Microstory 2785: It’s Actually About the Whole Planet

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As people are activated in their pods one by one, Jande steps up and takes charge. He asks about everyone’s experience. They all had the same one—the exact same one. The room looked the same, the executioners were the same, even the audience sounded identical, save for their loved ones, who were swapped out respectively. Even the loners saw their parents, or someone else they once cared about. It’s unlikely that some were brought here on such short notice. Quantum casting is relatively easy, but people have their own lives, and the real slowdown would be explaining that this was a performative execution, and they should remain stoic the whole time while they watched.

For the most part, the contestants are fine with Jande playing the leader for now. They still think he was part of the operation from minute one, and they’re hoping he will share what he knows. It’s a fine line he’s walking here, letting them think that just enough to keep them cooperative, but not so much that it paints a target on his back.

They’re all wearing their birthday suits, and it’s rather cold in this room. It’s not until the last pod opens that a wall parts in half, revealing a hidden doorway. The other side is a locker room. It’s even colder, but they find clothes. They are t-shirts, shorts, and skirts, but they’re better than nothing. They get dressed, then start to look around for clues. There is nowhere to sit, which is weird for a locker room, and also frustrating because they’re still wobbly from the mind transference process.

Even the pros say it’s hard on them, probably because this is the weakest they have ever been. Jande spent all that time working out because he didn’t know this would happen. He already was in a baseline model. He should have realized that the coordinators don’t just want them to be unenhanced; they want them to be evenly matched. They’re all slender and lanky, but also short now. Everyone is pushing each other to get to the one mirror, but Jande doesn’t spend too much time in front of it. He’s uncomfortable, seeing himself with the same face but a wildly different body.

Ersence is running her fingers along the walls, looking for another seam for a door. She’s doing it carefully and methodically, and hasn’t used the mirror even once.

“What does it matter?” Jande asks her. “Whatever will happen will happen, and we won’t be able to control it. I think we have all seen that by now.”

Ersence doesn’t look away from her work. “We just died, I recall. I don’t like the feeling of being trapped. Everything my people want could be achieved with a rotating habitat. We could plant trees, and fill lakes. We could even have mountains. But a planet just hits harder. I don’t like enclosed spaces. If I can find a way out before these people let me out, then that’s what I’m gonna do, if you don’t mind...husband.”

“You two are married?” It’s the hermit who should not have even known that this competition was happening. “Forgive me, but, what’s the point? Are you just trying to maximize your chances? You have an 18% chance of winning, compared to my 9%?”

“Marriage is different for us,” Jande explains to the hermit. “It can be for love and partnership, but it doesn’t have to be. I mostly needed an employee.”

Ersence is not offended by this, but the hermit looks over as if in anticipation of her sadness. “Well, then I suppose my odds haven’t gone down, so that’s good.”

“Actually, they have,” an Eyrenlander jumps in. “Their odds are not only 18%. Working together gives them an advantage over whatever is coming to us. If we’re asked to push boulders up a hill, each of us is stuck alone, and it may be physically impossible in these raggedy bodies. But if you team up... Same number of people, same number of boulders, but two of us can actually get both of theirs done.”

“I just said, we are not a team,” Jande reminds the asshole Eyrenlander.

“Yeah, you did say that,” the Eyrenlander replies. “The other day, I was in a virtual construct where I told people I was a zookeeper.” He drops down to a whisper. “Wanna know a secret? I’m not really. Zoos don’t exist anymore.”

They stand in silence for a moment before the hermit breathes in and extends his hand towards Ersence. “Anyway, it’s nice to meet you. I’m Dare Finnian, but you can call me Dare.” He shakes Jande’s hand after hers. “Dare Finnian, call me Dare.” He starts going around the room, repeatedly saying the same thing in slightly different ways.

His ice-breaking triggers a massive wave of introductions. They don’t all shake hands, and they definitely don’t provide their life stories, but everyone gets a say. Except for one man. He’s standing off to the side, looking smug, but not making any reaction to anyone else’s words. He’s just standing there like he knows something no one else does.

Jande walks up to the mysterious stranger, who must be the last guy to register for this. “You’ve been quiet, cowboy. You got a name, or what?”

“Or what,” the man responds without blinking.

Jande looks him up and down. “You look a little familiar. Is that your real face?”

“What is real anyway?” Oh, he’s so mysterious and intriguing.

“I’m gonna need a name, sir,” Jande insists. “It’s a safety thing. No one here is anonymous, and I won’t let you be the exception, so out with it.”

“Found it!” Ersence has her hand behind a corner locker. “Here, help me.” A Bidan woman goes over and helps her remove the entire locker from its socket. Without hesitation, Ersence reaches for the recessed toggle and pulls it down.

The entire ceiling cracks in the center. The two halves lift up and away from each other. Simultaneously, the floor pushes the contestants up like an elevator, leaving the walls and lockers behind. The coordinators are truly leaning into the tropes with this thing; it happens in every movie about challengers in a deadly competition.

The floor reaches the surface, but it doesn’t stop. It keeps ascending towards the sky as a crowd of tens of thousands cheer from the stands. Jande just thought this was going to be a low-key, private matter, but it’s a spectacle. Cameras imply that they’re being watched by people all over the world, and maybe beyond. They really are taking a page out of the classics, like Gladiator and The Hunger Games series.

Not too far from their platform, a smaller one rises in tandem. Vantu Hidayat is on it alone, which is who Jande figured would serve as the third-party judge. “Assembled minds and remote viewers, thank you for bearing witness to this occasion! We have been working on this program for the last four months, and have finally reintegrated our candidates into new substrates!”

It’s been four months? It’s already spring, that’s not good.

