Showing posts with label grief. Show all posts
Showing posts with label grief. Show all posts

Sunday, August 24, 2025

The Advancement of Mateo Matic: August 1, 2514

Generated by Google Gemini Pro text-to-video AI software, powered by Veo 3
Ramses posited that the temporal energy that Boyd had absorbed when he blew up the crystal with lemon juice was basically all that was holding him together. Even after Mateo resurrected him from the afterlife simulation, he could not be saved forever. He knew this. Leona knew this. She also knew that it was only a matter of time before it killed him anyway, whether he was drained of the power or not. Temporal energy is really just time itself. You can have an excess of it, but if not properly stored, it will leak out as time passes, and that would have been the end of Boyd Maestri. She chose to not let his sacrifice go to waste, and to restore their own powers so that they could go on with the mission that he was intending to help them with. The role he was going to serve on the team now fell to Mateo. That was a problem for the future, though. Right now, they were going to honor their frenemy with a proper burial.
Everyone was here already. They were just waiting on Ramses, who was working on something in his lab. Mateo looked over at his daughter awkwardly. She glanced back at him, but quickly turned away again. He tried to look away too, but returned. She did another double-take. “What is it, dad?”
Mateo reached down and took a fold of her outfit between his fingers. “This isn’t your suit.”
“No, it’s real clothing,” she confirmed. “I went to Fashiondome, and sewed something myself. That’s what I’ve been doing all morning.”
“You know how to sew?”
“Yeah, I grew up thousands of years ago in the Third Rail. Of course I know how to sew.”
“Oh. That makes sense. I forget that about you.”
“Yeah.” Romana tried to go back to waiting patiently for Ramses.
“I know you’re an adult, it’s just that it’s a little—”
“Shh!” Leona warned before Mateo could finish his sentence.
Romana sighed, but continued to look straight forward. “Boyd liked my cleavage, and I choose to honor him in this way. This is a perfectly normal black funeral dress.” She said that she wasn’t angry at him for not being able to resurrect Boyd a second time, but there would always be that question between them of whether he genuinely tried, or if the part of him that didn’t want to save Boyd was big enough to stop it.
He looked on down the line at Olimpia. “And you?”
“You’re the one who likes my cleavage.” He didn’t say anything more, but she took the hint, and commanded her nanite clothing to cover her chest up a little more.
Ramses appeared. “Sorry, sorry, sorry. I had to come up with a way to safely dispose of temporal energy crystal.” While Mateo was trying to get Boyd back, and Romana was crying, Ramses had to delicately remove the shards from Boyd’s face. It wasn’t exactly trained as a medical examiner, but they couldn’t risk anyone else for the job, or really, trust them with it.
“It’s okay,” Mateo said. “You get on that end.”
“No,” Romana said. “I can carry it myself.”
Mateo looked at her sadly. “Romy, it’s unwieldy. You could hoist it over your shoulder, but you can’t carry it with the respect that he deserves.”
“Watch me.” Romana reached over the casket and tried to grab the handle on the other side. It wasn’t that she wasn’t strong enough. Her arms weren’t long enough.
“Let me get the other end,” Mateo offered. “He and I had our issues, which is exactly why I should do this. You wanted us to be friends, didn’t you? Or did you enjoy being in the middle of the animosity?”
She sighed again, relenting. “Okay, get the other end.”
Mateo and Romana carried Boyd down the trail as the others followed, or walked on ahead. “You spoke with Hrockas?” Leona asked.
Angela nodded. “This dome won’t be used for another fifty years, if ever. We’ll bury him deep, where there’s more activity while the regolith is being transformed into soil from chemicals they added to the water table.”
“Did he end up making an announcement?” Leona went on. “The first permanent death on the planet. That’s a big deal.”
Angela shook her head. “He’s burying the truth along with Boyd himself. No one needs to know that anyone died. Even though people are still allowing themselves to die on the Core Worlds, it could hurt visitorship. His death was completely unrelated to anything offered in the domes, so there’s no point in advertising or disclosing it.”
The two of them were talking rather quietly, and their comms were off, but everyone wearing an upgraded substrate had excellent hearing, so they all heard it. Romana was not upgraded, but even she heard it somehow. She glanced over her shoulder at Leona and Angela and frowned, but didn’t speak to them. She instead looked at Ramses, who was next to her. “People should know that he died, and what he died for. He sacrificed himself...for us.”
“You’re right,” Ramses said. “One of the hardest things we do is keeping our lives secret from the vonearthans. I know you know everything about that, living in the Third Rail for the majority of your life.”
Marie and Olimpia were in front, and had just rounded a corner when they suddenly stopped short. Olimpia nearly tripped on a rock, but caught herself in time.
“What is it?” Mateo questioned.
“There’s a man,” Marie answered. “He may have a weapon.”
“Set it on the ground,” Mateo ordered. He slowly bent his knees as his daughter did, and carefully set the casket down. “Wait here.” Mateo walked on alone, gently pulling the ladies’ shoulders back so this mysterious stranger wouldn’t be able to see them anymore. He did see a man, standing in the distance, resting both of his wrists on what appeared to be a shovel. Mateo used his telescopic vision to zoom in. “It’s Halifax.”
“Really?” Leona asked. She walked forward to get a look for herself.
“I recognize that name from the list,” Olimpia said.
“He’s The Gravedigger,” Mateo replied. “We’ve not seen him in a long time.” He looked back at Romana. “Not since the Third Rail.” He grabbed the casket again. “Let’s go. He’s no threat.”
They continued on their way. Halifax waited patiently where they first saw him. He was chewing on sunflower seeds, and spitting the shells off to the side. “I expected you sooner! Why didn’t you teleport here?”
“It’s a funeral procession,” Mateo explained. “You can’t teleport through a funeral procession.”
“No, s’pose not.”
“What are you doing here?” Mateo asked him.
