Microstory 2455: Flumendome

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If you don’t know what a flume is, it’s a waterslide. I mean, it’s a certain type of waterslide, but who am I to get bogged down in the intricacies of linguistics? Oh, that’s right, I’m a linguist. I suppose this rolls off the tongue better than Waterslidedome. Or Waterslidome. Well, hmm. Waterslidome. Yeah, it should be that, but pronounce it like slid. Whatever, it doesn’t matter what the name is, people! Waterslides is the name of the game. I don’t even know how many there are, because I did not read the prospectus. I saw that word, then saw the main picture, and I was hooked. I’ve loved waterslides ever since I was a kid. I remember going to the waterpark every summer, but just once per year. Oh, I would beg my parents to take us more than once, but they wouldn’t do it. It wasn’t about the money, it was about keeping it special, and learning delayed gratification. Parenting is a crapshoot; when I had kids, I learned that myself. I don’t fault them for their line of reasoning. I still wish I could have gone more, but we’re all immortal now, so yay, I have all the time in the universe! Back to Flumendome, this is the best park I’ve ever seen by far. Since it’s contained in this dome, its engineering limitations are a lot farther away from the ground than its Earthan equivalents. So are the slides themselves. The best one starts at the zenith, and goes all the way down to the surface. Again, I didn’t read the prospectus, so I don’t know how long it is, but I know it’s more than 41.5 kilometers. It could be double that, or more. I don’t have any friends so I shared a raft with some lovely, kind strangers. They calculated that it was probably close to 120 kilometers, which is insane to me. I grew up in the 2080s and ’90s; we didn’t have anything anywhere near this scale. It takes just an hour to get all the way down, and there is no escape. You’re moving too fast, and trying to fish you out of there would just be unsafe, for you, and anyone you’re with, or behind you. If you don’t think you can handle it, then absolutely don’t try. Fortunately, you can start small, with some regular waterslides, and work your way up. I told you, we’re immortal, baby, don’t be strict about your time. There is another that starts at the top, and goes all the way down, but it’s not as steep, and not as fast. It takes about four hours to get to the bottom, and if it’s a desperate emergency, a rescue drone can reportedly extract you, but only during lulls, so again, proceed with caution. I don’t think they’ve had to do it before, but I did hear about someone needing to get off this next one, which sounds like that wasn’t hard at all. The slide is the craziest one of all in some respects. It also starts way up there, but it’s even longer. We can’t even begin to estimate its length. It takes a full 24 hours to get down. They can extract you because you’re moving so slowly. It’s like being on a river, except if you climbed over the edge, you would fall off and die. Fortunately, that’s probably impossible, because the sides are so steep and wet, you’d have to be a tree frog, or something. And why would you? I’ve been talking a lot about extremes, but this place has a slide for everyone. Its prospectus is one of the most comprehensive (which is why I didn’t read it), but if you’re unsure, I suggest you take a look at it, and find what you’re looking for. It’s a lot of fun, for people of all ages.

Microstory 2420: Nordome Network

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Unlike most other themed domes, this is actually a series of domes. I believe the creator wanted to truly make it feel large in scope. While the distance between the “continents” isn’t anywhere near as large as they are on Earth, it still takes some time in those antiquated boats to travel between them. I even think you pass by other, unrelated domes on your way, though you would never know it if you stick to the right heading, because the holographic sky is sensational. It just looks like you’re outside. If you get lost, and sail in the wrong direction, you’re gonna hit the sides. They even have a sprinkler system to simulate rain during your journey, and the sea below you is saltwater, so you get that real oceanic experience. This isn’t the only dome network that works like this. It’s just the one that’s set during the Viking Age. You don’t have to be a Viking yourself—you can choose a simpler life, as a farmer, or a merchant—but you’re at risk of being attacked. You have to protect your settlement as they would have during the 8th, 9th, 10th, and 11th centuries. If you do choose to go on a journey, you have to build or commission your own ship. They aren’t just provided to you. Keep in mind that this is a lifestyle dome experience. You’re meant to stay here for years, and really live the way that these people historically lived. There are no rules, and no planned activities. There’s no anachronistic technology, and you can’t keep leaving and come back. If you have a serious need, they’ll let you go through an emergency exit, and once the issue is resolved, you can go back. So it’s not like a one and done sort of thing, but it’s also not a free-for-all. You can’t spend your days on the boat, then sleep in a nice comfy bed at night. There are no day trips, and they will enforce these rules. I never saw any sort of argument or disagreement, but they were clear. If you really want to get the full experience, it’s probably gonna take you about thirty years. But, I mean, come on, who doesn’t have that kind of time to spare these days? What are you worried about, that you’re gonna die soon? So take a break and learn something. Those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it, if you haven’t heard.

Microstory 2417: Racetrack Dome

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I’m gonna say this real slow. This is a racetrack dome, which means there are...racetracks. That’s all it is. It’s hundreds of racetracks just all over tarnation. A racetrack here, a racetrack there. There’s even a track that runs the entire circumference of the dome, which is something like 260 kilometers. That sounds boring to me, but hey, you do you, right? I would much rather stay close to the inner tracks. They’re so much more interesting. The vehicles are electric, obviously, but they’re also electromagnetic. This allows them to do all sorts of crazy stuff, like drive up the wall, or even do loop-de-loops. There are jumps and shortcuts, and drops into rivers of lava. Yeah, this particular dome was chosen for its proximity to a volcano. The volcano isn’t inside the dome, and if there were ever an eruption, there are safeguards in place to seal off the lava flow, and protect the dome. But as long as everything’s copacetic, it’s there. Plus, they have clear emergency procedures in place. I mean, this hasn’t actually happened since I’ve been here, so there’s no way to know how effective their plans are, but they claim to be ready. Of course, the lava they do have is dangerous, as are all of the other tracks. Well, almost all of them. They have bumper cars, and some go-kart tracks too, for the kids, or people who want something a little lighter. If you do get hurt, and don’t want to just jump your consciousness to a new body, they have excellent medical teams on standby. I was never injured, but I did walk in once to find someone having just crashed on one of the traditional intermediate tri-ovals. I heard the collision from the corridor, and by the time I rounded the corner, they were already loading the driver into an ambulance. I asked after him later, and he’s fine; didn’t even have to switch to a new body. I can’t even begin to describe what other kinds of tracks they have here, but if you’ve ever played a racing video game, they’re pretty much all recreated here. They don’t have boats, planes, or spaceships, though. Man, people kept asking about that. I’ll say again, it’s a racetrack dome, not races in general. Look for that in another dome. I’m sure they’re somewhere. I see all these negative reviews from morons who are disappointed when the name alone tells you everything you need to know. Just think it through, and you’ll be pleased with what you find.

