Microstory 2252: No Dutch! No Dutch!

< > Table of Contents

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

Dear Dudes, Dutch. Doy. I asked to fill in for Nick today, instead of Kelly. It’s not that she couldn’t write it for him, but I’ve been a little bored, and I wanted something to do. I don’t know what we’re gonna do tomorrow, because the hospital still won’t want him working, and his website is his job, so I may write the next one too. We’ll just have to wait and see. If you don’t read his socials, then don’t worry, he’s okay. He’s not back here for a medical issue, but because he had his surgeries. They took out his index, and some of his bone marrow. Funny thing about that first thing, when I went to another universe, the scientists who studied me wanted to see if there were any physiological differences between me and them. They did all sorts of tests...consensually, and discovered that everything was the same. We all got ten fingers, one heart, and two butt cheeks. They also mentioned that the appendix was about the same. And I’m, like, “what the hell is an appendix?” That’s what they call the index. Apparently, their ancestors thought that it was a useless organ that doesn’t do anything. Which is strange, because back then, they also thought that a magical God created humans. Why would they think such an omnipotent entity would think to include something so strange and pointless? Anyway, I just remembered that, and thought it was funny.

Welp, I think I have a little extra time, so maybe I’ll spend the rest of it telling you how I got my name. Most people assume that it’s only a nickname, but no, it’s real. Both in this world, and the other one, learning it has made people chuckle, or hold back chuckles. The Dutch are people from Nederland, or the language that they speak. My family is not from Nederland, nor even the area. Here’s the story. When my father was a child, he used to watch this old television program. Of course, as Nick has pointed out, we don’t have much of a library of fiction on this Earth, but this one was scripted, and said to have been pretty good at the time. I can’t remember what it was called, but in the first season, there was a younger brother in the family. They got rid of him in later seasons without an explanation, but he kind of became synonymous with the show anyway. The character was very protective of his toys and other belongings. Whenever anyone would come into his room, or try to do anything with his stuff, he would yell “no touch! No touch!” But he had this sort of babyish accent, and it sounded more like Dutch than touch. My father, being of about the same age as this kid, started imitating what he saw and heard. He’d walk around the house, yelling that catch phrase over and over again, emphasizing a D sound even more than the actor did. My grandmother tells me that it was annoying, but at least he didn’t really understand what the words were supposed to have meant, so he wasn’t actually ever trying to stop people from touching his stuff. Then he grew up, and forgot about all of this. But years later, as an adult, he watched some old home movies, and saw himself yelling that. His own dad was gone, but his mother was still alive, so he asked her about it, and she explained what that was. So my dad, being the jokester that he is, just started doing it again. He’ll periodically yell, “no Dutch! No Dutch!” usually at very inappropriate times. I think you can guess the rest. It became part of his personality, so when he and his future wife had a kid, naming him Dutch just made sense. I get my brains and good looks from my mother, but I got Aderyn ‘No Dutch’ Haines’ sense of humor. I think it’s a pretty good deal.

Microstory 2081: Half a Surprise

< > Table of Contents

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

I didn’t have to go to work today. I worked eleven days straight, so it’s time for a break. I’ve not just been sitting around, though. I got out, and did stuff. First, I walked back to the bike shop, where they let you rent for the day. The first time is free as long as you sign up for their emailing list, and promise to seriously consider buying something at a later date. They have a few used ones, so instead of exploring my options online, I think I’ll just end up choosing one of these. I’ve gotten my first deposit, but I’m not exactly a millionaire yet. I would like to get a couple more before I start making any big purchases. I did spend a little cash on some food. I am not much of a cook, but I can get by if I plan it out, and I’m very careful. My landlord happened to have the day off too, so she planned something with a friend. She’ll be home for dinner, though, so I’m making something for her. I told her that I wanted to pick something up for the two of us to thank her for everything she’s done for me, so shh, it’s still half a surprise. She’s a vegetarian too, which is great. Do you know what the most important part of cooking is...? [...] Give up? It’s eating. Eating, of course; what else would be the point. The second most important thing, however, may be timing, and it’s one of the hardest things to learn. That’s what I’m struggling with now, but I think I’m gonna be okay. Something that really helps is having a bunch of little bowls ready with the individual ingredients. This is how they do it on all the cooking shows. My landlord doesn’t cook much herself, because she’s too busy at the clinic, but she inherited a lot of kitchen stuff from her grandmother, so there’s enough here for me to be ready to go. Wish me luck, I’m making a Mediterranean bowl, which shouldn’t be too terribly hard for an unskilled, perpetual novice like me. I’ll let you know how it goes tomorrow.

Microstory 2050: Minnesota

< > Table of Contents

Now, some of you may say that my papa never made it to all fifty states. He died in Oklahoma before he ever got the chance to see Minnesota. But my family and I don’t feel the same way that you do. After he died, we had a funeral service for him in Florida. My grandma has a hard time moving around. She doesn’t have ALS, but she’s old, and that’s just what happens. My aunt, uncle, and cousins all flew down to be there too. All of papa’s friends from college, the Navy, and his co-workers from the submarine company were there. Papa met a lot of people as he was going to every state. I didn’t talk a whole lot about that, but he didn’t just step over the borders, and take photos. He became involved in people’s lives, and they remembered him later. People heard of his accomplishment, and because of my dad’s work with the news, it made it into national news. Everyone knew that he had died, and they knew when the funeral was. They even had to move the service to a bigger room, because there wasn’t enough space in the one we had booked. When it was all over, we took papa’s cremains up to Minnesota. When you die, you might be buried in the ground, but they also may turn your body into ashes. It may be scary, but a lot of people want this to happen to them, and that’s what my papa wanted. We spread his ashes in the Boundary Waters Canoe Area Wilderness in Minnesota. Papa loved forests, so we thought that it was a good place to do it. Don’t worry, we asked for permission first. Some of the ashes are still in a little urn on our mantel. We had the special map framed, and it’s hanging on the wall right above it. The rest of the ashes will stay in Minnesota forever. I think that’s fitting. My papa went to all fifty states in the United States of America. I think that’s pretty amazing. Thank you for watching and listening to my presentation about my papa.

