Showing posts with label expiation. Show all posts
Showing posts with label expiation. Show all posts

Sunday, August 6, 2017

The Advancement of Mateo Matic: July 24, 2139

“Leona,” Mateo said, “this is Serif.”
“Oh?” she asked, like a mother to a child who’s just brought home that new friend she can tell will be a bad influence.
“Leona,” he repeated, “you met Serif years ago.”
“I did?” she seriously couldn’t remember. “I don’t recall that. Like...at all. Is she part of this...corrupted reality?”
“Well, yeah,” Serif said, “but I’ve been here for longer than that.”
“How long?”
“Since,” Mateo began, trying to remember exactly. He looked to Serif for help.
“2039,” Serif remembered.
“Right,” Mateo said.
“April 15, 2039; I was one of Ulinthra’s guests at the same time you were. In the timeline before Boyce killed Hitler.”
“Of course,” Leona sarcastically agreed.
Mateo sighed. “Oh my God. I’ve been spending this whole time trying to convince people of other people they used to know and love. It was difficult, because Arcadia had removed them from time. But here Serif is standing right in front of you, and you have no clue. Either Arcadia is losing her touch, or it’s just another wrinkle.”
“Well, if we failed to complete Nestor’s expiation, maybe this is part of our consequences,” Serif proposed.
“Not really fair,” Mateo said. “She never said there would be additional ramifications.”
Leona was not super happy about them talking to each other like they were old pals, but that was exactly what they were. Not long after this whole thing got started, Ulinthra had the two of them escorted to her secret base somewhere in East Bumblefork. There they met Serif, another salmon on their exact same pattern. She had been traveling with them ever since. That Leona could forget all of that was just adding salt to an already painful, wide open wound.
While Mateo and Serif were trying to talk things out, Leona was turning her head between them like a tennis match spectator, working the problem in her head. “What of hers am I wearing?”
“What?” Mateo didn’t understand.
She started pointing to her clothes. “I’ve got Lincoln’s belt, and Aura’s engagement ring. What did Serif give me so that I wouldn’t forget her when Arcadia tears her from time? If she’s really always been here, then I should have something.”
They frowned at the sad puppy. “Your ear.”
“What?” She felt her ears with her fingers, finding an earring on one that Serif’s great great grandmother had passed down through the generations. Paige had been given the other.
“I don’t remember this at all.” Her world had been turned upside down.
“It’s okay, love,” Mateo tried to comfort her.
“How could I forget? I am spawn. If she’s here, and I supposedly have her totem on my ears, why can I not remember?”
“Maybe it’s not working,” Mateo suggested, “or Arcadia found a way to alter that.”
“The totems were meant to have sentimental value. Maybe my connection to Leona just...isn’t strong enough?”
“That can’t be true,” Mateo said dismissively. It couldn’t be. “You love each other.”
“We do?” Leona asked.
“Oh yeah, it’s, uh...”
Leona was being impatient. “Mateo.”
“Well...”
“Mateo, are we polyamorous?”
Serif took the reigns. “We are, yes. At least...we were. I guess we won’t be needing the privacy hut tonight.”
“No, probably not,” Mateo agreed. “But we do need sleep. Obviously we’re all tired. Now, I’m not saying you’ll suddenly get your memories back overnight, but we should rest and deal with it in the morning. We shouldn’t try to argue with Arcadia after the day we had.”
“I think that’s a good idea,” Serif said.

In the middle of an awkward breakfast wherein they discovered that none of the other island dwellers could remember Serif either, Arcadia teleported in.
“I hear you’re having some trouble,” she said, impersonating a repairman.
“I’m the only one who can remember Serif,” Mateo complained.
“Uhuh,” was all Arcadia said.
“Did you make a mistake?” Serif asked. “Did you take their memories, but forget to actually take me?
She was reluctant to answer, so she avoided it. Instead, she pointed to three of them. “You, you, and you. Come with me right now.”
“Why is Lincoln going with them? Mario asked.
“And why am I not?” Leona questioned.
Arcadia drew closer to Leona. “This is one of those times when what I say is law, and you questioning that can hurt you real bad. Stay here until I tell you otherwise.”
Leona was not afraid. “Okay.”