Microstory 2407: Zombie Dome

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Zombies! Get your zombies here! We got fast zombies, slow zombies, zombies who are still a little bit intelligent, zombies who mindlessly continue on with the jobs that they supposedly had when they were still alive. You choose your environment, and you choose your level of difficulty, and then you just try to survive. They have some pretty crazy scenarios. I love zombies, so I’m biased, but I think you could have an entire planet just designated for this, and it would be great. Here’s what’s interesting about it, and the kind of unique thing about Castlebourne over all. They really lean into the fact that human bodies are completely expendable these days. They put a lot of work into building them for us. They have some fancy new technology that can grow a clone of you in a matter of minutes, I don’t understand it. Or you can choose your own creative avatar—like a bunny, or an iron giant—though that’s not really allowed in Zombie Dome. You’re supposed to be a human running from humanoid zombies. That’s the thing. But here’s a choice I never thought I would get to make. You can turn into a zombie in certain variations. When they bite you, if you don’t die, you continue as one of the undead. They’ll pump you full of drugs, and impair your brain processing. You’ll start walking around trying to bite other people. It’s a trip. I wanted to see what it was like, so I intentionally got bitten. Don’t worry, there are fail-safes in place. No matter how stunted your mind is, there’s always this part of you that is aware that none of this is real, and that you can break out of it if you need to. You can force your real consciousness back to the surface, and start being a normal person again. You’re dead, so you can’t keep playing like that, but you can make your way to an emergency exit, and quit playing. At that point, you can request a respawn into a normal body again, and start all over. I never felt unsafe in there even though that’s the point. It’s true, as I said, I love this stuff, so I kind of went into it really prepared. You might have a different level of preparation, but they’ll take care of you. They won’t let things go too far. Even when you’re still alive, you can put a stop to a zombie attack by uttering your safeword, which you will choose ahead of time. It can’t be too obvious, like, help, or no, stop! but I’ve seen it work. I had a bunch of buddies who were there specifically to test these systems. They chose different safewords at different times, and they always worked. We were there to test the boundaries, and make sure that the safeguards were sufficient, and never faltered. Highly recommended, but bear in mind this is not for everyone. It takes a certain kind of constitution, and most people should know whether it will be good for them or not, and again, if it’s not, you can just leave.

Microstory 2319: Vacuus, September 12, 2178

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Dear Condor,

It’s okay, I don’t mind about the extra message. And yes, I would love to send you photos. I have to limit them, though, and I would ask you to do the same. Excessive data costs money. Each resident is allotted one message per week (to send), which is perfect for the two of us, but only if they’re text only. Again, I don’t want to worry you, I can afford it. Message quotas are transferable, so I can probably snag one from someone else. The other younger people don’t know anyone on Earth, so they don’t use theirs at all, but I don’t want to do that too much. So basically, what I’m saying in the most roundabout way is that I’ll step back, and send you one photo of my quarters. You can send as many as you want. Received messages do have limitations, but it goes by the day, and it only counts if I open it, so I can just wait to view them one at a time. Unless it’s a video. Those are mad expensive, whether they’re opened or not. I’m not even sure we could manage to get a video message through between the two of us. The leaders restrict it pretty heavily. The compression alone takes a ton of energy. We can’t have solar power here, and the fusion reactor is, of course, dedicated primarily to life support and field research. Which reminds me, I never told you what I do for work, or asked you about you. That might sound like a non sequitur, but field researchers are the rock stars of the land. It’s a coveted position, but it’s also the most dangerous. Nearly all deaths are caused by field accidents. It even outweighs death from age-related disease. I never wanted to do anything like that, and not because it’s dangerous, but because of how arrogant and self-absorbed they all are. Gee, I hope no one here reads these messages before they go out. Anyway, I am only a solar flare monitor. You might be asking, “Corinthia, I thought you couldn’t even use solar power all the way out there.” EXACTLY! Sunlight has little effect on us at this distance, but energetic particles still do pose a risk. Even though you’re much closer, Earth is protected by a much stronger magnetosphere. If the sun decides to stretch its legs in our direction, it could have serious consequences for our equipment. Nothing’s ever happened since I’ve had the post, but it’s not an impossibility. The great thing about it is that I just sit here all day, and do whatever I want. The bad thing is that I’m the only one in the position, so I don’t get any time off. When it’s time for bed, I turn up the alert volume so it can wake me up. Again, though, it hasn’t ever happened, so it’s kind of a non-job, really. What about you?