Microstory 2037: Florida

< > Table of Contents

So like I said, my fathers had two houses here in Plymouth. They had to move to the second one so they could take care of a child, which ended up being me. As they were just finishing up moving all the way into the second one, though, they got a call from papa’s mother. It was about my grandpa, who I never met. And that’s because he died that day. My papa was the first person she called about it, and then she called my Aunt Cooper. And then my Aunt Cooper called my papa so they could talk about it too. They cried about it together, because they loved my grandpa. They tell me that he was a great, hard-working man. I wish I could have known him. I was alive already, but my fathers had not adopted me yet. When he and my grandma were both finally retired, they left Idaho, and moved all the way down to Florida. A lot of people like to retire there, because it’s sunny all the time, and really pretty. They lived in a building called unassisted living, because they had trouble moving around too much, but they still didn’t need a nurse to take care of them all the time. My papa had actually visited a couple times since they moved there. He had even helped them move in, but I decided to talk about Florida on this slide, instead of earlier, because this is when my papa went down to go to his father’s funeral. It was really sad, and I’m kind of glad I at least wasn’t there for that part. Only a few of grandpa’s friends were able to make it, because a lot of them were already dead, and some of them weren’t able to travel. Some of them lived in Florida too, though.

Microstory 2014: Utah

< > Table of Contents

Promontory University is a college in Utah that’s near Salt Lake City, to the north. The city is named that because it’s next to the Great Salt Lake, which is a really big body of water that has salt in it, like an ocean. It actually has more salt in it than the oceans. I don’t understand how it works, but Mrs. McKinney told me that she’s going to teach us the water cycle in a couple of months, so we’ll probably all learn more about it. Anyway, after the big trip in Europe, my papa decided to go to Promontory University. My grandma said that it was only about 2 and a half hours away from where they lived. So he was able to be out of the house, and learn how to be an adult, but he could also drive back home, and then back to his dorm in only one day if he really needed to. I don’t think he ever had to do that, though. He loved being at school. It’s where he learned the skills that he used when he got a job. That would not happen for a long time, though. After he graduated, he joined the military, but we’ll talk more about that in a few slides when I talk about Rhode Island. At Promontory University, he studied Architectural Engineering. That’s what people use to draw out buildings before other people build them. But he didn’t do much with buildings. His work had more to do with vehicles. That will come up again later too.

Microstory 2011: Arizona

< > Table of Contents

My papa applied to go to a ton of different colleges, and got into a lot of them. Grandma says that he filled out more applications than most students do. She laughed when she talked about how much money that they must have spent to send in all of those applications. Did you know that just asking to go to a college costs money? Maybe I won’t go to Harvard. It’s probably really expensive just to apply! As I was saying, grandma can’t remember why he did it for so many of them, but she thought maybe he was playing the odds, but I’m not sure what that means. He only went to visit a few of them, mostly to the ones in the states that he had already been to, but it was the first time that he went to Arizona. He didn’t end up going to school there, so no one can remember which school it was, but everybody thinks that he only chose it because it was on the way to California, which was where he really wanted to go. He wasn’t going to San Diego for a college, though. On the next slide, I’ll tell you why he was there instead, but apparently, he didn’t really care about touring the college. It was just an excuse to drive south. The capital of Arizona is a phoenix, which my dad says is his favorite mythical animal. I think it’s pretty cool too.

The Advancement of Mateo Matic: April 21, 2412

« < » > Table of Contents

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

Finding the Nexus, and getting the hell out of this galaxy, while dangerous and full of many unknowns, was their best and safest course of action. The angry Fifth Divisioner was one of apparently many who wanted to see the whole team dead, probably for not completely unreasonable reasons. They always had pretty good luck on Dardius, at least when it came to civilization. Of course, that was the location of Tribulation Island, which was arguably the source of every problem that still haunted them today, but other than that, it’s been great.

“What’s your idea, Constance?” Leona asked.

“Well, the three-word coordinate system is an interesting thing,” Constance began. “They’re meant to be random, but then I started thinking about how time travelers affect history in tiny little ways that a normal person wouldn’t notice. There are phrases that I’ve heard two people utter independently of each other, centuries apart, without them having ever crossed paths. Now, maybe that can be explained by a long chain of meetings, like the six degrees of Kevin Bacon, but based on other things I know about how time works...not necessarily. The Nexa are incredibly advanced, complex machines that can do a whole hell of a lot more than just send you from Point A to Point B. The people who came up with them cross the multiversal void like it’s nothing more than a tiny stream they can hop over with a modicum of momentum. They’re sometimes called gods. If anyone is capable of secretly impacting the algorithm of a natural language global coordinate system, it’s them.”

“Where are you going with this?” Mateo pressed, not impatiently.

Constance nodded, and turned a screen that hung down from the ceiling between the passenger section and the helm. She zoomed into the ocean. “Nexus.space.machine,” she said dramatically. “Middle of the Pacific Ocean, just as we suspected.

Leona peered at it. “Could it really be that...on the nose?”

“Might as well see what’s up,” Constance determined. “The nearest major land mass is three thousand kilometers away. There’s little risk in checking it out. I mean, except, of course, that guy who’s trying to kill you. But he could be anywhere.” She shrugged. “I doubt he’s there. If he is, it’s because I’m right.”

“Yeah,” Leona agreed. She looked back up at the screen, and took a breath. “Dante. Activate the cloak, plot a course back to Earth, and once we’re within teleportation range, jump us straight to—”

“Wait,” Olimpia piped up. “If there’s something there, we don’t wanna land right on top of it, or inside of it.”

“Good point.” Leona tapped on a different square on the map. “Jump to arise.until.converges instead.”

“Understood. Cloak activated. Jumping now.”

They were floating in the middle of the ocean. Around them was more ocean. There was no land in sight, no aircraft in the skies; they were totally alone. And there was no Nexus space machine to transport them to Dardius. But of course, it was never going to be that easy, or a satellite would have picked it up in the late 19th century. Angela started removing her clothes.

