Microstory 2583: Renata Unlocks the Safe Deposit Box, and Takes a Step Back, as Per Protocol

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Renata unlocks the safe deposit box, and takes a step back, as per protocol. She’s not even allowed to pull the box out, and set it on the table, which was apparently her first clue that this wasn’t a normal bank. Director McWilliams, despite being the one responsible for the box, doesn’t move either, probably because he’s the Director of the NSD, and he doesn’t pick things up. Quidel reaches over and takes it instead, setting it down on the table.

McWilliams looks around the room, likely to make sure that no one else can see or hear them. “I’m letting you three see this,” he begins, indicating Renata, Quidel, and Lycander, “because you have become intimately involved in this case. And Madam Granger is just here too. We are not out of the woods yet. Everyone wants to get their hands on this, and I’m going to need everyone’s cooperation and participation to make sure it stays safe. It’s obviously no longer safe here, so we need to find an alternative. Does everyone understand what I’m asking of you?” He checks for responses, and receives non-verbal ones.

“It’s a weapon?” Quidel probes.

“It’s not technically a weapon, but it can be weaponized.” McWilliams places his fingers on the latch. “This isn’t the only part of it, it’s just the part that counts. The delivery system could probably be jury-rigged. The core—the code—that’s unique, and it would be hard to crack the encryption or reverse engineer it, but not impossible.” He looks at them again to gauge their reactions.

“Get on with it, Aldwin,” Libera urges.

Unsure of all this, he sighs, but lifts the lid anyway. Inside is a radially symmetrical electronic device, mostly sleek metal black with blue glowing piping. It’s standing on short black legs that go all around the circumference on the bottom. The casing is matte, and it’s about the size of a football...or half a football, rather. It was humming when McWilliams opened the box, and it still is, but less so now, suggesting that it responds to movement or interference. “It’s inactive at the moment, but it’s always on. It’s powered by a Radioisotope Thermoelectric Generator, also known as an RTG.”

“That’s ridiculous,” Quidel says. “It would constantly be radiating heat. You would have to ventilate it.”

“It is ventilated,” McWilliams claims as he’s pointing back to the safe in the wall.

Quidel leans down, and looks into it. “Hm. That does look like ventilation.”

“But what does it do?” Renata presses. This thing looks dangerous, and she’s been working right next to it for almost an entire year now. He says it’s not a weapon, but it certainly looks like it could be a bomb. He even called it a core. But he also said code. What the hell is it?

“It’s a technological infiltrator. It can break into any system, and plant its own code. You’re thinking, sure, a skeleton key. Not a big deal. The difference between this and similar devices is that this can spread across an entire city, and its surrounding areas, especially if you get it up high enough, and again, as long as you connect it to the right amplifier. That would be the easy part, though.”

“What would you want with this sort of thing? It sounds like it could only be disruptive and destructive,” Quidel points out.

McWilliams nods in understanding. “The labcoats came up with it as an extension of a system that the government was developing for a nationwide communication system, or even a global one. Imagine a seismic event is predicted within minutes of its onset. That’s nice to know, but only the people with access to the equipment are the ones who know it. We wanted to be able to warn everyone in the area. Of that, or a hurricane, or a military attack. The possibilities are endless. We have ways of calling every phone number under our purview, but you have to bother yourself by picking up your phone. And honestly, dealing with the competing carriers is a nightmare. This would allow us to reach every TV on sale in the window, every digital billboard, every radio transceiver. We could even send a message through someone’s electronic blood pressure cuff. It would connect to all these things and more, all at once, nearly instantaneously.”

“But it could do damage,” Lycander points out.

“That’s why I said it could be weaponized.” He gauges the room again. “I don’t owe any of you an explanation, but if you would like one, understand that we produced this with good intentions. We had no plans to deploy it against an enemy nation.”

“Maybe you didn’t,” Renata says, “but you’re not the only one in control of it.”

“That’s why it’s in the safe,” McWilliams explains. “We need the executive branch to turn leadership over to the next administration, who won’t see this as a weapon of war, or espionage. This place is supposed to be untouchable. If you open one of these boxes, you better have a good reason, because it could cost you your career.”

“Is this a good enough reason?” Lycander asks.

“It obviously needs to be moved, and I don’t trust anyone but you three to move it,” McWilliams insists.

“Why us? We’re just a couple of randos, and my boss,” Quidel says.

“That’s exactly why it has to be you, because your loyalties aren’t in question. You don’t know enough. You’ve not been in the game long enough to have established ties with bad actors. Your anonymity is to our advantage.”