Bored on Vacuus,

Corinthia

Microstory 2287: Didn’t See Anyone’s Face

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I’m sorry to depress you all yesterday. Kelly called my therapist for an emergency session, so I was able to talk through some of my issues. It’s been frustrating for me. I often don’t realize when I’m being grumpy, and even when I do, I don’t always know why. It was what those people did to me, taking my organs. It’s not just about that, though. They didn’t know that I would be rescued. They didn’t even bother to covertly drop me off at the nearest hospital, or send an anonymous tip. They just left me there on the table, assuming that I would die by the time anyone caught wind of my location. I don’t think they care that I was rescued, because they were all pretty much apprehended by then, and I didn’t see anyone’s face anyway. Which is weird, when you think about it. Why did they hide their identities from me if they didn’t think I would make it? Maybe I’m overthinking it. I mean, they did take my kidneys and liver because they thought I was immortal. Well, maybe they didn’t. Maybe they only took them because they knew that other people believed as much, and that was enough motivation for them. My therapist says that there are truths about this case that I will never know, and I’ll be doing more harm than good by running my own little investigation on the side. For the sake of my mental—and physical—health, I’m better off looking for ways to put it all behind me. We don’t know how I’m gonna do that, but it’s my first priority right now. I just have to remember that they can’t hurt me anymore, nor anyone else. And I’m not going to give up on my writing, even though I offered that suggestion last night. If I do that, then they win, and we can’t have that, can we? I have to toughen up, and hold firm.

Microstory 2225: All Sectors of All Fields

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Nick wrote the social media post that he just sent out. And I do mean that. He was able to stay in control of his arm movements enough to type it out on the computer, and even click the submit button. I’m so proud of him. He tried to write this one up himself too, but it proved to be too difficult, and we’re low on time. We ended up staying in the hospital far longer than we wanted, and I’m not a happy mama bird. I told them that we had a maximum time of five hours, and the researchers who are studying his condition did not adhere to that. I mean, it’s not like they locked him up in the lab, chained him to the table, and started poking him with needles while they laughed maniacally. They just kept wanting to conduct more tests, and asking him questions. There was always just one more thing to try. There was also a lot of hurrying up and waiting. This happens because people will typically not take that into account when estimating the amount of time they need to finish working on something. This is true for most people in all sectors of all fields. Anyway, I don’t want to complain too much, but I am going to seek legal counsel for Nick. We need to get the agreement in writing, so this sort of thing doesn’t happen again. Until then, he’s not going back to that facility unless it’s a medical emergency, or some other issue that I can’t handle myself. I’m sure we’ll get it all worked out. I know that no one made this happen on purpose. But he’s very tired right now, and I have to get his dinner prepared so he can get some rest. Until next week!

Microstory 2105: Maybe I Should Leave

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It’s been one of those days. I told you in the last post how the scheduling works at my new job. When they first explained it to me, my first question was the obvious one, which is what happens when two people have to be gone at the same time? The answer was that this never happens, so they didn’t have a protocol for that. But of course, this being my life, it happened immediately. I’m not even finished with my training, but we’re already down to three people. One of the other janitors had a family emergency, which necessitated him driving halfway across the country at a moment’s notice. He reportedly didn’t even have time to pack anything. The old man, meanwhile, has fallen ill. He’s awake and alert, but he’s in no condition to be moving around, and doing this kind of work. The bosses are actually making him stay in a special room for treatment. I guess this place has its own little health clinic? They didn’t tell me anything about it, so I don’t think it’s for just anyone to use when they need it. So now it’s just me and the girls. Their initial plan when this happened was to have one of us take a double shift, and maybe someone else takes it the next day? That’s too much math. The reason four of us work on one day is because 24 divided by 6 equals 4. But 24 can also be divided into 8, and that makes 3. To cover the time, we’re each just going to take longer shifts, but we each get a 30 minute lunch break now. This is the way things often work in other universes, and even in other places on this world, so it’s not like I’m reinventing the wheel here.

I’m glad that they’ve taken my advice, because I feel super responsible for all of this. It may sound ridiculous, but hear me out. I’m starting to really worry that I’m the cause of all these issues. Things have been changing since I showed up on the scene, everyone thinks so, even if they’re not making the connection to me. Issues are arising that were not a problem before. It’s not always obvious, like when I first came to this world, and kept getting sick. Someone went missing after I started working at the nursery, and now this? I know, it sounds self-aggrandizing to think that everything is all about me, but come on. I understand that I felt like this before, and there actually weren’t any other missing people, but I’m not making everything up. I dunno. Maybe I should leave this town, and move to another to see if something weird happens there too. Of course, I can’t just run off right away. These people are counting on me. We have to find at least one more person to fill out the roster, and maybe another person after that, and if I go, then they’ll have to look for a third. I’m in such an awkward position. I better get some sleep, and see if I come up with any better ideas in the morning. The people who set me up with my new life are asking me to work for them too, which complicates things even further. I have a feeling that my situation is about to get a lot more difficult.

Microstory 2089: To Break Me Out

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I made a mistake. I left a hard copy of my map, and other pertinent information regarding the mysterious slew of missing persons, in my attic room at my landlord’s house. She found it, and called the cops on me. They say that I’m a danger to myself, and possibly to others. I was able to stop today’s disappearance by destroying the Westfall portal, but I don’t know what I’m going to do tomorrow if I can’t get myself the hell out of here. They’ve locked me in this all white room. It’s not padded, but we all know that they think I’m mentally unstable. Fortunately, they never found my emergency social box in my special underpocket. It’s a USB stick-sized computer with a small screen that only works through voice transcription. It takes a really long time to make sure that neither I nor the device has made any mistakes. It has two buttons. One opens up transcription, while the other accepts other commands, like punctuation, and moving the cursor. A wheel on the side scrolls through the text and menu items for file management. Forgive me if I ended up missing something. I bought this at the internet cafe a long time ago. Posting here is a secondary function of the device, but it was mostly invented for protection. If you’re mugged, and they take your regular phone, this will allow you to make a call, or send a text message without all the proverbial bells and whistles. I don’t need to send a message to anyone, though, because everyone I thought I could trust has turned against me. I just need to get my story out, and maybe one of my readers can do something about this total misunderstanding. I’m not crazy. I really am from another universe, and I really do need to stop others from accidentally being spirited away from it. Please, you have to break me out. I’ll do anything; pay anything, even if I have to do it in installments. I don’t belong in this room!