“Whaaat are you doing?” Ramses asked

“Don’t question her,” Olimpia scolded playfully, enjoying the show.

“I’m going for a swim. My guess is that it’s at the bottom of the ocean. I don’t know how deep it is here, but—”

“Three thousand, six hundred, and eighty-three meters,” Dante answered, unprompted.

“You can’t go down that far,” Ramses explained, “but...” He widened his eyes, and lifted his hand towards the ceiling.

“I can,” Dante volunteered.

“Let’s do it,” Leona said. “Run a grid sweep, centering on Nexus.space.machine.”

They didn’t have to do much of a sweep. As soon as they dove right under the surface, and pointed the headlights where they wanted to go, the Nexus building appeared within view. It wasn’t giving off any energy readings to speak of, and was undetectable via sonar, but it was visible to the naked eye. It was just under the water, and maintaining neutral buoyancy. The waves went up, it went up. The waves went down, it went down. It was possible to stand on top of it, and not get wet above the ankles, if not for the splashes. They dove the Dante deeper, and magnetically attached it to the exterior wall. Then they all seven teleported into the Nexus building.

“Venus, are you there?”

“I’m here, Leona.”

“I’m always worried that you won’t respond.”

“I can’t promise that I always will.”

“Thanks for being honest. We were hoping to be transported to Dardius?”

“Certainly.” The machine began to power up.

“Wait, let’s think about this,” Mateo said. Despite the fact that Mateo did not have anywhere near the relationship with this Venus Opsocor, the machine actually started to power down a little bit, apparently in response to his hesitation. “I’m a little tired. Aren’t you a little tired?”

“I guess,” Leona replied.

“I’m not,” Ramses said. “But if you worked half as hard as I imagine you would have had to in the stairwell, your bodies could be spent right now. It wouldn’t be a bad idea to take a rest.”

“If we wait one more day,” Leona began to reason, “everyone else is waiting a year. They’re expecting us.”

“They knew what they were getting into when they sent for us,” Marie reasoned right back. “They are under no illusions that our lives are quick and easy. You should sleep. It could be that they would rather us be late and energized than early and useless.”

Leona thought about it some more. All right. Venus, we’re going back to the Dante to sleep. Is it okay if we postpone this for a year?”

“Why go back when you have everything you need right here?” The Nexus went back to powering up. A light flashed, and when it receded, they found an undecagonal bed that fit perfectly within the undecagonal Nexus cavity. Someone designed it to be used for such an occasion, and it was just sitting on another world, waiting to be transported here when needed. Did they need it, though? Did anyone need a bed that was larger than most bedrooms?

“Orgy, party of seven!” Olimpia joked. She jumped into the bed, and started logrolling around.

“That’s my sister,” Angela argued, pointing to Marie.

Olimpia just shrugged.

“You definitely need some sleep, which is all that’s going to be happening in this bed. Thank you, Venus,” Leona said.

“I live to serve.”

Everyone slept through the night, including the four of them who didn’t expend a ton of energy in an underground monkey bar prison. Constance found it to be an eye-opening experience, because while she had obviously placed herself in dormant mode before, she had never slept as an organic being. It made her appreciate the human struggle more in several hours than she had accrued in the prior four and a half billion years of her life. That was probably a tiny exaggeration, though. Once everyone was up and ready, Venus made the gargantuan bed disappear. She then loaded the coordinates to the Nexus on Tribulation Island, and sent them all away.

“You have arrived,” she announced at their destination. Because she was everywhere all at once.

The two Nexus technicians greeted them, of course knowing exactly who they were, and having been expecting their visit. They made no indication that the team was late. They contacted someone to come and explain why they were asked to come here, and told them that they were free to wait inside, or get some fresh air. This planet never had any air pollution, which was something that all Vonearthan colonies shared, but this one held a population of billions, so it was particularly astonishing.

When they stepped outside, they found the Dante sitting on the sand next to the Nexus building. “Venus. How did you bring it here?” Leona asked her.

“The cavity is more of what you would call a guideline than an actual rule. I am the Nexus. I am the network.” Hm. Interesting.

They wandered around, and did enjoy the fresh air until a woman arrived an hour later from an airshuttle. She stepped out, and looked directly at Mateo, rather than the group as a whole. “Mateo Matic. My name is Tyra Nieman, Generation Ten. I am here to take you to my daughter, Karla Nieman, Generation Eleven.”

“Do we have business with her?” Mateo asked. “I don’t believe we’ve met, though I do recognize the surname. I think it’s in my notebook.”

“It ought to be,” Tyra said. “You had sex with our ancestor nearly three hundred years ago.” She turned to head back towards the shuttle. “Come. Your daughter will be born soon.”

They followed her into the shuttle, and rode with her to the mainland. Mateo started flipping through his notes, but he already remembered what Tyra was referring to. Two hundred and seventy-nine years ago, Mateo and Leona found themselves on the rogue planet of Durus. A settlement called Ladytown was attacked by the government, which resulted in all of the males living there contracting a deadly disease. They asked Mateo to donate sperm so they could repopulate and rebuild. They did not have the technology to do this medically, so he had to perform the old fashioned way. He paired with several women, but after returning to the timestream a year later, he learned that none of the pregnancies took. According to this woman, that was apparently untrue, or the truth was at least complicated. In their world, complicated was the resting state. Their best guess was that Saffira Nieman was placed in stasis, or jumped forward in time, and it was just that no one mentioned it. But if Saffira was finally about to have the baby, what did her descendent, Karla have to do with anything?

Tyra declined to clarify the situation, insisting that, as the current mother—which she said as if the word were more of a title than a relationship—Karla was responsible for speaking for herself. So they waited until they were in the house in Sutvindr, where the Niemans lived. There they were taken into a bedroom, where a pregnant woman was lying in bed. Mateo wasn’t the best with faces, but this was definitely not Saffira.

A man was sitting on a chair next to the bed. “It’s all right, father. I would like to speak with him alone.”

“What if you need something?” her father asks.

“Then I am sure that Mister Matic is more than capable of helping. If his reputation is accurate, he will be more than willing as well.”

