Microstory 2313: Earth, January 1, 2025

< > Table of Contents

Generated by Google ImageFX text-to-image AI software, powered by Imagen 3

Dear Readers,

Let me tell you a story. Roughly ten years ago, the scientific community began to take seriously the hypothesis that a Planet 9 existed somewhere beyond the orbit of Neptune. For centuries prior to that, nonscientific theories popularized the dream of a Planet X, but these were largely based on speculation, and a poor understanding of the data. It was only recently that any evidence legitimately supported the idea of a solar model that proposed such a wild explanation for this missing mass. Ten years from now, advances in astronomical observation technology will prove that a celestial body of significant mass does indeed exist, and that it is currently orbiting the sun about 1200 astronomical units away from us. About 108 years later, fusion rockets will be efficient and powerful enough to deploy a manned mission to the newly discovered celestial body, which they had since named Vacuus. Probes had been sent prior to this, at higher velocities due to lighter equipment, and no concern for life support, but they were all lost. No one could tell why, but their hearts were full of wonder, and the right candidates volunteered for what many called a suicide mission. Eighteen years later, the ship arrived at its destination, and began to unravel the mysteries of this cold, distant world. One of the passengers was a young woman whose mother brought her along when she was a baby. Corinthia Sloane always felt that something was missing in her life, and everything fell into place when she learned what everyone she had ever known had been keeping from her this whole time. She had a twin brother who she had never met. But the real problem was...she might never even have the chance now. The following letters comprise their initial correspondences, each one taking around a week to reach its destination, given the time lag imposed by vast interplanetary distances.

Yours fictionally,

Nick Fisherman III

The Advancement of Mateo Matic: June 21, 2473

« < » > Table of Contents

Generated by Google Gemini Advanced text-to-image AI software, powered by Imagen 3

Last year, this ragtag group of random time travelers who didn’t care to have anything to do with each other humored Utari Kiswana, and took a tour of the artificial island that they were on. It was a really interesting place, and they all probably would have enjoyed themselves had they come here on their own, and weren’t being held at this point in spacetime against their wills. There were a ton of activities to do here, like mountain climbing, sailing, and paragliding. There was even a train that just rolled around on a set of circular tracks, where some people apparently lived permanently. After it was over, they were all exhausted. Most of them were asking to just be sent back to where they belonged, which poor Buddy must have actually obliged, but Utari seemed to be in charge now.

A funny thing happened on the way back from dinner. Utari and Buddy wanted to get rooms in one of the main beach hotels for everyone, so they could stay the night, and wake up refreshed in the morning. As Buddy described earlier, dozens of beaches radiated from the island, allowing a lot of residents to have beachfront property. The main part of the island, however, was still surrounded by water, and there were a ton of hotels and housing units there too. They just weren’t quite as immersed in it. It seemed like a nice place to stay, but by the time they got checked in, two of the abductees mysteriously disappeared. Buddy apparently made the attempt to bring them back, but was unable to.

“You were transported to my domain in the future,” he guessed. “You’re here now, and so am I. Basically, my past self was unable to retrieve you, because he would be stealing you from me, and that would not have been okay.”

Mateo looked over at Bhulan and Arqut. “You have been here for a year?”

“It hasn’t been that bad,” Bhulan replied.

“It’s actually been kind of nice to get a break from the ship,” Arqut added. “Though, I would like to see my wife again, so could we be quite quick?”

“Quite quick with what?” Olimpia questioned. “Have the rest of you figured out how to do anything that this asshole is asking of us?”

“Hey, there’s no need for language,” Buddy argued.

“Then how’s anyone gonna understand me?” Olimpia asked combatively.

“We have an idea,” Tauno jumped in. “We’ve been waiting for you two to return before we try to implement it.”

“It’s this.” Utari set her briefcase carefully on the ground, and opened it to retrieve a cable.

“The Livewire?” Mateo questioned.

“You’ve heard of it?” Buddy asked.

“I’ve used it,” he explained. “It caused some problems in the Third Rail, but it also saved lives. That’s what it does, transfers consciousness. Why would we want that?”

“That’s not all it can do,” Utari began. “It can transmit any form of energy, including temporal. We think we can wrap this around our respective wrists, and channel our power into a focal object. That thing might end up with enough power to accomplish what we’re trying.”

Mateo took the Livewire from Utari’s hands, and started wrapping it around his own palms for no particular reason. “I’ve seen a lot of wondrous things. I’m sure it’s nothing compared to what some of you have seen, but I’ve picked up a few things here and there. My best friend, Ramses may be the most knowledgeable person when it comes to temporal energy. Sure, you got your Hokusais and Hogarths...your Team Keshidas and Holly Blues, and even my wife. They’ve made some great things, but I still don’t think they compare to Rambo. He really gets into it. He has worked hard to figure out the fundamentals of time, and the manipulation of it.” He carelessly dropped the wire to the ground. “What you’re suggesting is stupid. Your lemon issue is not there for lack of power. There’s plenty of energy to go around. People with more power than all of us combined have not been able to transport citrus. You’re not gonna get it done with more temporal energy. If anything, you want less. Lemons don’t like time. They tolerate it at a one-to-one ratio, which is why they don’t explode in every grocery store in the world. They only become overloaded when you mess with the balance.”

“So, what’s your suggestion?” Buddy planted his hands on his hip.

Mateo shook his head. “Why did the Buddha’s hand citron go extinct?”

“A lot of things happened,” Buddy said. “Highlights include climate breakdown, wayward pesticides, pests themselves, a lack of customer demand during the rise of genetically modified organisms; particularly dayfruit. In fact, a lot of fruits have become extinct by now when we stopped growing them in favor of more efficient alternatives, not just citrus. Those I could rescue, if I were so inclined.”

Mateo nodded, and approached the man. “You’re a time traveler. Go back in time, and protect the Buddha’s hand. Build a greenhouse, keep it protected. Hire people to maintain it for the last few centuries. Do this the right way; you don’t need magic. Did you ever think of that?”