“Where can we take it?” Lycander asks him.

“I have an idea or two,” Libera volunteers.

“No,” McWilliams replies firmly.

Castlebourne Capital Community: Council Criminal Conspiracy (Part II)

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If this wasn’t the most difficult game in 2.5Dome, Dreychan absolutely did not want to see whatever was. What Lubiti and Maaseiah didn’t—couldn’t—understand was that this wasn’t anywhere near the first game he had ever played. His homeworld of Ex-777 didn’t have work. People played around all day. It was basically Castlebourne, but without the domes. They were lazy and hedonistic, and while he preferred a more quiet life, it wasn’t like he spent every waking moment curled up with a book. He had never played a game quite like this, but he did have some experience. Even his muscle memory had some idea what to do, because virtual reality was ubiquitous on 777. So he survived. He ran through the level, avoiding every obstacle, jumping over every gap. It wasn’t easy, and he was exhausted throughout the whole thing, but he did make it. And once he finished that first level, he went on to the next. And the next, and the next. He kept trying to escape, either by taking small moments to try to repair his emergency bracelet, or by just looking for a weak point in the walls. He also screamed for help, but no one responded.

He never found respite, except for a few minutes between the levels. If he managed to get significantly ahead of the moving wall, it wouldn’t have to catch up to him. A new wall would simply slide in place, and start coming for him instead. Sometimes, he had to figure out how to open a door, but it was never too complex, and he was a pretty smart guy. They had underestimated him, and that was their first mistake. He was at the final level now, and about to finish the whole thing. The one thing left to do was to defeat the final boss. How hard could it be?

Oh my God, so hard. It was this giant sort of skeleton creature that could spin its whole torso around on an axis, which it used to try to slap Dreychan away. There had been a sword in the eighth level, which he failed to retrieve. He knew that would come back to bite him in the ass, but there was no fixing it. A normal player could have let themselves die to try again, but he didn’t have that luxury. Any death would mean the true death, so he kept having to cut his losses, and press forward. That one mistake could not be what ended him here. He could do this. He had no choice. It wasn’t only because he obviously wanted to live in general, but seeing the looks of horror on Lubiti and Maaseiah’s faces when he confronted them—he couldn’t lose that opportunity.

He was on the ground, though, on his back. The skeleton creature towered over him. It usually moved fast and violently, but it was slow now, confident that it had Dreychan beat. It didn’t have that much in the way of a recognizable face, but it might have even looked like it was smiling? It reached back with its giant lanky arm, and prepared to smash Dreychan into the floor when something stopped him. It was the hammer from level seven. Dreychan had noticed it on the wall, but it had been receded into a pit, and looked more like decoration. After he spotted the sword, he figured that the hammer was just a distraction. Maybe not, though. Dreychan looked up to see Teemo wielding it. Teemo?

Teemo screamed through gritted teeth as he reangled his weapon so he could press against the bottom of the handle, and push the skeleton’s fist back. The skeleton was confused, and surprised at finally encountering an enemy who might actually defeat him. Teemo made one more push to knock the skeleton off balance for a second, which was enough for him to regrip the hammer, and smash the skeleton’s toes. The skeleton began to hop on one foot as it massaged its metatarsals and phalanges. Teemo didn’t stop there. He hopped over to the other foot, and swung to the side to smash into its ankle. That was enough to tip the monster over to his back. Teemo took a breath, and looked over at Dreychan, who was only now getting back up to his feet. Teemo expertly threw the hammer upwards, letting it slide between his fingers and thumb, catching it once his hand had reached the metal. He pointed the bottom of the handle towards Dreychan. “Care to do the honors?”

Dreychan stepped forward. “How are you here? Why?”

“Do you want to ask questions, or do ya maybe wanna kill the monster first?”

Good point. Dreychan accepted the weapon, found his own grip on it, and smashed the giant skull into a dozen pieces. After all this time, the doors finally opened.

A few days later, Dreychan was all rested up, and ready for the next Council meeting. According to Teemo, the plot to have Dreychan killed wasn’t limited to Lubiti and Maaseiah. More people were involved, but unfortunately, he didn’t know who, or how many. The only reason Teemo knew about it was because Maaseiah underestimated him too. Teemo didn’t explain why he helped Dreychan, but that obviously wasn’t the concern right now. They needed to identify the other conspirators. They had one chance to curate that list, or maybe not even that. If Dreychan had actually died in the game as he was supposed to, they probably would have heard about it, so their surprise might have faded by now. Or, they deliberately shielded themselves from the potential of hearing such news in order to extend their plausible deniability for as long as possible. He was about to find out. Teemo was already in there, recording the Council in secret. Dreychan was waiting in the ancillary hallway so no one would spot him.