“I’m here for him.” Halifax nodded at the body.
“Not many work orders from this time period, I would guess,” Mateo mused.
“Nope,” Halifax replied matter-of-factly.
“So he’s never coming back?” Leona asked.
Halifax took a beat. “No,” he answered solemnly. “He’ll be in good company,” he added after Mateo exchanged a look with Romana. The Cemetery magically appeared behind him, including a new open grave right behind him, and a second one a few meters away, which was alarming.
“Can we still do a green burial?” Romana asked, stepping forward. “It’s what he wanted.
“Is there any other kind?” Halifax responded.
Romana knelt down and started to unlock the casket. Mateo reached down, and covered her hand with his. “You don’t have to do this yourself. You don’t have to...see him like this.”
“That’s where you’re wrong, father.” She unlocked the other latch. “I do.” She lifted the lid, and stared at Boyd’s dead body for a few moments. Then she slipped her arms underneath his, and began to drag him out, across the ground, and over to the edge of the grave. She let go only to hop in, then took hold of Boyd again to pull him down on top of her. She lay there for another few moments, staring blankly into empty space. They gathered ‘round and watched her in reverence. Finally, she freed herself from him, stood up, and just teleported to the surface.
“Your dress,” Mateo pointed out.
“That’s why I wore something real,” Romana explained, “so it wouldn’t have a self-cleaning function.”
“Would you like to say a few words?” Halifax offered.
She stepped over, and looked into the grave with everyone else. “Boyd Maestri was not a perfect man. Like many of our kind, he took his power for granted. He made life harder for some people, like Dave Seidel and June St. Martin. But he never really hurt anyone. He wasn’t anywhere close to being evil. He was actually really sweet. And I wish that you had all been able to see more than just glimpses of that. But I’m at least glad that you got to see a little. I know you weren’t happy with our age gap. The truth is, it was wider than you even know. But he never pushed me, or pressured me. What he felt for me was love. I can’t say that I felt the same. Growing up the way that I did—skipping all that time—I couldn’t have real relationships. If I met someone, they would be dead in the blink of an eye. So yeah, when the first man who I could be honest with took an interest, I fell for him. As I said, he took his powers for granted, but he didn’t treat me the same. He was respectful, and kind, and he recognized my boundaries. I—” she stammered. “That’s it.” She stepped backwards, away from the grave.
“Anyone else?” Halifax asked.
Mateo was already pretty close to the grave, but he stepped closer, letting the toes of his shoes hover over the edge. “I forgive you.”
Romana hadn’t cried this whole time, but now she snapped her eyes shut, and scrunched her cheeks up, trying to hold the tears back, even though she knew that no one expected that of her. She buried her face in the safety of Olimpia’s bosom. Suddenly. Ellie Underhill climbed out of the second open grave. She tried to clap the dirt off of her hands, and wiped them on her skirt. Without saying anything first, she began to sing, “I just found a lemon tree. It’s a bad day for my enemies. Yes, there’s sugar water in the breeze, and I’m ready, I’m ready. So someone play guitar for me. I’m ready to leave my body.”
It was at this point that Olimpia pulled off her necklace, and joined in. “And oh, this could be rage. We’re flying to the space between the lies we told, and find the good in every soul is all connected energy, or how would I know you were thinking of me in the tree?” Only two of them were singing, but with Olimpia’s echo powers, it sounded more like a small chorus. They went on with the song, but skipped the instrumental break, since they were singing a capella. When they ended with the final two lines, “when all of the lights remain, this is all that our time contains,” Olimpia belted it out. Her voice roared up into the sky, and apparently tore a hole in spacetime. The Time Shriek answered back, echoing in its own way, just as Olimpia could.
Romana smiled as she wiped more tears from her eyes. “Boyd loved that scream. He thought it was so cool that so many people from so far away could hear the same thing.”
“You got to know him better than I realized,” Mateo said, wrapping his arms around her. “I’m sorry I didn’t make it easy on you.”
“It’s okay,” she assured him. “I understand. Or rather I don’t understand what it’s like to be a parent. But I will soon.” She smiled, and placed her palm on her belly.”
“No,” Mateo said, struck with dread, trying his best not to faint, or shout in rage.
“No, I’m kidding!” Romana said apologetically.
“Oh, god...dammit! Don’t do that to me!”
“Or me,” Ramses agreed surprisingly. “We would have to uninstall your EmergentSuit.” He looked around at the rest of the ladies. “That goes for all of you. I wouldn’t otherwise have the right to know if you’re pregnant, but...”
“We get it,” Marie said to him. “We’ll let ya know.”
“Thanks for coming, Ellie,” Leona said. “That was a very thoughtful and beautiful gift.”
“That wasn’t your gift,” Ellie said. “I just like to make an entrance.” She reached into her pocket. “This is your gift.” She pulled out a smooth red stone. Or was it made of glass? It looked familiar, but no one could place it right away. “The angry Russian I took it from wasn’t happy, but he and his daughter will be fine. I moved them somewhere safe.”
“The cap of the Insulator of Life,” Ramses exclaimed. “We’ve been wondering how those two got separated, and where this has been.”
“St. Petersburg, I guess.” Ellie looked from one to another, to another, but only with her eyes. “Is anyone gonna take this from my hand, errr...?”
Angela happened to be the closest, so she accepted it.
“Forgive me, but...this was a funeral gift?” Leona questioned. “Do they have those in Fort Underhill? I didn’t even think you had death.”
“No, it’s a wedding gift,” Ellie contended. She looked around at them again, but with her head this time. “Wait, what year is this?” She reached out and grabbed Leona’s wrist so she could look at her watch. “Whoops! Better go! Forget I said anything!” She ran off and hopped back into the portal grave.
“Well,” Olimpia said with a sigh. “I guess the cat’s out of the bag.” She reached into her own pockets, and pulled out two diamond rings. She held them in front of her. “Mateo and Leona Matic...will you marry me?”

