The Advancement of Mateo Matic: August 9, 2522

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Mateo and Angela stood before three of the launch pads. Two claimant shuttles had already arrived, and the last one was landing now. No one had exited yet, per the Vitalemusian instructions. A few minutes after all shuttles were down, the hatches opened at about the same time. Korali, Bronach, and Old!Oaksent began to walk down their respective ramps. They were each accompanied by six others. Also per instructions, they were allowed to bring one lieutenant, one assistant, and four personal bodyguards. They were also allowed to leave one or two pilots in their vehicles, to be protected by no more than two security officers. They took full advantage of their limitations, which suggested that they would have rather had even more people backing them up. That told them something about how this was probably gonna go.

As the claimants approached, medical professionals first handed them their breathing apparatuses, which only Korali refused. “Team Matic,” Bronach said to them. “You’re looking...partial.”

Korali looked around. “Where are the other parties?” Her voice sounded normal, and it didn’t seem like she was having an issue pulling in oxygen. She must also have an enhanced substrate of some kind. Interesting that the two Oaksents apparently did not, despite being nigh impossible to kill.

“The Anatol Klugman and the Revolumusians are landing in a different dome, next to the Vellani Ambassador,” Angela replied. “We are here to escort you to a neutral third dome, where discussions will begin.”

“We would like to rest first,” Old!Oaksent all but demanded. Tok’ra was not with him. He was supposed to be, but they received word earlier today that he had business to take care of elsewhere. Mirage expressed that everything was okay, and that she would join him as soon as she dropped off her crew.

“That’s not happening,” Mateo informed them. “Your journey on your ship was not taxing. You would have plenty of time to sleep. If you want Team Matic here...we’re here. And we’re only here today. You know that.”

Korali scoffs. “He’s weak, and he’s losing. He knows we can’t harm him here. He doesn’t want a few hours to rest. He wants a year.”

“He’s not getting it,” Mateo reiterated. “Follow me.” He began to walk away while Anglea shooed them forward, and took up the rear. Vitalemusian guards surrounded them on either side. They were not taking any chances in this very delicate situation. He led them to the land vehicle that they were going to take to get to the diplomacy dome. It was gigantic, and should be quite comfortable for them all.

When the claimants realized this, they pretty much all stopped at the same time. “I’m not getting in that thing,” Old!Oaksent insisted.

Mateo was confused. “We can’t walk,” Mateo tried to explain. “It’s, like, 50 kilometers.”

“Don’t they have trains here?” Bronach asked. “I thought that was the go-to way to get around a paraterraformed planet.” He winked, reminding them that he was well aware of Castlebourne, and its location.

Angela looked up at the shimmering dome above them. “This world isn’t paraterraformed. It’s naturally habitable enough. The plasma domes are here for defensive purposes only. You can’t build permanent structures on the surface as there is too much seismic activity. Land vehicles are the only way. They live in them.”

“How do you not already know this?” Mateo questioned. “Didn’t you found all these planets?” Bronach probably knew all this entirely, and was just trying to get a rise out of them.

“I didn’t give this one very much thought,” Bronach replied. “I’m only one man.”

“Two, actually,” Old!Oaksent corrected.

“Shut it, grandpa.”

“You’re both old,” Korali argued.

“Get in the car!” Mateo urged.

They relented, and let the guards help them climb in. They found their couches, and settled in. Yes, they were couches, instead of seats. This particular vehicle was designed to transport VIPs. They weren’t really VIPs now, though. It sometimes felt like the driver was running them over boulders on purpose, instead of choosing the smoother path.

About two hours later, they were at their destination, having had to drive slowly because of the instability of the ground, as Angela had explained. This was actually a little faster than the locals would normally go, but they were tracking the progress of the other parties, and wanted to arrive at the same time. The claimants tried to engage her and Mateo in conversation, but the latter two realized that there was no reason why they all had to occupy the same space. It was more than big enough for each party to have their own compartment, so he made the executive decision to separate everyone.

The other vehicle pulled up next to theirs, and everyone started getting out. The Vitalemusian guards tensed up into high alert, prepared to stop any violence. There was very little obvious hostility among the enemies, though. If Mateo had to guess, none of them wanted to appear to see the others as any significant threat. In order to maintain a façade of confidence and dominance, they had to make it look like their opponents meant very little to them. Interesting again, and it too said something about everyone’s strategy going into this. They were going for the same one, which how would that turn out? The non-claimants had one clear advantage, however, in that the Revolumusians only came as a primary diplomat and a lieutenant. They didn’t feel the need to bring their own security guards at all, which really showed how self-assertive they were, and how safe they felt. One point to the allies already, and talks hadn’t even begun.

Team Matic reunited with each other, along with Vitalie and Kivi.  The 31 of them walked together to a third vehicle, still surrounded by about as many guards. The place was even bigger than the transporters, and resembled a gigantic clam. It did have wheels, but there were no tracks in the dirt, giving them the impression that it wasn’t designed to move regularly, but only when necessary. This might have been a particularly geologically stable region of the planet.

The diplomacy room looked like it was specifically tailored for this occasion, and it genuinely might have been. This meeting was on the books for an entire year, so they knew how many people were going to show up. It was a round table, much like the one in the VA, but this could specifically hold fourteen members. Well, it could technically hold more, but it was clearly divided up with concave sections around the edge, each one large enough to accommodate the primary and lieutenant. The rest of each party sat at a half circle table behind them, almost kind of like a VIP area in a nightclub. The entourage, who weren’t expected to speak.

While Mateo and Romana hung back in their little pod, Leona and Angela sat in their designated spot at the big table. They waited there silently until realizing that everyone was staring at them. Leona spoke, not with awkwardness or confusion, but calm, grade school teacheresque inquisitiveness. “Are you expecting us to run the show?”

“That’s why you’re here,” Bronach responded.

It hadn’t been entirely clear what her role here was supposed to be, but she was prepared for this. She glanced at the other members, whose facial expressions implied that they agreed with Bronach’s assertion. “Okay.” She looked over at Vitalie. “I need them to have compatible personal devices; tablets or handhelds, or something.”

Vitalie looked up at the nearest guard, who unlocked a cabinet on the wall with his biometrics. He distributed seven phablets accordingly.

Leona went on, “please take a few moments to write down your goals here. Only one each. Tell us all what you want. You can say, we demand a bouquet of flowers or I wanna destroy the entire universe. It’s up to you what you choose—however insane or unreasonable it may be—but it must be singular, and genuine. Go ahead.” She simply typed PEACE on her own device.