“I know you’re all anxious to get going, but first, we have to inform the candidates of something we discovered while we were researching the charter!” Van looks over at the larger platform, and lowers his voice. “You believe that you will be competing for the fate of Quiratan, but centuries ago, it served as the first settlement on this planet. The Superintendent position would not oversee only one community. Winning this will place you in a supervisory role over all of Thālith al Naʽāmāt Bida.”

Microstory 2784: He is Not Really Going to Die

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Registration is over. After one more person signs up following Ersence, they lock it down. Now the contenders are waiting for their next instructions. They still have no idea what’s in store for them, or when it’s gonna happen. They just go about their day, and go to sleep that night.

The front door creaks open. It’s the 26th century, doors don’t have to creak if you don’t want them to. Jande’s grandfather designed it to do it because that’s how history taught him. Once the world transitioned to a post-scarcity economy, people stopped having to worry about their neighbors much, but Rolof Ter Avest believed in full immersion. They’re not playing a game here, with their intentionally low-tech lives. Protecting the home has been a tried and true practice for millennia, and it doesn’t have to stop here. The creak means someone is using the door. Jande is so intimately familiar with his home that he can even tell when it’s being opened from the inside or out.

Jande is up and out of bed before the intruders can make it more than a few steps into the house. For a split second, he catches sight of Ersence still fast asleep. He reaches over the headboard and unlocks the shotgun. He swings it around and aims it at his bedroom door just as it’s opening. “Halt or catch fire!” Jande orders.

Ersence is startled awake. She curls herself up against the wall, but isn’t scared.

If the first intruder isn’t backed up then they’re stupid, and they deserve to die. Jande has every right to defend that home. Post-scarcity conventions and virtual immortality diminished the need for violence; they didn’t erase the possibility of being attacked anyway. No court would convict him. So once he sees the figure move another centimeter forwards, he fires at it without hesitating.

The enemy twists backwards when they get shot in the shoulder, though they don’t fall over. In response, they lift their undamaged arm and point towards him. An electromagnet spins up, pulling the gun out of Jande’s hand, along with every ferromagnetic object in the room. A pair of hands takes the first figure by the neck and wrenches them backwards to make room in the doorway. The true threat emerges from the hallway. “This is why we came to you last, because we knew you would make noise.”

Jande hears another shot. The speaking intruder’s head jerks backwards before the rest of his body follows and falls on top of the robot. Jande looks over at Ersence.

“Whoever told you to own a gun made out of metal did you a disservice,” Ersence says. “There’s intentional obsolescence, and then there’s willful incompetence.”

Jande reaches out and takes her wrist. “Come along, darling.” He takes her into the bathroom because the window in there is easier to open.

As they’re slipping out, they hear hushed voices nearby, but Jande can’t tell what they’re saying. This is a full-on assault. The Eyrenlanders don’t want to wait for the Superintendent to decide who takes control over the community because they know the five people they registered are gonna lose. Jande just needs to make it over the border where he’ll find asylum with the Mount Pryce-dwellers. From there, he will take back control of his land, and if he’s the last surviving competitor, he’ll automatically be Superintendent by that point anyway. They just have to stay quiet and stay vigila—

A sharp pain starts on the surface of the skin of his neck before sliding in deeper. It’s a needle...not even a jet injector, but a bona fide 5-centimeter-long needle. Arms gently help him down to the ground as the stars above twinkle off. Someone else is sedating Ersence, and there is nothing that either of them can do about it.

Jande wakes up in a reclined wooden chair. His wrists and ankles are strapped down, and there’s an IV line in his arm. Something is attached to his head, but he can’t tell what it is. It’s somehow both spongy and hard at the same time. He is in a dimly lit room, with whirring machines to his left and an electrical box to his right. Before him is a window, and next to it a nondescript door. As the fog lifts from his mind, he starts to realize where he is. This is an execution room, but a hodgepodge of various methods. All that’s missing is the firing squad and the guillotine. He cranes his neck to look up. Oh, no, there’s the guillotine. Well, at least they have all their bases covered.

The door opens. Several men enter solemnly. The curtains fall away, revealing the audience. His parents are there, having returned from their first retirement location on the edge of Eyrenland, where it’s still green and alive. Other Quiratani are sitting around them, hardened looks on their faces. No one is upset by this. They look robotic.

One of the men is wearing a black hood. He walks over to the electrical box lever and rests one hand upon it. Two men in lab coats go over to the machines to push buttons and take notes. A man in a three-piece suit nods once at the guys carrying rifles over their shoulders. They spread out along the wall and aim their weapons at Jande.

The boss man looks over at a landline phone on the wall, consults his watch, then looks back at the phone. This is some sick reenactment shit, and Jande doesn’t appreciate it. It was a savage time in human history when they did this, and yes, he does recognize that murder wasn’t completely illegal for the vast majority of the timeline.

When the phone doesn’t ring, the man sighs and takes a half step towards Jande. “This be your last moment on Earth, son. Do you have any last words?”

Jande chuckles. “Uhh...ai gonplei ste odon? Or...shel kek nem ron.” Yeah, that’s the one. Let’s get this pinnacle of literal overkill over with.

“Ready!” the man in the suit cries.

The electrician tightens his grip on the lever. The firing squad cocks their guns. The lethal injectors turn one last knob.

“Aim!” the man adds.

Jande’s chair turns down so his neck is directly under the guillotine blade.

“Fire!”

A mask appears in Jande’s field of vision. Someone affixes it to his face. The air inside feels different on his tongue and in his nostrils. He breathes deeply as euphoria floods his whole body, and he begins to drift away. His eyelids bounce up and down while he smiles. The electrician never pulls the lever. There is never any tightness in his arm at the injection sites. The gunmen never fire. The guillotine never falls.