Microstory 2075: Her Last Period

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Guys, it was a rough day today. It was even harder than yesterday, but it’s no one’s fault. My boss had a family emergency, and had to leave in the middle of the day. On top of that, the other two people who were meant to work the first shift didn’t show up. One of them was sick, so she called in yesterday evening, which we expected to be fine, because even though I’m the newbie, I’m still an extra hand to keep the ship afloat. The other guy just straight up never came in, and we don’t know why. My boss asked me to keep calling him, but he never picked up. She was worried about him, of course, but she also wasn’t super surprised by his absence, so I think he’s just not all that reliable. I also called everyone else who worked there, which isn’t very many people, but none of them could come except for one girl. She’s still in high school, so she couldn’t be there until after her last period. Well, I actually think she skipped it for me. There was a good four hours where I was the only worker in the whole nursery. Fortunately, for a couple of those hours, one of the regular customers helped me out. She didn’t know how the cash register worked, or any of that behind-the-scenes stuff, but she’s an expert in plants and flowers, so she assisted customers for me, which was absolutely amazing. Such a crazy second day. Not boring at all, I’ll tell you that much. As you can imagine, I’m pretty wiped tonight, so I’m going to sign off now, and get back to you on Monday. I suspect that my next post will be pretty long, since I’ll have to recap four days, including this wild one.

Microstory 1997: Wild Beasts

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SI Eliot: *sits down across from Reese*

Reese: I thought we agreed to stay on opposite sides of the jet, and never speak to each other again for the rest of our lives.

SI Eliot: Yeah, but I’ve been thinking about what happened at the meeting, though, and I think we should touch base about it.

Reese: Calling that a meeting would be like calling a stampede of wildebeests a casual jog with a few friends. That was one of the most horrifically uncomfortable experiences of my life, and I just wanna forget it ever happened.

SI Eliot: Lower your voice. There could be listening devices on this thing.

Reese: That would just be like Commander Virtue. You’re right, but I don’t care. Let the plane go down. At least that would leave me in peace. I’m still drunk, and now hungover.

SI Eliot: Ha-ha, he’s joking. Commander Virtue is an honorable man, and we are lucky that he lent us one of his aircraft for the trip home.

Reese: *sighs, then takes a device out of his bag* I swept for bugs while you were in the lavatory. You think this is my first time on an unsecured mode of transportation? Please.

SI Eliot: You see, I knew there was a reason you were promoted over me.

Reese: Are you still on that?

SI Eliot: No, I’m... I meant that sincerely. I was bitter before, but I’m over it. Besides, I’m not exactly envious of all the meetings you’re gonna have to have with that man now that you’re a director.

Reese: Oh my God! I wasn’t even thinking about that. I was just relieved to be out of there, I forgot that it’s still not over. It will never be over, will it?

SI Eliot: Not until the next administration.

Reese: When will that be?

SI Eliot: Three years, if he doesn’t secure reëlection, of course.

Reese: Of course. Gah! Hold on. Deputy Director.

SI Eliot: You mean Celandine Robles?

Reese: No. The deputy often accompanies directors on meetings and conference calls. If I made you my deputy instead, you could help me deal with him.

SI Eliot: Oh, no. Have you heard Director Washington complain about him? She hates him too, but she’s never described that kind of craziness before. He’s different around men. He thinks he can be himself, and that we’ll understand. The way I see it, Deputy Robles is your best option on that front, along with all the other fronts.

Reese: That was a test. I needed to know if you were still gunning for my job, and just decided to be nice and underhanded about it.

SI Eliot: If anything, it’s gotten me to seriously consider switching to the private sector.

Reese: Really? You would do that? You’re such a...patriot.

SI Eliot: Well, I don’t mean to toot my own horn, but I’ve gotten an offer or too.

Reese: Well, congratulations. Hey, wait, that’s the St. Louis Arch. It’s gigantic.

SI Eliot: What? We shouldn’t be able to see that. Reese, I think we’re landing.

Captain: *through the intercom* Folks, you may have noticed we’re a little off route. No need to worry. We just have to make an emergency landing. I’ll update again soon.

The Advancement of Mateo Matic: March 17, 2399

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Leona has finally come back to the Superscraper after spending days at Homes for Humankind, working on something big. She even made a short trip to Haiti without even telling Mateo about it. She hasn’t given any details regarding their plans, but Mateo has briefed her on what he and the volunteers discovered as they were exploring the sublevels. She wanted to see it for herself, of course. She is particularly interested in the fusion reactor on the very lowest level. She stares for a few minutes, not vocalizing her thoughts. Then she walks over to it, and starts opening panels and hatches. She presses a few buttons, and flips some switches too. When she’s satisfied, she brushes the dust off her hands, and walks back over. “It is more interesting than you thought.”

“Why’s that?”

She points. “See that over there, that collection of tubes?”

“Yeah. Kind of looks like an organ.”

“It’s part of a cooling system.”

“Sounds reasonable to me. Fire hot. Fire burn,” he says like a caveman.

She smirks knowingly. “Let’s go back upstairs. I need to test something.”

They take the elevator up. Leona stops on the main floor, and opens the door to a maintenance closet. She looks around a little bit before finding what she’s looking for, which is apparently a large metal pipe. She smacks it against her other hand to test its strength, then they get back into the elevator to go up a few more floors. She doesn’t say a word this entire time. Mateo doesn’t think she’s going to hurt anyone with it, but he’s very confused, and a little nervous. She usually likes to explain herself along the way.