They had been waiting for one straggler, but she was here now. Dreychan took a deep breath, walked back over to the main hallway, and stepped into the Council chambers. A hush fell over the room, which was weird, but he just kept walking, not looking. Teemo was recording, he had to trust that. He really wanted to see how Lubiti and Maaseiah were reacting, but he would be able to watch the footage later. Teemo would run it through a special program that was specifically designed to detect surprise, even if someone was trying to hide it. Dreychan casually strode over to his seat, and sat down as he always did. He looked up at Council Chair Rezurah because she was about to call them to order.

“Uh, uh...um.” She was so flustered. Why was she flustered? Was she looking at him? Holy crap, she was looking at him. She was part of this too? She shook her head quickly, trying to loosen up and get back on track. “Thank you all for coming. Um, I—I was able meet—to meet with Mr. Hrockas, I mean Stewart—Steward! Mr. Hrockas Steward. Hrockas. And we came up with the specifics of a plan. We’re gonna move our star 83 light years away, a little bit closer to Earth. We will end up 83 light years from Earth. Now, I know that might be confusing for some, but you have to remember that space is three-dimensional—”

“Sometimes it’s two-point-five!” Teemo interrupted. He stood up, and started walking towards the dais, holding his tablet down by his hip.

“Mister Teemo, you will wait your turn!” Rezurah demanded.

“I’m afraid I don’t have to wait for shit!” Teemo fired back. “You are all under arrest!” He looked over at Dreychan. “Except you, Drey.”

“But all of them?” Dreychan questioned. “Every single one of them?”

“Every goddamn one,” Teemo confirmed as he looked back up at Rezurah.

“You do not have the authority to arrest anyone, and you don’t have any proof whatsoever,” Rezurah argued. “You’re just a scribe.” She looked down at Maaseiah. “I thought you said he was one of us.”

“He was,” Maaseiah replied before standing up himself, and looking Teemo in the eye. “You helped us scrub the security footage.”

“No, I didn’t,” Teemo explained. “Because I am not Teemo.” He lifted his tablet, and started tapping on it. His face began to flicker before disappearing entirely, revealing his true face underneath. “My name is Dominus Azad Petit of the Castlebourne Charter Contingency. Teemo has already been placed in holding, you will all be joining him shortly.” Azad made another tap on his device. A bunch of masked soldiers suddenly appeared. They began to secure the perimeter, and place cuffs on people. “No, not him,” Azad ordered the one who cuffs Dreychan. “He’s not guilty.”

“We’re not either!” Rezurah shouted. “We had an obligation to protect our people, and the planet! We did it for you!”

Castlebourne Owner, Hrockas Steward appeared next to Azad. The man escorting Rezurah met him halfway in the middle of the floor. “I brought you here. I gave you a home when you had none. You didn’t even know what a home was. I gave you everything you needed to live happily and safely.”

“And we’re grateful for that,” Rezurah insisted. “Nothing has to change.” She scowled at Dreychan. “Except him. He’s a danger to us all. You have this whole thing backwards.”

Hrockas shook his head. “My team investigated Mr. Glarieda for months, and found no evidence of him leaking information. You, on the other hand; we have evidence of your crimes.” He jerked his head at her escort, who began to shuffle her away.

“You impersonated a Council leader, and infiltrated our private meetings! You have no right to do this! The people will rise up! There are more of us than you!” She trailed off as she was being pulled out of the room. The rest of the detainees were taken out behind her.

“Sir,” Azad began, “why didn’t you just teleport them all into holding?”

“I want people to see,” Hrockas answered coldly as he watched the last of them go. “I want them to see what happened here today.” He spun around. “Mr. Glarieda, on behalf of Castlebourne, and its executive leadership, I would like to extend my deepest apologies to what you have endured. Your experience has illuminated a number of security flaws in our system, particularly in 2.5Dome. You never should have been able to step through that first door with a broken emergency beacon. I want to assure you that the entire dome has been shut down, and will not be reopening until we have secured a more robust set of guardrails. Furthermore, I have called in a third party to audit our system overall to identify any flaws or room for improvement. As everything on this planet is free, I can offer you no compensation for your suffering, but...” He looked around at the now empty chambers. “The Council is yours for now. I try to stay out of politics. I only stepped in because it was a conspiracy to commit murder. That’s rare these days, and I cannot allow a permanent death to overshadow what we’re trying to build here. Not to sound callous.”