Jande awakens yet again, this time in a bioprinting pod. He pushes the lid away and climbs out. He has transferred bodies before, but he’s not as experienced as some are these days. He stumbles around like a newborn fawn. He manages to make it over to the next pod where he finds Ersence’s new body still finishing being printed. As he makes his way around the room, he sees the other nine contenders in varying stages of the printing process. What the fuck was that all about?

Extremus: Year 143

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Weird things have been happening on the ship. Waldemar’s support system has been shrinking. People have turned up missing, while others have died under mysterious circumstances. His most loyal followers and sycophants are just going away, and life on Extremus has become bleaker than ever. Waldemar himself doesn’t seem fazed. He remains steadfast and ambitious. It’s become clear to all that he is planning to hold onto the captain’s chair through at least the next shift. After that, he might be too old to continue, unless he finds and unlocks immortality tech. It’s weird, really, that he doesn’t seem to be pursuing that. Is there something he knows that Silveon doesn’t? Well, obviously there is, because his people keep dying, and he doesn’t seem to care.

“He doesn’t care, because he thinks they betrayed him,” Sable starts to explain.

“What do you mean? A couple of these guys have been with him since the beginning,” Silveon points out. “I hardly think they would betray him now.”

“That’s because they didn’t,” she clarifies. “I just told him that they had.”

“Why is he listening to you? You’re his girlfriend, not the devil on his shoulder.”

“I may as well be,” Sable contends. “He asked me to use my time tech to spy on the entire ship. It’s completely untraceable and unhackable, because there aren’t any surveillance devices anywhere. All I have to do is remotely view wherever I want.”

“And you’re feeding him bad information from that illegal surveillance?”

“Oh, one hundred percent.” She walks over to her closet and opens the door. She presents her wardrobe flamboyantly as if it’s a prize on a gameshow. Then she closes it, performs some kind of maneuver which Silveon can’t see from his vantage point, then opens it again, but this time from the hinged side. Instead of clothes, there’s now some kind of fancy contraption. There are indicator lights and interface screens on it, but none of them is lit up. “I don’t even turn it on.”

Sable takes out her handheld device, which is a fairly rare thing in this culture, and tosses it to him. “I had the AI write me an algorithm to decide our next victims. I couldn’t go after the big fish on day one. I started with low level—but wildly enthusiastic—fans who Waldemar was already suspicious of. Each time he found a new enemy, it reinforced his paranoia that no one can be trusted, which told the algorithm who to pick next.” She plops down on her couch, pleased with herself. “Impressed?”

“I’m scared.” Silveon sighs. The logic is sound, but it’s still wrong. It’s an abuse of power, and exactly what Waldemar would do if he were in their shoes. He can’t stop her, though. She’s too powerful to go up against, and he doesn’t want to be on her bad side too. He may yet be able to reason with her, though. “You’ve become him. It’s not—” He stops and shakes his head, not knowing how he could possibly get through to her. “We were never worried about Waldemar Kristiansen himself. Waldemar Kristiansen is only a man. What Audrey and I were worried most about were tyranny and fascism. And anyone’s name can be attached to those concepts. I think you just attached yours.”

Sable stares at Silveon with cold, dead eyes. She turns her hand so her palm is facing up. A glass appears upon it, already filled with a brown liquid. “Do you know what this is? It’s bourbon.” She examines it like a scientist, and doesn’t drink. “Waldemar’s mother used to drink this stuff all the time. She was a telepath...worse than her son, because she could hear people’s coherent thoughts. There was one difference between her and Waldy, though: this brown junk. She internalized her dark thoughts, which protected the rest of us from her. But alcohol is illegal, and even though Waldemar obviously doesn’t care about the law, it never occurred to him to self-medicate.”

She chuckles. “This isn’t a replica. It was actually hers. It disappeared from her hand in the year 2354, because I stole it...just now. Don’t worry, I piggy-backed off of a different time travel event, so the sensors will dismiss it as a minority report.” She sets the glass down on the table. “She was so drunk, she won’t even notice. She’ll think she merely blacked out for a few seconds while she drank the whole thing, and threw it in the material reclamator. It wouldn’t be the first time.”

“Why are you telling me this?” Silveon questions, more scared than before.

Sable leans forward sinisterly. “Because if I took the glass the day before or the day after, I might have been caught. You have to pick and choose when you do what you do. It’s the same reason you didn’t murder Waldemar in his sleep when he was a kid, and why Mateo Matic only assassinated Adolf Hitler after the holocaust. It seems cruel. Why wait that long? Why let so many people die? Because believe it or not, in the void left behind when Hiter died as a teenager in an old timeline, a worse threat took power. He was the lesser of two evils. He saved the human race.”

“That is a despicable thing to say about history,” Silveon warns her.

Sable doesn’t flinch. She reaches down and picks the glass back up to take one little sip. Now her face contorts. “Now that is despicable, and disgusting.” She clears her throat. “I lied to you earlier. I turn that machine on all the time, but instead of spying on my brothers and sisters, I use it to wander the past and future. I’ve seen all of reality with that thing, and I’m the only one in the universe who can handle it.” She closes her eyes to correct herself, “besides, like, Lincoln Rutherford.”

“I’m having trouble following you. Are you Hitler, or are you the worse threat?”

Sable takes a deep breath. She takes another one, and another. “Waldemar is Hitler.” She pauses again. “You are the worse threat.” She snaps her fingers.

Waldemar appears in the room. He’s confused. “How did you summon me?”

“Don’t worry about it, babe. I brought you here to show you, I found the last dissenter. I figured you would want to handle it quietly.”

Waldemar looks down at Silveon. “I’ve always known about him. He was eight years younger than me—a baby—and we had playdates? It never made any sense.”