“Sounds like a lot of work,” Buddy decided after a long beat.

“It is,” Mateo agreed. “Preserving life is work.”

“No.” Tauno picked the Livewire back up, and wrapped it around his wrist before moving on to do the same to Bhulan. “I built the Fourth Quadrant out of raw power that I store in my dick. I can do this. I just need a boost.”

As offended as Bhulan was by Tauno’s crude remark, she didn’t stop him from pulling her into this power-sharing gambit. Arqut let him wrap it around his wrist too, as did Utari and Buddy. They stood there, like the worst basketball team in the league. No one tried to force Mateo and Olimpia to join them, but what else were they gonna do? Buddy and Bhulan were the only people here who could send them home. They might as well humor them again, and give it a shot. He was right, it wasn’t going to work, and hopefully, it wouldn’t instead make things worse either. The two of them huddled up with the group, and closed the Livewire loop. Arqut gave Mateo a wink, which was weird, but okay.

“We connected this room directly to the mountain’s primary fusion chamber,” Utari revealed. “We should not be lacking in electricity.” She took the first end of the wire from Tauno, and shoved it into the wall socket.

They could feel the pulsing energy surge around their wrists. It kept circling the loop, over and over and over again, building as it was continuously fed by the underground fusion reactor. Buddy was smirking as was happening. That was when Mateo realized that they never selected an object to focus the power into. That must have been because it was Buddy. He had chosen himself to be the vessel. He was clearly a megalomaniac, so this should have come as no surprise to them. The real question was whether he would stop at this mission, or move onto the next one after this. What would he do with all this power? The dude wanted some lemons. He was being a jerk about it, but evil was not the word that either of them would use. Utari, however, appeared to have let her hand show. She could turn out to be the real threat. She could be the next Cleanser, or Oaksent. She was smirking even more sinisterly, like she knew something that Buddy didn’t.

That was when Arqut breathed deeply in and out, and flexed his arm muscle. He reached over with his free hand, and cupped his fingers over the wire on his other wrist. The energy stopped circling the group, and instead began to redirect into Arqut. He was taking it. He was taking all of it.

“What are you doing?” Buddy questioned angrily. “What the hell are you doing?”

“Yeah, how are you taking it from us?” Utari pressed.

“It’s all about the entropy, baby,” Arqut answered vaguely, pleased with himself. “Energy tends to flow from a higher concentration to a less ordered state. I’m the least ordered state in the room, dumbasses. I’m not a time traveler. I’m only human.”

Buddy and Utari tried to remove themselves from the circle, but were literally tied up. Bhulan and Tauno were smiling, and it was becoming clear that this was the true plan all along. Had Mateo and Olimpia been here during their interim year, they likely would have been in on it too. There was nothing anyone could do to stop it. Utari kicked the wire out of the socket, but that wasn’t where the energy was coming from anymore. If anything, it helped, because now the temporal energy was free to slide along the wire on its own without competing for space. Only a few seconds later, the other four were noticeably drowsy and dizzy. They couldn’t keep their eyes open. Meanwhile, Arqut was stronger than ever, and the two members of Team Matic were doing fine.

The energy slowed down on its own, and once it was used up, most of the group fell towards their backs. Olimpia managed to catch Bhulan in her arms, but she was still passed out. “How are you two standing?” Arqut asked.

“We’re salmon,” Mateo told him. “We don’t live off of temporal energy. It really only comes to us once a day.”

“Yeah, we need sunlight!” Olimpia agreed cheerfully as she was carrying Bulan to one of the beds. “We’re plants!”

Arqut smiled, and walked over to open the shades as a nice gesture. He then went over to untangle the Livewire from everyone’s arms. “Most temporal objects are illegal on the Extremus. Tauno is a jackass, and we all know we can’t trust these two yahoos. Bhulan already told me that she has a knack for trying to destroy these things. So I think the only logical answer is to give it to you.”

“What happens to them?” Mateo nodded his head towards the people on the floor.

“I don’t care what happens to Utari. There is a way for me to tether myself to the ship when I get back home, and Bhulan will find a similar solution in the Constant, where she belongs. Tauno has all sorts of friends, I’m sure he can ask one of them for protection from Buddy. That’s why you need this. It could be your version of a solution.” Arqut handed the wire to Mateo. “I hope your friend, Ramses is as resourceful as you make him sound.”

“How do we get home?” Olimpia asked. “Do you have all their powers now?”

“I have their power,” Arqut clarified. “Not their powers. Bhulan’s will replenish itself eventually, and she’s already agreed to send me back to the past. As for you, I just gave you what you need. You take care.”

« < » > Table of Contents

Orthogradient: Azura and the Transit Army (Part I)

< > Entire Story

Generated by Google Gemini Advanced text-to-image AI software, powered by Imagen 2

Azura of Ansutah ran towards the crowd that was forming to overwhelm her ward, Treasure, Treasure’s bodyguard, Quino, and the native historian whose name she couldn’t recall at the moment. Before she could get close enough to help, Treasure screamed, and disappeared. She was a natural-born bulk traveler, who could travel to any nearby parallel universe, and as the only one here who was able to power the Transit, her disappearance came as a great loss. Azura looked around in case Treasure came back. Bulk travel inherently meant time travel, and there was no reason why she couldn’t spend countless years elsewhere, and still return to this very moment. But she didn’t, and she might never. Azura and her new makeshift crew might have to get out of this predicament on their own. Before the bewildered mob found her too, she ran off, and ran back to her spacetrain.

The man who was quickly becoming her second in command greeted her at the entrance. “Where are they?” Kaolin questioned.

“They’re gone. She screamed,” Azura answered.

“We thought we heard that.”

“Yeah.” She walked past him, and headed down the car.

“Well, is she coming back?”

“Doesn’t look like it,” she answered.