Mateo, Serif, Lincoln, and Arcadia all stood in a circle just inside of the treeline. The first three waited for the fourth to say something. They could still see the rest of the group eying them from the fire pit.
Finally, Arcadia spoke, “Lincoln, did you have something to do with this?”
“What?” he asked defensively. “No. Why? How?”
“Where is your art project?”
“Don’t worry about it,” he said with feeble shrug.
Arcadia pinched the bridge of her nose and closed her eyes. “I know what you were doing with that thing. I didn’t put a stop to it, because I was totally all right with it. Kivi’s disappearance from history was not part of my plan, and I was rooting for you, Lincoln, but it looks like you screwed up.
Lincoln looked Serif over head to toe.
“Yeah, she does look a little like her,” Arcadia said, overexaggerating a head nod. “But not quite enough, huh?”
“Well, I was working from memory. I’m not The Artist, ya know. I was hoping to contact him so he could cut the detail for me.”
“Can someone tell me what’s happening?” Mateo implored them. “What does Kivi have to do with all this?”
“When you went back to the Hitler Tribulation, you altered the timeline. Slightly. That expiation both created Angelita...and destroyed Kivi. Mister Rutherford here was trying to remedy the situation.”
“Lincoln?” Mateo asked simply.
“It was meant to be a gift. When she was ready. When I was...done. I was gonna call The Artist to bring the statue to life, so you could have your daughter back.”
Mateo looked to Arcadia. “Is this possible?”
“It’s what he does,” Arcadia confirmed, “our father.”
“He’s your father?” Serif asked.
“He’s our creator,” she corrected. “He can create entire people; souls, minds, even memories. At one time, he and the Curator had a whole crew of people managing the timeline on a metaphysical level. Then they all left. But those jobs still needed doing. Unfortunately, it was literally impossible to recruit anyone else, so Athanaric Fury took his tools, and built me and my siblings out of clay. Then he gave us life, along with the powers we would need to act as a skeleton crew for The Gallery. Then we were thrown out of The Gallery as well, including Fury. He built the body that my brother, Zeferino ended up stealing. That’s why he had so many different powers, because it was Fury’s last attempt at protecting the timeline from people—well, from people like my brother. And my sister. And me.”
Serif was uncomfortable and worried. “Are you saying that Lincoln failed to make a good enough Kivi...and they ended up with me?”
“Sorry, kid. I know that’s not something anyone wants to hear.”
“So I’m not real.”
“Of course you’re real.” Arcadia was confused. “How do you think Leona has your earring? You had a real effect on history, I’m impressed.”
“I wasn’t born, though. I was just...made. Do I even have a brain, or a heart, or skin? Is this skin?” She started pulling at the skin of her own arm.”
“Serif, stop it!” Mateo yelled.
“Why? I’m not a person. Just a big block of...rock! I don’t know what he used, what did you use? Marble? Granite? What species am I?”
“You’re the same species as Kivi was,” Arcadia answered calmly.
“What?”
“Lincoln knew that Fury could give life to the Kivi statue, because he had done it before. I don’t know why, but I kind of think she was supposed to be a gift for you, even then. Lincoln remembers that, so he was trying to repeat it.”
“I don’t know The Artist’s original intentions,” Lincoln added, “but she didn’t have a past either. She was about a month old when you two first met.”
“Well,” Arcadia said. “The first time you met her.”
“What does that mean?”
“Oh yeah, you ran into her on this island. She didn’t know why she was there, so you took her to the Archivist, who reset the timeline far back enough to delete her. I guess she had shown up too early? I dunno, that’s not really my responsibility anymore.”
“Can we get back to me, please?” Serif asked. “What’s going to happen? Are you going to erase me?”
“Do you want me to erase you?”
“Of course not.”
She shrugged. “I don’t really think I need to. I wouldn’t tell the others what you are, though, if you plan on staying. They’re already gonna have a hard enough time accepting you as it is.”
“What can we tell them?” Lincoln wondered.
“Whatever you were gonna tell them before I came here. You have memories of her, right?” she asked Mateo. “And you have your own memories?” she rhetorically asked Serif. “So just go from there. You can say that someone else messed with the timeline, or you can just blame me. It honestly doesn’t matter to me. I just need to know, Lincoln, how you contacted Fury.”
“I didn’t,” Lincoln replied with an honest tone. “I was going to, sure. But I hadn’t made it that far. Like we said, she doesn’t look quite close enough to Kivi.”