“Of course,” Mateo concurred. “She is safe with me.”

The father grunted, and left the room. Leona had stepped in as well, and was reluctant to leave.

“It’s okay, Madam Delaney. You may stay as well,” the woman said with a smile, though it appeared to be difficult for her to change the expression on her face. With all due respect, she looked very tired. “I’m sure you have lots of questions,” she began as she was trying to sit up. She accepted Mateo’s help with the pillows. “Or maybe you just have the one: what the fuck is going on? Bear with me, and I promise, everything will make sense.” She cleared her throat, and reached over for some water. “My name is Karla Nieman, Generation Eleven: the final mother. Now, what does that mean? Well, hundreds of years ago, you impregnated Saffira Nieman. She lived and died with no idea that she was pregnant for years on end. She actually had her own kid—two kids, I believe; a girl and a boy. The girl, when she came of age, became pregnant as well. She lived and died also without knowing the truth. It was actually not until the fourth generation that people started to suspect that something was weird.”

“Oh my God.”

“Leona’s getting it,” Karla said with a bigger smile, and a laugh. “That’s when she started to feel symptoms, because for the baby, the pregnancy has been going on for the last several weeks.”

Mateo lost his breath. He turned away to get it back. He was hyperventilating. Leona tried to place her hands upon his shoulders to comfort him, but it only made it worse. After a couple of minutes, he composed himself, and turned back around. “I’m terribly sorry about that. I just...now I understand that... I’m sorry.”

“Yes, it’s a lot to take in. We can only imagine how difficult it must have been for Generations Four and Five. They had to figure it out with limited medical technology, and a cursory understanding of time travel studies. You’re famous, Mateo, and the Nieman bloodline knows more about you than anyone else in the universe, but that’s only because we made a point to know. We had to. But the early mothers had no reason to research your life yet.”

“So you’ve been pregnant your whole life? The baby just keeps going down the generations?” Mateo asked.

“No,” Karla responded with a shake of her head. “It doesn’t happen until after puberty. Until then, the previous mother holds onto it. But remember, it’s a once a year thing. It’s just like your life—” She interrupted herself to stare into space with a look of immense pain. Her sigh turned into a whimper, which turned into a scream, though it wasn’t too loud. Mateo just let her squeeze his hand until the contraction was over two minutes later. She breathed heavily, and drank some more water. “Forgive me.”

“That is nothing that needs to be forgiven,” Leona insisted.

“Thank you. As I was saying, the way it worked is that once the next mother in line goes through puberty, the baby will transport itself to her. The doctors called it Spontaneous Uterine Transplantation. Actually, they originally called it Spontaneous Matrilineal Uterine Transplantation, but someone pointed out that it spelled out Smut, so they changed it. But it’s still matrilineal. To my knowledge, a daughter was never a guarantee. I only have three brothers, but previous mothers have had many more, because they needed to make sure that there was an impregnable person to carry the torch. Ha! That’s not the right word, is it? It seems like it should be. If you can be impregnated, you’re impregnable! Right? Am I right? I’m right!” She laughed heartily.

They laughed with her.

“Anyway, as we’ve said, there have been eleven generations of this for the last three hundred years. The baby exists for one day out of the year, just like you. It jumps forward in time at the end of that day, but the funny thing is, every fun component of pregnancy sticks around. Bloating, cramps, wonky hormones: I’ve had them since I was a teen. And now...”

“Now you’ve been in labor for, what, a week?” Leona guessed.

“A month,” Karla corrected. “I’ve been having contractions for a month. And unless this baby comes today, I’m going to be having them for a whole other year. The final mother has always been a revered figure in our family history. But they never thought about the downsides. And I’m the only one who has to go through them.” She leaned over to the side, and glanced at the door as if she could see through it. “Between you and me, my mom has always resented me. My grandmother—God bless her—she was scared to death that she would birth a premature baby. But her husband was always, like, Telma—her name was Telma—he was like, Telma, this is Mateo Matic’s child. It magically disappears every year, and then comes back to the same womb. Then it moves to a different womb! It’s not gonna be premature! It’s gonna come out perfect! My grandfather, he was a laugh riot. But my mom! My mom. She thought she was the one. Lots of babies are born at thirty weeks, she’d say. She never let me forget it. But she was wrong. It’s me. I’m the birth mother. And she doesn’t resent me anymore.” She indicated herself in the bed. “Not after seeing me like this, and being pretty sure that the baby’s birthdate is April 22, 2413. Ain’t nobody wants to be me no more, I’ll tell ya that much. Sorry, I got a bit of an accent that comes out when I’m riled up. I know I’m in trouble, but you’re here now, and I can’t help but be excited.”

“We understand,” Leona said. “But you really should get some rest. We will indeed get you anything you need. We can try to...” she started to say uncomfortably.

“Induce?” Karla assumed. “I’m not allowed to. It’s this whole spiritual thing. I gotta go through it all the way. We’re on the baby’s timetable. We always have been. Everybody’s afraid that something’ll go wrong if we interfere in any way.”

Leona frowned at her, as did Mateo.

“It’ll be all right, Sugar,” Karla said. “I’m a tough chick. I’ll get through this, and then I’ll be the only mother that matters. And my mother will hate me for it.” She seemed quite pleased with this eventuality.

They stayed with her for the rest of the day, learning more of the family history, and of Karla’s personal life. She hadn’t come up with a name for the baby yet, but the past mothers always thought that it would be a good idea to choose a Croatian name. A year later, Romana Saffira Nieman took her first breath in the fresh Dardieti air.

« < » > Table of Contents

Microstory 1932: Building Trust

< > Table of Contents

Generated by Canva text-to-image AI software

Freewoman: Hey, are you okay? You look upset.

Agent Parsons: I can’t talk about it.

Freewoman: You can tell me anything. That’s what the couple bond means.

Agent Parsons: We made a commitment to each other, yes, but you didn’t make a commitment to the U.S. government. That’s the issue. That means I can’t tell you everything, even if I wanted to.