“Of course you knew.” Sable stands up and kisses the captain on the cheek. “You’re a genius. But I used that machine to see what would become of this ship if he were allowed to live even one day more. Now is the time to end it. You can’t put it off any longer, and I don’t think you want anyone else to know about it. Fortunately, he’s no longer in the public eye, so covering up his death shouldn’t be too hard.”

Waldemar looks back at the man he once called his friend. “Why? What is this all about? You have been trying to change me my whole life? What was the point?”

Silveon turns his chin up. “What does it matter? It didn’t work.”

“It did work, though,” Sable argues. “I used the machine, remember? I saw your timeline, and I see the future in this one. You thought you were trying to stop him, but you were actually helping him reach his full potential. And your job is done. It’s my turn now.” She looks at her boyfriend. “You should kill him here. One clean head shot. This is a dead zone. No sensors will log it, and then I’ll clean up for you.”

“You will make a good wife,” Waldemar tells her. He takes out his sidearm, trains it on Silveon, and squeezes the trigger.

Time stops. Silveon is staring at the explosion coming out of the gun, frozen in space and time. Silveon can’t even move, except for his eyeballs.

Sable gets down on her knees underneath the bullet, and frowns at Silveon. She leans forward and kisses him passionately on the lips before placing her mouth near his ear. She whispers, “meet me in Montauk.” She then puts her three middle fingers on his forehead and violently tips him backwards.

When Silveon opens his eyes, he finds himself lying on the floor of an unfamiliar room. He grasps at his head and winces with a hiss.

A woman is sitting at her desk. She turns around when she hears him. “Report.”

“Just tell me the date please,” Silveon requests.

“It’s August 15, 2311.”

“Can you turn off the light please?” He can barely open his eyes, it’s so bright.

“Do it,” the stranger commands the AI.

“August 15, 2311,” Silveon echoes. “Did I piggy-back off of a time travel event?”

“Probably,” she replies. “There was one only minutes ago, well within the margins of error for the ship’s sensors to ignore your arrival. If you wanna go back, though, you should do it quickly, though, or it will be detected.”

“I don’t know why I’m here. She told me to meet her in Montauk.”

The woman seems taken aback by this. “Here.” She helps him off the floor, and onto the bed. “Are you thirsty?” She hands him a glass of water. “I’ve not had any yet.”

Silveon accepts the water and drinks while she goes over to the opposite wall. She slides a cabinet door out of the way, revealing a huge collection of old media. He can’t remember whether they’re called cassette tapes or DVDs because they are so ancient. She scans the library with her finger before settling on one. She pulls it out, looks at the cover herself, and then kneels down in front of him, setting the item on the floor. She puts her hands on his knees, almost affectionately. “Either the person who sent you here really loves you...or really hates you.” She smiles sadly, and hands him the box.”

Silveon looks at it. “Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind.” He flips it over to read the description, but stops. “Is it supposed to jiggle like that?”

“No,” she says with a shake of her head. “Open it.”

He lets the big black thing slide out of the box. It doesn’t look right. It looks like part of the outer casing has been pried off. Inside of it is a ring. He picks it up and lets the media fall back to the floor. He takes the stranger by the hand and compares the ring that’s on her finger. “They’re the same.”

“Twins,” the woman says. “It’s fitting you should come here. I had to use mine to save my life during that time travel event, when someone tried to kill me.”

“Someone’s trying to kill me,” Silveon admits, “with a gun.”

She nods. “That can save you, but you don’t have enough time to learn how to use it. It creates temporary pockets of space, allowing you to adjust something’s trajectory.”

Silveon thinks about it. Then he gently places the extra ring in her hand. “Then it’s not for me. If I survive in my time, on that day, I’ll only be putting off the inevitable. My...frenemy wants me to do this, which means I don’t think I should. I should die.”

The woman drops the ring back in the box. “That’s your choice, and I respect it. I don’t know what you’re going through, but have you heard of The Question, by chance?”

“Yes,” Silveon replies.

“You’re meant to answer yes or no, but did you know there was a third answer?”

Silveon returns to his present, and lets himself get shot in the head.

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The Advancement of Mateo Matic: June 5, 2457

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Leona and Marie were in hock, and had been for the last five days. They managed to return to their past, in the middle of the kasma, where they hoped to be, but they were immediately scooped up by the Angry Fifth Divisioner’s ship. As he was the one who deployed the technology needed to seal up the membranes of the two sister universes, he could pass through them freely using some kind of temporal skeleton key. They needed that key, as well as the technology itself. They just had to escape first. In the meantime, he was looking for their co-conspirators. He was convinced that the rest of the team members were floating around here somewhere, and had been on the search this whole time. It was only five days for them, but five years for him. He would not listen to reason. Well, to be fair, he had every reason to believe that the others were here too, but after all this time, how could they still be alive?

“Maybe you two had to bail out in your suits, but your friends had personal pods, or an evac shuttle.” He didn’t know that they had come back in time from the future. He assumed that the Transit had managed to escape, but left the team behind for whatever reason. There was no point in correcting him. At best, he wouldn’t believe them, and at worst, it would make things harder for them.

“Well, I think that you would have found them by now,” Leona told him. “They would be emanating heat, and you could detect that heat, right? There’s not much heat in the kasma naturally, is there?” She kept having to baby him, and it was exhausting.

“No, it’s even colder than the vacuum.” He was right about that. Ramses measured the mean temperature to be at 2.16 Kelvin. “So, where are they?”

“We don’t know!” Marie said for the upteenth time. “We got separated.” This was technically true, even though her wording implied that it was not done intentionally.

“So, what do you want me to do, let you out?”

“That would be a start,” Leona replied.

“You realize what you’ve done, right?” A.F. asked. “The only thing that was keeping you alive was the prospect of being able to kill you all at the same time. If no one else is here, I’m just going to cut my losses, and kill the two of you alone. I’ll worry about the others later, I suppose. Your execution will be scheduled for tomorrow morning.” A.F. said with confidence.