“I understand,” Dreychan responded sincerely. “I’m grateful for the assist. Particularly to you, Dominus Petit.”

“It’s my job,” Azad said. “You almost had that skeleton. I would have been there sooner, though, but we could not get the emergency exits open. I know that sounds bad, but it’s what we’re gonna use to nail these guys. They hacked our system, which means they left a trail for us to follow.”

“Yeah,” Dreychan agreed with the silver lining.

“Well, we’ll leave you to it,” Hrockas said. “I have to get back to work.”

“Wait,” Dreychan said before they could disappear on him. “I don’t know what I’m doing. You can’t have a council with one person. We need to fix this, and I’m not qualified to do that alone. I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I will need to maintain a line of communication with my...murder conspirators. They may have tried to kill me, but I recognize that they were doing it to protect Ex-Exins. They will help me.”

Hrockas nodded. “Azad can make arrangements for visitation. They will be monitored, however, so the expectation of privacy that this council enjoyed before has been undone. You’ll get it back once you backfill the positions, and I’m satisfied that there will be no repeat of this incident.”

“I appreciate that, sir,” Dreychan said.

Hrockas disappeared.

“What the hell just happened?” Dreychan asked rhetorically. This was crazy. He couldn’t run the Council, even to find all of its replacements. Even with help, he was not the man for the job. He didn’t even ask to be on it in the first place. He simply didn’t have any choice. When they first arrived, and started establishing their rules, Hrockas insisted that every old world had representation. It made sense at the time, and Dreychan agreed because the Council was so big, he could disappear into it. Now it all fell on him, and he wasn’t prepared for it. Goddammit, why wasn’t there just one other person who didn’t try to kill him the other day?

Azad started to breathe deliberately. “Just breathe, Drey. Like this. In. Out. Slowly. You can do this. You’re not alone, even if it might feel like that. You can reach out to the Expatriate Protection Bureau. As far as we know, they weren’t involved in this. The EPB was the internal police force that the former refugees created. It too was separate from Hrockas and the other planetary executives, but also operated independently of the Council. They were there to check and balance each other. Yeah, they could help. Perhaps they would be able to simply take over.

Dreychan breathed. “Thanks. I’ll be okay. Things are getting easier. The Vellani Ambassador returns every day with fewer and fewer refugees. There are fewer decisions to make than ever.”

“That’s a very positive way to look at things,” Azad said. “He tapped on his tablet a few times, and then tapped the corner of it against Dreychan’s watch. Contact me whenever you need. A Dominus commands hundreds of thousands of troops, but we are presently technically in peacetime, since the Exin Empire threat is only that; a threat. And it will be my job to lead them, not train them now. So I have a lot of time on my hands.”

Dreychan glanced at his watch to make sure his contact card came through. “This has your quantum signature. You planning on leaving this region of space?”

Azad smiled. “Light lag is still a problem even if you’re not light years away. I’m helping develop a new adventure that’s not actually under one of the domes. It’s on the edge of the solar system.”

“Oh, interesting. Well, I’ll let you get to it. I appreciate your support.”

“Any time. It was nice meeting you.” Azad disappeared.

Dreychan was all alone, in the literal sense anyway. He was in charge here now...of the chairs, and the tables. They better get in line, or suffer the consequences. That was his first order of business. He walked around the tables, and straightened the chairs out so they would look nice. Some of them had been knocked over in the kerfuffle. As trivial as it was, it made him feel a tiny bit useful. It was unreasonable to begin any real work today. The only item on the agenda was to approve the plan for the stellar engine, and there was no longer anyone here with the right to make that call. There was certainly no need for a vote. Once people were found to backfill all of these many positions, at least the room would be clean and tidy. Hell, the other original council members might even ultimately be totally acquitted, and return. He didn’t know. So to prevent any kind of future conflict, he just took the day off, and went back home. He would come to regret it.

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The Advancement of Mateo Matic: June 23, 2475

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They programmed the Vellani Ambassador to travel at slightly lower than maximum reframe speed. There was no specific reason for this. They just felt like letting the ship arrive at Castlebourne at the same time they did. It took exactly 365 days to cover the distance of about 108 light years. The Ambassador fell back into subfractional speeds only moments after they all returned to the timestream. Elder had been kept in stasis the whole time, and they wouldn’t wake him back up until they scoped out the area. He was not in good shape mentally, and they were neither equipped nor prepared to help him deal with whatever demons he was fighting.

