecutor called this a simple case. I believe I know what she means by that, but I hope you don’t take it to mean that the decision should come easy to you. All you have to go on are the facts, and the facts do not support the prosecution’s case. They are the ones who are actually making it complicated. They have drawn conclusions that are not true, only because their presumptions are technically possible. Possible and plausible, however, do not equal reality. We in the business call this circumstantial. As the prosecutor stated, my client made some hate- and anger-filled comments against the victim. I will not try to tell you what he meant by them, what his intentions were, or how he feels about them now. That will be his job when he takes the witness stand. Prosecutor is right that these remarks, coupled with the victim’s ultimate death soon thereafter, are suspicious. Evidence will show, however, that he was not the only one to say such things about the victim. The victim, may he rest in peace, was not the most belovèd person in the city. That’s okay, I’m not disparaging his memory. I don’t have a lot of fans myself. This is more about the suspect pool, which was egregiously small. My client’s name was chosen by the prosecution, and dragged through the mud, simply because he was the loudest. But that would be like blaming your neighbor’s dog for knocking down your tool shed ‘cause you can’t see the wind. My client had means, motive, and opportunity, but so did many others, and the prosecution will not be able to prove beyond a reasonable doubt that my client is guilty. So... [Majority of opening statement cut for time.]

Microstory 1059: Walter

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Are you feeling okay, Alma? You look a little rattled. I hear you just did several interviews in a row, so if you need some time to process whatever it was those kids told you, I’m fine. My story isn’t going to hurt, I promise. My most profound experience with Viola was quite lovely, actually, though not necessarily all that conventional. About a year ago, we met for dinner and a movie, but halfway through the screening, she suddenly got up and left. I followed her out into the hallway, and asked her what was wrong. She said she had to go take care of something, but that we would reschedule. I didn’t know exactly what went wrong, or why it happened in the middle of the film, but I knew that meant she never wanted to see me again. I wasn’t surprised either, because I wasn’t exactly Prince Charming. She seemed to sense this doubt in me, so she told me to meet her at the laundromat the next morning at exactly 5:13, and we would spend the entire day together. Needless to say, I was excited about that. Don’t worry, my mind was not in the gutter; it wasn’t like that at all. I had heard so many stories of her helping people in really important ways, and I felt like this could be my turn. After all, she asked me out, which was good, because I was too nervous to do it myself back then, especially for someone as great as her. So I go to bed early, wake up, and head straight for the laundromat, where I find Viola stepping out at exactly 5:13. She’s wearing the same outfit as before, but I don’t say anything, because that would be rude. Somehow, it made reminded me that she was a real person, and maybe things didn’t always work out perfectly for her. This kind of helped me not feel so terrible about my own life. Anyway, she takes me by the arm, and walks me down the street, right into the back of a luxury vehicle. I try to ask the driver where we’re going, but the partition is raised, and I assume they can’t hear me. She takes me out to the original gold mines that gave this town its name. They’ve been shut down for years, and were reportedly unsafe, but she said that she would protect me, and I suddenly felt safe. She took me deep into the tunnels, where a secret rock concert was about to begin. It was the best day of my life, and after that, I wasn’t so nervous anymore. I’ve asked out tons of people since then, and I owe it all to Viola.

Microstory 689: Recognition of the Resurrection

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The new force of Faith could not have come at a more opportune time. A special subsection of the verifiers were tasked with determining whether the resurrected Sacred Savior was truly what he was purported to be. They have been working on this ever since he first returned. They held discussions—some private, some with audiences. They consulted with scientists and other experts. They referred back to the Book of Light, Sotiren Zahir’s personal memoirs, and other related literature, like the Book of Ivanka. They interviewed the resurrected one several times, and monitored how he behaved under uncontrolled conditions. Though they kept the details secret, they did recently reveal to the public that they were only marginally closer to an answer than they were when they first began. A few of today’s recent events started turning the tables on their progress, however. Firstly, we learned that the resurrected one traveled from a planet called Shalda, to a planet called Mubhir, during the darkness. The star that Shalda orbits was the first to be cleansed of the quantum darkness, and Mubhir’s was the last. Though we still have no real idea how it is that the darkness was abated, we take this as a divine signal that we should fully trust him. While the Ring of Law seems generally incapable of verifying taikon which have already been accepted as canon, it tested positive upon exposure to the resurrected. This seems like pretty conclusive evidence that we have not somehow been tricked by the Darkness, or some other opposing force. Furthermore, the special council of verifiers sort of laid out a tentative time limit for themselves, expecting to have an answer by this very day. It would seem like nothing could stop the resurrected from being officially recognized as the true Sacred Savior, but it was the Book of Marsali that really sold it to the verifiers, the Highlighters, the Lucidares, and common Lightseers across the galaxy. Marsali reminded us that faith is still faith, and that no amount of proof is strong enough to tear it down. Though the Book of Light warns us of trusting false idols, we must also remember the guidance of the Light of Truth. We must rely on the belief that it will protect us against evil. So this is what we have done. The verifiers released a statement today, confirming that the man we thought to be the Sacred Savior, Sotiren Zahir, was exactly what he appears to be: our hope.