Freewoman: Well, how about you talk in generalizations, so you’re not giving anything away about what you’re investigating, or whatever.

Agent Parsons: I dunno...

Freewoman: When I was seven years old, my grandmother died. I didn’t want to, but my mother made me go up to her casket, and give her my goodbyes. I tried to walk away, but she made me go back and give her a kiss on her forehead. “It’s tradition, Myka,” she said. I’ll always remember that nasally tone she took with me. “It’s tradition, Myka.” Fine, I thought to myself, I’ll lean over and give her a kiss, but I’m not leaving empty-handed. I swiped the gold locket they were trying to bury with her, and later sold it at a pawn shop. That was the first crime I ever committed. I’m a graverobber, Reese.

Reese Parsons: I appreciate you trusting me with this story, but why are you telling it?

Myka: Just building trust. Your turn.

Reese: *cracking a smile* Okay. I betrayed a friend at work. I could have helped him directly. I could have protected him from my bosses, but I chose to go about it in such a way as to protect myself, and it didn’t work. He...was reprimanded, even though he didn’t do anything wrong, and now they won’t even let me talk to him.

Myka: Reese, I know what you’re talking about. I’m the one who helped try to get the word back to the escapee.

Reese: Oh yeah, I forgot.

Myka: So, he never got the message? I didn’t hear how that all turned out.

Reese: No, he got the message; he just chose to ignore it.

Myka: So it wasn’t your fault.

Reese: I can’t help but wonder if he would have listened if I had talked to him myself. I could have answered questions, and pushed harder, because I’m the one who understands what’s at stake. Who knows what information was left over once Freeman 11 got his hands on it? Maybe he warned Leonard that a pack of rabid zebras were running through the streets, instead of the true message.

Myka: Well, where is he now? Again, you don’t have to be specific, just clarify what’s stopping you from talking to him now.

Reese: He’s in a jail they built in the basement. They said they were gonna let me see him. They said that I would be able to help, but I guess they changed their minds.

Myka: What would happen if you disobeyed orders? Would they fire you?

Reese: They would remove me from the special assignment, but they wouldn’t have the authority to terminate my position with Fugitive Services. However, if she were so motivated, the Director could make a call, and make it happen.

Myka: Then I guess you’re gonna have to be sneaky about it, won’t you?

Extremus: Year 46

« < » > Table of Contents

Exactly twenty-four years ago, then-Admiral Halan Yenant introduced then-Interim Captain Olindse Belo to then-Future Captain Kaiora Leithe. A lot has happened since that day. They were so young back then, so naïve, and none of them could have predicted how much they would go through—together—but later so, so very apart. Halan is still in hock. Their dream of getting him out never materialized. Olindse is in the future, but Kaiora doesn’t know when, which is for the best. In honor of both of them, Kaiora has decided to choose her own successor on the anniversary of her own official appointment. Of course, she knew it was coming, as does Future Captain Trudie Haynes. Today was meant to be the day they made the announcement, and had a party. Unfortunately, Kaiora isn’t in much of a festive mood, so it will have to be postponed. Still, she needs to explain it in person.

The door opens upon command. Kaiora can see Trudie through it now. She’s sitting on her couch, legs propped up on the ottoman, watching something on her main screen. She’s stuffing her face with civilian grade bagged food. She jumps up, and brushes crumbs off of her sweatshirt. “Captain, I wasn’t expecting you. How are you feeling?”

“I’m fine,” Kaiora answers. “Why aren’t you dressed?”

Trudie consults her watch. “Well, since the party’s cancelled, my day should be free. I don’t have class, or any meetings.”

“Who told you that the party is cancelled?” Kaiora questions.

“The logic ball.”

“The what?”

Trudie steps over, and removes a ball from its stand. It’s barely small enough for her to cup one hand around it. “You input data points with your voice, giving it as much context as possible, and it returns the probability of a given outcome, or a selected outcome. For instance..logic ball, what are the odds that Captain Leithe drops dead within the next five minutes?”

After she shakes it, the ball responds, “the chances are three to one hundred.”

“That can’t be right, that’s far too high.”

Kaiora points at the thing. “That has access to private medical records. Who gave you that?”

“It’s just a novelty item; anyone can get one. Why? What’s wrong with you?”

“Never mind. So you just guessed that I was going to cancel it?”

“Not guessing. Logic.”

Kaiora lets out her signature sigh. “If you’re going to become the next captain, you’re going to have to destroy that thing, and hope that no one ever finds out you once owned it.”

Trudie tilts her chin up to look at her Captain at a slightly altered angle. “Logic ball, what are the chances of someone discovering that—”

“No,” Kaiora interrupts. “No more questions. I came here to talk. I mean, I suppose that’s no longer necessary. I expected to find you here in full dress, perhaps hovering by the door.”

“Sorry, sir. I’ll try not to anticipate next time.”

“No, that’s...that’s a good characteristic in a leader. I’m just...I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Trudie assures her, “you’ve been through a lot. Do you...want to talk about it? I know we don’t know each other that well, but sometimes that’s what you need; someone whose opinion you don’t care about.”

“I care about your opinion. You’re the future captain of this ship. It’s time to stop underestimating yourself.”

“I understand, sir.” She widens her eyes to open up the floor for further discussion.

Kaiora realizes this. “No, I don’t need to talk. Really, I’m fine. She was old; old people die.”

Trudie nods silently.

“Well, I’ll let you carry on. I have to go be with my family.”

“Would I be able to attend the service?” Trudie asks more than offers. “That is...do you want me there.”

“That would be great. She would have liked you.”

Trudie nods again. “Logic ball, what are the chances I vaporize the ship if I destroy you by setting you on fire?” she jokes as Kaiora is leaving.

It’s not great that this logic ball device has access to private medical data, but she doesn’t want to worry about it right now. She just wants to focus on her family. She has a right to climb out of the captain’s chair every now and then. Still, she can’t just let it go, so she sends a quick message to Lars to look into it for her. Then she takes the long way around to her destination. She retained teleportation rights after she blocked them shipwide, but she doesn’t use it.