“Well, how were you planning to get in touch with him? You don’t have what you need here on Tribulation Island.”
Lincoln just stared at her with his hands in his pockets.
“Oh my God, you were gonna go Bill and Ted on me?”
“What is that?” Mateo asked. They were asking a lot of questions today.
“Retroactive preparation. It’s when you plan to go back in time and do something you can’t do right now. It creates an ontological paradox, which is dangerous as shit.”
“Not if you frame it right, which is something I know how to do,” Lincoln argued.
“Obviously not, or we wouldn’t be in this situation.”
He shook his head. “No, something else is going on here. Maybe I could one day screw this up, but the Artist wouldn’t. There must be a reason. Serif is supposed to exist,” he said before repeating himself directly to her. “Serif, you’re supposed to exist.”
“That’s comforting,” Serif lied.
“Well, no one has been taken out of time today,” Lincoln changed the subject. “Unless you’ve found a way to erase my memories too.”
“No. I was planning on letting you grieve for your loss yesterday. Every single player needed to cross the threshold, Mateo, not just you. I can’t bring Nestor back.”
“We figured,” Mateo said sadly. Through all this drama, they didn’t give themselves the time to be disappointed in themselves for having failed one of the expiations.
“If it’s any consolation, he was a screw up in his own right,” she explained. “His family kept loving him, despite his many mistakes; no one more than his sister, but he never felt like he deserved their forgiveness.”
Mateo nodded. “I can relate.”
Arcadia turned her head like she had heard her name being called. “Oh, I don’t want to be here for this. But good luck.”
“Good luck with what?” What was going on?
“Not even I can stop them from taking you, and I’ve learned not to piss them off.” She disappeared.
“Lincoln, do you have any idea what she’s talking about?” Mateo asked.
“I think maybe that,” Serif said, pointing towards the jungle.
They turned their heads to find a door sticking out of the ground, completely out of place.
“What the hell is that?”
Vearden Haywood opened it from the other side. “Come with me if you want to live,” he said in a thick fake accent. “Nah, I’m just playin’.” After another pause, he added, “but I am gonna need your clothes.”

Sunday, July 30, 2017

The Advancement of Mateo Matic: July 23, 2138

Last year, Arcadia warned Mateo and Leona that they would be better off getting all their sleep in that evening, because the expiation would start immediately. Of course, they heeded her advice, and were in bed before the sun set.
The next day, a little after midnight, they found themselves having been moved. The two of them were now waking up in separate jail cells. There was a third cell near them, but it was completely dark inside. Not even the starlight was shining through. The couple could see each other by torchlight.
“Mateo,” Leona said to him.
What?
“Mateo,” she pressed, a little louder.
I’m here! I don’t understand what we’re supposed to do.
“Mateo! I can’t hear you!”
“Hello?!” Darko’s voice came from the third cell.
Darko?
“What is it?” Leona asked of Mateo. If she couldn’t hear, then she probably had no idea that Darko was with them.
“Leona? Where are you? I can’t see anything.”
She’s right here, but she can’t hear anything.
“Leona, hello?” Darko asked. “It’s completely dark in here, but I can feel engravings on the back wall. They’re numbers. I think it’s a combination.”
Okay, read them to me!
“Did you hear me, Leona!” Darko asked.
I heard you, Darko. Leona can’t hear anything.
“Mateo, what’s going on!” Leona asked, upset.
“Mateo’s here?” Darko asked. “Why isn’t he saying anything?”
What the hell are you talking about? I’ve been trying to talk to you! Okay, Mateo needed to figure this out. There was a huge gap in the communication, and it didn’t make any sense. Leona couldn’t hear, and Darko couldn’t see. This much was obvious, but every time Leona said something, Darko would react to it. Yet neither of them were reacting to what Mateo was saying. Maybe he wasn’t saying anything at all. Leona couldn’t hear, and Darko couldn’t see. That just left...speaking. See no evil, hear no evil, speak no evil. They were each left with a disadvantage. Great, how were they going to get through this one?
“Leona, what’s happening?” Darko yelled after too long in silence.
He would have to play charades with her if anything was going to get done. He reached his arms through the bars, and excitedly pointed towards the third cell, while maintaining eye contact with Leona. He then mouthed the word speak, and waved his hand from his chin to mimic sound coming out of his mouth.