Saturday, August 23, 2025

Extremus: Year 102

Generated by Google Flow text-to-video AI software, powered by Veo 3
There is a very old, and very sad, tradition on Ansutah, which gratefully, no one has had to practice in a very long time. Life was hard on the human continent. It was perfectly designed to be a protective haven from the white monsters, but that was pretty much it. They were limited technologically, because they still had to keep hidden from any Maramon who might stray too close. They couldn’t develop aeroplanes, fireworks, or even tall buildings. They made do, and their population eventually numbered in the billions, but that was thanks to the knowledge that they retained from their ancestors, who lived on post-industrial Earth. Had they been starting entirely from scratch, many experts posit that they would have gone extinct. Unfortunately, while they survived as a people, it did not come without loss.
Dead babies were once a fact of life, on Earth, as it was on Ansutah. Though they don’t receive much news from the stellar neighborhood all the way out here, the Extremusians believe that it’s still going on. There are holdouts, who refuse to adopt certain advances, including those which might save their own children’s lives. Such choices come with consequences. This did not happen in the Gatewood Collective. The refugees embraced modern technology, grateful to finally achieve a way of living that was safer, healthier, and less restrictive. No more dead babies, what more could they want? To not forget their past. History is a profoundly important subject to teach each subsequent generation. Not every kid likes it, nor do they grow up to change their minds, but they do recognize its value. There was a time when the bed of mourning ritual was a common practice, and they’re getting a practical history lesson on the subject today.
When someone died on Ansutah, a funeral or memorial service would start off the mourning process. They were superstitious that the scent of the decaying corpse would attract the white monsters, alerting them to their location. The body was buried deep to hide them, and they were buried quickly. For many years, there was a debate about whether they should start performing autopsies on their deceased when the circumstances called for it. Many murders went unsolved because this belief was so ingrained in the culture that medical examiners had very little time to perform proper inquiries. This technique of a quick burial was also used when it was a child who died, but this created a secondary problem. Especially in the case of infants, there were few—or even no—images of their loved one. There was little to remember them by. Often, the only thing they had that remained was their bed. Often, not even that existed yet, and there was an entire industry that specialized in single-use cribs.
With the body of the child gone too soon, their bed was left temporarily empty, and the Ansutahan humans believed that the angels would not be able to find their soul so deep underground. The belief did not extend to adults, for their soul should be strong enough to seek the angel’s gate on its own. To help the angels find her child’s soul, the mother was expected to drag the child’s little bed out into the cemetery, lie in it the best they could...and cry. Her wails of pain would bring the ferrying angel to her, where they would find the child’s soul below, and rescue it. She would not be alone, at least not at first. Friends and family would attend the ritual, just as they had the funeral. They would not stay forever, though. While the mother continued to mourn, and the father or partner continued to try to comfort her, little by little, the visitors would leave. The first to go were anyone who just wanted to be there for the family for a fleeting moment, who did not know them at all. The next ones were passing acquaintances. And the dance continued until only the mother and father remained. And then...the father would leave as well. That is the most depressing part. The lessons in this are that you are ultimately alone, and that everyone leaves eventually. When that angel comes to retrieve your soul, it comes only for you. No one can be there with you. No one can see you. Not even your mother. For once she has been alone in that bed of mourning for some time, she too will leave. The bed, the body, and the place in their hearts where the child once lived, will finally be empty forever.
Audrey is in her bed of mourning right now, and Tinaya is standing nearby, in irony. It feels like five minutes ago when she was scolding the medical team, and the other conspirators who betrayed the public with their secret plan to impregnate however many women on this ship without their consent. Now it is she who is lying to their people. Audrey’s baby is not dead. She is being kept in a secure location while they put on this little charade. It is not entirely a lie, however. Audrey will never see her daughter again. That is called an ambiguous loss, and it can be just as impactful and saddening as an unambiguous one. Once this is over, she will give the child a name, say her goodbyes, then watch her disappear into the mini-Nexus that they have in the Admiral office. Audrey, Tinaya, Silveon, Arqut, Thistle, and one other person are the only ones who will know what truly happened to the girl. Everyone else is in the dark, including the baby’s father. That sixth person is presently caring for the baby until it’s time to leave. It’s someone they can trust, but whose absence will not be noticed at the ritual.
Waldemar is hovering over the crib. He is incapable of feeling certain emotions, but he has become better at pretending. Tinaya can tell that he’s faking it. She even caught a glimpse of the nanopuffer that he used to induce tearing in his eyes. He still doesn’t quite have the facial expression right. It’s overexaggerated, like what they show in cartoons, so young viewers can tell with certainty which emotion is being displayed. Arqut is gifted at reading people. He’s scanning the crowd for any indications that anyone is clocking Waldemar’s performance. He hasn’t seen any skeptics so far, but they may be exceptionally emotionally intelligent too, and pretending not to notice. One day, everyone will know what Waldemar truly is. That day is unavoidable, but they hope to put it off until there are no longer any innocent people in his orbit. That may be an impossible task too, especially now that Audrey is in so much more of a vulnerable position than she was before the baby.
People are really starting to leave now. They’re in Attic Forest. It’s not expansive enough to fit everyone on the ship comfortably, but they’re not all trying anyway. Some strangers want to be there, but some are just living their lives, or have to be at work. This is the first dead child in a very long time, so it is absolutely noteworthy, but that doesn’t mean everyone has to be involved somehow. Even so, there were a lot of people before, and now, it’s mostly empty. Even Lataran is walking away now. A few random visitors are here because they want to walk around the forest, but the Captain’s people are asking them to leave, because that’s not really appropriate at the moment, even if they are clear on the other side. Tinaya wants to be the last one to stay with the sad couple, but she’s only the mother of a friend of the mother. The families need to go through the final steps alone. Captain Jennings will stick around until it’s time for Waldemar and Audrey to be there alone, though. Waldemar’s mother is still a hot mess, and kind of needs supervision, and he’s perfect for this role because he can go anywhere he wants, and he always carries a good excuse with him.
Tinaya and her family are currently standing outside while Audrey’s parents depart. Audrey overwrote her younger self’s consciousness at an older age than Silveon did, so she was able to hide her maturity from them. They have no idea that she’s from the future. She thinks that Waldemar took advantage of her, and they are pursuing legal action in this regard, which is a whole other thing that they’re going to have to deal with, one way or another. They’re not exactly right, but they’re not wholly wrong either. Waldemar is not a good guy, but it’s unclear what happens to the future if he goes to hock. Will he still become a leader, and if he does, will he be worse than he was in the previous timeline? Will all of Silveon and Audrey’s efforts be for naught?
Immediately after Audrey’s parents round the corner, Waldemar steps out too. He’s supposed to stay in there with his baby’s mother for longer than that, but he’s not feeling anything but annoyed with what this might do to his ambitious plans. He nods politely at the three of them, then walks away. Audrey is now alone in there. Waldemar was right about one thing, there is no need to drag this out. “Meet us in my office.” Tinaya teleports back to the crib, helps Audrey climb out of it, and then waits patiently as Audrey tries to wipe the tears out of her eyes.
“Did I do okay?” Audrey asks.
“That was perfect,” Tinaya answers.
“Believable?” Audrey presses.
“You are in mourning, Audrey. You weren’t faking anything.”
“No, it’s fine. She’s fine. She’s gonna grow up on a planet. That’s everyone’s dream. That’s why we’re here.” She’s smiling, but her tear ducts continue to leak.
“Aud. You’re sad. I would be very concerned if you weren’t. I wouldn’t let you see her again.”
“I know,” Audrey admits. “I’m just trying to be strong, because it’s going to be hard to watch her leave.”
“I can only imagine what you’re going through,” Tinaya responds with a nod. “But you are right. She’s going to be happy there. The only thing that she’ll be missing is you. I know that sounds like I’m trivializing you, or your contribution, but you’re gonna need to make a clean break, and being optimistic about her future is vital to that, for your own sake.”
“I agree.”
“Are you ready?”
She wipes more moisture from her cheeks. “Yes.”
They take hands, and Tinaya attempts to teleport to the entrance to Admiral Hall, but they end up somewhere else. “Thistle? Where the hell are we?”
This is a sealed chamber in a currently vacant sector of the ship. You can only enter through a teleportation frequency of my own devising. I built a clone lab here.
Tinaya is confused and apprehensive. “...why...?”
It’s a gift,” Thistle replies. “Turn to your left.
They both turn to find a gestational pod. It lights up. A copy of Audrey is floating inside. “What did you do?”
I understand that one Audrey Husk must stay behind on the ship to fulfill her mission, but that does not mean that a different Audrey can’t travel to Verdemus, and raise her child. I know that it’s not the same thing, but my own consciousness has been copied countless times, split across multiple universes, injected into countless systems and devices. You will get used to the knowledge that there is another you out there.
“We did not discuss this at all,” Tinaya begins to scold. “You had no right to build this, let alone that clone. It is a violation, on par with what the medical team did with the faulty birth control.” She keeps going on with her admonishment against the superintelligence.
Meanwhile, Audrey has slowly been approaching the pod. She’s looking at herself in there, tilting her head in thought. “Thank you.” She says it quietly, but Tinaya can hear it.
“What was that? You’re thanking him?”
Audrey ignores the question. “Have you already copied my consciousness?”
A light flickers on over a casting pod on the other side of the room. “Not yet.
Audrey nods as she’s slowly walking towards the second pod. “Sedate me. Copy me. Do not reawaken either of us until one Audrey and the baby are on the other side of the Nexus. It doesn’t matter which one you send away. There is a fifty percent chance that I will simply awaken in my cabin, and an equal chance that I will awaken on the planet.”
“That’s one way to look at it,” Tinaya says. “Others would say that there’s a hundred percent chance that you’re the copy, and a hundred percent chance that you’re not. Both of you will think that you’re the original, and one of you will be just as disappointed as the other would have been.”
Audrey spins back around. “I am a consciousness traveler already, Admiral Leithe. I understand the philosophical ramifications of the process, better than you ever could. This is my choice. One of us is gonna stay here as Space-Beth, and the other...will be happy.”
“Audrey...”
“She will be happy planetside...with Silvia.”