Her brother opens the door by hand wave. He shrugs his shoulders, and stares at her a moment. Then they hug each other warmly. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” Kaiora echoes. “How’s Tinaya?”

“Ask her.” He steps aside, letting Kaiora into the unit. “She won’t talk to us.”

She goes into Tinaya’s room to find her sitting on her couch, staring at her screen, much in the same way Trudie was. She’s playing Quantum Colony. While it’s more common to engage in it using virtual reality, a user has the option of interfacing using any number of means, even simply by text commands typed out on a keyboard. Her avatar is currently floating aimlessly in the vacuum. The image of the asteroid where her homebase is located is getting smaller and smaller. Life support readings indicate that her character is running desperately low on oxygen. “Are you going to do something about that?”

The controller is technically in her hand, but as her fingers are open, and she’s resting them on the cushion, she doesn’t have any real control over it. “I don’t see why I would.”

Kaiora has to resist the urge to snatch the controller from her, and jetpack back to safety. It’s her character, she can do whatever she wants with it. Instead, she just sits down next to her, and mimics the physical slump her niece is in.

“Don’t mock me.”

“I’m not. This is comfortable. That looks comfortable too.” The game is hyperrealistic, so the avatar is actually suffocating to death before their eyes...and ears. “You know, that’s not how she died.”

“Yes, she did,” Tinaya contends. “Everyone who dies of being an old fuck chokes on their own spit in their final hours.”

“Don’t call her that.”

Tinaya folds her arms, and mutters an apology, but it’s too uncomfortable with the controller digging into her underarm, so she opens back up, and hurls it against the far wall. Kaiora takes this opportunity to pull Tinaya into a hug. “No! No!” she fights, but it’s not really what she wants. She gives up quickly, and accepts the embrace. She begins to cry upon her aunt’s shoulder. “Goddammit. She was so old. Why am I so upset?”

“Because you were close,” Kaiora answers. “Because you loved her.”

“People like us, we’re not allowed to cry.”

“Why do you say that?” Kaiora asks, releasing from the hug only so they can speak face to face. “People like us?”

Tinaya tries to wipe the tears from her cheeks. “Captains.”

Kaiora tears up, but smiles. “Captains are allowed to cry.”

“No, you’re not.” In private, Kaiora is right, but in public, Tinaya is.

“Well, my mother just died, so—” Kaiora interrupts herself with her own tears. “So I think they’ll understand.”

Tinaya returns the favor from before by initiating a second hug. They hold there for a while before Tinaya speaks again. “Do you...”

They separate. “Do I what?”

“Do you wish you could talk to her again? Would that make you feel better, or worse?”

Kaiora looks for answers on the floor. “I honestly don’t know. I guess...if I had to choose between seeing her one more time, and never again, I would choose the former.”

Tinaya studies her face to see if she’s telling the truth.

Kaiora squints her eyes, confused. This doesn’t sound like a hypothetical. “Why? Do you have a—you couldn’t. You don’t have a time mirror, or something, do you?”

“No, no,” Tinaya promises. “It’s nothing like that.”

“What are we talking about, Ti-ti?” That’s her pet name for her niece.

“Just don’t freak out, Titi.” That’s her pet name for her aunt. Tinaya prepares herself emotionally, and then retrieves a tiny box from her desk. It opens to reveal something called a visitor’s pass.

For the most part, the people on this ship are just normal biological humans. They’re almost completely organic, with no upgrades or enhancements. Some exceptions to this aren’t even really exceptions. Their organs are stronger, and more resistant to disease. Their bodies age slower, and their chemicals generally stay better balanced. But this is part of genetic engineering that started before the ship took off to combat the couple thousand years of isolated evolutionary divergence that shortened human lifespans. No one here has been too drastically altered. Except that they have, because that’s what medicine is. And nanochips definitely qualify, because they provide everyone with the ability to interface with technology directly with their brains. Some use this more than others. Why, it’s what allows Kaiora to summon or banish people using teleportation. She doesn’t have to select on a screen who she wants to transport, or where she wants them to go. She just thinks it. This still requires a physical component, but it wouldn’t really work without the chip. Regardless, chip or no chip, people have a right to private computer processing. The visitor’s pass will allow Kaiora to access Tinaya’s personal data, and then Tinaya will revoke it simply by taking the pass back.

It’s a little gray transcranial electrode that attaches to the temple to minimal pain. Within seconds of attaching it, Kaiora has been transported to a quantum terminal. In the game, this is where access to each new star system begins. Players generally do not travel via ships, because they would be limited to sublight speeds. To get around, they quantum cast their consciousnesses from one terminal to a distant one, assuming they’ve been granted access. This must be Tinaya’s world.

“I’m on my way back,” Tinaya says through the comms. She must have connected with her avatar, and is trying to return to base.

“Do you need me to come get you?” Kaiora asks.

“No, it’s fine,” Tinaya replies. “I keep a drone nearby with extra oxygen. I just...didn’t use it. I’m using it now.”

“Why don’t your characters have short-range teleportation capabilities?”

“That’s not part of the game,” she explains.

Once Tinaya gets back, she has to inject herself with a stabilizer because of the amount of time her body went without oxygen. Apparently, players have the option of building themselves wholly organic substrates, wholly mechanical, or something in between. “That’s what I wanted to show you,” Tinaya says.

It’s only then that Kaiora catches herself in a mirror. She’s wearing her own face, rather than a temporary android’s. It’s not her regular face, though. It’s about half the age she actually is now. She gently places her hand on her cheek. “How did you do this?”

“DNA can be digitized,” Tinaya answers like it’s no big deal.

“Still, I didn’t...give you permission, or anything.”

“Yikes. Then you’re really not gonna like this.” Tinaya raises the transparency of a cryopod, and reveals another human figure.

The face is hard to make out, but then becomes clearer. It’s her mother—Tinaya’s grandmother. It’s a violation to create the likeness of someone without their permission, but Kaiora can’t help but be grateful for the opportunity to see her. She too is younger than she was when she passed a few days ago. This was how she looked when Kaiora was growing up. She snaps back to reality. “Why did you do this?”