Once they were all complete, Vitalie used her master device to project holograms in front of each party to display their response. Bronach wrote total control over the entire Goldilocks Corridor, and the safe return of all Exin defectors and hostages. Okay. Korali and Old!Oaksent both basically said that they wanted control over their half of the Corridor, suggesting that they had already been working on a deal to divide territories in some fashion. It also clearly told everyone that Bronach should end up with nothing. The resistance fighters from Revolumus wanted the dissolution of the Exin Empire, and for a fair republic to be erected in its place. All three claimants would be barred from so much as thinking about taking any part in the new government. The Verdemusian warriors didn’t care what the people in this sector of the galaxy did, as long as they left everyone else alone. They were evidently fine with an oppressive government if the Exins—or anything which might take its place—remained isolationistic. They were particularly concerned with the secure and successful dispersal of the modular ships in the Stargate project. Team Kadiar asked for safe passage within the Corridor to ferry any refugee who would like to leave for Castlebourne. She quickly added not hostages in response to Bronach’s message. Vitalie abstained from a response.

“All right,” Leona said. “Now we know where we’re starting from, which means we know how far apart we are. Our goal here should be the move everyone as close to the center as possible. You all want power that you can’t have at the exclusion of each other. My job is to see what we can do to make everyone both unhappy, and happy. I’m actually already seeing a potential solution, and your goals are probably not as distant as you think. I’ll hold off on judgment for now, though. First, we all need to spend some time making clarifications and elaborations.” She literally rolled up her sleeves. “Let’s get to it.”

They talked all day, barely taking any breaks. It wasn’t as hard as they assumed for people to start recognizing Leona’s idea, even without her ever saying it out loud. She was right that they could reach an agreement without making too many sacrifices. The main thing that some of them would lose was absolute supremacy. Even Korali and Old!Oaksent’s plan to divide territories assumed that each planet in that territory would want to follow their new, singular leader. The easiest decision they made was to appease the Verdemusians to halt all aggression from the Anatol Klugman warship. Verdemus was sufficiently far outside of the Goldilocks Corridor, and Extremus was not even a blip on their radar anymore as it had long since reached its destination, or at least attempted to. As far as Project Stargate went, the Corridor was obviously wholly off-limits, but so was a sizable bubble beyond that, which should insulate them from interference from worlds that Stargate did manage to settle. It was hard for the Exins to agree to allow the module that would be responsible for colonization here, but that was kind of a non-starter. The Anglos needed to follow their pattern as planned. Even if that meant staying dormant forever, they couldn’t just send that module somewhere else. The algorithm didn’t work like that. That’s what they claimed anyway.

Next came the hard part, which was the question of who would control all of these stars. The claimants all had rational reason to believe that it should be them, but if they didn’t find a peaceful way to govern, the Revolumusians weren’t going to let them relax. The rebels were friends with the crew of the Vellani Ambassador, which was still the most powerful ship in the universe, even compared with the Jameela Jamil. If Team Kadiar ever decided to stop transporting refugees, and start using their vessel as a weapon instead, no one would be able to stop them. As small as it was, its speed was unmatched, and nobody wanted to antagonize them, especially not after Angela strongly suggested that Ramses was developing an entire armada of slingdrive-equipped battleships. That wasn’t actually true, but it was believable enough, and unequivocally within his capabilities.

They could not complete all of the negotiations in only one day, but they did have a framework for one. The three claimants could maintain control over the sector as a Triumvirate, but planetary and local governance would be completely democratic, as overseen by a team of Revolumusians. It wasn’t apparent how exactly this would all work, but they would spend Team Matic’s interim year hashing out the details. They still hadn’t figured out how to handle the refugee issue, but Kivi pointed out that there would likely be fewer applications for emigration if the citizens were treated well. They would be happy, and not interested in leaving, as wherever they were now were their homes. It was hard for the claimants to believe this, and it was true that there was no guarantee, but they seemed to be opening their minds. This might actually work out.

Team Matic disappeared at midnight, confident that all would be resolved by the time they returned. Of course, though, their faith was unfounded. When did anything ever work out that well for them? They finally found out why Tok’ra was not present as the equivalent of Old!Oaksent’s lieutenant. He decided that this meeting did not have the right to speak for the entire Goldilocks Corridor. He had been back on New Welrios, rousing a new rebellion. They too wanted a seat at the table, and nobody was having it. Surprisingly, not even the Revolumusians thought that they deserved a voice. After all this work, war was closer than ever.

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Extremus: Year 104

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Tinaya never did figure out how to get back into the Bridger Section so her son could make a mirror call to the past. Security there is tighter than it ever has been, but that’s okay. Silveon was spiraling, and he wanted guidance, but he will be okay without it. He has his family and friends. Well...he has one true friend and peer. He has not bothered to make friends with anyone else, because they’re all so much younger. It wasn’t just romantic connections that he was potentially forgoing when he sent his consciousness back in time. He really is going to be okay, though. He decided to reassess his priorities, and recommit himself to his mission to help Waldemar. Even though Audrey is the one who is closer to him now, they’re all still friends, and Waldemar needs all the guidance he can get, even if he doesn’t know it. This mission is more critical than ever, because today is the day that Waldemar announces his campaign. If he goes through with his speech, he will be the only one in the race, and that’s because the position he’s vying for doesn’t exist.

“First Chair?” Tinaya questions.

“Yeah, that’s why he said,” Silveon confirms. “He’s been working on this operation in secret. That must be what this press briefing is about. He didn’t specifically say as much, but what else could it be? He still won’t give me any details, but I suspected that it was about finding another girl to get pregnant, so I guess I’m relieved.”

They both look over at Audrey, who responds, “I’ve been laying it on pretty thick. He can pretty much have me whenever he wants. Before you ask, I am on birth control now. I don’t want to get pregnant again, and he doesn’t want that either. The way he sees it, this is the best outcome. He gets the sympathy votes for the dead kid, and bonus, he doesn’t have to pretend to raise the thing. Silvia’s job is done.”

A twitch of a smile flashes on Silveon’s face at the sound of the baby girl who was named after him. It falls back down, however, when he realizes that she’s also talking about her sex life with the enemy. “Just be careful.”

Audrey nods solemnly, but doesn’t say anything.

“How is he gonna pull this off?” Tinaya asks, getting back to the matter at hand.

“He took a page out of your book, mama,” Silveon goes on. “Speaking of the way he sees it, the way he sees it, you were able to abolish the position, so he should be able to revive it.”

Tinaya shakes her head. “I was able to abolish it because I was First Chair. It was in my best interest to keep it, which means I was sacrificing something. I actually rose in popularity that day. He’s asking to bring it back so he can gain power. It’s the exact opposite of what I did. And anyway, I thought he was destined to become captain.”

“We’re in uncharted territory,” Silveon replies. “We have changed so much in the chain of events, but I don’t think I’ve done much to change him. I suppose I managed to lure him away from the captain’s chair, but I couldn’t take away his ambition. He has evidently set his sights on civilian government instead.”