“How the hell are we gonna get out of here?”

They had power, they just had no way to escape this brane, and travel to another. This thing was built with the ability to process the bulk energy required to perform the operation, but it was intentionally stripped of some vital components, by someone who didn’t want the machine to fall into the wrong hands. It was not yet clear whether theirs were the right hands, but they were the only ones here at the moment. Azura reached for the nearest intercom. “Harbinger crew of the Transit, and founding members of the Transit Army, we are trapped in this brane. Our power source was forced to flee a potentially deadly situation without us. We have to move on under the assumption that she will never return. Her destiny is taking her on a different vector. But all is not lost. The engineers have been working on a contingency. They’ll need a little time to complete diagnostics, I believe, but we will get out of here...eventually. For now, please pilot us off of this planet. I at least want to get away from the natives. Once we’re in space, I’ll lead an official briefing for details. Thank you.” She hung up.

“What’s the contingency?” Kaolin asked.

Azura took a breath. “Time,” was all she said.

As explained, the Transit wasn’t designed to need Treasure Hawthorne in order to work. But without all those missing parts, it was not capable of accumulating enough energy to make even one trip in any reasonable amount of time. Fortunately, time was relative, and they had untold amounts of it, as long as they took precautions. The crew was placed in stasis while the ship wandered through space. Bulk energy was constantly popping into existence out of nowhere. This was, in fact, what explained the persistent expansion of the universe. With the right equipment, the energy released during these infinitesimally small events could be harnessed and stored.

After thousands of years of waiting, which only felt like seconds to everyone who was asleep, they finally had enough to make one jump. They had to make it count. Unfortunately, they had already exhausted their two best prospects for some real sustainable power. She was going to have to resort to the third. She got back on the horn to make another announcement. Most of the crew was in the same car as her already. “As you’ve already learned, I am a hybrid, made of human DNA, as well as Maramon. It explains why my skin is so pale, but real Maramon aren’t just pale, they’re white. They’re very white. The majority of my traits from that side of the experiment are internal, such as my physical resilience, and virtual immortality. The only Maramon I’ve personally met already knew what I was, for they were part of the program that genetically engineered me and my brothers and sisters. So I’m not sure whether a regular Maramon would recognize what I am, nor what that would mean for their impression of me. They may treat me as one of their own, or an abomination, or anything in between.

“My creators provided me with certain data regarding my world’s history, as well as their adventures throughout the bulkverse, but I don’t have the coordinates for every single brane they’ve ever recorded. I really only have one left, and it’s populated by Maramon. Their mission was to log new worlds, and move on, so the best one could be chosen for future settlement, but they decided to just take it for themselves. This is a last ditch resort. Our one fusion reactor that we stole has helped, but it is not enough. The time we spent on stasis will help us at least escape this universe, but we won’t be able to go anywhere else. Providence might not help us, and they may take the Transit for themselves. Unfortunately, it’s our only option. Anyone who wants to take their chances where we already are may leave in one of the pump shuttles that we discovered. For those of you who don’t know, they run on bulk energy too. It’s not enough to pierce the membrane, but it can jump to just about anywhere in the universe near-instantaneously. We’ll be crossing over to Providenciaverse soon, so if you’re leaving, let me know now.”

No one left, so Azura ordered that they use the last of their main power reserves to cycle up to lightspeed and pierce the membrane. The way the Transit was designed, it should be able to refuel while in the outer bulk by absorbing bulk energy through specialized ramscoops. Unfortunately, most of these were removed by the man who originally stole the machine. They either needed to be replaced eventually, or they would keep having to find other sources of power from the likes of the people they were on the way to see now. The journey this time took two weeks to reach their destination. To avoid being detected—at least right away—they entered the brane far from where Azura predicted the Maramon would have settled the solar system. She planned on going the rest of the way on one of the pump shuttles. These were large enough for a passenger load of around 24 people, but that number would shrink with gear, and other equipment, depending on the mission. The interior could be reconfigured as needed. She was intending to go on the away mission herself, but that was not possible. They found themselves coming through right next to a local ship. It was only about 40,000 kilometers away; more than close enough to be picked up on sensors.

They reached out immediately. “Unidentified operator of the Transit, this is the Providence Mining Explorer Denojuge, please respond.”

Azura cleared her throat. “PME Denojuge, this is Azura of the First Transit Army. We’ve come seeking power sources. Our siphon array was removed, so we require alternatives. Anything you have would be quite helpful. We’re not here to cause trouble. I was genetically engineered and raised by a secret sect of Maramon who were originally formed to protect your location from the general population, and the government. Whether you help us or not, we will not betray that directive.”

“Relax, half-breed, we’re not worried about being discovered anymore.” Half-breed. They knew who she was. “Prepare to be boarded peaceably.”

“Do we do that?” Kaolin questioned. “Do we accept them?”

“We’re stuck here,” Azura began. “Waiting in stasis for thousands of years isn’t going to work this time. They know how to find us, and they will find us eventually if we try to run. Yes, we do this peaceably, like she said.”

They synced flight paths, then the Denojuge connected to the docking car. It was no surprise that they used compatible technologies, since the Providentials originally came here through the Crossover, which was designed by the same team as the Transit. Captain Ouheliydi led a boarding party in, and down the cars to meet Azura and her people halfway. She nodded at them respectfully. “We hear great things of the Transit Army. I must say, there are fewer of you than we imagined.”

“This marks the beginning of it,” Azura explained. “We’ve not yet recruited.”

“We guessed as much,” Ouheliydi said. “Obviously, you find some way to repair this thing, or you would not become multiversal legends in your future.”

“I suppose that’s true,” Azura agreed.

Ouheliydi sized up the first members of the army. “Verteans. The records do not explicitly state that they were the first, but the implication is that they were from the Biverse. I suppose it’s half true. Anyway, we have what you need.” She snapped her fingers at a masked soldier behind her. He handed Azura a metallic cylinder.