“What am I supposed to say?” Leona asked.
Mateo just gave her the thumbs up, because that was good enough for now.
“You don’t need to say anything,” Darko answered. “I think I’ve figured out the numbers. Should I read them out to you?”
Mateo perked up, waved his hand from his chin again, and mouthed the word yes.
Leona turned her head slightly to the side, a little unsure that she was understanding him right. “Yes!”
“Okay,” Darko began.
Mateo hastily reached through the bars and presented Leona with his combination lock, of which she had none.
Leona nodded that she understood.
Mateo pointed towards Darko.
As Darko read each number out loud, Mateo tried to hold up his fingers so that Leona could see. “Eleven-twenty-four-forty-two-fifty-six-eighty-three!”
Shit! He didn’t have eleven fingers, let alone eighty-three. How could he indicate which two digits belonged in a pair? Not only that, but Mateo wasn’t great with numbers, and had already forgotten most of them. He pointed towards Darko again, and waved his hand in a circle.
“Again,” she requested.
“Okay!” Darko said. “Eleven-twenty-four-forty-two-fifty-six-eighty-three!”
Mateo closed his eyes and tapped the air with his finger, showing that he was doing his best to memorize the numbers. Once he felt he had, he reopened his eyes and looked back to Leona. He stuck one hand through the bars and showed one finger. Then he stuck his other hand out with a second finger.
“One-one,” Leona said out loud.
“No, eleven!” Darko corrected.
Mateo quickly pulled his fingers close together, so that she could get the right idea.
“Eleven,” she said.
“Right, can you not hear me very well?”
Five fingers on his right hand, and three on his left.
“Eight.”
“No,” Darko whined. “Eighty-three.”
Three on his left hand.
“Three.”
Mateo could hear Darko sigh as he was clapping his hands together
“Eighty-three? Okay, understood.”
Mateo nodded. They then continued this procedure until she had all the numbers in her own head. It got easier over time. After they were done, Mateo placed his hands on his combination lock, which he couldn’t actually see from this side of the bars.
“Okay,” she said to him. “We can do this.”
“We can do what?” Darko asked, literally in the dark as to what was going on.
Mateo pointed towards him, then swept his fingers in the air dismissively.
Leona was getting even better at understanding his meanings. “Mateo and I are working on it.”
“Oh, so he is here?”
Mateo placed his hands back in position and waited for Leona. She reached out as well and slowly moved her hands as he was meant to, holding up the international signal for stop when it was time to turn it the other way. Finally, they reached the last number. He heard a click, and some pressure release. As soon as he opened his gate, they were all three apported to a windowless room.
“Can you hear me now?” he asked.
“Oh my God, yes I can,” she replied. “That was infuriating, and frightening.”
“Have we been here the whole time?” Darko asked.
Arcadia’s voice suddenly rang out from the speakers in the corners, “congratulations, players, you successfully completed your first challenge. Aldona’s brother, Nestor was fascinated by this fad called escape rooms. Starting in the early 21st century, these rooms adapted similar video game scenarios to the real world, adding a level of excitement and urgency never experienced before. Over time, these adventures became more elaborate and expansive. Years after the first one appeared, people were no longer tasked with breaking out of a single room, but an entire building. Decades later, these buildings would grow to enormous proportions, allowing contestants time to eat and sleep while still on the clock, which was now measured in days, rather than minutes or hours. Advances in automation and access to resources were providing people with more free time, and less of an obligation to work. They were now free to entertain themselves in new ways. But we have an advantage over the designer of those petty escape buildings that they could only dream of. We have control over time and space. The possibilities are quite literally endless. You won’t be trying to escape a room, so much as you’ll be seeking the prize at the end of the rainbow. Your mission is to break out of this place, and all others after it, until you find the one where your friends live.”
And so that was what they did. They continued questing through room after room, but it wasn’t all there was to it. They had to walk up 328 flights of stairs to get to the top floor of something called an arcological megastructure. They had to solve a critical failure on a space station before life support ran out. In a real escape room, this would be a simulation, but Leona made sure they knew, if they didn’t actually fix this very real problem, they would really, actually, die on the station. After that, they just had to get to the other side of the Grand Canyon, survive the battleground during a short skirmish between two warring nations on an alien planet, and complete a continental scavenger hunt against contestants who were doing it for mere fun. They met up with Aura, Mario, and Lincoln after walking upstream for a couple miles in a creek, thinking that their game was finally over. It wasn’t, though, because then all six of them were thrust into the next challenge together.