“And he’s going right to the top,” Tinaya says, “to a job that he would first have to create in order to get it.”

“That’s from your book too,” Silveon says sadly. “Before you, there was no such job as Director of Population Maintenance.”

Tinaya exhales exasperatedly. She came to hate that title. It’s too broad. She was there to promote population growth, but it could easily be reversed to oversee population control, and that should never be the objective.

Arqut shifts awkwardly. It was he who came up with the title in the first place, and he too regrets it. “I’ve already submitted a provision to the charter that, if the need for the job arises again, it should be changed to Director of Family Planning. That way, the change will outlive me and-or my tenure as Superintendent.”

“Thank you, honey.” Tinaya turns back to the kids. “How do we stop him, or should we?”

“I honestly don’t know,” Silveon replies. “I’m starting to think that everything we do is a waste of time. Maybe what we should really do is flip to Plan C.”

Audrey shakes her head as she suddenly looks exhausted.

“Wait, what is this Plan C?” Tinaya questions. “Plan B was straight up murdering him. Would you also kill his mother? What’s Plan Z, then, destroying the whole ship?”

“They don’t go in order,” Silveon explains. Plan C is not selected because Plan B fails. It’s a secondary alternative, equally as likely as the first alternative. It involves shifting focus away from my relationship with Waldemar, and towards the creation of the resistance.”

“Unlike before,” Audrey adds, “these resistant forces would be composed of those who have forewarning on what’s to come. Rather than being reactionary, and fighting an uphill battle, like we did in the original timeline, we would be in a place of advantage. That’s the hypothesis anyway.”

“It sounds too late for that,” Arqut reasons. “If he’s already campaigning, has enough damage not been done?”

“It’s the perfect time,” Audrey contends. “Imagine going back to 1922 and trying to warn people that Hitler’s a bad guy. They would be all, who the hell are you talking about? We were always going to have to wait before the right circumstances triggered Plan C. Though your logic is sound, we do have a short window. Gaining power is one thing, but gaining popularity could make forming this preemptive resistance all but impossible. We have to decide now.”

“We?” Tinaya echoes. “We’re just the old fogies. We can give you advice, but you’re the ones with the intel, and it’s become quite clear that we barely know anything about what you’re doing here, or why. How many of these letter plans are there? Hopefully not the full twenty-six.”

Silveon and Audrey exchange a look.

“I don’t even wanna know,” Tinaya says before they can elaborate.

“I will say,” Arqut begins, “at the risk of overstepping, there is no coming back from Plan C. Once you go down that road, you lose all friendly ties with Waldemar. He may not find out that you’re a part of it right away, but he will one day. You’ll recruit someone that you were wrong to trust. Or someone will turn on you. Or you’ll just slip up and say the wrong thing to him. Once you become his enemy on the outside, you lose all hope to change him. Plan A doesn’t have to lead to Plan B, but if Plan C fails, it might. Success means either putting him in hock, or in the proverbial ground. There’s not much wiggle room.”

“That’s why I hate it,” Audrey tells them. “That, and we already tried it. Sure, maybe we started too late, but I’m not sure a time advantage gives us that much of an edge. It will just make him angry. Leona’s Rules of Time Travel, Number Fifteen, don’t antagonize the antagonist. Just like killing him, there’s a reason it’s not Plan A.”

“There’s a way to have the best of both worlds,” Tinaya suggests cryptically. “You could continue with your camaraderie with Waldemar, trying to keep him on the best path while recognizing that his personality is out of your control, and you can’t stop his thirst for power. Meanwhile, completely separately, there is a slow-burning faction of dissidents, ready to keep him in check from the outside. You wouldn’t be involved with them. You would feed them information, but get none in return. This would allow you to keep focus, and keep them from ever needing to be activated.”

“That’s shockingly diabolic of you, mother,” Silveon points out.

“Yeah,” Audrey agrees.

“It is.” Arqut is less impressed, and more disquieted. “Who would do this? Surely not us, we’re an obvious connection.”

“No, we’re too old anyway,” Tinaya says. “I have one or two people in mind.” There’s a knock at the door. No doorbell, no proximity alert; just a knock. It surprises and confuses all of them. “Thistle, what gives?” Tinaya asks to the aether.

“The Thistle Central Systems Intelligence is presently offline for maintenance. For basic assistance, please state your query using clear and unambiguous syntax.”

“Do you think they found out that he’s real?” Tinaya asks as she’s heading towards  the door.

“He’s real?” Audrey asks, quickly having to accept the fact that no one would answer her.

Pronastus Kegrigia smiled from the other side of the doorway. “I believe that I’m supposed to be here?” Yeah, he was Tinaya’s first idea. They know they can trust him, because he’s the one who took care of little Silvia while they were waiting to deliver her to Verdemus. He’s always felt like the anti-Waldemar—just as ambitious, but with an ethics book in his hand. Once Tinaya and Arqut are dead and gone, he may be the only person left on the ship who would be conceivably powerful enough to counteract anything that Waldemar might try to do. It’s also hard to keep secrets from him, which Tinaya recognized from the start. She knew that it was better to keep him on her side than let him end up in opposition.

They get Pronastus up to speed, but they leave a lot out. They take Tinaya’s advice to her son seriously, and just claim to have knowledge of the future. Nobody is a time traveler, and nobody is older than they look. Waldemar is a known future threat who can’t be allowed to assume full control over this ship. That doesn’t mean he can be stopped by any means necessary, and it doesn’t mean his power can be blocked entirely. Pronatus will have to carry a heavy burden, navigating this new mandate with his regular future duties as some kind of official pathfinder for Extremus. He literally asked for it, though. He came to this suite looking to help, and they’re going to take him up on his offer. There is still plenty of time for him to back out. He’s young, and Waldemar has not yet shown himself to be a genuine threat, at least not in this timeline.

It’s time for the press conference, so they head to the briefing room, but separately of course. Audrey is expected to stand next to Waldemar, quietly like a good partner. Silveon has an invite because he’s a friend, but there aren’t enough seats, so he joins the people who are just standing against the back wall. Pronastus told them that he is going to use his pathfinding powers to sneak in, but doesn’t elaborate on what that will entail. Waldemar is not there when they arrive, but everyone else is. Lataran waves Tinaya and Arqut over from the front row, having saved them seats.

Captain Jennings is the last to walk in. He sits on Lataran’s other side, in a seat that is always reserved for him, even if he’s the one standing on stage. He doesn’t know what any of this is about, and he doesn’t know all that much about Waldemar, but due to the latter’s sad history with baby Silvia, he was granted permission to hold this conference. Obviously, they can’t just let anyone stand up there and say whatever they want, but you don’t have to be super famous to make an appointment request either. Children have presented their book reports, and shared interests clubs have used this space to attract new members. It’s always broadcasted, but people don’t have to watch if they don’t want to. It’s usually not quite this full during such mundane announcements and speeches, which speaks to Waldemar’s social magnetism. He’s getting better and better at drumming up intrigue, and people are all terribly curious as to what he’s about to say. Some are members of the press, while others are just well-connected, and work in related fields.