It proved to be heavier than Azura expected. She was stronger than the average human, but since her outside had to appear fully human in order to blend in, she couldn’t be as strong as a full Maramon. She had not seen anyone on that side of her ancestry in a long time, and forgot how much stronger they were.

“Apologies,” Ouheliydi said. “We forget how much weaker you are.”

“I understand,” Azura said as Kaolin was helping her stand up straight. She was capable of holding it on her own, but she had him open it for her. Inside was one of the longest coils in the multiverse. It had to be in order to taper down from a millimeter to an angstrom. “An atomic lance.”

Ouheliydi smiled. “You’re welcome.”

“We appreciate the sentiment,” Azura replied, “however most of our lances are functioning within normal parameters. It’s our aether siphon array that is missing.”

“Yes, well,” Ouheliydi began, “my people are strong, but not that strong. We have that for you as well, but automators will have to affix it to the front for us. It’s being couriered from the inner system as we speak.”

Azura narrowed her eyes, and looked down at the lance coil. “How much is this going to cost us?”

Ouheliydi smiled again. “Three cars.”

“We can’t remove three cars from the Transit,” Azura contended. “We need them. As you know, this machine is paramount in the war against the Ochivari.”

“You misunderstand,” Ouheliydi said. “We’re not asking for you to remove them. We’re asking for you to integrate a team of elites into the three cars. We’re asking to join the war as your first recruits.”

Azura was surprised by this. Obviously the whole point was to recruit for the impending war, but she had spent all this time just trying to get the Transit to work in the first place that she hadn’t been able to devote any bandwidth to that aspect. Who would she ask to join, how would she know who might agree to it, and how was she going to find them? She was able to travel to the last few universes because she had specifically memorized their locations. She wasn’t even supposed to do this, but every day while growing up, once she was finished with her studies, she would take it upon herself to conduct some unauthorized independent research. She could also get to the other universes that her brothers and sisters were dispatched to, but only one other beyond that. Probably her first stop once this machine was fully operational would be to Treasure’s universe, where a woman lived who could help them. She was not planning to recruit anyone until then. But if this was the price, could she say no? “I don’t know about this. Yes, I’ll need an army, but... Hold on, I need to ask, do you know who Thack Natalie Collins is?”

“No,” Ouheliydi answered.

“She’s a psychic who can witness events throughout the bulk. She could be listening to this conversation right now. If I’m going to do this; if I’m going to build this army, I need to be in her good graces, and she may have her own recruitment plans, which may or may not include you. I honestly don’t know, but I don’t want to upset her before I even meet her. You understand.”

Ouheliydi nodded. “No recruitment, no aether siphons. That’s the deal. This is not a negotiation. Why do you think we have this technology? We chose to stay in this universe, and let our brethren take the Crossover back on mission. We’ve never seen the Transit before. We don’t use bulk energy to power our ships. So why did we build them? For you. We didn’t know that you would be coming. We didn’t know that it would be you specifically. But we hoped, and we’ve been preparing for decades. The Ochivari already came here, and we fought them off, but we suffered losses. The only thing we regret now is not getting a single Providential out of here during the Ochivari’s retreat, who could have sought further retaliation for us. We probably want blood more than you. We’re not letting you go without us, so you have to decide whether this Thack lady is more important to you than skilled fighters. I may not know much about what’s out there, but I know that she’s not the only person who can help you recruit. Statistics don’t allow it. But there is no one like our elites. No one. They have been training for this for their whole lives, I don’t know if you know this, but we’re not immortal here. The proper physics forced our ancestors to give it up. We die of old age, just like humans. So time is valuable, and we’re not going to waste it like our ancestors’ ancestors did.”

Azura sighed and looked back at her own crew. None of them appeared to be against this idea, though to be fair, the only Maramon they had ever encountered before was herself, and she was only half. The Ochivari were the true bulkverse enemies, but make no mistake, Maramon could not be trusted either. That was why she ignored her initial mission, and tried to live her best life in Universum Originalis. Still, this was an impenetrable ultimatum. They were at these people’s mercy. But maybe she had one card to play. Maybe this was a negotiation. “One car.”

“Two.”

Azura nodded with a sigh. “Two.” She reached out for a handshake to seal the deal. “Welcome to the Transit Army.”

Ouheliydi reached back and shook it as she laughed. “No. You...welcome to the Transit Army.”

< > Entire Story

The Advancement of Mateo Matic: May 11, 2432

« < » > Table of Contents

Generated by Google Workspace Labs text-to-image Duet AI software

The next stop on their magical mystery tour of the Goldilocks Corridor was Ex-371. For the most part, the reason it was called a corridor was because the inhabited star systems were roughly in a straight line. This one was a little more out of the way. It was less than a light year away from Ex-548, which was why their ship managed to get there in time for them to return to the timestream, but it was three light years away from the next world after that. Once they left here, they would be spending a little time cooped up with nowhere to land. That shouldn’t be a problem. Depending on what resources they could find here, they were considering pushing their next pit stop even further so that Ramses would have time to build them a better vessel. They needed to investigate this world to find out whether that was a viable option. If the locals decided to attack them with missiles, or cannonballs, or whatever they had here, it might not work out that way. The map of the empire only showed them which planets were inhabited, and where they were in relation to each other. It didn’t say anything about what they were like, and even if it did, the data was already fairly outdated.

“One town?” Leona asked.

“Only the one,” Ramses confirmed. “Based on the energy readings I’m getting, they’re fusion powered, which suggests 2030s-level technology, but their architecture and layout better resemble something out of the 20th century. I think they live simplier than they need to. They have cars. They’re electric. I doubt this planet came loaded with fossil fuels. The rest of it is barren.”

“It looks like Oaksent focused primarily on atmosphere when geoengineering his slave worlds,” Olimpia guessed. “He didn’t put too much effort into any greenery.”