“I was hoping you old people would join me one day. I have one for all of us. Mom, dad, even grandpa.”

“Why would you make one for grandpa?” Kaiora questions. “He was gone before you were old enough to play this game.”

“That’s what I’m actually showing you,” Tinaya says. “These are not just statues.”

“What do you mean?”

“They’re dormant now, of course, but...they’re copies. I downloaded their consciousnesses from the database.”

“What database are you even talking about?”

“The database,” Tinaya repeats. “Of all the minds of all the people who live, or once lived, on Extremus.”

“Where did you find this database?”

Tinaya shrugs. “I dunno, I just linked with the ship.”

“Did you tell anyone else about this?”

“You said you wanted to talk to your mom again. Now you can. It’s actually her.”

Kaiora’s patience ran thin quite quickly. “Did you tell anyone about the database?” she asks once more.

“No.”

“Good.” Kaiora sighs. “You weren’t meant to find that. I’m going to have to do everything I can to protect you from them.”

« < » > Table of Contents

Microstory 1866: Garden Path

< > Table of Contents

My family had more than enough money to afford college, but I refused to go, because I already knew what I wanted to do with my life, and four years of studying math and history weren’t going to do me any good. My parents were disappointed, but they understood. They worked long hours to earn that money, so my father’s parents chose to move closer to us so I could go over there after school every day. My grandmother would read me classic books while I was curled up in a plastic storage bin, and my grandfather would teach me things he thought every growing child should know, like how to hold a baseball like a pitcher. But we all three worked in that garden together. It was so beautiful that neighbors would ask them to landscape their yards for them. They were both retired, and appreciated the opportunities to do something productive with their lives. They didn’t start a real business, but I knew that it could become that one day, and that I would be responsible for it. By the time I graduated from high school, they were too old to be on their hands and knees all the time, so I took on the clients alone, and started charging money for my services. I kept getting more and more requests, and before I knew it, I had to hire some help to get everything done. In only a few years, I had an office clerk, an accountant, and two separate crews so we could serve two homes at the same time. I was making a real name for myself in the industry; so big, in fact, that I risked not being able to do what I loved, because I ended up with so many administrative duties. That was when a new opportunity knocked in my door.

A wealthy man who had already founded and sold off two companies had decided to break ground on the headquarters for a new organization right here in my community. Back then, before the internet, it was hard to determine who was a good guy, and who was bad, but I couldn’t find any skeletons in his closet. He asked me to design the landscaping for the building. He didn’t like the idea of anyone working in an office setting without windows, so there would be no cubicles, and no interior rooms, except for bathrooms, and storage closets. If it had a desk in it, it also had a view. To maximize the space, it was built with four separate courtyards that weren’t even all at the same height. So I guess some people would be working without windows, but for good reason. It was a company that shot commercials for other companies, so the soundstage had to be big, and soundproof. Anyway, that doesn’t matter. The point is the courtyards. The landscaping had to be gorgeous and extravagant, because hundreds of people were going to be looking at it, and living in it, every day. It was a huge project. I wasn’t sure I could handle it. I certainly wouldn’t have any time to plant any trees myself, which is what I always loved. Still, it was good money, so I had to take it. Once it was complete, the founder was so impressed that he essentially donated his nephew to me. The nephew wanted to be a businessman, but he didn’t want to work directly for a family member. He seemed perfect. He could handle all the boring stuff, and I could return to what I did best. It went well for the next few years until he pushed me out using some legal maneuvering that I still don’t understand. His uncle was horrified, but he said there was nothing that either of us could do. Except that wasn’t true. I started a new company from the ground up, using my good name to accumulate clients, and before I knew it, I was bigger than the nephew ever hoped to achieve.

Microstory 1843: Granddaughter

< > Table of Contents

I don’t want to talk about my life, nor my death. I would rather gush about my granddaughter. That is a grandmother’s job. Thack Natalie Collins was born in 1988 in Tāmaki Makaurau, as was her mother, as was I, and as was my mother. We didn’t know about the voldisil back then, but we all felt it that day in the maternity ward. The whole hospital, in fact, felt something change. When she came into this world, she brought with her a light that no one had ever seen before. Most kept to themselves about it, but people reported gaining new perspective on the universe, and their place in it. They could sense how we were all connected, and how everything mattered. There was no purpose to our reality, but there was an order, and it all fit together. As she grew older, she proved herself to be quite the storyteller. Before she could write, she was telling us about a young man fighting for peace on a chain of islands, and a pair of dolphins who tried to help humans survive a pandemic. We were so enamored with her, we didn’t understand where she was coming up with these stories. If pressed, she could answer nearly any question we threw at her. Where was this character born, and what was their middle name? What was their favorite school subject? She responded immediately, not like she knew we would ask it, but like she already knew everything about this person, so it didn’t matter what we asked. Occasionally, a follow up question would give her pause, but she didn’t look like she was trying to come up with an answer. You know what I mean, that look that people have when they’re contemplating something. No, her eyes looked more like she had to find the information from a book laid before her, except there was no book. She was getting the answers from somewhere, though, and we realized later how literal this was. All of her stories were actually true.

She witnesses events across time, space, and dimensional barriers. She can see the entire multiverse. I don’t claim to know how her ability works, or how she came to possess it. The way she tells it, she has three parents. My daughter and her husband share her with a third entity, who keeps themselves hidden from the rest of us. Thack’s father felt violated by this, but sex seems to have nothing to do with it. Evidently, a human being is normally given their soul by their god, but for some reason, voldisil receive theirs from someone living on a lower plane of existence; one that is closer to ours. Thack doesn’t know much more than that, but she knows just about everything else. Except about our universe. That appears to be rather hazy for her, which is probably for the best. Knowing what’s going to happen in the future for people around you would be an incredible burden that I can’t fathom. It’s much safer to stay distant from them, and just let them do their thing. Thack doesn’t live like that, however. She injects herself into the stories, guiding the right people to the right decisions to make the cosmic puzzle look the best that it can. She doesn’t interfere too much, bolstering herself up to be a god herself, or anything. She just communicates with those who need her the most, and she knows who these particular people are, because they stand out, and their paths aren’t completely clear to her. When I was young, our teacher asked us to write a paper about a person who we admire the most. Most chose historical figures; scientists and leaders. I think I did mine on a protester who died in prison. If I could start that all over again, I would choose my granddaughter, because she’s that amazing.