Finally, Waldemar steps out from the backroom, and approaches the microphones. Audrey mousily walks in, and stands obediently at his flank. She’s changed her clothes into something more stylish, and quite frankly, more revealing. He does like her body, even if he can’t form a healthy emotional attachment to her. He clears his throat, and taps on one of the mics. “Thank you all for coming, ladies and gentlemen. I understand that you’re all very busy, and I won’t waste too much of your time. There has been a lot of talk lately about what I’m going to do with my life. I didn’t receive high marks in school, and I did not choose a specialized track. I considered pursuing a career on the crew, even maybe to one day become a captain. In the end, I just wanted to keep my options open. This has led many of you to believe that I have my eyes set on the passenger government. I’m not ruling that out, but it’s also not my concern right now.” Waldemar looks over his shoulder at Audrey.

She breathes deeply through her nose, and forces a smile, but hopefully most people see it as sincere.

Waldemar smiles widely, and looks back at the audience and cameras. “This is about what truly matters...family. I have gathered you all here today to declare my undying love for Audrey Husk, and to announce to the world that we...are getting married.”

Shit.

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Extremus: Year 101

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Around the time that Tinaya was shutting the forced pregnancy program down, something else major was being shut down. As it turns out, the popular immersive role-playing game, Quantum Colony wasn’t only a game. It was real. Players were piloting real substrates tens of thousands of light years away in the Charter Cloud of the Milky Way. It was the infamous Team Matic who figured it out, and threw their weight around to end the whole thing, presumably citing the many ethical violations that it was making. The Military outpost, Teagarden forcibly removed all players, casting them back to their real substrates in the Core Worlds, or in the case of the Extremusians, back here. This had two consequences, which came down to timing. First, people were frustrated, because that game was one of the few distractions that they used to escape the confines of the ship. Without it, they felt more pent up and isolated than ever. But also, because they were being encouraged to procreate anyway, people were relieving their stress through sex. So it’s been a really complicated last few months.

Waldemar was a particularly avid player of Quantum Colony, and he is at the age where he wants to have a lot of sex, even though he doesn’t have the capacity to experience love or affection. Audrey was not his girlfriend at the time, but she could tell that his eyes were starting to wander as he was looking for a mate. She ingratiated herself to him, pulling his attention away from the other girls in his vicinity. He didn’t see a problem with her being a minor, nor being younger than him. Again, because of the way his brain was wired, those kinds of social constructs seemed just as arbitrary as anything. So he fell for her very well-calculated wiles, and focused all of his attention on her. They have been keeping their distance from Silveon—and his whole family, for that matter. Audrey knew that Silveon would not react positively to the news that she was pregnant. On the occasions that they did see each other, she wore carefully selected clothing, was always eating to explain why she was getting noticeably larger when the ponchos weren’t enough, and eventually resorted to holographic trickery to fake her normal, thinner figure.

That has all been lost today. Silveon didn’t catch her showing the true size of her belly, but a mutual associate did. She thought nothing of it, not realizing that anything was being kept a secret. She mentioned it to Silveon casually, having no idea the beast that she was awakening. At this point, Tinaya has known the truth for a couple of weeks, and has been unable to get Audrey to elaborate on the circumstances leading up to her situation. Silveon is determined to get it out of her now.

“Silvy. Silvy! Stop! You look like you’re about to hit her,” Tinaya scolds as she’s physically holding him back.

“I’m not going to hit her!” Silveon insists. “I just want an explanation.” He looks back over at Audrey. “How did this happen? I didn’t even know you liked him. Do you know what he is?”

Audrey is tearing up. “Dougnanimous Brintantalus.”

The initial look of horror on Silveon’s face when he hears that; Tinaya has never seen it before. He’s always been so confident and collected. His expression sinks now, as he begins to hyperventilate just a little. He’s starting to have a panic attack. That, Tinaya recognizes. He’s never been through it before, but she has seen it in his father. “Come on,” Tinaya says. She pulls the two kids closer to her, and teleports them to the giant sequoia. They’re not at the base of the tree, but a couple of decks up. “Thistle. Cone of silence.”

Thistle doesn’t have a way to magically prevent others from hearing what they’re saying, but he can place them in a parallel dimension where light passes, but sound does not. People will be able to see them here if they happen to walk by, but they won’t be able to eavesdrop. They came to this location because the tree has a calming effect on people, which is why she planted it in the first place, along with the rest of the forest. “Cone established.”

“Do what I do,” Tinaya says calmly. She begins to breathe deliberately as she’s staring at her son, and holding his shoulders. No one speaks until he’s matched her breathing for sixty seconds. “Good.”

Silveon nods, and steps back to give himself some space. “I’m okay.”

“I have this thing where you tell me five things you can see—”

“I’m familiar with the technique,” Silveon interrupts. “I don’t need it.”

Tinaya nods. She shifts her gaze between him and Audrey as she asks, “what did that mean? That phrase sounds familiar.”

“It’s famous,” Audrey explains. “It’s called a trust password. People used to think that you could use them to prove that you were a time traveler, but...because of mind-reading tech, it’s unreliable. You could never really trust them. Still...”

“In the future, we joked about using one,” Silveon says, taking over the explanation. “At one point, we were both gonna come back in time. It seemed logical to not have to do this alone. We ultimately decided against it, because we agreed that partners would always distract each other. No matter the dynamic between them, they would end up having too many conversations that weren’t about Waldemar, or at least weren’t about what we need to do to stop him. It’s a one-person job, because that one person can focus all of their energy on this one mission.”

“I think I remember studying trust passwords,” Tinaya acknowledges. Then she quickly realizes that that’s not the point. “I understand the logic in the one-person mission, but she came here to protect you, not help you.”

“How long have you known about her?” Silveon questions.

“A few years.”

“I’ll deal with you later, young lady,” he says to his mother. He faces Audrey. “Whose idea was this? Crow’s? He never thought that I should be the one to go back, even though it was my idea.”

“It wasn’t anyone’s plan but mine. She was right. I came back to protect you, not to complete your mission. You were such a tiny little thing. None of us knew Waldemar when he was young in the original timeline. We didn’t know how he would react. Maybe he would see you as an object to be experimented on. He might have wanted to test what it’s like to set a human on fire, or see what people look like on the inside. We didn’t know anything!”