“He didn’t put no effort into it, though,” Leona responded. “He just prioritized some worlds over others. I saw a squirrel on Ex-275. It wasn’t just squirrel-like. It was a squirrel. Anyway, Rambo, does any building down there strike you as a City Hall, or something like that?”

He pointed. “This coin-shaped building right here. It’s unlike any of the others, and it’s right in the center.”

“All right.” Leona cleared her throat as she was holding up her tablet, just a little worried about how the team was going to react to this. “We’re starting a schedule. I hope that’s okay. I’ve assigned Vitalie and Ramses to the Vitalie!371 search. This time, I have babysitting duties on the ship, and I’ll do it alone. Everyone else will go check out that building.” They might obviously realize later that it wasn’t practical to adhere to a duty rotation when the nature of certain worlds necessitated the division of labor to be distributed in a particular way, but for now, it seemed like the most fair way to do it. No one wanted to have to stay up in orbit, but someone had to. Any given world could be hiding secret technology that could ultimately trap them there, or worse.

“That sounds good,” Mateo replied. “Did you think we wouldn’t like this?”

“I don’t know.” The truth was, she still wasn’t comfortable barking orders at people, except in an emergency. When they were in danger, and-or trying to fix a problem, it made sense to her, but just handing out responsibilities like she was middle management in an office was a little weird. It probably never wouldn’t be.

He gave her a kiss on the cheek, and stole the tablet from her hands while he said, “we got this.” He looked over the upcoming schedule. “I couldn’t help but notice that you place yourself up here more than you should. I’m getting better at pattern recognition. Why are you always alone when you do it?”

“Well, I can handle it alone.” She tried to shrug, but it wasn’t convincing.

“So can Ramses, and he’s always with someone else.”

Ramses chuckled. “This wasn’t a bad idea, but let’s all work on it together later, okay? We’ll have plenty of time to worry about it on our way to Ex-586. It’s fine for today, though.” He offered his hooked elbow. “Shall we go, Vitalie!324?”

She took his arm as if they were in a courtship, and they disappeared together.

“Keep in touch, love.” Mateo gave Leona another kiss on the cheek, and the teleported down to the surface, right in front of the entrance to the building. No one was around to see it, except for the receptionist and security guard inside, neither of whom were looking up at the time.

They opened the doors, and started to walk towards the front desk. The receptionist perked up, and stared at them. “It’s them.” He slapped the guard on the shoulder. Hey, it’s them!”

The bored guard was writing something down, or maybe just doodling. “Huh? What? Oh my God, it’s the Matics. Hey, can we get a picture?”

“Of us?” Mateo questioned.

“With you,” she clarified.

“Umm...okay?”

The guard and receptionist turned around to face the inside of the building. The guard held the camera up, and snapped the photo. It wasn’t a phone, so she had to turn it around, and check it with the digital viewer. Oh no, Miss Sangster didn’t get all the way. Could you scootch in more, and try again?”

“Sure,” Olimpia agreed.

They took a second one.

“Ah, man,” the receptionist said with a big smile. “That’s great, thanks. You go ahead through the gates. I’ll open them for you.”

The guard met them on the other side of the optical turnstile. She pulled up her pants a little since her belt was a little heavy on the accessories. “I’ll escort you down to the main lab.”

“Pardon, but may we ask, what exactly do you do here?”

“Oh, I just help greet people when they come in in the mornings, and say farewell to them at the end of the day,” she explained. “The job is pretty easy, we don’t have a problem with people trying to break in, or cause other issues. But theoretically, I would help with that. You’re the only ones who have come in who don’t work here, besides a few people’s spouses who do other things around town. They like to have lunch in our cafeteria, because it’s the best food in the world. I mean that literally. Do you eat? Are you...robots?” She was clearly concerned that she was offending them.

“No,” Marie replied. “Yes, we eat, but we probably won’t need anything for another few days.”

“I understand. Well, it’s back through those doors, if you need it.” She never did answer what the purpose of this building was, whether it was because she didn’t know, or it wasn’t her place to say, or because she didn’t realize that they were never asking about her job specifically. “Okay. Here’s the main lab,” she said after a few minutes of walking. “I’m not allowed to go in unless it’s an emergency.” She pantomimed tipping her hat at them before realizing her mistake, and trying to brush off the awkwardness. “Okay. Bye.” She swiped her access card, and held the door open for them. I love you, Mateo thought he heard her whisper as they were stepping through the door.

They were in a wide expanse, wider than was presumably needed for what they were building here. A football pitch away, they could see the unmistakable design of a machine that they had used many times before. It was missing two walls, and as they drew nearer, they could see some other flaws, but this was definitely a Nexus. “Umm...”

Angela and Marie exchanged a look. “We’ll manage the ship,” one of them said.

“I’ll switch places with Ram,” Olimpia volunteered.

All three ladies disappeared to soon be replaced by Ramses and Leona. Wow, her duty roster was already not working for them. A woman in a pantsuit jogged up to them. “Sorry, I meant to meet you out the doors. You just came through so quick. I thought maybe they would make you badges, since that’s protocol. But, you know, it’s fine. Hi, my name is Ex-371-JM6824.”

Mateo balked. “That’s...” That wasn’t a name. It was a number. She didn’t have a name? Wait, had anyone they had met here ever had a real name? They never bothered to ask, did they? Woof, that was not very nice of them.

She eagerly awaited her response, before guessing what was stopping them. “Oh, ha. We don’t have names like you, we just have numbers. Exin Empire, planet three-seven-one, region JM, resident number six thousand, eight hundred and twenty-four. Of course, we only have one region, but...”

“So there can only be ten thousand people on this world at any one time?” Leona calculated.

“No,” she answered. “We just share names. I’m sure you’re not the only, uhh...you might be the only one, but—let’s see—Angela Walton? That’s pretty common, isn’t it?” That was true enough. Though, how would she know what was and wasn’t common on Earth? This was such an isolated part of the galaxy, and their knowledge appeared to be deliberately restricted.