They get out on the fourth floor, and walk into a random unit. It’s not being used by any of the people they took in. Still silent, Leona pulls the pipe into a backswing, and sends it straight into the window as hard as she can. It’s not too hard, because she never played baseball, or works out, but it should have done at least a little damage. There is not a mark on it. Also silent, Mateo reaches out. She hands him the pipe, and he takes his own shot. Nothing. Impenetrable. “What does this tell us?” he asks.

She takes back the pipe, and hits the glass again, like a pickaxe this time, and not with all of her might. She feels the seams with her fingers, and looks closely at them. “Does this kind of window remind you of anything? Like, when you think back to the times you’ve encountered one that appears to be indestructible, were you in an office building, or were you...in something else?”

Puzzled, Mateo winces, and tries to think. “I mean, they’ve always been like that when I’ve been on ships?” He shakes his head tightly, and widens his eyes. He looks around at the room that they’re in, and slides his palm on the walls. “This is a ship?”

“I think so. In fact, I think that it’s just a giant evacuation vessel. They built them to replace the original arcologies in the main sequence during Project Airtight, but we never saw them. The whole planet could be evacuated in a matter of hours, if need be.”

“Leona, one of our new friends did the math. If some lived up top, and some below, a million people could fit. How many would you need to save literally everyone?”

“At a million per ship, that’s about eight thousand, just like this one.”

Mateo gazes out the window. “Is that possible? Do you think more exist?”

She sighs and watches the sun set upon the city. “That...would be crazy.”

The Advancement of Mateo Matic: March 16, 2399

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The building has been inspected, at least with a cursory glance. They didn’t hire a professional to go through the entire thing, and check or mold, or whatever it is they do. All the doors are open now, though, which will allow drones to go through, should Leona deem there to be some need for that. While she’s been dealing with other things, Mateo has been in charge of helping the volunteers check the rooms, and now it’s time to go in the opposite direction. A building this tall has to have a deep foundation, and there should be space down there too. It may not be furnished, or even clean, but there will be potential in it. The elevator turns out to be large enough for all of the now two dozen volunteers, so he invites everyone to join, including the kids. It’ll be a little adventure.

When the doors open, they find themselves in a wide expanse, which may cover the entirety of the building in the first two dimensions. There is nothing here but support columns. It’s made of concrete, but really clean and unused. Maybe this is meant to be used for offices. Underground, though? That seems unnecessarily cruel, especially since there should be plenty of space in the common areas on the bottom floors above the surface. “Come on,” Mateo says. “There’s nothing to see here. Let’s keep going down.”

They go down one story. This one is just as expansive, but it looks different. It’s filled with stuff. As they step onto the floor, and spread out, they find compartments that mirror the kind of rooms up above. Each room is equipped with four bunk beds, and is separated from its neighbors by only half walls. Metal bars come up and go across, suggesting that a modest amount of privacy can be created from curtains. There are rows and rows and rows of these bunks. “What are they for?” a teenager asks.

“Emergency shelter, in case of a tornado?” someone else suggests.

“Look at this sign,” one of them says. “ROOM CAPACITY: 34,768.”

“Okay,” Mateo says, stepping back towards the elevator. “Let’s try one more.”

They get back in, and go down one more story. It’s the same, doubling their current known underground capacity. Mateo looks over at the buttons. There are twelve stories total, numbered zero through negative eleven. “Who here is good at math?” he asks the group.

A girl snakes her way forward.

“Assuming that every floor is just like this one, subtracting that first one that was empty, how many people can fit in the shelter?”

She takes a moment to perform the calculations. “It would fit 382,448 people.”

Mateo shakes his head. I was kind of worried about that. “That’s not much more than half of the population that can fit above. That doesn’t sound like a great shelter.”

“Well, we don’t know what we’re looking at here,” a man pointed out. “The other floors could be bigger, or maybe they can’t make an elevator this big that goes down as many floors as there are, and we’re expected to get off, and get on another one.”

They keep riding the elevator down, stepping out for a moment just to check that it’s equipped with all the same stuff. Floor Negative-10 is different. It’s just a giant open area, like the first sublevel. There’s only one more to check now, and while this is all rather exciting, they don’t expect anything different. They would all be wrong. “I recognize this,” Mateo says. “This is a fusion reactor...a big one.”

The Advancement of Mateo Matic: December 12, 2398

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Mateo is up to his old tricks, though with a new twist. Every twenty-four hours, he and Danica are spirited away from their current position, and returned to a version of the time machine in the Constant. Instead of jumping a year into the future, though, they end up in a different parallel reality. They believe they have made their final jump now. They first went to the Fourth Quadrant, then the Parallel, then the main sequence, and finally the Fifth Division. There are only five of them total, so this ought to be the Third Rail again. Right? It has to be.

They leave the room, and head down the dimly lit passageways for Danica’s office. She tries to summon Constance, but she never replies. She tries to speak to whatever personality the AI in charge of this version may be, but no one else responds either. Either they’re in the right place, and there’s something wrong with the systems, or it’s a reality they were not previously aware of. “There’s one way to find out,” Danica says as they’re entering the office. “Help me move this.” She sticks her fingers underneath the edge of the back table.

Together, they carry it away to reveal nothing but an empty floor, and a papered wall. “Odd choice, I must say.”

She rolls her eyes, and peels most of the wallpaper away. Behind it, written on the wall in permanent marker, is a long-ass series of numbers and letters. “Yeah, that’s right. We should be home. So where is everyone?”

“This is some kind of code?” Mateo asks, mildly kicking the wall.

Danica starts to point at each number to explain them. H for heads on a coin, eleven for the outcome of a roll of two dice, six for the roll of one die alone, Queen of Hearts.” She takes a half step to finish. “I pulled six numbers for the lottery, five balls for bingo, and this...” She rips the rest of the wallpaper off to reveal a photograph of a lava lamp. “This is what that lamp over there looked like from my chair once I was done with all the other randomizations.”

Mateo nods. “So all of these variables are correct? This is indeed your version of the Constant?”