Silveon shakes his head. “You were meant to see me off that night...say goodbye. Now I know why you weren’t there, because you were sneaking back here, I assume through the prototype consciousness projector? You spent all this time watching me in secret, and you did a damn good job keeping yourself hidden, because we only met a few years ago.”

“That sums it up,” Audrey confirms.

“That wasn’t just a summary. It was a condemnation. I thought hearing it laid out before you would make you see how insulting it was, and how much you betrayed me.”

“Okay,” Audrey begins. “I want you to summarize your own mission with Waldemar, and see how closely it matches up with what you just said about me.”

“That’s my point! He’s the enemy! We’re supposed to be allies!”

“How could we have been allies if I was dead!”

“What?”

“Silveon. We killed everybody. When we projected our minds to the past, we collapsed the timeline behind us. That’s why I had to use the prototype at the exact same time as you. If you came back here alone, I would be gone! The girl named Audrey who you would have met in this timeline would have been someone else! It wasn’t just about you! I wanted to survive this!”

“I’ve never looked at it that way,” Silveon admits. “I always saw what I did as a sacrifice, but I had it backwards. It was everyone we left behind who sacrificed their own continuity...to save us...to save me.”

“They made it gladly,” Audrey tells him, “because they did it to save everyone else on the ship.”

“That’s what you did, when you let him do that to you?” Silveon gestures towards Audrey’s belly.

“I don’t know what’s gonna happen to this child, but he was determined to get someone pregnant. Better me than some innocent girl who doesn’t understand what he is. I can protect myself, and her.” She massages her own belly.

“You just said that we don’t know anything about him,” Silveon reminds her.

“We didn’t before,” she clarifies. “I know him now. I’ve learned coping mechanisms. I’m sure you have too.”

For a moment, there is a silence as the three of them absorb each other’s perspectives. A stranger does walk up, and seems to identify the intensity of the interaction, so he leaves. Silveon leans against the trunk, and slides down until he’s sitting. “It wasn’t supposed to go like his. Mom, why did you try to fix the population problem with a shipwide orgy? It’s fine. Both of us could have told you that it’s fine.”

“The population decline happened in your timeline too?” Tinaya questions. “I was taking it as proof that you butterfly affected something when you came back here. I figured you would have mentioned something at some point.”

Silveon brushes it away. “Yeah, the population goes down, but it bounces back.”

“Tell her why it bounced back,” Audrey suggests.

“I don’t—I don’t know why. Is there some particular reason?” He isn’t acting cagey. It sounds like he genuinely doesn’t know.”

Audrey has had enough of sitting down, so after allowing Tinaya to help her take a seat on the bench, she starts to educate them. “Waldemar takes his cues from history. Understanding social nuances was never his strong suit. One trend he noticed in the past on Earth is that populations tend to rise during periods of political strife. Like dictatorships. He noted that communities that are poor and less educated typically lead to higher populations. Unfortunately for him, achieving the kind of results on this ship are a little more difficult. We take our cues from the post-scarcity society that our ancestors were able to adopt when they were rescued from the Ansutahan universe, and housed in the centrifugal cylinders in the Gatewood Collective. There’s no such thing as poverty, and there’s no such thing as education disparity, because resources are easy to come by, and knowledge is so easy to access and spread. We are limited here, since we can’t just make a stop on a planet, and gather what we need, but we’ve found a workaround with the time travel excursions.

“Waldemar solved the population collapse crisis by making sweeping social changes that you chalked up to random expressions of maniacal power. He did them for a reason. First, he altered the excursion cycle, requiring timeship managers to give definitive proof of depleting resources before one can be scheduled. This may not sound like a big deal, but he would only authorize so many time excursions per year, and only for resources that were already proven low. In order to take advantage of one of these infrequent opportunities, they waited until more resources were low, which meant some resources were critically low, or completely out, before they were replenished. Furthermore, he reworked the contribution score system, so that high scores didn’t just lead to luxury, but to bare necessities. You had to have a job to feed your family, whereas before, such things were considered human rights. In addition, he changed child labor laws. It actually benefited the family to have children enter the workforce at a younger age. And in fact, the system made it so that it was beneficial to have more children, rather than fewer. You would think that it would be the other way around. A lack of resources should lead to lower population, but it encouraged it, because it was all about controlling those resources. Few people knew where they stood. They simply did what made the most sense for their family. His plan worked, but it obviously came at a cost.”

Silveon looks over at his mother again. “So she saved us. She did what I’ve been trying to do this whole time. If his only reason for instituting all those laws no longer exists, he won’t be able to justify those actions.”

“You know better than that,” Audrey contends. “I’m convinced that we changed the future, maybe even for the better. But we didn’t necessarily fix it. Things may still be bad, just in a different way. Without that reason, he may need to come up with a new one, and he may do that if his underlying reason remains, which is that he wants power. What you’re trying to do is teach him to use his power for good, but Silvy...he always was. He just had a warped view of what that meant, and his ego always got in the way. I don’t know how to change that, but as I said, that’s not my job here.”

“Your job’s changed,” Silveon says with a sigh.

“How’s that?”

“You’re no longer here to protect me as a baby, but that baby right there. She’s your only concern. You need to go to Verdemus.”

“No, Silveon, you’re not getting it. That defeats the whole purpose. He’ll find someone else. He needs a family.”

“He doesn’t need a family,” Tinaya says. “He needs sympathy from the voters. Now that we’re in this situation, there’s another way to get it, but it’s sad and depressing, and you’re not gonna be able to raise that baby. She would have to go to Verdemus without you.”

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The Fifth Division: Solid as a Rock (Part V)

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Ingrid wanted to be discreet, and not change the timeline. Yeah, it could be their chance to prevent all this horror from ever happening, or the result could be even worse than before. There is no way to know which path you’re on until your fate is upon you. That’s why the representatives from the various Sixth Key cultures are all here right now. They were trying to prevent themselves from meddling with their people’s futures. And now their worst fears might be realized. She and Onyx were hoping to slip in, rescue the fabled red fruit, and sleep away unnoticed. But that’s no longer possible. The regular blue magnolia fruit pod that they took to get here was more powerful than they knew. It has brought with them a bunch of noisy gold. Killjlir and Andrei come around the tree, ready for battle, surprised to see the two of them, but even more surprised by all this random treasure.

“Was this all about a heist?” Andrei questions. “Are we trying to thwart a heist? Are we doing a heist?”

“This has nothing to do with anything,” Ingrid explains. She looks at the garbage strewn about the ground. “This is a transport error.”

“Fair enough,” Andrei decides. “You’re dressed differently. Yet you left about thirty seconds ago.”

“A lot has happened since then,” Ingrid replies. “It’s been longer than thirty seconds for me.”

Ayata suddenly appears. “How did you beat me back here?”

“I’m from the future,” Ingrid says plainly. “And I need you four to do everything that I say. We don’t have much time before the enemy arrives.”