“Problem with that,” Marie started to point out.

“We won’t exist tomorrow,” Leona added.

“Right.” A.F. tried to figure a way out of this glaring mistake. “Tomorrow, Greenwich Mean Time. It’ll be later tonight local time.”

That was a dumb answer, but they didn’t push it. “Of course, sir.”

“I’ll go make the preparations. Say your final prayers to your god.”

“Yes, sir!” Marie saluted him sarcastically, but he took it genuinely. She watched him leave. “Okay, your plan hasn’t worked so far, so can we just go with mine now?”

“Yeah,” Leona answered her with a sigh. The original idea that Leona had for their escape plan was to hack into the keypad on the cell door. They heard the beeps when they were first locked in here, so they knew that they were dealing with an eight-digit combination. She was able to covertly stick a brute force strip underneath the pad, but in all this time, it had yet to find the right answer. It was probably something absurd, like 99999999. The strip was programmed to try them in order, so that would be its last guess. Unfortunately, it might take up to another year or more for it to get to that point, and they no longer had the time for that.

Obviously, when A.F.’s people captured them, they removed the outer layers of their integrated multipurpose suits, leaving them only with the biometric base. They stashed the response and armor layers elsewhere on the ship. Ramses upgraded their suits in various ways, but they appeared normal, so anyone here wouldn’t have felt any need to take any special precautions with them. They just stuffed them in a drawer, and forgot about them for the last five years. One special feature was the suit’s ability to become mobile on its own. This was possible to some degree in all standard models, but it would still need a user to be wearing it in order to provide physical support. It was meant to allow the suit to carry its user back to safety if they fell unconscious, or to their gravesite if they were dead. The original engineers didn’t think that the suit would have any need to move around completely on its own, but Ramses being Ramses, he did. It could indeed move while totally empty, like something out of a cartoon. It was less inconspicuous than a hacking strip, but it would work.

Marie placed her sleeve up against her temple to activate the remote neural interface, and began to command the outer layers to climb out of their drawer, and walk down the corridors towards them. The helmet was fully attached as well, so it looked like a real person, but that didn’t mean it had the authorization to go where it was going. If someone decided to stop and ask for its ID badge, or something, the jig would be up. Fortunately, that didn’t happen, but making it to them was the easy part. Dealing with the hock watcher was the real challenge, and it was about to begin.

“Wait,” Leona ordered just before the empty suit could enter the hock section. “This isn’t going to work.”

“It’s all we have, LeeLee.”

“Just give me a second.” Leona tried to concentrate, but she didn’t have the power to see remotely. “Here, let me join.” She grabbed Marie’s free hand, and placed the sleeve against her own temple. She closed her eyes to see through the suit’s point of view. “I can do this. Throw your voice into the helmet, but put a delay on it. For everything you say, make it come out of the speaker ten seconds later.”

“What are you doing?”

“I’m changing your plan so it actually works. Throw your voice.”

“It’s not my voice. It’s going to sound like A.F.’s.”

“Even better. Ten second delay,” Leona insisted.

The hock watcher opened the little window in the door when the suit knocked on it. “Can I help you?”

“I need to interrogate the prisoners again,” Marie said through the speaker, modulating her voice to impersonate the leader.

“Sir? You’re back so soon?”

“Yes. Open the door.”

“Why are you wearing one of their suits?”

“Because it makes me feel sexy, now open the goddamn door.”

The hock watcher was unconvinced, but that was okay. That was why Leona was here. “I’m sorry, sir, but this could be fake. I’m going to need you to raise your visor.”

Marie looked to Leona for guidance. Leona nodded confidently. She was ready for it. “I appreciate your dedication to the job,” A.F.’s voice said to the hock watcher. Marie raised the visor. Inside the helmet was A.F.’s face, in holographic form, of course. This was why Leona needed the delay. Every time Marie said something, Leona would need to match the hologram’s lips to it.

“Thank you, sir. I just want to be cautious.”

Of course, they didn’t want to make this any harder on themselves than they had to, so from this point on, short answers only. “I’ll remember that for your next evaluation.” Could’ve been shorter. Leona really struggled with that, but it seemed to work. The hock watcher opened the door, and let the deepfake A.F. in. “Go ahead and open it up.”

“Sir? That’s not protocol. You’re the only one who knows the code.” Shit. Really?

“Uhh...use the master code.” A decent guess?

“Master code?” The hock watcher questioned. “Who are you?” He shook his head. “This is a trick. I’m calling security.”

The suit reached up, and slammed the hock watcher’s head against the cell wall. He was knocked out cold, which would delay the security team’s response time, but someone would find him eventually, or he would wake up on his own, and call them then. The fact was they were still locked in this cell, and didn’t know the code. They were going to have to extend this mission even further, and go find A.F. himself.

“Stuff the body in that cabinet,” Leona ordered.

“He’s not dead.”

“He still has a body. Put it in there, please.”

“You do it...Captain.”

“This is your plan!”

“You’re supposed to be the smart one. You should have come up with both Plan A and Plan B. Now you’re going to have to impersonate someone else for A.F., and he’s going to be a lot less accommodating since he’s apparently the guy in charge.”

“Well, we may have had more options if you hadn’t knocked him unconscious,” Leona reasoned.

“I didn’t do that. You did.”

Leona was taken aback. She decidedly had not. Before they could argue any further, though, the door clicked, and swung halfway open. The stared at it for a moment. “Hm. The strip found the code.” She stepped out, and looked at the keypad. Her guess was close. It was 88888888.

Marie saw it too. “All ones would have been easier on us.”