“Right. So, you’re building a Nexus?”

6824 nodded and sighed. “We’re certainly trying to. I don’t suppose you’ll help.”

“Sorry,” Leona said.

“That’s okay. We have the plans, it’s just...”

“Not as easy as you would think?”

“Right? It’s so detailed, and the alloys have to be mixed perfectly. This is taking us a lot longer than we hoped. But we’ll get there. It’s only our second attempt.”

“What went wrong with the first one?” Ramses asked.

She lifted a device to her lips. “Switch on the lights to sector V-26.” The loud pounding sound of harsh lights flipped on in the back corner, revealing a second Nexus building, this one not missing any sides, though they couldn’t see how completed the interior was. “It’s totally finished. Or rather, we thought it was. It powers up, drawing vacuum energy from wherever that comes from. We can even get objects to dematerialize and then rematerialize. It just doesn’t go anywhere. We can’t access the network, and we have no idea why.”

“Could we see it?” Leona asked her.

6824 presented the finished Nexus to her like a gameshow model, prompting Leona and Ramses to teleport away. Meanwhile, Mateo offered her a hand. She took it tentatively, and then they followed.

“Venus, are you there?”

No response.

“Venus Opsocor, this is your favorite idiot, Leona Matic. Please respond.”

You’re not my favorite, Venus contended.

“Gotcha. Now I know you’re here. Could you tell me why this Nexus has not been assigned a term sequence?”

They’ve not asked, Venus explained. They have to submit a request.

“That wasn’t in the plans,” 6824 argued.

It was implied.

“Can I do that now?” 6824 requested.

“Ignore that,” Leona said quickly. She frowned at the woman. “I don’t know you. Maybe you deserve a Nexus. Maybe everyone in the Corridor does. But I know that Bronach Oaksent does not, and I know that you’re building this for him. Am I right? My guess is the entire purpose of this world has been devoted to getting on the network.”

“It has not always been our purpose,” 6824 countered. “We’re a research town. We’re not the only one responsible for scientific progress, but we are always dedicated to massive undertakings. Our last one before this was the antistar containment rings.”

“What will happen to you if you fail to get on the network?” Mateo asked.

6824 frowned. “We’ll be killed.”

She’s lying.

“Thanks, Oppie,” Leona said gratefully.

“Okay, we won’t,” 6824 admitted apologetically. “There is no time limit to our progress. He doesn’t even come check up on us. He just waits for us to call him. I’ve never called him. The rings were before my time.”

“So you just keep working on it,” Mateo reasoned, “and you can never fail. There’s no risk to you?”

“I suppose not. He has too many other concerns. There’s a lot going on in the empire at any one time.”

“How are the numbers determined?” Ramses jumped in, changing the subject. “This world is Ex-371. Where does that come from? Don’t tell me that it’s random.”

“It’s not random,” 6824 said.

“So, what’s the pattern?”

She didn’t say anything.

“Are you declining to answer, or is it random, but he asked you not to say that, so you can’t answer at all?” Mateo pressed.

She still didn’t say anything, but her expression gave everything away. It was as they thought; totally random. Oaksent seeded life on these planets to be his playthings, and like all children, he eventually gets tired of playing with some of them. They were worth very little thought, even when they were otherwise important to him.

Olimpia suddenly teleported to them. “I’ve always liked the name Floriana. How about Floriana Waltz.”

“I’m sorry?” 6824 was really confused.

“You deserve a name. Everyone deserves a real name. Including your planet. So I would like to start an exponential chain. I’ll give you a name, and then you give a few other people names, and eventually everyone will have their own. Just as it should be. Then together, you can come up with a name for your planet. How does that sound?”

“Hm, I think I like it too,” Floriana agreed.

« < » > Table of Contents

The Advancement of Mateo Matic: March 17, 2399

« < » > Table of Contents

Generated by Canva text-to-image AI software

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

“Why’s that?”

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

“Yeah. Kind of looks like an organ.”

“It’s part of a cooling system.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The Advancement of Mateo Matic: March 16, 2399

« < » > Table of Contents

Generated by Canva text-to-image AI software

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

A girl snakes her way forward.

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

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

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

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

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

The Advancement of Mateo Matic: February 3, 2399

« < » > Table of Contents

Leona is in her office, doing her multitasking thing, but this time, she’s not trying to steal from the world governments. She’s only trying to help by making this the best planetary defense system in six realities. Right now, the biggest issue is power generation. It doesn’t matter how fast they build all these fantastic structures, producing and storing energy takes time. You can always cultivate more of it with more time. Aldona is an expert in antimatter production, which is a field of research that Leona knows relatively little about. The AOC runs on the stuff. She knows how to handle the storage pods, load them, and maintain the equipment. But she’s never had to make the antiparticles herself. She’s never even seen a power plant before.

Antimatter is, as the name would suggest, and to put it simply, the opposite of matter. When a particle and antiparticle meet, they annihilate each other. Since the universe is made of matter, there’s unsurprisingly not enough of the other kind around. It doesn’t last long; it can’t. It will take a culture decades to figure out how to do it, and that’s after decades of using other, completely unrelated power sources, like fossil fuels and renewables. It’s extremely powerful in small quantities, but requires a great deal of infrastructure. Aldona can’t figure out how to make it happen in time, which is a problem. Nuclear fusion is good enough for a defense system that doesn’t have to do anything, but once a serious force tests it, that whole system could fall apart. If an enemy were to bombard their weakest link with fodder, that part of the grid would run out of juice quickly, like the health bar for a video game character who’s underwater.

“What about the Fourth Quadrant?” Leona asks.

“We’re working closely with them,” Aldona answers. They’re in less danger, because the Kansas City bubble is virtually impenetrable on its own, and there’s a way to evacuate the other islands into it, but we’re still going to help.”