No one argues.

Ingrid looks over at Killjlir. As terrible as she feels about her new friend being injured, it’s even worse to be considering urging them towards the fall. Unfortunately, she really has to hope that this is all predestined, and she’s just working on closing her own loop. Killjlir has to climb that tree, and they have to fall, so they can float down the river towards the tunnels, and set this whole time travel rescue operation in motion. “Climb the tree on that side. There’s a red fruit at the top that we need.”

“Yeah, I was starting to climb it when you showed up.”

“Good,” Ingrid decides. “I’ll be climbing on this side. This is a stealth mission. One of us has to reach it.” She looks at Ayata and Andrei. “You two have to fight, and keep them from catching us, or even spotting us.”

Andrei tenses up. “Understood. Get on up.”

“What do I do?” Onyx asks.

Ingrid winces. It should be obvious. “Hide.” There’s only one vertical object on this island, and it’s the tree. Luckily, there’s an alcove at the base for him to curl up in. He might still get caught, but since he’s a pacifist, they may not hurt him, especially since they’re planning to blow up the tree anyway. It all depends on how psychotic the First Explorer’s human agents are.

Here’s how the timeline should go. When the enemy comes, Ayata and Andrei hold them off while Ingrid and Killjlir go for the red fruit. Ayata and Andrei lose, but don’t die. The attackers plant their bomb, and bug out. That hopefully leaves enough time for the five of them to escape too.

Onyx gives Ingrid a boost up to the first branch while Ayata does the same for Killjlir on the other side. Ingrid is just starting to reach the foliage when evil Tamerlane Pryce and the other chick show up, but Ingrid can’t see them. It doesn’t sound like they see Killjlir, though, so they must have scurried up far enough already to be concealed by the leaves. Meanwhile, Ingrid quickly moves too high up to really hear the conversation. This close the tree, her ears are overwhelmed by a low hum coming from it. It’s only now occurring to her that it has been doing this the whole time, but it felt so natural and normal, she didn’t notice before now. The trunk lets out the sound consistently while the leaves echo it back as they rustle, like a sound visualizer. She keeps pulling herself up, branch by branch, trying to stay as quiet as she can. These people absolutely cannot know that there is any hope in saving all of this beauty.

As she’s heading up towards the very top, she notices that there aren’t any other fruits up here. They were thinning out, and now they’re gone. It feels like a wasted opportunity. They’re going to need to get out of here as fast as they can, and they’re certainly not going to be able to outrun it. They could try to jump into one of the rivers, like Killjlir incidentally did in the future past, but she was severely injured, and only survived because a magic branch kept her alive, and she happened to float towards the underground bunker. Ingrid doesn’t even know which river goes that way. No. They don’t just need the one red fruit. They also need blue fruit pods, at least one each. She’s so high that she and Killjlir can finally see each other. They stare for a moment, not knowing if it’s safe enough to utter a word. There’s no need. Ingrid just points at them, and then points upwards. She points at herself, and then downwards.

That’s all Killjlir needs to know. They nod, and get back on their way.

Ingrid carefully starts heading back down. She’s not carrying a bag, or anything, so the best way to handle this is to find a branch that happens to be holding several pods, and just break that whole thing off to keep them all together. Another thing comes to her mind. They’ve both been up here a long time. She occasionally hears the clanking of gold, strongly suggesting that the fight is still going on down there, but should it be? Shouldn’t the tree have exploded by now? She tries to multitask, and think back to when she experienced this before. After evil Pryce and that woman disappeared, Ingrid and Iolanta continued to fight each other, but it didn’t last long. And the explosion wasn’t long after that. No, this timeline is all wrong. They’ve changed things. Maybe it doesn’t matter, but maybe it means everything. If she could only hear better what’s happening down on the ground, she would know what to do.

No, it definitely doesn’t matter. She needs these fruits. That’s her only job right now. She’s found the branch that she was hoping for. Five pods are hanging from the tip, which is precisely how many they require. It’s too thick closer to the trunk, though. She’s going to have to crawl farther out to make a clean break. She would much rather inch her way down, but she doesn’t have time for that. The explosion could happen any second. She slides out there as fast as she can, but before she can reach her goal, the branch that she’s standing on cracks first. In a last ditch effort, she reaches out for the bundle of fruit pods, and takes it in her grasp. She falls with it through the branches below, and crashes down on the ground.

Her head hurts, not like a simple headache, but sharper and tighter. It’s concentrated on one very specific spot. Ingrid tries to reach up to find out what’s wrong with her, but she can’t move her arms. She’s either actually paralyzed, or just too injured to move right now. It’s cold, though. It’s cold and wet.

Onyx’s face appears above her. “Don’t move,” he whispers. “I won’t lie to you, it’s pretty bad. We’re gonna get you fixed up, though.”

“What happened to me?” Ingrid can feel her own mind being blanketed over by confusion. She’s trying desperately to hold onto her wits, but they’re slipping away from her in realtime. She’s dying, and her brain is turning the lights off one by one.

“You fell on a crown. It’s jammed into the back of your head,” Onyx explains.

She can still tell that she’s holding the bundle of fruits. Hopefully she’s lifting it up towards him, so he gets the idea. She can’t leave, but everyone else should be able to. “Where are they?” Ingrid struggles to ask.

“They’re inside the tree, trying to set off the bomb at the heart, as they said.”

“And the others?”

“Ayata and Andrei. They’re pretty hurt too, but I’ll feed them the healing sap as.”

Someone else walks up. Ingrid can’t turn her head, and moving her eyes isn’t enough. Onyx doesn’t look happy, though, so she’s guessing that it’s one of their enemies. “You get away from him.”

The woman whose name Ingrid still doesn’t know steps into view. “You think because you changed the timeline, you’ve made things better?”

“You know?”

“I’m omniscient, you insufferable dimling,” she claims.

“Why are you doing this?”

The woman pulls her face into an evil grin. “For this.” She swings her hand into view, showing that she’s holding the red fruit.

“What is it to you?” Ingrid questions.

“It’s an end to my competition,” the woman answers. Ingrid can see her fingernails begin to pierce the skin of the red fruit pod. Unlike the blue ones, it does appear to contain juice. It looks a lot like blood as it’s running down the side of her hand, and her arm. She twitches when a stick bursts out of her chest. Her blood starts spilling out too. Some of it spurts and drips on Ingrid’s face.

“Did you see that coming?” Killjlir asks, having been the one to impale the defiler.

The woman hasn’t stopped smiling. “Yeah. Sure did.” Her hand opens.