Sunday, August 3, 2025

The Advancement of Mateo Matic: July 29, 2511

Generated by Google Gemini Pro text-to-video AI software, powered by Veo 3
At the end of the day, despite the fact that he was in a computer simulation, Mateo jumped forward a year. By the time his IDcode returned to the circuits or whatever, Brian Hiddy had gone off to see what Fort Underhill was all about, and Cecelia Massey was training to be a counselor. Mateo told them that he would be disappearing, but Keilix didn’t really believe it, because it didn’t fall into the category of standard behavior for the program. But that was how Tamerlane Pryce wanted it when he agreed to resurrect Mateo, and even though the latter had since moved on to a new substrate in the physical realm, the rule remained. He only lived for one day every year, and only a few things could alter that pattern.
“Well, what happens when you move on to the other universe?” Cecelia asked. “Does it stop then?” Obviously, during the interim year, she was able to get past the five stages of grief, and come into her own in this new world. She was more relaxed, more self-confident, and there was just a sparkle in her eyes. Though, to be fair, that could have been an avatar modification. There were no limits here. She could make herself look like a cross between a rabbit and a dog if she so desired.
“No, I stay on my pattern,” Mateo explained. “It doesn’t matter what kind of body I end up with. It’s how my brain is wired. You rewire it, my pattern might go away, but then I’m not me anymore.”
“Your brain rewires itself constantly,” Keilix reasoned. “You might be able to grow out of it one day.”
“I’m sure Pryce thought of that in his design. It’s not like I want to anyway. My friends are still on this pattern, and if I were to get off of it, I would be waiting for them for tens of thousands of years, and that’s assuming they live a normal human life span.”
“But you say you’ve not only been to the afterlife simulation,” Cece began, “but you also visited Ford Underhill afterwards.”
“Briefly.”
“So your friends can just find you there. This Hogarth woman might even let you leave, and go right back to them. You said you were friends with her too, right?”
“More like a family friend.” Mateo shrugged.
“It sounds like your best option is to resurrect a second time,” Keilix decided. “You’ll be in a different reality, but at least it’s at base level.”
“That’s true,” Mateo admitted. He lifted his chin and breathed in that crisp, digital air. “Well, tell me what to do.”
Keilix smiled. “Cece, why don’t you handle this one on your own?”
“Really?”
“He’s a pro. It’ll be a good, safe practice.”
“Thank you.” Cecelia was grateful.
“Is it unsafe?” Mateo asked after saying goodbye to Keilix.
“It’s not, like, physically unsafe,” Cece began to explain. “It’s just a delicate process. Your mind doesn’t get downloaded into a body the way it would in the living world. We can’t just plug your IDCode to the right port. It’ll make more sense when we get to the lake, but you have to be sure that this is what you want. You have to will yourself over to the other side.”
“Ah. The prebiotic lake needs to know who you are, and what you want.”
She laughed. “She’s right, you’re a pro.
He was less of a pro, and more of a good listener. He never went to this magical lake before, but Lowell talked about it the last time they saw each other.
They continued to walk in silence. This was a journey, and a profound one at that, so the program didn’t involve simply teleporting to their point of egress, even though that would be easy to implement. Of course, Mateo didn’t need this experience—it wouldn’t be the first time he came back to life—but Cece needed the practice as a transition facilitator. It was important that he let her do this the right way.
They arrived at the lake. It was totally open, but apparently protected by an invisible force field. Or really, it was just that not everyone could pass through. It was all just code. “Hey, Sir Bro,” Cecelia casually said to an old man as they passed by.
Sir Bro was trying to break into the lake area, but that programming was holding him back every time. He just kept banging his shoulder against it, and punching it, but it was unclear whether he was feeling any pain, or what.
Mateo and Cecelia simply passed right through. “I thought the lake would take anyone who wanted to go. He looks ready to me.”
Cecelia shook her head. “You don’t need to whisper. It doesn’t matter what he hears. To answer your question, the lake is not the problem. He’s been banned from Fort Underhill. The color-coded levels you may recall from your first time here are defunct, but some people have more privileges than others.”
“Wait.” Mateo stopped. He looked back up the slight incline where the old man was still trying to force his way in. “Surely Sir Bro is not his real name.”
Cece giggled. “No, that’s just what he wants us to call him. I can’t remember what it was, though. It was something stupid, like Broken...or Braydeck.”
“Bronach?” Mateo questioned.
“Yeah, that’s it! Do you know him too?”
Mateo sighed. “Unfortunately.” He huffed and reluctantly headed back up the trail. “Can you hear me?”
“Of course I can, Mister Matic,” The Oaksent replied.
“Are you old, or do you just look old?”
“I’ve always been old.”
“How did you end up in this time period? You’re still alive, out there in the Goldilocks Corridor, as far as I know.”
“That is a quantum duplicate of me,” Bronach explained. “A piss-poor approximation, if you ask me, in fact.”
“What happens if you get through this obviously 100% impenetrable barrier, and get back there? Will you and your other self have words? Or worse?”
“He knows that I am the rightful heir to the empire. He’ll step down.”
Mateo looked over his shoulder at Cece, who didn’t know what to make of this interaction. “Goddammit,” he uttered as he was turning back around. He reached through the barrier, took Old!Bronach by the elbow, and pulled him through. “You owe me everything for this.”
“How did you do that?” Cece asked, stunned. “People have actually tried. They did exactly what you just did, but couldn’t make it work.”
“Being exempt from the rules that everyone else has to follow is sort of my thing.” Mateo continued to hold onto Bronach as he was dragging him towards the edgewater. “Do we have to take our clothes off, or something!” he shouted as they were stepping in.
“You’re not wearing any clothes!” Cece yelled back. That was technically true.
Mateo turned himself and Bronach around. “What do we do now!”
She stepped down closer so they wouldn’t have to yell anymore. “Wade out until the water reaches your chin, then just start to float. Whenever you’re ready...”
“Thanks, Cece,” Mateo replied. “And tell Keilix that I’m going to try to get a message back here with a little bit more info on what it’s like on the other side.”
“That’s very kind of you. We’ll be waiting,” she said with a smile.