While Marie was putting her suit on, Leona dragged the hock watcher into the cell, and locked it back up. She removed the hacking strip, and tucked it back into her base layer, in case they ever needed it again. They also didn’t want to let anyone know how they managed to get out of here. Hopefully, they would just blame the hock watcher for the whole thing, and not investigate any deeper. “I still can’t teleport. I think the power blocker works all over the ship.”

“Well, you can obviously make yourself look like anyone, so I’ll continue to be A.F., and you be the hock watcher. We’ll go down to get your suit, and then get to work.”

“No, I don’t want to run into anyone else again. Let’s become invisible instead.”

“That’s Olimpia’s forte.”

“We can all do it. There’s a mirror over there for us to practice with. I’m sure no one will be back too soon.”

The door opened, and A.F. walked back in.

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The Advancement of Mateo Matic: February 26, 2399

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Leona woke up yesterday, but she only spoke with Winona and Aldona. She wasn’t ready to speak with her future self, even if it meant staying away from her husband too. She’s still not ready for that today, so she’s focusing on the prisoners. Mangrove Rocket Three is orbiting Earth now, but they have no current plans to land on the surface until all of these loose ends are resolved. Right now, she’s sitting with Senator Morton. “We’ve never met. My name is Leona Matic.”

“I met a Leona Reaver.”

“Did you meet her, or did you lock her up and study her?”

“We mostly just kept her locked up,” Morton replies.

Leona nods. “Well...” She’s about to tell him that this is Reaver’s body, but he doesn’t need to know that. He doesn’t need to know anything.

“If we were to return you to Earth, what would you do? How would you handle the situation?”

“What do you mean?”

“You’ve been dead for over eight months. They had a funeral. Some of your shady and corrupt dealings were later made public in a posthumous scandal that made headlines nationwide.”

He’s seething.

“Oh, don’t be mad at us. When you died, we moved on with our lives, and barely gave you another thought. You locked up our friends, but you were gone, so you couldn’t hurt anyone ever again. We had no need to soil your purported good name. We didn’t care. Other people found the skeletons in your closet, because they were there to be found, and those investigators cared. But that changes nothing, at least as far as I and my team are concerned. Good, bad, it doesn’t matter to us. We’re only worried about what you’ll tell the public. How will you explain your absence? Did you fake your death? Did someone else fake it?”

“Yes,” he interrupts her. “That one, ‘cause it’s true.”

“All they would have to do is exhume your body, and call that into question.”

“We’ll say I have a twin brother, who died in my place, and I tried to run for help, but they caught up to me.”

“Why did the people who murdered this twin brother because they thought he was you let you live once they realized their mistake?”

“Their boss changed their mind,” Morton suggests. He’s scared.

“You’re worried we’ll kill you, aren’t you?”

“No.”

“You think that we’ll solve the problem of your highly exaggerated death, as reported by the news, by turning it into a real death.”

“Well, is that so crazy? You killed me before.”

“Winona killed you, and I think she’s grown a lot since then. She was trying to protect her asset anyway, who you had unlawfully abducted.”

“I just wanted to understand who you people are. I still do!”

“Your daughter died too, did you know that? Did you see her in the cafeteria while you were learning how to be alive again?”

He was seething before, but now he’s fuming. “No. I could barely see a thing before the hock you just escorted me out of. The lights were so bright, and everything was blurry. Did Winona kill her too?”

“Absolutely not. It was an enemy, who we managed to destroy, and I’ll have you know that if I hadn’t sacrificed my own life, he may have been brought back too.”

“You look fine to me.”

“I’m on borrowed time,” Leona explains. She’s not going to get into the fact that her future self does end up returning too, especially because of the body deficit caveat.

“I don’t know what you want me to say. I wanna live, and honestly, I’ll do whatever you want to make that happen.”

Leona nods, and takes out her tablet. She starts flipping through photos of men with various hairstyles for Morton to see. He thinks nothing of it yet, but he’s going to be shocked, and probably afraid, when she tells him what these have to do with him. “I noticed that you have a full head of hair, which is impressive for a man of your age.”

“Yeah...”

“What if I told you that you may be able to look like a whole new person, but you would have to shave your head, and replace it with hair transplants?”

“Why would I do that? I mean, why would that be a thing?”

“We have a friend with the ability to make herself look like anyone. If we transplant some of her hair onto your head, you may gain that ability, except it won’t be an ability. You’ll only be able to choose your form once, and have to stick with it for the rest of your life. This will allow you to blend in with the public without anyone knowing who you really are. Even if you try to tell them the truth, they obviously won’t believe you. We’ll send you into the witness relocation program, and get you set up with a new place to live. You’ll have to stay out of the spotlight, though.”

“That sounds absurd.”

“Is it worse than being in hock? Because that’s what you’re facing if you don’t take this deal. We can’t have someone running around the planet, revealing all of our secrets to anyone willing to bend an ear.”

Morton sighs, shakes his head, and massages his temples. “Can I think about it?”

“You’ll have until the end of the week to decide.” She looks over to the door, and nods at Winona through the window. This conversation is over.

“Wait, how long until the end of the week? What day is it?”

“It’s February 26, 2399. Friday.”

“Dammit!” He’s frustrated, but the average person doesn’t ever need more than one day to make a decision. That’s plenty of time to weigh the pros and cons, and just get on with it. He lets himself be taken away.

Leona gets herself another cup of tea before the next subject comes in. He’s already sitting when she comes back in. She doesn’t bother joining him. She takes a slow sip by the door as she’s having a staring contest with him. “Lock ‘im up,” she orders decisively. “We’ll send him back to the main sequence whenever the opportunity arises.

Winona takes Erlendr away, and returns with Fairpoint. He doesn’t even get over the threshold before Leona dismisses him too. He’s going right back to the black site, just in a shiny new body.

Winona brings in the vengeful Fifth Divisioner.