The magic red fruit falls into Ingrid’s mouth. For some reason, her reflex is to bite down. It feels a lot different than the other one. As she noticed, it’s juicy, and maybe is indeed made of blood, since it has a bit of a metallic taste, but with a pleasant sweetness to it. The juice runs down her throat, into her lungs, and her stomach. Her whole body pulsates with a power that she’s never felt before. Still, she can’t move. She just begins to know what’s happening around her without being able to see it. Everything starts to move in slow motion. Killjlir angrily tosses the woman to her side next to Ingrid, but falls to their knees, having also been injured prior to this. Onyx lunges towards them to help. Ayata and Andrei are both lying on the ground a few meters away. They’re reaching out for each other, but they’re probably not gonna make it. As soon as Tamerlane steps out of the tree portal, a fire sparks at his feet, and rises up the trunk of the magnificent magnolia tree. As it’s shooting up to the sky, it billows out, and threatens to engulf the lands as it did the first time they tried this. Time moves even slower...and slower.

The power surging within Ingrid intensifies. It too spreads out. Two primal force of nature, preparing to battle it out on this one tiny island. Or maybe not. Ingrid’s energy reaches out for Onyx and Killjlir, as well as Ayata and Andrei. It forms a protective bubble around them, but it doesn’t stay put. It drags them all together into a single entity, and spirits them away just before the wrathful fires can consume them all.

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The Fifth Division: Rock of Gibraltar (Part IV)

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The wave of fire is drawing too close, and Ingrid has no choice but to duck into the bunker with Selma, who leads her down the steps to safety. Once they’re at the bottom, they run through the corridor, and into a wide open room, which must be a gym. Nearly everyone is here, notable absences being Killjlir, Ayata, and Andrei. Horrified, the survivors are watching a bird’s eye view of the destruction on the surface, as likely streamed by a sentry drone. Princess Honeypea is crying into her brother’s shoulder while the other Horticulturalists do everything they can to hold back their own tears. They are distraught, though. There’s nothing they can do to fix this. They don’t know about the whole garden world out there yet. Is it Ingrid’s place to tell them? Did the tree have another plan in mind? What the hell are they supposed to do now?

No one seems to know, but Storm knows that it remains her job to be the leader. “The universe has suffered a terrible loss,” she begins. “Most people in existence don’t even know that this place once stood tall and proud and beautiful. Those who did may never learn that our world was destroyed. We have a lot to talk about. Some of us have lost our purpose, others a home, and some of you, a temporary refuge. I don’t know that I can get any of that back for any of you, but I know that we’re all exhausted and sad. The barracks are down the hall, to the right. It’s okay if we sleep here tonight, Weaver?”

“Of course,” Weaver says sincerely.

Storm nods gratefully. “Get yourselves cleaned up, find something to eat in the kitchen, and then get some rest. We’ll reconvene tomorrow once everyone’s up to it.” She looks at Pinesong to say something to him quietly, but stops to say one more thing to the whole group. “Oh, and anyone who blames themselves in any way for what happened, just don’t. We faced an impossible enemy, and we lost. There’s nothing you could have done. Don’t let the anxiety keep you awake.” Now finished, she does move off to the side with her own people so they can whisper in private.

Ingrid is dirty and bloody, so she takes a shower, and lies down in the medical pod for a bit, but she isn’t ready to sleep. She’s too curious. The fire has finished roaring down its path of destruction, leaving the whole dimension in ashes, but the drone seems to have crashed, or just been switched off. If she wants to see what it looks like out there now, she’ll have to go back outside. She dons a respirator mask, and starts walking back up the stairs. Before she has the chance to open the cellar door, it opens on its own. Killjlir is standing there. They’re soaking wet and coughing violently while holding a broken branch tightly in one hand. There are a few flowers growing from it, and one blue fruit pod hanging from the tip. Whatever Killjlir has been through, it’s a wonder this thing is as intact as it is. They pass out, and fall into Ingrid’s arms.

Ingrid carries her new friend back down to the bunker, and into the infirmary. She places Killjlir in the same pod that she was just using, and carefully removes the branch from their grasp so the machine can track their vitals, make its diagnosis, and execute the proper treatments. They’re not doing well, but they’re not going to die. They suffered wounds all over their upper body that are consistent with hand-to-hand combat, and cuts on their legs indicative of crawling through a bower, or perhaps climbing a tree. They have some level three burns too, but the most pressing threat right now is the water still in their lungs. The little robot arms turn them to their side, and then stick a tube down their throat. It suctions some of it out of their lungs while the rest of the fluid manages to leak out of their mouth. The pod leaves Killjlir on their side while it moves on to the next issues, in order of severity. After removing the necrotic tissue, it triggers rapid in situ dermal regeneration to replace the missing skin. It seals up the cuts with a liquid bandage, and breaks down the bruises with something that it calls a macrophage therapy. Lastly, it begins to emit an ultrasonic wave up and down their body to stimulate blood flow for accelerated healing. Ingrid finally exhales in relief, seeing that her friend is going to be okay. This is a strange feeling to be having for a person she once called her enemy.

Storm walks in. “They’re alive.” It’s unclear if this is a question, or a statement.

“Yes,” Ingrid replies.

“Have they spoken?”

“Not yet.”

“Were they carrying that?”

Ingrid looks down at the branch, now in her hand. “Yeah, I don’t know why.”

Storm steps forward. “May I?” She accepts it from a reluctant Ingrid, then runs her hand along it like it’s a violin that she’s just crafted. “Bark...wood...flower...fruit...”

“Did they bring it here for a reason?” Ingrid asks.

“I fell on it,” Killjlir explains with a very hoarse voice. The pod reacts to this development by administering a nebulized soothing agent along their pharynx. Fortunately, it doesn’t have to stick the tube as far down as it did before. Killjlir clears their throat, and tries again. “I was climbing the magnolia when this asshole whacked me in the head. I fell back, and the branch broke my fall, but then I fell the rest of the way with it into the water. The current took me away, but I could see the fiery explosion above, and feel some heat. I’ve been floating ever since. I don’t know how I got here.”

“I carried you from the entrance,” Ingrid tells them. “You were walking on your own before that.”

“I couldn’t have,” they say with a dismissive shake of their head. “I was dying.”

“The tree wasn’t a single consciousness in a single whole organism,” Storm says. “When you broke the branch, you took a little piece of its mind with you. It might have given your body the strength it needed to make it here from the river bank. We’re only about twenty meters from it, I would say.”

“So, it’s gone?” Killjlir asks? “It’s all gone.”

Storm smiles, and raises the branch. “This is still here. It’s a symbol of resilience and strength.”

“The fruit,” Ingrid poses, “can it be planted? Will it make a new magnolia tree?”

Storm shakes her head. “It’s a virgin fruit, like an unfertilized egg. There is no seed inside this pod.”

“That’s why I was climbing,” Killjlir tries to clarify. “The Pryce guy, he told me to retrieve the red fruit on the top of the canopy.”