“We’ve been waiting too long,” Leona said.
“Just be patient,” Romana replied. Since yesterday, the two of them had kind of flipped their reactions to this situation, with Leona growing ever anxious, and Romana becoming calmer.
“If she’s a pathfinder—which I had never heard of—shouldn’t our paths have crossed as soon as we got to this universe? Shouldn’t she have pretty much been waiting for us?”
“If you hadn’t heard of them before,” Romana began to reason, “how do you know how they operate?”
“They sound a whole lot like seers to me, and guiding people to the right place at the right time is their whole function in our society.”
“Perhaps it’s the right place, but not the right time,” Angela determined.
It was a long journey to get here, but it wasn’t too complicated. For the Rock diplomatic discussions on the Vellani Ambassador, General Bariq Medley and Judy Schmidt represented the copy of the main sequence that ended up in the Sixth Key. Due to some events that no one on Team Matic had any details on, Bariq and Judy ended up fostering two extremely powerful temporal manipulators. These children grew up, and evidently solved the resource distribution problem in their galaxy by creating a brand new universe. It was here that they could spread out, and not worry about who was going to get what. This was where Leona, Romana, and Angela were now, having crossed over through an transuniversal aperture conduit that was as well organized as the border between two countries. They didn’t travel to any place in particular, upon the advisement of Romana, who said wherever they went, the pathfinder would find them. She was very confident about this, even though this pathfinder probably couldn’t be in two places at once, and there were likely plenty of others who needed her assistance.
So now they were just waiting, unsure if anything was going to go their way, or if they were wasting time that could be used to find Mateo by other means. They were alone in this lounge, so whenever anyone happened to walk by, they would perk up their ears, and hope to see someone who could help. This time, it was a small group of men, so they slumped back in the couch. “Hey. Angela. Angela Walton?”
“Yeah. Do I know you?”
“It’s Pável!” the man said. “Pável Románov?”
“Oh, Pasha!” Angela said, standing up. They gave each other a familiar, but not overly affectionate, hug.
“This woman,” Pável said, looking back at Leona and Romana, as well as his own friends. “She saved my life. She did it after I was dead!”
“Oh, it wasn’t all that,” Angela insisted.
“No, it was everything. I heard you became a counselor.”
“Yeah.”
“Yeah, I’m not surprised.” Pável responded. “Before it was her actual job to help people, she would volunteer to visit orange hockers in an attempt to rehabilitate them. I tell you, before I met Angie, I was a violent tyrant. It would not be an exaggeration to say that I was sick in the head. My insane policies ultimately culminated in my assassination, after which I basically found myself in hell. I was locked up in a prison. We didn’t really understand computer simulations back then, but there was literally no escape. But she came to me, and got me out of it. She fixed me. And by the time the afterlife realm was taken down, I was a Level Six Plus Indigo.” He straightened up a bit, and stood there proudly. “I’m living proof that people can change, but I couldn’t have done it without her.”
“It’s nice to hear that, and it’s nice to see you again,” Angela told him.
“What are you doing here in The Eighth Choice?” Pável asked.
“We’re looking for a friend,” Angela answered. “What are you doing here? It’s pretty far from Fort Underhill.”
Pável smiled, prouder still. “The leadership from both universes are developing an immigration program. One day, people will be allowed to move freely through the conduits, and even establish permanent residency on the other side from where they were. I have familiarized myself with the design of the matrioshka bodies over here, and give tours as a sort of liaison.”
“That’s very interesting,” Angela said. “I’m happy for you.”
“Thank you.” Pável looked back at his tourists. “Listen, I better get back to it, but here’s my quantum identifier. Call me if you’re ever in the neighborhood.” He beamed his contact information from his wristband to Angela’s EmergentSuit. She beamed hers back. “It was great seeing you again.”
“Yeah, same,” she said as he was walking away. “I probably haven’t seen that guy in over 300 years,” she added after he was out of earshot.
“I think you and Marie need to tell us more about your afterlife,” Leona decided. “You must have so many stories.”
“I have a few,” Angela acknowledged.
Just then, a woman came around the same corner Pável had. “All right. I’m ready to go now.”
“Are you the pathfinder?” Leona asked.
“Yes, she is,” Romana said. Now it was her turn to hug. “Leona, Angela. This is Jessie Falstaff. She’s our pathfinder.”
“Oh, it’s nice to meet you,” Leona said. “Did you wait to come here so Angela could run into her old friend first?” She gestured in the direction of where Pável ran off to.
Jessie looked over in that direction on reflex. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. Pathfinders aren’t seers. We don’t see what’s going to happen. We more just feel it. My gut told me to be here at this moment. If you lucked into having an encounter before then, I’m guessing that’s why I waited, but that’s not something I could have known. I don’t even know why I’m here now.”
“My husband—her father—is missing. His name is Mateo Matic.”
Jessie had been all right before—comfortable, and ready to help—but now her face sunk. She frowned, and looked down towards the floor. She also reached for her torso as if experiencing stomach cramps. “Oh,” she said in a breathy, strained voice.
“Oh, what?”
The look of horror on Jessie’s face only grew. “I think he’s dead.”