Leona tries to rub some dead skin off of her cuticles, and pretty much ignores him for a few minutes. “What’s your name?” she finally asks impassively.

“Business.”

She rolls her eyes. “Did you mean to say Nunya?”

“No,” he insists, embarrassed. “Hold on, ask me again.”

She consults her watch. “I don’t care what your name is. I just can’t decide if I want to let the government interrogate you, or if I should send you to Antarctica. I’m hesitant to do either, because I don’t trust either party with this task, but I also don’t want to waste my own breath on it. I’m not sure you have anything valuable to say to me, but I worry that you might know something you don’t realize is important, particularly about Constance!Five.”

“I won’t tell you anything, and I won’t tell anyone else anything either.”

“You won’t? Why not?”

“Because I hate you with every molecule in my body.”

“How do you train new molecules to share this hate?”

“Huh?”

Leona narrows her eyes to try to read him. “Nah, you don’t know anything. You were just a tool. A new ally of mine killed you, and he did it to save me, but he also had his own reasons, and I don’t want to take that away from him.”

“So you’re going to kill me again?” he figures.

She stands up. “Go float yourself, whatever your name was.” She leaves the room, and manages to run into Mateo-slash-Future!Leona. “Wanna do me a favor?”

“Anything,” they promise.

“Teleport the prisoner in the interrogation room to the edge of the atmosphere.”

“Are you sure?” Meona asks.

“Yes,” she confirms as she passes by. Winona has been following her. “Did you put the next one where I asked?” she asks her.

“He’s on the bridge,” Winona says. “Vearden is watching him. Well...Tarboda is watching him, and Vearden is watching Tarboda.”

“Thanks.” Leona enters the bridge. “Computer, open the sunshields.” The viewports rise, allowing them to see the Earth above them. She steps up to one of them and looks out. “Have you ever seen such a thing?” she asks her grandfather.

“Such beauty,” Labhrás responds in his cool Irish accent.

“Do you ever wanna see it again? Not this view, of course, but something more than the inside of a prison cell?”

“I would. Very much, I would. I sincerely regret my life choices, and I’m ready to start making better ones. My death has been an eye-opener.”

“Parole rules,” Leona begins. “No contact with old associates, no firearms, no breaking the law. I’ll assign someone for you to check in with. You’ll be taking drug tests, and getting yourself a real job so you can contribute positively to society.”

“That all sounds quite reasonable. I appreciate the opportunity...granddaughter. I would also like to get to know you better, and find out what happens to me.”

She ignores his personal remark. “We’ll discuss the details of your responsibilities later. Vearden will take you to your new temporary cabin. Get some rest in a real bed.”

“Thank you.”

The vengeful Fifth Divisioner appears out of nowhere, and collapses to the floor.

Leona looks over to see him through the security mirror. “I knew it. I knew it wouldn’t be that easy.” She sighs. “Take him back to hock please.”

The Advancement of Mateo Matic: October 27, 2398

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They didn’t think to have Arcadia build a mental defense for a doctor, and now that she’s pregnant, they don’t want to place her in any danger, or the baby at risk. They need to sedate Meredarchos, so they’re just going to have to do it themselves, and hope not to kill him in the process. This isn’t his body, and the man who owns it may still be salvageable, so they have a responsibility to protect it. Leona flicks the syringe to force the bubbles to the top, then releases a little bit of the sedative to clear them. She finds a vein, and plugs in. He has a black bag over his head, so she can’t try to prompt a response. His vitals show that he’s been put to sleep, though. She checks his restraints for the fourth time, then exits the room.

Leona performs the secret knock on the door to the observation room. “He’s out cold,” she says when Mateo opens it.

Mateo looks back at Kivi and Ramses. “Are you two ready for this?”

They both nod, but don’t reply vocally. Ramses gathers the Insulator of Life and the Livewire, as well as his laptop. Kivi gets behind Andile’s gurney, and follows him through the corridors. Winona takes up the rear to stand guard with her weapon. Mateo and Leona will be watching through the window.

Kivi pulls the bag from their target’s head. “Oh.”

“What? Are you okay?” Ramses gets defensive.

“Yeah, sorry, his eyes are open a little. It’s creepy.”

Ramses shuts the man’s eyelids closed all the way.

“Still creepy.”

“We can put the bag back on,” he suggests.

“No, I can make a stronger connection with physical contact. Get ready.”

“Hold on, I need to calibrate the interface.” Ramses thinks he’s found a way to connect his computer to the Insulator, so he can get a readout of its activity, instead of just having to blindly hope that it’s doing what they want it to do. “Okay, we’re good. It’s up to you now.”

Kivi prepares herself emotionally, then places her hands upon Meredarchos’ temples. She exhales, and focuses her intentions. At first, she visualizes her own mental barrier, but right away, it becomes the real one. Each time she tries this is a little easier than the last. She opens the door at the base of her wall, and stands at the bridge. She stands there with a frown.

Meredarchos and Erlendr are on the other side. They each have a sword to Cheyenne’s throat, having finally caught her while Kivi wasn’t here. “You shall not pass!” Erlendr shouts.

“You have no right to quote those words!” Kivi shouts back.

“Step one foot across that bridge, and we’ll kill her!” Erlendr replies. “If you’re killed in The Matrix, you die here! The body cannot live without the mind!”

“I think we both know that’s not true, not in our world!”

“Walk away, Miss Bristol,” Meredarchos demands, no time for pop culture references from a world that is not his own. “I have no problem with you. I don’t even have a problem with Cheyenne here. She’s just a nuisance at this point.” He’s not shouting, yet Kivi can hear him. This is a shared mental state, not a physical place. Sound doesn’t have to traverse a distance. They’re just exchanging brainwaves.

“One foot!” Erlendr repeats.