“A red fruit?” Storm is confused, but intrigued. She pulls the blue fruit off of the branch, and squints at it. “We’ve always wondered what was preventing it from producing seeds. If you’re right, something must have triggered it, but just this once.”

“It’s all about energy.” Princess Honeypea is standing in the doorway.

“Temporal energy?” Storm guesses.

“It metabolizes lots of different forms of energy, including temporal, yes. It typically uses it to produce its leaves, flowers, sap, and virgin fruit, but it doesn’t have enough to make a seed, and didn’t have any reason to until today. When the bad guys broke the dimensional barrier down, the energy that Pinesong usually channeled to keep it up was all pulled into the earth at the same time. This gave the Magnolia a surge of power, which it used to produce a miracle. Like you said, just this one time. It was a last ditch effort to survive.”

Killjlir turns away from them. “I was its only hope, and I failed.”

Honeypea smiles and lifts the clear casing of the pod. She gently rolls Killjlir back over by their shoulder. “You were only a distraction.” She takes the fruit from Storm’s hand. “I can go back to that moment, and fulfill the task just before the fire overwhelms this world.”

Storm snatches it right back. “No. It’s too dangerous. There are ways that we can rebuild. We won’t allow visitors this time. At all. The magnolia was only one tree out of the many thousands of specimens that we’ve saved over the ages. Saving it would accomplish hardly anything.”

Ingrid takes the fruit this time. “It’s the only one that hasn’t already been saved,” she insists. “The rest are out there.” She makes a general gesture towards the surface. “The tree showed us as much. This whole world is lush with your vegetation, untamed and breathtaking. You’ve just never seen it before.”

Storm studies Ingrid’s face for signs of deception. Then she looks over at Honeypea, who shrugs. “I didn’t know. If this is true, Pinesong’s barrier was always thinner than we knew. Maybe he did it on purpose.”

“I did,” Pinesong confirms after they call him in, and bring him up to speed. “I made the barrier weak so seeds could and would travel through it. It’s actually structured to facilitate the right wind currents. That’s also why I insisted on including the birds and the bees, so they could propagate certain specimens in their own way. I regret it now, though. The walls would have held had I made them stronger.”

“Those defilers would have broken through eventually,” Ingrid believes. “And we would have been left with nothing. You saved all the beauty. It was the right call.”

“I just can’t believe you didn’t tell me,” Storm says to her husband.

“You were so focused on a structured system. I just didn’t want to contain life like that, and I was afraid you would force me to change it. I’m sorry.”

“We’re time travelers,” Princess Honeypea begins. “Maybe what you did in the past was caused by it being necessary in the future. Maybe it was always going to end like this.”

“Then it’s my responsibility.” Pinesong takes the fruit from Ingrid. “I’ll go back and find the magnolia seed.”

“How many can go?” Ingrid questions.

“Only one,” Storm answers.

“No, this is a big one. It could carry two,” Honeypea determines.

“In that case, whoever goes, I’m going with,” Ingrid decides. “They’ll need protection, and it won’t hurt to have a second set of eyes on the seed. Once we do get it, it doesn’t mean the day is saved. We’ll have to find a place to plant it way out there.”

“Then it has to be Onyx,” Honeypea suggests. “He’ll know exactly where it needs to go. Assuming there is water out there?” she asks her brother specifically.

“Yeah, there’s even another confluence,” Pinesong replies, “though it’s only three rivers, not eleven. I don’t know if that’s where it would belong, though, or what.”

“That’s why it’s gotta be him,” Honeypea reiterates about Onyx.

Storm considers the options. They could go through with this and risk the timeline, as well as their own lives, or they could cut their losses, and leave the magnolia in the past. This won’t be an easy decision, so she decides to not make it right away. She orders everyone to go to bed while she stores the fruit and the branch it was once attached to somewhere safe, and secret.

It’s not secret enough for Ingrid, however. After some time has passed, she finds the hidden trapdoor, climbs down the ladder, and looks around for the specific hiding place. The room is full of all sorts of treasure. That’s literal. Gold, diamonds, and other precious jewels are strewn about like a dragon’s keep.

Before she can locate the safe, or wherever the fruit may be, she hears Onyx’s voice behind her from the shadows. “It’s not what you think.” He slowly steps into the light, holding his arms behind his back. “We’re not hoarders, and we’re not greedy. This stuff is meaningless to us.”

“Where does it come from?” Ingrid asks.

He breathes deeply as he’s hunting for the right words. “It grows here.”

“Come again?”

“I wasn’t here yet when Storm and Pinesong had the idea to build this world in the first place. They were on their own, and trying to do everything. His pocket dimension could only be so big, and she struggled to figure out where to plant the specimens. But apparently, these little trinkets have always come through since Piney’s sister came on board. You see, transplanting a plant is difficult on its own. Combine that with the need to transport it into a pocket dimension that’s inside a parallel dimension, and you’re just asking for something to go wrong. The Princess solved their problems, but this new method that she uses has a side effect. It attracts gold. Not raw gold, though, but forged pieces. She either doesn’t know why, or refuses to explain. That’s why she changed her first name to Princess. She thought it was fitting and funny. We toss it down here when we find a piece on the ground, because what else are we gonna do with it? Every item comes from a now defunct timeline. Putting it back in the real world would just flood the market, and as I said, it is of no use to us.”

“It is of no use to me either,” Ingrid agrees. “I’m here for something else.”

He swings a hand around to his front, revealing that he’s been holding the last surviving fruit of the magical memory magnolia tree. “Storm is out of her element. She’s just lost everything that she dedicated her life to preserving. She’s never gonna be happy with any decision she makes moving forward. Trust me, she wants us to make it for her.”

“What do we do?”

Onyx flashes those pearly whites, and swings his other arm around to toss her the branch that the fruit came with. He cups the fruit in both hands now, and tears it apart down the middle, handing one half to Ingrid. “Pop it in your mouth, and start chewing.”

She lifts up her half in customary celebration. “May all fall into your gravity well, but only your enemies hit the ground.” She stuffs it in and bites down. The flesh is spicy and bitter, and not juicy. She can feel the fibers shoot out as the fruits are crushed between her teeth. They crawl down her windpipe and her gullet alike. The tips puncture the tissue, and spread into every system—nervous, muscular; everywhere. An energy surges from them, and across every surface of her body, inside and out. Her skin glows blue, as does Onyx’s. The light that they’re both emanating sweeps out into the room, and when it fades away, they find themselves on Magnolia Island. They were aiming for the back of the tree, so Killjlir and Andrei wouldn’t spot them, but it doesn’t matter. All of the gold and jewels were spirited away with them. The treasures clatter and clank as they knock each other down the hill, into the water. The question now is, was this all predetermined, or have they just changed the timeline?

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