Microstory 1796: Rounded

< > Table of Contents

I love round numbers. Truthfully, I probably only held out this long so I could reach my hundredth year. Tomorrow is my birthday, and when that clock strikes zero, I plan to die. Where I live, the new year begins in the middle of the day, so my family is here to celebrate with me. They didn’t have to do that for me, squeeze into my nursing home room. I’m sure the younger ones would rather be at a party, and the older ones are too exhausted to spend this much time out of the house. I appreciate it, but I worry about how awkward it’s going to be when I pass. Only my youngest grandson knows what’s going to happen. He’s only six, but he’s so smart. He doesn’t think I’ll be able to pull it off, so I bet him a hundred dollars. He pointed out that he won’t be able to pay me if I end up being right, but it wouldn’t matter anyway. I don’t need money where I’m going, and I’m going soon, whether it’s at exactly 0:00, or not. He’s going to get a hundred bucks out of this, and it will teach him to focus his attention on safe bets. That’s the kind of lesson I’ve always tried to teach my kids. You don’t have to worry about what’s going to happen in the future if you rig it in your favor. Don’t play it safe, or you won’t get anywhere, but have an ace up your sleeve at all times. Don’t let others stack the deck against you. I’ve been unresponsive for a few hours now, but what my family doesn’t know is that I can still hear everything they’re saying. They’re talking about me, of course, and not even watching the clock. The elders are sharing stories with the youngsters. Man, I had a fun life, and I die here with no regrets. My son is talking about how I taught him how to get the job he wanted by basically not taking no for an answer. He snorts as he laughs. That’s not how it works anymore. Employers don’t like pushy people. Anyway, it worked for him in the 1960s, and he’s where he is now because of it.

They don’t notice when I pass at precisely when I meant to. My grandson positioned himself next to my vitals machine. I told you he was smart. So alarms don’t go off, he sneakily switches the little device on my finger to his own. It just keeps measuring, thinking that he’s me. He places his finger against my neck, waiting for a pulse that never comes. Still he tells no one. He lets them tell their stories, blissfully unaware that I’m gone. His parents think it’s so sweet that he’s holding my hand, but he’s really only doing it to maintain the lie. I taught him well, I tell you. They continue to tell stories for another thirty minutes until the nurse comes back in to confirm what she suspected. Grandson doesn’t apologize. He says he wanted the family to enjoy the beginning of the new year, at least for a little bit. The nurse leaves to begin the process. Meanwhile, my family decides that he’s right, or maybe they don’t want to argue about it. I was old and it was my time. There are some tears, even from those I wouldn’t have thought would produce them on this occasion, or didn’t think they would themselves. They keep going with the stories, though, trying to keep it light for the younglings. They know what’s going on, and the adults want them to feel comfortable with death, rather than being afraid of it. It takes a long time to get my body out of the room. My son’s wife is relieved. This kind of behavior would not have been tolerated on her side of the family. Death is something to be feared and ignored. She felt it was disrespectful for them to stay in here with a dead body. She tried to stay quiet, but everyone felt her disappointment. Me, I’m happy. I’m so happy that they stayed with me after I was gone. I felt so loved in the end.

Microstory 1629: Legend Has It

< > Table of Contents

Let’s get away from the depressing Darning War stories, and talk about something unrelated. I don’t want to say that this universe has nothing to do with the war—because sooner or later, the Ochivari find everyone—but the story itself will be about something else. This version of Earth only encountered one instance of time travel. One day, an underemployed twentysomething man living in his recently deceased grandmother’s house heard an explosion downstairs. His name was Legend, but he was anything but. He didn’t have any passions, or goals. He just went to work every day, and came home to his cat in the evening. It was his once grandmother’s cat, and it came with the house as a packaged deal. He was convinced it would outlive them all. When Legend went down to investigate the ruckus, the cat was just sitting in a chair on the back deck, having barely acknowledged the explosion in the kitchen. He didn’t expect her to run to his rescue, but it should have freaked her out. That thing could not be flapped. He crept around the corner, and looked in to find a naked woman about his age, brushing the dust off her skin. “Axel Quincy?” she presumed.

“Is that your name, errr...?”

“I thought you were Axel Quincy,” she said.

“Nope. Sorry. Wrong house. Never heard of him.” As it turned out, the woman was from the future, and desperately needed to find an engineering prodigy whose designs were this close to saving the world decades from now. He was destined to die sometime within the next two weeks, and only he could prevent disaster. He was unable to finish the plans for many of his inventions, and while the time traveler’s people were able to reverse engineer what they needed once the initial plans were discovered, they weren’t able to do so in time. They could have really benefited from having them already exist by the time any of them were even born. She had to find him, and save his life, so he could complete his work on his own, and be prepared to defend the planet against a terrible future. After a little sleuthing, they realized that the time machine had accidentally sent her to the wrong place. It wasn’t even the right country. She didn’t have any money, or a present-day identity, and she didn’t know how to drive, and she wasn’t familiar with the national borders, which were erased from the map when catastrophe struck the first time. Legend was her only hope now, even though he was nobody, and didn’t know anything about how to find some Canadian stranger who wasn’t going to be famously important until after his death. Still, he agreed to help, because it was the right thing to do. So the two of them set off on an adventure, along with the cat, and hijinks ensued. She tried to drive once, because he was too slow, so they had to wait for it to be repaired. Getting across the border was tough, because neither of them had a passport. The people they met along the way either tried to help and failed, or actively tried to stop them. They were running from the law, and a CEO who thought Legend was someone else; evidently someone who was a far greater threat to his freedom and wealth. They bickered and struggled, and of course became friends, and I won’t tell you how it ends. You’ll just have to see it for yourself, if you get a chance.