Microstory 688: Force of Faith

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While the quantum darkness was a perilous and depressing time for Lightseers, we returned from it stronger than ever before. We saw an uptick in conversions, of course, as people now had definitive proof of the Light’s power. There were changes for preexisting Lightseers, though. After careful study, experts now strongly believe this to be a attributed to a nonmaterial, but measureable, force. As vague as it may sound, we call it the Force of Faith, and it is sort of a cousin of the Light of Truth. It cannot be seen, as the Light can, but it is just as divine. While the quantum darkness can permeate vast distances for insidious and malevolent purposes, the Force of Faith does so to strengthen belief. While probably nothing is capable of precluding crises of faith altogether, this new force is a mighty enemy against it; a ward, a wall, a shield. Scientists are still trying to understand and codify this new physical phenomenon, and are unsure why it has not been detected before. The obvious answer is that it did not exist before; that it was somehow created out of necessity, and is responsible for the salvation from the darkness that preceded it. The truth is that we still do not know, but that’s the point of faith, isn’t it? If we knew things to be true with undeniable evidence, then it wouldn’t be faith at all; it would just be a standard fact. Perhaps religion thrives in the face of adversity, and requires the opposition of those who do not believe in it. If everyone believed, no one would be special, and the Light wouldn’t matter so much anymore. Perhaps. Whatever the truth, we believe in this, never more staunchly than now.

Microstory 674: Forgiveness for Traitors

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Though it may break the hearts of true Lightseers, we understand how difficult it can be to hold onto faith. The purpose of the Light is not to provide answers...but to illuminate the path so you can find them yourself. For some, this can be a hard reality to accept. Life is not meant to be all laid out in front of you where you can do whatever you want, have conflicting objects of desire, and never work for anything. Life takes commitment, struggle, and sometimes even sacrifice. Realizing this can be the first step towards finding peace in one’s fortunes, which will allow you to move forward, and attain your dreams. But there’s also a dangerous possible outcome, one that can send even the most devoted into the darkness. We call this a crisis of faith, and if gone unchecked, it can result in a complete betrayal of one’s religious dedication. It’s okay to question your faith, and wonder whether what you believe is something worth believing, or at all true. This can lead to a dialogue between believers, which can strengthen everyone’s resolve. But at the end of the day, the Light is the truth, and its veracity does not rely on any one person believing in it. In fact, it doesn’t rely on anyone’s belief. We could all start thinking that all moons are made out cheese, but that doesn’t mean it will suddenly become the truth. The Sacred Light is all, and it shines upon everything, no matter what. Doubt in this, unfortunately, is capable of going too far, pushing the once-believer into betraying their faith altogether. When this happens, their loved ones will often try to pull them back into the Light, quite frequently to no avail. They have become traitors, and we feel a deep sense of sadness for them, not hatred. We pity their failure to live up to Lightseed ideals. Eventually, when all attempts have been exhausted, Lightseers closest to the traitors must turn their back on them as well. It does not go against our faith to intermingle with nonbelievers, but it is discouraged when it involves toxic ideas. Their darkness can overcome the faithful, and turn them against us all. It could potentially lead to a cascade effect, turning everyone within a population, one by one. Though we have lived this way for centuries, the taikon have foretold that the traitors must be forgiven, so that is what we have done. We have altered our practices. Lightseers are now encouraged to restart contact with their traitorous loved ones, not necessarily in an attempt to bring them back, but out of pure love. Afterall, that is what Lightseed really is about; the love and warmth of family.

Microstory 662: Replace Eido Tamsin

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Tamsin, a.k.a. Tamsin the Judge, a.k.a. the most famous doubter in history was the least popular of th eidos. She was also the only eido to die before the Sacred Savior. Sotiren Zahir spoke of her at her memorial service, and his eulogy was posthumously added to the one of the final chapters of the Book of Light. The following is what he said that shed some light on why he chose her to be an eido, and what made her so important.

Tamsin never wanted to be one of my eidos. She started out less of a follower, and more of a rival. Not everyone was okay with my thoughts on how Fostea should be organized, and Tamsin was part of a group who strongly opposed me. She was not sent in, strictly speaking, as a spy. She made no attempt to hide her true motivations. She was there to make sure I didn’t do anything crazy, like decide half the people who wanted to go to the new home galaxy weren’t worthy to live amongst us. I slowly convinced her that my intentions were pure, and that I only ever wanted the best for our people. I did this through reason and perseverance, not coercion or violence.  Fortunately, she never lost her instinct to be skeptical. She continued to question my choices, and instead of harming the process, she only strengthened it. Every time she found a mistake or issue with one of my suggestions, we were able to work on it together, and make it decent. You literally have no idea how terrible this place would be without her. Honestly, and you know that I don’t like to be so harsh, but you all owe her your lives. And so do I. She was the best of us, because she never let it be easy. Her job was to make us great...and damn did she deliver.

In the spirit of Tamsin’s original contribution to the cause, the replacement for her in modern times was chosen out of a group of people who rejected the Light. They did not simply reject the teachings of the Book of Light. They were born to it, but eventually grew up to make their own decisions, specifically the decision to go against the faith. Furthermore, this shortlist of people spoke out against the Light, but in a far more constructive way than any standard rival. Though we disagree with their sentiments, their objective is to make things better, rather than simply detract and spread hate. They are true Tamsins, and one of them would have to be chosen to fulfill this role more manifestly. His name is Sanctius Viktorov.