Through the fatigue, Mateo remembered that he had asked Arcadia to see Horace and Paige again, to make sure that they were okay. He now knew that these tasks were the means to that end. Unfortunately, they never knew how much further they had to go, or if they would even get through everything. All in all, this was the most taxing and dangerous of the Aldona expiations. It might have been fun if it had last, maybe, a quarter of the time. But the full day just kind of ruined the whole thing. By now, even if they managed to pass it, they wouldn’t have much time with Horace and Paige. As happy as he was for them to have gotten off the island, and away from the expiations, he missed them both. Missing Horace Reaver. Who would’ve thought?
After helping solve the crime at a murder mystery dinner, they were apported to another windowless room. Arcadia’s voice returned, “wow, ya know, you did those first ones pretty well, but then you started slipping. I guess I underestimated how tiring this would make you.”
“Yeah,” Mateo said, barely able to think straight. “You think so?”
“Well, there’s only one left, so you can all calm down. This is a standard room. You have one hour to break out of it. I’ll be here to give you clues, if you need them. Each additional clue beyond three will cost you time, though. If it takes you longer than seventy-five minutes, well...if you look at your watches, you know what happens then.”
They did all know what would happen then. That was the moment of Mateo and Leona’s jump to the future. If they didn’t get through this, they would fail, and Aldona’s brother, Nestor would be lost forever. Things started getting bad pretty quickly. They misunderstood what the most important information on the newspaper clippings was. It took them a long time to figure out the right sequence of flipping the light switches on and off. And they failed to recognize one of the panels on the wall to be part of the game, and not just as a function of the room itself. Arcadia had to give them five clues altogether, providing them with only five minutes to win.
Mateo wandered around, looking for anything they didn’t see before. Darko took the metal bar they used to magnetically retrieve a key down a tube, and used it to start prying one of the chairs bolted to the floor. Lincoln was asleep in the corner from having been the one to last the longest in the stamina challenge earlier that day. Leona and Mario were trying to decipher a combination to a safe, but were having trouble reading Aura’s chicken scratch.
“Got it!” Darko cried. They had a minute left.
This woke Lincoln up from whatever dream he was having. “Gangs aren’t illegal; just the crimes they usually commit!”
“Is there something under there?” Aura asked.
“No, of course not,” Darko answered, wrenching the fourth leg from the floor. “This is not part of the game. Dad, come help me!”
Mario came over, and lifted one side, though he asked, “what are we doing with this?”
“Fast as you can, on three,” Darko said, leading them over to the door.
“You can’t do it,” Leona warned them, “if it’s not part of the game.”
“We need to get through that door,” Mateo said. “This is the only way we have.” He got behind the chair and prepared to help.
“One,” Darko said, swinging it back, and then forward.
“Two,” Mario said as they swung it a second time.
“Three!” they all three hollered in unison, then smashed the chair against the door. It moved, but not enough.
They tried again.
“thirty seconds,” Aura notified.
They tried again.
And again.
And again.
“Seventeen seconds!”
“The chair is too big,” Mateo complained.
“You need to focus the force on its weakest point,” Leona explained reluctantly. “Right at the door knob.”
“Get that fucking chair out of my way!” Mateo ordered.
Mario and Darko complied.
Once they were out of his path, Mateo stepped back, and slammed his shoulder against the door.
“Mateo, stop!” Leona begged.
Mateo hit the door again.
“Five seconds!”
In one last desperate attempt, Mateo pushed himself into the blood rampage, which was an adrenaline flowing technique he had learned from Vearden. He ran straight for the door as fast as he could, with as much power as he could muster. The lock broke, sending him flying through the opening. He caught a glimpse of Horace and Paige’s faces before landing on the sand.
“Did we win?” Serif asked, helping Mateo up. “Did we get through it in time?”
“We’re back on the island,” Mateo said. “I think it’s next year, and I don’t think we won, no.”
Leona walked over from behind them and sized Serif up. “Who the fuck are you?”