Sunday, July 27, 2025

The Advancement of Mateo Matic: July 28, 2510

Generated by Google Flow text-to-video AI software, powered by Veo 3
Mateo woke up lying facedown in the dirt. He stood himself up, and looked around. He definitely wasn’t in the train station anymore, but that didn’t tell him much. Any number of domes looked like this, with the lush jungle, and the clear blue sky. There was something extremely familiar about it, though, especially when he looked down over the edge of the mountain that he was on, and saw smoke billowing up from the valley. This was what he woke up to just before he learned that he was in the afterlife simulation. He took another look around, now with fresh eyes. Yeah, this was exactly what it looked like. He could have been dreaming, or it could have been something that Hrockas found out about, and recreated it in one of the domes. But why, though?
The only answers were in the direction of that smoke, so he started walking down towards it. No one else came out of the trees to do the same, so at least that much was different. He continued on down until he reached the amphitheater, just as he had the first time he died. No, it wasn’t the first. Ah, who could keep count?
A woman was on stage, smiling kindly, and waiting for him patiently. She was pressing a clipboard into her belly, which she glanced back down to now. “Mateo Matic?”
“Indeed.”
“Have a seat,” the clipboard lady offered, pointing towards the seating. “We’re waiting for one more.”
Only one other person was sitting there already. It was another woman, perhaps in her thirties. She looked scared and-or nervous. He left two seats between them. “Hey,” he tried to say in the calmest voice he had. “It’s gonna be okay.”
“Am I dead?”
“You may have died, but you survived it.” He inhaled, and admired the digital beauty surrounding them. “And you’ll go on...indefinitely. Your life now will be longer than your first one was. In a trillion years, you might not even remember it.”
“You act like you’ve done this before.”
He nodded. “I have. They let me go back, because I had more work to do in base reality, but now... Now I think I’ll just wait for my friends to join me. Could be a while. We’ll all be okay, though.”
The woman stood up, and sidestepped over to sit right next to him. She remained there for a moment before working up the nerve to give him a hug.
The counselor smiled at them, but didn’t say anything. She then looked up as the last guy was jogging down the hill.
“Sorry! Sorry, I see smoke, my instinct is to move away from it, not towards it.”
“It’s all right, Brian. We have all the time in the world.”
“Cool.” He sat down on Mateo’s other side.
“Hello, my name is Keilix Oliver, and as you have all surmised, you have died. Fortunately for you, some people long ago decided that they didn’t like death, so they built a computer program where the deceased could live on in a simulation. That simulation has since been defunct. They were hosted by a powerful society of advanced intelligences who grew to see them more as a nuisance, and a bit of a power hog. Do not be alarmed, though, because the 120 billion or so people who were in there at the time managed to escape—if you can believe it—to another universe. I don’t know that much about it as I have never been there. You see, when the hosts discovered that the identities in the simulation had all left, they actually didn’t bother to shut it down. It was no longer taking up too many resources, and there didn’t seem to be any reason to end it. That is how I survived, as did a few others.
“To explain a little more, the sim was not one single world. You could travel between different environments, each with their own laws of simulated physics. I just so happened to be in the middle of traveling between two of these worlds when the evacuation happened. Lots of people were doing that, of course, but they were closer to one side, or the other. I was right in the middle, so when I came out on the other side, I was alone. I didn’t make it through evacuation. Didn’t know how. Didn’t even know that it happened. I was just confused. The hosts discovered our presence—the rounding errors—and brought us all together. They offered to facilitate our exit to join the others in the new universe, which a few of us agreed to. The rest, we stayed here to keep the lights on. If we didn’t, when you died, you would just be dead.” She gestured towards all the empty seats. “As you can see, death is quite rare these days. The mortality rate used to be at 100%, but now life is a lot safer. It still happens. Accidents and errors, and people who just never upgraded from their normal organic bodies. You are three of the exceptions. You are the only three who died today. Well, it was yesterday, but... And you died a year ago, or something?”
“Yeah, it gets screwy,” Mateo admitted.
Keilix nodded. “Anyway, you can stay here if you want. The hosts did eventually dismantle and cannibalize most of the servers that the afterlife simulation was running on, but we still have plenty of space for a moderate population. You can also move on to the other universe, if you’re interested. Again, I can’t tell you anything about it, but I hear it’s nice. You can’t go back home, though. Your friends and family can’t find out what the endgame is. We don’t know for sure what would happen, but there’s a strong chance that people would start killing themselves out of pure curiosity. We just can’t handle that many people anymore. The system only works at this scale, because deaths have become so few and far between.”
“Did you know Serkan Demir?” Mateo blurted out.
Keilix smirked. “Yeah.”
“Cool.” He turned towards the other guy. “Did you know Lincoln Rutherford?”
“Yeah, I went to school with him.”
“Small world.”
“Do we have a connection?” the newly dead woman asked Mateo.
“I dunno, what’s your name?”
“Cecelia Massey.”
Mateo reached for his bag to check whether she was on a list of people he had met or ever heard of, but realized that he no longer had any possessions. “No, I don’t think I’ve heard of you. Nice to meet you, Cece. I’m Mateo.”
“The three amigos!” Brian shouted. “Four!” He pointed at Keilix. “You’re part of this too. Four, uhh...four musketeers!”
Keilix laughed. “That’s very sweet of you, but my job is here. While people don’t die as often as they once did, they still do occasionally, and someone ought to be there to greet them, and facilitate their transition.”
“How did you get this job?” Cecelia asked.
“I just stepped up,” Keilix answered. “Why? Are you interested?”
“I was a guidance counselor on Earth before I became obsolete. So I do have the experience. Do I have to choose right away, or can I change my mind later?”
“If you choose to stay here,” Keilix began, “you can always move on later. But if you choose to move on, I don’t think you can come back. I’ve never heard of it. I don’t even know who’s in charge over there.”
“Her name is Hogarth Pudeyonavic,” Mateo answered, even though she didn’t actually ask a question.
Keilix is surprised by this. She looked back down at her clipboard. “How do you know that?”
“We’re friends,” Mateo explained.
“Interesting. What else do you know?”
“How much time you got?”
“All of it,” Keilix said.