“No, I’m talking about power. Antimatter is better than fusion, but what’s better than antimatter?”

“Uhh...a blackhole drive?”

“In a way, yes, but you don’t need to capture a black hole, not when you’re one of us,” Leona says.

“I’m sorry, I don’t follow.”

“Temporal energy,” Leona explains. “It’s what powers the Novus Metro in the Fourth Quadrant. At least, it did at one point. Time moves at a different speed as the main sequence, so they steal the energy that the discrepancy releases, like static from your socks on the carpet. We can use that, instead of half-assing the construction of antimatter plants, just to get them completed in time.”

“Are you feeling okay?” Aldona questions. “You look—forgive me—exhausted.”

She is exhausted, but there is nothing she can do to change that. Too many people are involved; she can’t just do whatever she wants. She’s never been responsible for an entire world. All those people, and more, are relying on her to make this happen. “That’s not the point, I’m not making this up. Let me speak to someone in Novus Metro.”

“I’ll see what I can do, but this goes beyond my understanding. What would you even call something like that?”

“I believe they ended up going with temporal dynamo.”

The Advancement of Mateo Matic: October 23, 2398

« < » > Table of Contents

Leona has been at a retreat for the last five days since she was forced to accidentally kill Solomon Powers, the star of the hit talk show, Balance of Power. She didn’t technically have to kill him, but she lost control, and hit him too hard against the side of the head during their fight, and that was that. Now she’s in control of a broadcast program that she doesn’t want. They have reportedly been running repeats until she comes back out the woodwork, and gives them direction, which she’s not interested in doing. She certainly doesn’t want to host it. She just wants to go back to the way things were before, whatever that means. Winona has her tucked away on a special patch of land that serves both as the training grounds for intelligence department recruits, and a safe haven for furloughed and retired operatives, officers, and agents.

It’s been nice, but it’s time to leave. Her people need her, especially Mateo and Ramses, who will be returning from the Facsimile dimension in a couple of days. “Wait,” Winona says after Leona explains as much.

“Wait for what?” Leona asks.

“Ugh, I was hoping you would stay at least one more day, so we could clean it up for you. It’s ready to fly, though, and I suppose that’s what counts.”

“What’s ready to fly?”

“Come with me.” Winona leads her across the ranch, into one of the hangars. There’s only one aircraft there at the moment. It looks strikingly similar to The Olimpia.

A man is looking it over, and tapping on his tablet. “Oh, I thought we had until tomorrow. I’m so sorry, sir, I must have screwed up somewhere.”

“You didn’t,” Winona assures him. “She’s decided to leave early. I had to move up the presentation. Agent Matic, this is yours. We heard what happened to your last one.”

The engineer nods. “Same overall dimensions as your old model, but it sports a more streamlined and accommodating interior. More private lofts, no cubbies. Less room in the cockpit to leave more space for everything else, but that’s okay, because more systems are automated than ever before.” He pauses while Leona takes a quick look at the inside. “It’s also vacuum compliant.”

“It can launch into space?” Leona questions.

“It can self-propel from a fusion reactor,” the engineer clarifies. “It has to be launched as a payload on something else, though. Apparently you have your own special engine too? Mr. Abdulrashid left us in the dark for that part of the design.”

“Ramses knows about this?”

“He asked for an upgrade,” Winona reveals. “He’s been planning this for a while.

He always has a lot of irons in the fire. Leona nods at it. All she can think is how much Heath would like this. She didn’t kill him, but she is responsible for it. She feels responsible for everything. Being the captain is great until you count up all the pain it’s caused. She should step down and disappear. Wouldn’t everyone be happier?

“What do you think?” the engineer asks, proud of his work. “We still need to clean it, but it’s sky-worthy, and space-worthy. And subaquatic-worthy, and—”

“I love it. Thank you.”

“What are you gonna name it?” Winona asks. “Not the Olimpia again, right?”

“That’s not my call. My team needs to become more of a democracy.”

The Advancement of Mateo Matic: October 18, 2398

« < » > Table of Contents

Leona pulls up to the building, and checks the text message again. Yes, this is the right address. It’s a news station; cable news, it appears. She’s sure she should recognize it—it’s probably really famous—but she’s found it hard to stomach these people’s ideas of journalistic integrity. Why would Winona summon her here? This is fishy. Ah, she may as well go in and check it out. It’s not an abandoned warehouse, after all, so if it’s another blacksite, there sure are a lot of cars in the parking lot. She gets out, and enters through the front door. The desk attendant asks for her name, and when she gives it, he hands her a badge. It already has her face on it. Maybe it is a government building, and the news station thing is just a front. He pulls out a map of the interior, and draws a pathway from this location to the greenroom, where she’s apparently supposed to go. She badges herself in, and heads off.

Winona is sitting on a couch in the greenroom, tapping on her phone. She holds one finger up, and keeps tapping with the other hand. She smiles up at Leona when she’s done. “Thank you for coming. Welcome to New York.”

“Why am I here, Honeycutt?”

Winona puts her phone away. “The day we launched the ship, did you launch something else? Or was there a payload in our rocket that we weren’t told about? I’m not mad, I just need to know before I go on.”

“Go on what?”

Winona doesn’t answer.

“You’re going on TV.”

“Someone has to answer for the launch. I’ve been on my damage control tour. Again, I’m not mad. We were going to send that thing into space sooner or later, we just weren’t planning on having Miss Walton or the kids on board. This particular show is particularly important, because of the other guest.”

“Who is the other guest?”

“The lead engineer for the Snowglobe Collective.” So the sinister organization exists in this reality too. That could mean that someone is purposely matching history, like with the War Memorial, or it’s actually the same company that spans multiple realities. “Well, he’s not really the lead engineer. He’s more the mouthpiece, but he’s going to use science to show how irresponsible we were.”

“They’re the ones who own the satellite,” Leona guesses.

“So you did launch something else? Did you attack the satellite on purpose? Were you targeting them?”