“It must be,” Danica decides. “The chances that every single outcome is the same in any other reality, especially when accounting for the lava lamp, are profoundly low. I’m not just talking about parallel realities, but other timelines.”

“Got it. So where is everybody?”

She regards him with distrust for a moment, having a debate in her own head, no doubt. Then she nods, and concedes. “Okay, follow me.” She leads him to a secret section of the facility, where they end up in a stasis chamber. This must be where she and the people she actually cares about were staying. It’s empty, as are the individual pods.

“There was always room for me in here with you,” Mateo notes.

She frowns. “You were never supposed to be here.”

He clears his throat. “Does the Omega Gyroscope prevent time travel?”

“Yes, that’s how I wanted it. That’s how we wanted it,” she corrects herself.

“Does it prevent time travel,” Mateo repeats, “or does it prevent altering the timeline?”

She looks away, clearly starting to see his point, but she doesn’t want to admit it.

He continues, “as long as that thing was working, I was always destined to travel back in time, and meet up with you. Your insistence that I’m not worthy of your time because of my intrusion is bullshit. You just don’t like me.”

“That’s not true, I don’t know you. No version of me knows any version of you very well. We’re salmon, the powers that be designed it that way.”

“The powers that be don’t have any jurisdiction in this reality, or over me anymore anywhere.”

“I know,” Danica acknowledges.

He sighs. “Can you get a time and date from one of these things?”

Danica taps on the screen a few times. “It’s dead.” She looks around. “Everything is dead. This is emergency lighting.”

“We seem to have life support.”

Danica looks towards the door, and thinks. “Or we don’t need it anymore.”

They jog down the hallways, and up to the main area for more information. They stop when they see the elevator shaft, which is no longer a shaft. Well, it still may be a shaft, but the wall behind it is gone. It leads to a short hallway, and a set of doors. “Has that always been there?” Mateo asks.

“Definitely not. This has been remodeled.”

They shrug at each other, and exit the building together, opening the double doors in sync. They have to blink when sunlight flies down to attack their eyes. They can obviously tell immediately that they’re in a breathable atmosphere. It’s the future. When they regain their site, they find themselves on a concrete trail, surrounded by lush vegetation, under a blue sky. A waterfall splashes pleasantly into the river or lake below. They’re not alone. Others are enjoying the day, casually strolling around the valley. Mateo notices an interesting symbol on a fencepost sign. It’s five keys in a 3D circle, with a sixth key in the center, larger and more prominent than the others. Danica spins around, and pushes the vines out of her way to try to open the doors again. “Locked.”

“That’s okay, I think I can teleport here, which implies that your precious gyroscope doesn’t last forever.”

“Well, prove it,” Danica suggests.

“There are too many people around,” he says. “We don’t know what they know.”

“It’s okay,” a familiar voice begins. “If you need to teleport somewhere, no one around will mind.” It’s Cheyenne. She’s smiling at them like a local before a couple of tourists. “As long as you take care not to disrupt the plants.”

“I’m sorry, have we met?” Mateo asks her.

“No, I don’t believe so. I have a pretty good memory.”

He nods. “Could you—and this may sound odd—tell us what year it is?”

“It’s December 12, 2398, according to the new Clavical Calendar.”

“Never heard of it,” Mateo says. “But it’s nice to meet you.” He offers his hand, which Cheyenne shakes. This seems to be when and where she’s from.”

“Even if you’ve spent your whole life on this world,” Cheyenne continues. “Surely you would have heard of the Clavical Calendar.”

“Why do you say that?” Danica asks. “What’s so special about this world?”

“It’s close to a black hole,” Cheyenne explains as she’s still shaking Danica’s hand. “A minute here is equal to about an hour out there.”

They disappear. They all disappear.

The Advancement of Mateo Matic: November 22, 2398

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Marie called it in, and confirmed her suspicions. A spy satellite feed showed that a small speedboat-like watercraft was moving at top speed from the shores of Panama, while a fleet of larger ships were in pursuit. They could have overcome it at pretty much any time. There must be a reason that they want to maintain distance. The most likely explanation is that there is something dangerous on board, like a bomb, or a deadly chemical. Leona and Marie don’t want to teleport there if they don’t have to. According to Ramses’ research, their ability to metabolize the Bermuda Triangle water is diminishing. If they keep using it to reactivate their powers, it eventually won’t work anymore. Theoretically, they can’t overdose on the stuff, but also theoretically, they can. It’s here in case of an emergency, though, if the pursuing ships change tactics, or if either party reacts to their arrival. To be safe, by the time they make their interception, the SD6 team will put on their hazmat suits, just in case that’s what the problem is.

It took the team a long time, but they’re here now. They have the boats in their sights, and nothing has changed from the last satellite view that they saw. The pursuing ships are still 900 meters from the speedboat. It’s been on the water for so long, it has to be running out of power. It was going all night, so it had to rely on its battery reserves, and those things are not designed for overnight trips. The driver is running out of power, and it will probably happen soon. When it does, that could be enough to cause the ships to make bolder moves. The team has to get to it now, and figure this out. They don’t know if they’re target is good or bad, dangerous or harmless, so they’re not going to take any chances. Leona and Marie have their immortality water boosters inside their hazmat suits, ready to take the other three members of the team with them, plus the target, if necessary. Then again, they’re still not close enough to know if there even is only one person on the vessel. It’s the only one they can track using Ramses’ scanner, but that doesn’t mean that person is alone.

Once the team breaks the 900-meter radius, that’s when the ships start to change direction. They all move at the same time. “Oh, no,” Leona laments. “They’re coming in to attack us. Get your auto-injector ready.”