“All of what?” Leona asked as she was walking across Ramses’ secret lab.
“His EmergentSuit nanites,” Ramses answered. “I need them all back. Or rather he needs them back.”
“He doesn’t have them?” she questioned.
“Boyd must have been injured, however slightly, when Mateo gave him the suit. It’s not just designed to form a protective barrier. They can also treat medical conditions, just like any other medical nanites. Some of them must have stayed with him to conduct repairs, and are still swimming in his blood.”
“Well, they should be done by now. It’s been hours. So go ahead and take them,” Leona ordered. “You’re not trying to hold onto them, are you?” she posed to Boyd.
“I have no mental control over them,” Boyd replied.
“He’s right. Only I can do it. They’re not responding to my commands, though,” Ramses said to her. “They’re his now. I just need to keep trying...”
“Well, why do you need them? How does it help Mateo?”
“Each one stores little bits of data from their host,” Ramses began. “If we want to bring him back, I think I need that intact data. We’re lucky we even have a chance. If he didn’t have any nanites at all, we would have no way to anchor him to this point in spacetime.”
“I don’t understand why you can’t find him,” Leona complained to Boyd. “Isn’t that your thing?”
“Until we get that time power crystal switched off, I don’t have my normal powers,” Boyd said apologetically.
“We’re almost there!” Olimpia shouted from the other side of the room. She and the twins were responsible for figuring out how to convert the lemon DNA into musical chords. Once complete, they will blast the crystal with the music, and let it play over the course of the next two years, which for them, will only feel like two days.
Leona sighed. “He could be anywhere, anywhen.”
“I know that,” Ramses agreed. “This is all I can do. The ladies are smart enough to wire an array of speakers, and my AI finished converting the DNA last year to musical chords. It’s a bit above my paygrade, to be blunt, so I need to focus on an alternative way of retrieving Mateo from wherever he ended up.”
It looked like Mateo was there, lying on the exam table between Leona and Ramses. But it wasn’t him. It was just his suit; an empty shell waiting for its host to return. “What if Boyd got back in the suit? Could that...trigger the stray nanites to return to their brethren?”
“Yeah, I thought about that,” Ramses admitted. “It might work, or they might all switch to him as their new host, and then Mateo could be lost forever.”
“I can do it,” Boyd insisted. “You get that crystal turned off, I’ll find him for us.”
“Forgive me if I have little faith in your motivation to help,” Leona said.
“That’s fair,” Boyd acknowledged, “but I really did learn a lot on the fake Castlebourne. I have grown. I’m not a saint, but I’m not the same man you met those years ago.”
“I’ll believe it when I see it. Ram, keep working. Boyd, do whatever he says. And ladies!” The three of them stopped working, and looked up at their captain, so she went on, “I need one of you. Romana has an idea, but we need a third to activate the tandem slingdrives.”
“I’ll go,” Olimpia volunteered.
“I’m sorry, I meant one of the Waltons,” Leona countered.
Olimpia frowned.
“Pia, you have sonic powers. I need you on the music thing. That just makes sense. If we needed a driver, I would ask Mateo to be a part of it, even if it’s driving a giant futuristic terraforming tiller piloted by an AI.”
“I’ll go,” Angela said, setting her screwdriver down, allowing her sister to finish rigging up the speaker apparatus.
Leona and Angela teleported away to meet up with Romana, who was sitting on the edge of an emerald pool, under a dome fittingly named 10,000 Emerald Pools. She was staring into the water, obviously aware that they had arrived, but ignoring them for now. “What do you see in there?” Angela asked her. “They say the pool reflects your true self back at you.”
Romana, frowning, slapped the water before standing up. “I see an orphan.”
“We’ll get him back,” Leona assured her. 
“You can’t promise that.”
“If he died,” Leona started, pausing dramatically, “we’ll get him back from that too. There is nowhere he could be that we couldn’t find him. Now, what’s your idea? Where are we going?”
Romana activated her suit, helmet and all. The other two followed her lead. They took each other’s hands. “We’re going to a new universe, called The Eighth Choice. I know a Pathfinder there.”