“It was a coincidence that had nothing to do with them,” Leona tries to explain. “We needed to orbit Earth to find Meredarchos and Erlendr. We didn’t have time to build and launch our own so Mateo...”

“So Mateo what?” Winona prods.

“He teleported up there.”

Winona nods. “Because of course you people can breathe in space.”

“It’s complicated.”

She sighs. “It always is.” She removes a holstered gun from her bag, and hands it to Leona. “Here’s your sidearm.”

“Mine?”

She jiggles the gun. “Yeah, you’re my bodyguard.”

“Since when?” Leona questions.

“Since that’s how I got you into the station. Don’t worry, it’s not just a cover. I need you to actually protect me. This is a crime hole.”

“I don’t know what that is.”

“It’s a special place where certain crimes are legal as long as they’re justified in the eyes of the entity that dug the hole, i.e. the guy who owns it.”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“The mouthpiece out there. We’re going to have a debate. If I lose, has the right to kill me. You cost his company hundreds of billions of dollars in potential revenue from their research investment.” There’s that high inflation again.

“You brought me here knowing that I would be trapped.”

“If I win, you can kill him.”

“I don’t want to kill him.”

“You won’t have to. It’ll be our prerogative. You’re my champion. He has his own, who I’m sure is not as good as you.”

Leona turns away from the gun. “I’m not trained on firearms.”

Winona reaches into her jacket, and pulls a stick from her breast pocket. She swings it down to telescope it open.

Leona rolls her eyes, and takes it from her. “That’ll work.”

“Thank you.”

“Is there a lawbook, or something here?”

Winona beams a file to her device. “What are you thinking?”

“I’m going to send it to my loophole expert.”

When called, the two of them leave the greenroom. Leona watches from side stage as Winona takes her place on one side of a table. A well-dressed man sits down on the other, while the host, Solomon Powers sits at the head. He gives his opening spiel to the audience, and then prompts the debate.

The lead engineer, a Mr. Jacey Plaskett throws a graphic to the space above his shoulder, not just in chroma key, but as a hologram. “What you’re looking at here is the last known location of our research satellite before it was attacked on the tenth of October. As you can see, at 17:56, the satellite begins a decaying orbit. It should have been able to stay up there for three years, which would be more than enough time for us to course correct, but roughly 36 hours later, we lost contact with it entirely. Not even the world’s greatest orbital tracker has any idea where it is. In between the time of the mysterious attacked, and the loss of signal, that woman right across from me launched an unsanctioned, unworthy, un-American fusion-powered rocketship from the weirdest longitudinal parallel imaginable in Kansas!”

“It’s in Missouri, actually. And how was it un-American?” Winona questions him.

“We have reason to believe that you employed scientists from Croatia.” He says that word with such disdain. “I can’t think of a country worse than it, besides the other baby-killing nations.”

“We’re not here to debate the morality of medical abortions,” the host reasons. “Please keep your remarks on topic.”

“Sorry about that, Solo. Thank you for your understanding.” Jacey turns his attention back to Winona. “What was your explanation for the launch again? You were testing fusion motion endurance?”

“That’s right,” Winona replies.

“What do you have to say about the timing?”

“It’s a coincidence. Our rocket was nowhere near your satellite at any time.”

“Right, and where is it now?”

This is all putting the team at risk. They’re at fault, but not for the reasons everyone thinks. Admitting responsibility would open the door for the authorities and the public to ask questions that neither Winona, nor the rest of the SD6, want to answer. The team doesn’t want that either. “That’s confidential.” It’s all she can say.

“Of course it is.”

“Let’s take a look at the Scales of Truth!” Solomon interjects. A curtain behind him slides open. The scale is pretty much to the table on Jacey’s side. “Oh, it’s not looking good for you, Miss Honeycutt.”

Leona’s phone dings. After she reads Kivi’s message, she steps into frame, wielding her telescopic stick, shocking all. “I challenge for control of the Microsovereignty.”

The audience gasps and Solomon smiles. “Listen, Little Miss—”

“What did you just call me?”

“Well, I’m sorry, I don’t know your name—”

“You don’t need to know my name, you just need to take off your jacket, and come down here for a fight.”

He’s still in shock. “A challenge for sovereignty entails a fight to the death.”

“I can choose to show you mercy when you’re on the floor and unconscious.”

“I don’t think you know who I am. I didn’t get to my position by being a little pussy cat. I earned it through strength and mercilessness. You’re not going to beat me, I don’t care how long your stick is.”

Leona lifts the stick up a little, and looks down at it. Then she throws it to the side. “Then I’ll do it with my bare hands.”

Everyone laughs, except for Winona, who knows what she can do. “Solomon, don’t take the bait. All she wants is for you to unilaterally rule in my favor. But rest assured, she will beat you, and you will lose everything.”

Solomon keeps staring at Leona for a moment, then looks over at Winona. His face hardens, and he starts to remove his jacket. This is a man who does not operate by silly things, like honor or morality. He likes to keep score, and there is no greater threat to his winning streak than a challenge that he doesn’t accept. He’s the kind of guy who would follow the old saying that goes, you miss a hundred percent of the shots you don’t take, even though any reasonable person would realize that the chances are actually zero percent. He rolls up his sleeves as he’s dramatically walking down the steps.

Leona leaves her rental in the lot. Winona drives them both back to the airport, where they’ll board a flight to Kansas City. “Did you know I would do that?”

Winona gulps. “I wasn’t aware of that loophole. I was just hoping you would beat his champion in combat. If you had, I would have gotten a second chance at the debate.”

“That wouldn’t have been enough.”

“I realize that now. I’m sorry,” Winona says after a beat. “The first time is hard.”

Leona lets her forehead bounce against the rattling window. “That wasn’t the first time I killed,” Leona contradicts. “It’s not even the first time I did it to gain control over something that I didn’t want. It’s just the first time I didn’t do it on purpose.”