“No,” Marie says with a shake of her head. “That’s not what they’re doing. They’re leaving.” She’s right. They’re not getting into attack formation. They’re turning. It’s going to take them a long time at their sizes, going at their speeds, but they’re definitely turning away. From what, them? That is even weirder. What are they so afraid of? Why did they spend all this time and effort going after this little boat, only to bail when a three crew-sized tactical amphibious vessel shows up? Surely they have their own satellites, and would have seen them coming from literally miles away.

They’re not going to spend too much time dwelling on it. They get closer to the speedboat, which is being maneuvered into parallel position. Once they’re tied together, the hatch from the cabin opens. Bhulan Cargill climbs out of it, except it’s not Bhulan. It’s Mateo’s once-sister, Aquila in Bhulan’s body. “Why are you wearing those things?”

“We didn’t know what to expect,” Leona says. “This whole mission has been bizarre. Why were they coming after you, and why are they giving up now?”

Aquila looks back at the fleet. “Oh, they weren’t coming after me. Those are my escort ships. They were making sure no one attacked. We need to talk...about Mateo.”

The Advancement of Mateo Matic: November 2, 2398

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Leona wakes up in a hospital bed. Her husband’s is the first face she sees. The nurse’s is the next. She tries to speak, but it doesn’t feel like her voice is coming out. The nurse hands Mateo a cup of water so he can hold it under Leona’s chin, and help her sip. Quenched, she can utter the only pertinent word right now. “Report.”

“There was an explosion,” Mateo begins to explain as the nurse is leaving to get the doctor. “They don’t know who, and if they know how, they’ve not released this information to the public. The investigation is going slow. The fact that the crime took place in a crime hole is causing some jurisdictional issues. Normally, an internal investigative team would be expected to handle this on their own, but when neighboring areas are at risk, external forces are willing to come in, which they have to, because—”

“Because I drained the swamp of nearly all staff, and absolutely all security,” Leona recalls. “I don’t regret it.”

“This being the case, police would usually try to get consent from the owner of the crime hole to step in, but since you were incapacitated...”

“They have it,” Leona says. “Anyone with the authority to investigate crime has my consent and support to do what they must.”

“I’ll text Winona,” Mateo says, taking out his device.

Once he’s done with that, Leona says, “go on.”

“Cheyenne and Marie were hurt; Cheyenne the least. She was conscious, and able to inform the rescuers that only the three of you were in the building at the time. Is that a fair assessment?”

“As far as we knew, yes. We kept a few staff to help with the transition, but we asked them not to come in today—”

“It’s the second of November,” Mateo interrupts.

“We asked them not to come in on that day,” Leona amends. “We wanted to walk the space, and envision the changes. Is it destroyed? Is the whole thing gone?”

“It is, yes. It was a massive explosion.”

“That’s a silver lining. We were just discussing how we would prefer to knock it down, and rebuild from scratch...assuming we haven’t lost ownership over it.”

“No one has said as much. I don’t know how it works.”

The doctor comes in and performs a basic examination on Leona. She has multiple bruises, a head laceration, and both of her legs are broken. She cracks a joke about this being a blessing since she didn’t have to cut them off, like last time. He doesn’t think it’s funny, but if he knew that she wasn’t lying... She’s going to make a full recovery, but the healing process is going to take some time. She will be confined to a wheelchair for the next three months at least, maybe even longer. She would be able to transition to crutches sooner, but there’s little point in trying that when both legs need time to heal. Leona is taking it surprisingly well. Again, if he only knew the kinds of things she has gone through, he would understand that this is not life-shattering news. It sucks, but if all else fails, she should eventually be able to just transfer her consciousness to a new body.

Shortly after the doctor leaves to let Leona get some rest, there is a knock on the door. Mateo answers to find Kivi on the other side. She steps into the room quietly, and looks around cautiously. She opens the door to the bathroom, like she’s expecting another person to be here. Then she settles her gaze back on Leona, and finally exhales.

“Are you looking for another bomb?” Leona asks.

“No, I was looking for the people who did it,” Kivi replies.

“What made you believe that they were in here? You don’t think that one of us did it, do you?”

“Of course not!” Kivi says. “I think I’ve overestimated how much control I’ve developed over my psychic abilities. I want to catch the people who did this to you, but my heart just wanted to make sure my friend was okay.”

“That’s sweet,” Leona says. “Thank you.”

“I better get back to the team.” Kivi lifts her watch up, and speaks into it, “code orange. Stand down.”

“Code orange?” Mateo asks.

“Like a detour sign?” Kivi explains. “These are not the droids we’re looking for.”

“Why do you know pop culture references from the wrong reality?” Leona questions.

“I dunno.” Kivi starts to back out of the room casually. “Why is a tree good? Why is the sunset good? Why are boobs good?”

Leona narrows her eyes at her. “I love you.”

“Love you too!” Kivi calls back just as she’s stepping out of view.

Leona manages to get a little bit of sleep before Ramses abruptly invites himself into the room. “She’s asleep,” Mateo tries to whisper, but it’s too late.

“I’m up.”

“Good.” Also without asking, Ramses lifts the bedsheets, and slides Leona’s hospital gown up to get a look at her legs.

“Oh good, you’ve graduated from medical school at last,” Leona jokes.

“I just need a quick look.” Ramses feels Leona’s upper thighs, and sticks his fingers down her casts.

“And a feel.”

“Sorry.”

“No, it’s your body; you built it for me.”

Ramses rolls his eyes. Then he takes out his version of a Star Trek tricorder, and scans her legs. “Yeah, I think this will work, but I can’t promise.”

“What will work?” Mateo asks, growing impatient.

“Did anyone tell you that we’re planning to raise the Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez from the bottom of the ocean?” Ramses asks them as he’s checking Leona’s lymph nodes for an as of yet unknown reason.

“Yeah, what does this have to do with my wife’s medical condition?”

“Do you remember what happened to you when you teleported yourself into orbit? Did you die up there?”