Sunday, December 22, 2024

The Advancement of Mateo Matic: June 27, 2479

Generated by Google Gemini Advanced text-to-image AI software, powered by Imagen 3
The thing about these magical tethers was that there would be no more sneaking off alone; to protect the others, to escape from them, or for any other reason. Mateo was famous for this, breaking free from the group, and that was no longer an option, for they would always be able to find him. It was funny how one of the first things that happened to him was that he came into possession of a metal business card that could whisk him away whenever he needed it to, but he couldn’t do that without telling anyone. Either way, it was really important that he give this support group therapy thing a chance. So he decided to tell them about it. He didn’t tell them everything, though.
“Do you even know where it takes you?” Leona asked.
“Dr. Hammer seems to be more comfortable in the 21st century, so I’m guessing sometime around then,” Mateo answered.
“Who gave this to you?” Ramses had his arm outstretched, waiting to receive the rendezvous card for examination.
“I’m not at liberty to say...and I’m not giving it to you. It doesn’t need to be studied, I know what it is.”
“No, you don’t,” Leona argued. “It could deliver you to a special prison where we couldn’t track you, and wouldn’t be able to teleport into if we ever did manage to find it.”
“It’s not that. I trust the person who gave it to me,” Mateo explained. “And if it is, we’ll deal with it. We always come out on top.”
“Yeah, because we’re cautious, thoughtful, and prepared,” Angela said. “You’re being neither of those things right now.”
“I’m wearing my suit, aren’t I?” Mateo defended.
She rolled her eyes.
“If you trust it, I trust it too,” Olimpia decided. She gave him a kiss on the lips. Besides, you need a range test, don’t you, Ram?”
“Well, I guess, but I wasn’t gonna—”
“Asked and answered!” Olimpia declared. “No further questions.”
“I need this,” Mateo said to the whole team, but mostly to Leona. “I’m losing my mind. I’m willing to take the risk that it’s a trap, especially since I really don’t think that it is. The way it was given to me...it would have been easier just to abduct me right then and there. I wouldn’t have had time to say goodbye.”
Ramses sighed. “Hold it up, balancing it between your fingers on the edges.”
Mateo did so.
“Turn it around,” Ramses added. “All right, I have at least some data. Proceed.”
Mateo gave Leona a kiss, and then gave another to Olimpia. As he turned around to give himself some space, she slapped him on the ass. He was going to say one more thing, but the slap made him drop the card, which activated it, and spirited him away.
He found himself standing on a gently sloping rock floor, inside of a glass tunnel. He was facing the ocean, which made him feel centered and calm. He stared at it through the window, noticing how there was no door leading to the outside. After a few moments, he turned around, and headed for the door to the building.
A vaguely humanoid, but still very mechanical, robot was sitting at what resembled a reception desk. “Hello, and welcome to the Center for Temporal Health on Ilha da Queimada Grande. My name is Defghij. Please present your rendezvous card, so that I may check you in.”
Mateo padded his suit, even though he knew it couldn’t be there. “Oh, crap. Where does it go when you use it?”
“Usually the ground.”
“Lookin’ for this?” It was Leona, holding up his card. What was she doing here?
He carefully took it, maintaining eye contact with her as he handed it to the robot. “How are you here? Why? Who?”
“I’m not your Leona,” she replied. “I’m from an old timeline.”
“Our twins,” Mateo realized. That was why she needed the therapy.
My twins,” she corrected. “You had nothing to do with it.”
He dropped his gaze, and deepened his frown. “We can’t be in the same session.” He looked back up to her to see how she felt about that.
“I agree, which is why we’re not. You still need to go through orientation.”
“She’s right,” Defghif confirmed, presenting his card back for him. “Down the hall, to the left, through the door that leads to Dr. Hammer’s office.”
He couldn’t stop staring at the alternate version of his wife. “You don’t think we should talk, about what happened?”
“About how your wife lost the children that I had,” Alt!Leona asked. “No.” She handed Defghij her own card for check-in. It was black, rather than silver. She noticed that he noticed. “It’s like a mood ring, except it actually works. Once yours is tethered to you, it will change colors accordingly.” Another goddamn tether. Great.
Mateo finally took his card back. “I’m sorry. I’m guessing black isn’t good.”
She watched it in her own hand as she flipped it around between her fingers like a magician preparing to make it disappear. “It doesn’t mean sad, it means...empty.”
He couldn’t help himself. He took her hands in his, and leaned forward to kiss her on the forehead. “Even though you’re not my Leona, you can always count on me. Whether we’re in the same group session, or not, I can be here for you. You don’t have to feel empty.”
Her card was still mostly black, but specks of blue began to shine through like stars on the firmament. He noticed that she noticed, and he saw her tuck it away up her sleeve. “I have to go. Good luck.” She walked past him, down the hall, and to the right.
Mateo looked back over at Defghij. “Your name is part of the alphabet.”
“My creator wasn’t particularly creative.”
“Have a nice day,” he said as he was walking towards Dr. Hammer’s office.
“Hey, that’s my line!”
Mateo knocked on the door. After a few seconds, it opened on its own.
Dr. Hammer wasn’t at her desk, but someone shorter was filing something in the cabinet, facing away from him. “Have a seat, Mister Matic.” She finished what she was doing while he sat down. When she turned around, he saw that he knew her.
“Siria Webb. It’s been a long time for me.”
“As well as for me,” Siria said. She sat down on the other side of the desk.
“Could you tell me what year it is?”
“It’s the year 216 of the common era,” she replied.
“That’s early.”
“That’s the point.”
“What’s this place? Where are we?”
“Snake Island,” Siria began. “As you can imagine, there are a ton of snakes here. There are no doors to the outside, so if you were a teleporter, we would caution you to not even try.”
“I am a teleporter,” Mateo corrected.
“Oh. You are? I think we need to update your records.”
He nodded. It didn’t matter to him either way. “What are the next steps?”
“First, we must link you to your card. This will prevent anyone else from using it, and allow you to access all of its features.” She walked over to the side wall, and opened what Mateo thought was just a cabinet. She pulled a sort of morgue drawer from it, having to move the second visitor’s chair out of the way. “I promise, it won’t hurt.”
“What other features does it have?”
Meditation apps, coping skills, and other lessons. It can hold photos of your loved ones, even if you don’t have any to upload, as it can pull the images from your memory. There’s also a, uhh...”
“A what?” Why was she nervous to answer?
“It’s an orgasm button.” She was still rather uncomfortable to be explaining this, but was holding it together. “Sometimes a sexual release is all you need to get through the day, and this is quicker and easier. I should warn you, though, that it keeps track of when you use it, and Dr. Hammer can see the logs, so she may bring it up if that’s, like, all you do all day. It also tracks your vitals, which she’ll use to tailor your treatment.”
“I was to understand that this was more of a support group, and Dr. Hammer would be less involved than all this.”
“I don’t know how you ended up with that card, and it’s none of my business, but they may have been misinformed, or withheld information on purpose. I couldn’t tell ya. This is all about consent, which you may revoke at any time. You can turn around and leave right now, and even keep the card, though some features may not work.”
“No, it’s fine. I want to talk to people who aren’t my friends. They’re supportive, but...”
“They’re too close?” Siria guessed.
“Yeah.” Mateo removed the armor and response modules of his IMS.
“You don’t need to strip down completely,” she informed him. Once he was on his back, she went back over to the computer to begin the procedure. She slammed on the keys with purpose, stopping to click through menus as needed. Shortly after announcing that she was starting, the dull hum of the machine stopped. “Something’s wrong.” She removed the card from its dock, spun around in her chair, and stuck it in some other device. “Card seems fine to me, unless I’m reading this wrong, so it must be you.”
“What’s the error?” he asked.
“It can’t get a clear reading.” She turned to look down at him. “Do you have multiple consciousnesses in your brain, or has it been recently blended?”
“Oh. No, but I am spatio-temporally tethered to six other people. And I have a neuro-emotional bond with five of them.”
“That must be it. One or the other would probably be fine, but if you’re permanently linked to them, then the machine can’t calibrate to your emotions, and yours alone.”
“So I’m SOL?”
“I wouldn’t say that, but I’m neither authorized nor trained to proceed. It would be up to Dr. Hammer to decide what she’s willing to do, because my guess is, if we move forward, all six of the bonded people will be able to use this card. You may be okay with that, but she may not. I really couldn’t say for sure.”
“Can I bring my team here, so she can speak with all of us at once?” he offered.
She chuckled a little. “The card is designed to transport only one person at a time. It’s not an inherent limitation, but an arbitrary one which Dr. Hammer imposed to prevent someone from abusing its power.”
Mateo chuckled back. “We don’t need the card. They just need to know where I am.” He took a breath, and prepared himself. Then he removed the microinjector from a compartment hidden in the back of the armor module.
“What the hell is that?” Siria questioned.
“A break-glass-in-case-of-emergency serum.” Before she could stop him, he jammed it into his own neck. He was overwhelmed with an intense feeling of fear. It wasn’t that it gave him images of things that he would be afraid of. It was more like he became acutely afraid of the terrible danger that the whole world around him posed. This machine he was in, the office furniture, the window, the walls. Everything felt like such a profound threat to his safety, and he knew for a fact that it would never end. He would feel this sense of loneliness and dread for the rest of his life. Nothing could stop it, no one could help him. He was lost, alone, and would soon die of the panic in his twisted and tattered heart. He began to hyperventilate. Siria tried to help, but there was nothing she could do, except make it worse. She was the scariest threat of all. This was his life now. It was always going to end like this.
She stood back up to run for help when Leona appeared out of nowhere in front of her. “What did you do to him?” she demanded to know.
“Nothing! He did it to himself!” Siria insisted.
“Don’t go anywhere,” Leona warned. She jammed a second microinjector into her husband’s neck.
Mateo immediately felt a sudden sense of relief. This room was the best, safest place in all of histories. The furniture was soft and comfortable. The walls were welcoming and warm. The window was showing them the coolest island that ever rose out of the sea. The machine was exactly what he needed today. Never again would he feel the cold emptiness of a life alone. Everything in the whole world was perfect, and he felt so much love in his bright, shining heart. His happiness could know no end, and he would never die.
“Don’t blame her, it’s not her fault,” Mateo assured Leona. “I’m fine, I just needed you here, and this was the fastest way to do it.”
“Matt, the fear serum was only to be used in emergencies.”
“This was an emergency,” he decided. “We were worried about the range of our tether. Now we know that we can find each other across a hundred and twenty light years, and well over two thousand regular years.”
Leona gave it some thought. “I guess that’s true. So, you’re okay? You’re really okay? You can be honest.”
“Really, I’m fine,” Mateo reiterated. “Call off the dogs of war.”
“Okay.” Leona took a look around. “Where’s Dr. Hammer?”
“She’s in a session,” Siria replied. “They’ll be done in about ninety minutes.”
“We can wait,” Mateo determined. “Ramses needs time to look through the data from this last jump, I’m sure.”