Kivi gazes into the abyss, which is more than just a manifestation of the gap between her mind and theirs. It needs to be there, but it doesn’t have to be so wide. The two land masses move towards each other until she’s standing a couple of meters from the other three. She could hop to the other side if need be. “I didn’t take a single step.”

“Can’t argue with that,” Erlendr admits.

“You should not have been able to do that,” Meredarchos says. “I’m the only one in control here.”

He’s lying or he’s wrong. This isn’t his mind. He is an intruder here, just like everyone else. This brain can only be controlled by one man, and even if Kivi can’t find that man, Meredarchos still does not have an advantage here. She can fight back. But she’s not going to do it with thought violence. Kivi puts on her diplomacy hat. “We have a new body prepared for Cheyenne. Let her go, and she won’t bother you anymore.”

“Then we’ll lose our leverage,” Meredarchos contends. “She’s the only thing standing between us and death.”

“What do you care? You’re not really here anyway.”

Meredarchos is silent.

“Oh, you didn’t think we knew that, did you?”

“If you kill this body, you’ll force me back to my home universe. Establishing a new connection will prove difficult, especially if I want to return to this time period. I would rather avoid the hassle.”

“You would rather, but it’s possible to survive.”

“It’s not possible for me,” Erlendr reminds her.

“What do I care?” Kivi asks.

“I too am holding a sword,” Erlendr says.

She shrugs, and removes two swords from behind her back. “So am I. If you can dream it, you can do it. Literally.”

“Two can play that game.” Erlendr lets go of Cheyenne’s neck to pull a hand cannon from behind his own back.

Kivi takes this opportunity to stab the man in the throat. He instinctively reaches up, and takes hold of the blade. Instead of pulling it out, she just reangles it to get better leverage. Once Cheyenne safely ducks away, Kivi pulls Erlendr towards her, and lets him fall into the narrow gap, down into the abyss.

Meredarchos doesn’t take time to mourn his body-buddy. “I’m going to break out of this prison eventually, like I did last time.” He hops over, and grabs Cheyenne, and throws her into the gap.

Kivi moves her physical mouth. “Ramses, now.”

Out in the real world, Ramses flips the switch that activates the circuit that the Livewire is plugged into. Energy surges out of it, passes through the patient’s hand, hopefully picking up Cheyenne’s consciousness in the process. It then continues on down the wire, and enters Andile’s brain. She wakes up. “Chey, is that you?”

“Yes, I thought I was dead.”

“We all did,” Ramses replies.

Kivi comes out of the psychic connection, and turns to the one-way mirror. “Get in here now.”

Winona opens the door for the two of them. Mateo wheels Alt!Mateo’s body into the room. Ramses quickly takes the Livewire, and rearranges it.

“Get her out of here!” Kivi orders.

Mateo grabs Cheyenne’s gurney, and pulls her out of the cell. Andile’s brain is the only one whose head hasn’t been protected against mental intrusion. Arcadia didn’t even feel comfortable doing that much, and Kivi still can’t figure out how to do it herself. He runs off at full speed to get her as far away from here as possible.

“How many consciousnesses do you see in that man’s head?”

“I don’t have time to check,” Ramses replies. “It’s more complicated than just looking for two dots. What do we do? Do we make the transfer, and hope it works?”

Everyone looks to Leona. “Do it. We’ll sort it out later.”

While Ramses gets back to work, Kivi pulls Leona aside. “Something happened in there. They had already caught her, so I was forced to improvise. Erlendr fell into the abyss first. It was before Ramses provided power to the Livewire, so I don’t know where he went, if anywhere. Meredarchos seemed to believe that the abyss was bad, though. Maybe he’s met the true death.”

“We all have barriers,” Leona reasons. “Except for Cheyenne. That wolf may be in sheep’s clothing.” She looks through the door. “Winona, go protect my husband.”

Winona cocks her gun, and runs out.

Leona turns back to Ramses. “Make the transfer. Now.”

Ramses plugs the Livewire back in. Power runs from the wall, down the wire, through the patient, back down the wire, and into Alt!Mateo’s body. Now Cheyenne is in Andile’s body, Meredarchos is in the ill-fated Atl!Mateo’s body, and Erlendr—as long as he didn’t seek refuge in Andile’s body first—is in the Insulator of Life. That’s where he belongs, because he has to eventually get back to the main sequence, and complete a series of events that lead to both good and bad outcomes. It too is fate.

“Did you do what I asked? Did you put the suicide inducer into his brain?”

“Not yet,” Ramses replies. “It’s right here.” He holds up a little device, which he’ll connect to the Livewire for one final transfer to Alt!Mateo’s head. It has been programmed to want one thing, which is to die. When Alt!Mateo’s body is sent back to the moment of death, it will prevent Meredarchos from letting the body fall back into the extraction mirror, and coming back to this reality. This should finally close that loop.

“Leona, come in,” Winona calls through the radio.

“Leona here, go ahead.”

“Cheyenne seems fine, but Mateo is gone. She doesn’t know where he went.”

“I’m right here.” Mateo steps into the room holding a gun. “Everyone out!”

“Matty, what are you doing?”

“Everyone out!” he repeats.

“You’re working with them?”

“Hell no. Now do what I asked, and everything will be fine.”

They do leave the room, and go right to the observation window to watch. “Killing him won’t work,” Leona explains through the intercom.

“It will how I’m doing it.” Mateo takes a bomb out of his bag, and places it on the belly of the man whose mind Meredarchos took over. He sets the timer at thirty seconds, then goes over to the end of the Livewire. He holds it by the metal, instead of the rubber. “Your husband is waiting for you, tied up in the Walton bunker in the woods. I’m sorry you have to watch me die, but my secrets must die with me.” Fax!Mateo plugs it in, and sends his own consciousness into Alt!Mateo’s body. Then the bomb goes off.