Leona realizes what Ramses is thinking. “Oh. You think if I break the planet’s atmosphere, I’ll regain my transhumanistic upgrades, and reactivate my healing nanites, which will repair my legs.”

“That’s the idea,” Ramses confirms.

“Is that even a thing?” Mateo asks.

“Only one way to find out.” Ramses and Leona high five each other.

The Advancement of Mateo Matic: November 1, 2398

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Kivi drops her bag on the bench, and opens her locker. She starts to undress. Paula Strand walks in to start doing the same, and gives her a bit of the stink eye. There is a hierarchy within the ranks of a tactical team. When Paula first started, she was at the bottom, and when her direct superior was promoted to the position of Lieutenant, she too moved up to become the Engineer. But even though Kivi is the new guy around here, she now ranks higher, because she officially entered the team as the Spotter. Hurst actually took a demotion when he decided to replace Paula as Technician, but he doesn’t seem to have any problem with that. It’s a special skill set, so it all works differently than what you might find in a military setting, where a rank determines one’s leadership level and pay grade, with specializations being a separate category. Here it’s arbitrary, really, that a Spotter ranks higher than an Engineer. Paula is taking it personally.

“So, you’re back. How long will you be gracing us with your presence this time?”

“I’m here indefinitely,” Kivi answers.

Paula scoffs. “I’ll believe it when I see it.”

“I’m sure you’ll retire before me, so you won’t be seeing it.”

Paula scowls now. “If we’re still working on the same team as my retirement approaches, promise to shoot me in the head.”

“That’s not my job. All I would be able to do is help Corolla shoot you.”

Paula tries to hold back her laughter, but she can’t help it. She knows that Kivi didn’t join the team to throw her weight around. Beyond the Leader and Lieutenant, no one generally gives commands. It really only happens in an emergency situation, when the two leaders aren’t around, and somebody has to make a decision. It makes it easier and safer to always know who that person will be without any argument. Paula needs to learn how to be an engineer, and Kivi needs to learn how to spot.

“Look, this is all new to me, but I’m committed now. I don’t wanna be anywhere but here. There’s some bad people out there, and some missing people too, and I think our new directive can do some real good in this world. Don’t you agree?”

Paula sighs. “I do. It is nice to know that we have a clear goal in mind. One of the most frustrating things about being on a tack team is you never know why you’re being sent off on missions. Now we know what we’re trying to accomplish, and I hope you know that I do appreciate that you bring that to our table in a way that no one else can.”

Kivi tugs on her shirt, and slams her locker shut. “I appreciate you saying that,” she says with a smile. She turns to head for the stall before the morning briefing, but that smile turns quickly into a frown. She’s struggling with this whole thing—not the decision—but the baggage, and the lack of honesty, she comes into every government room with. This seems right. This feels right. This must be where she belongs. But when she was born a few months ago, this job would not have been on her list of future pursuits, so it feels strange at the same time. She may be experiencing impostor syndrome. Her apparent psychic abilities give her the edge that she will need to be a great Spotter, but her lack of true experience—in anything—might sow doubt in her heart every day, and that could become debilitating.

Tactician Hartwin Seegers comes into the locker room, a hand over his eyes. “The briefing is starting early. There’s been an attack. This is an all-hands-on-deck situation.”

The Advancement of Mateo Matic: October 31, 2398

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They’re moving. They’re moving out of the lofts, and not just for their residential needs, but also for Ramses and Leona’s lab. This building was built to last, but it doesn’t belong to them anymore. They’re giving the whole thing to the new owners of Angela’s company to do with it what they will. Maybe they’ll expand, or rent out the upper floors. Or perhaps they’ll demolish the whole thing and replace it with a mini waterpark. Whatever they choose, it will have nothing to do with Team Matic. They should have known that something like this was going to happen. Their whole thing is an ephemeral, nomadic lifestyle. They don’t stay anywhere for too long. Best to not get attached.

A moving company is allowed to handle some of the generic equipment, like tables and beakers. The sensitive materials, however, must be done in house. Ramses is here today, directing Mateo and Alyssa on this task. They’re not in any sort of rush, though. The government-run lab where this will all be moving to is not quite ready for them. Well, the space itself is reportedly totally ready. Winona claims that they keep such future-use places primed in the event of an pandemic, or some other emergency need. That’s what’s holding up the opening process. They have to secure approval from about seven different departments to use one of them, because another emergency venue will have to be developed to replace it.

Mateo holds up a computer monitor stand. “This?”

“Green box, storage” Ramses responds.

“And this?”

“Also green box.”

“Should we really be trusting these people?” Alyssa questions. “I mean, consider everything that you did to make sure this place was yours, and not even the agency that gave it to you had access to it. All these lava lamps and security cameras. Now you’re just going to work in a place built by them, for them?”

“Yeah, I can see how strange that seems,” Ramses admits. “Past!Me probably wouldn’t understand, but things have changed. Our relationship with the government has changed.” They have already given them tons of data and technology so far that they never would have dreamed to do for any government in the main sequence. Trying to keep whatever’s left a secret seems futile at this point. A better facility is more important. “I would rather have unfettered access to an advanced mass spectrometer, and an MRI machine, than my own place. It’s time to grow the operation. I have a lot of things I want to do, and this new place gets me all that. Plus, I think it makes them happy, and we need to keep them on our side.”

Alyssa rubs a lava lamp like a genie might come out of it. “But I love these. I’ve grown accustomed to staring at them during my parking lot surveillance shifts.”

“Blue box,” Ramses says. “We’re taking them with us, not just for storage.”

“You will have some privacy, though, won’t you?” Mateo asks.

“Yes, that is the very first project on my list. They may think they’ll have free and full access to my work, but with the right resources, I can protect anything that we feel they don’t need to know about.”

“What resources will you need for that, and how will you be accomplishing it?”

“I need a submarine. We’re retrieving the AOC from the bottom of the ocean.”