“Wh—what am I looking at here?” Mateo asked.

“Another unusual and unexpected thing,” Angela noted.

A few centuries ago, people were getting bored with regular old golf. Again. Of course, pioneers had already developed other forms of golf that went beyond the traditional, like speed golf, and arguably, frolf. Tricky Golf was a new iteration, but the only difference was the design of the ball. The course was the same, the rules were the same, but the strokes were a lot harder to keep low. Instead of dimples, the ball had bumps. Poor aerodynamics dampened the lift, and shortened the range, and accuracy was much more difficult to pull off. This resulted in a great deal of frustration, and even anger. But players knew exactly what they were getting into. There was a reason why normal golf balls were made with dimples in the first place. It was never random. The bumps were just as intentional, but this time, to make it a greater challenge.

Tricky Golf was more fun to watch for some, especially when players started tossing their clubs around, and cursing the wind gods. It never really took off—pun intended—for obvious reasons, but there’s a market for pretty much everything, so it never died out either. Some serious professional players even used it as a tool during their training. If they could sink a Tricky Golf ball, they could handle a regular one with ease. That was the idea, anyway. And it would seem that someone who had access to this world took inspiration from Tricky Golf. Maybe it was only a coincidence, but as an ironic occasional viewer of the alternative sport, Mateo chose to believe in a connection. The entire surface of the planet was covered in geodesic domes. Though, to be fair, they weren’t all the same size.

“Ram, open a channel; all frequencies.”

Ramses tapped a few buttons, then pointed to her.

“Vendelin Blackbourne, are you there?” She waited, but received no response. “Kestral McBride? Ishida Caldwell? Anyone on the Stateless Mothership Jameela Jamil, or one of its capital ships, please respond.” Still nothing. “Is anyone receiving this signal?” Not a peep.

“I’m picking up an ACS band,” Ramses declared. “Would you like me to play it?”

“What’s that?” Olimpia asked.

“Automated Control Signal,” Leona explained. “It’s essentially what independent robots and AIs use to coordinate their efforts. Go ahead, let’s here it.”

 Ramses shifted the signal to the speakers. It just sounded like white noise and beeps to them. R2D2 would probably know what they were saying.

“Can you translate?” Marie asked, smiling a bit, hoping that it didn’t sound like a dumbass question.

“Sort of,” Ramses replied. “Largely...build. They’re saying build to each other, over and over again. There are a bunch of other embedded messages layered on top of each other. It would take our computer some time to convert the specifics, but...”

“Don’t bother,” Leona ordered. “Just send one back. Translate...don’t build. Override anything that interferes with this new directive.”

It took him hours to complete what sounded like a simple task to the less knowledgeable in the group. There were a ton of security protocols preventing exactly what they were trying to do; hacking into the system to change its behavior. He only managed to do it by locating the emergency shutdown procedures, which were there to prevent something catastrophic from happening. According to the data that Leona was pulling at the same time, that was exactly what had happened, though the consequences were probably relatively minimal, at least for now.

There was an old thought experiment called the Paperclip Maximizer Theory. The question was, what if you commanded an automated machine to make paperclips, and programmed no other objectives or subroutines into it? What could stop it from fulfilling its mandate ad infinitum? What would happen once it ran out of the usual materials? Would it eventually decide that humans would make good paperclips? From what Leona could tell, that was basically the trigger. Before he left, Vendelin must have commanded his automators to make more dome habitats. In his unexpected absence, they found no reason to stop. He probably forgot about it, and had never come back since leaving, dying, and ultimately ending up working with Team Keshida.

While they were gathering all of this information from the construction logs, the Ambassador was in orbit. The sensors detected 83,839 domes in total, though one of them wasn’t finished when they stopped the robots, so Mateo decided to call it an even 83,838.3. Actually, several of them weren’t completely finished, but the last one wasn’t even airtight yet. Once they were confident that there was no danger on the planet, the whole group teleported down to just outside the main dome. This was the one that was already present when they first came to this world over a century ago. Other automators had built up this dome beyond the castle that was there before. There were now four stone walls to protect it against the approximate zero threats here. There were towers, a keep, and a trench for a moat, though it was not filled with water. Vendelin was clearly into medieval times, because this was what he chose for his own dwelling, but other domes had their own themes.

The dome on one side of the first one was modeled on feudal Japan, while the one on the other side appeared to have been inspired by The Wizard of Oz, or maybe Wicked, complete with a green palace, and a yellow brick road. Another one nearby appeared to be a giant golf course. They teleported into Castledome to see if they could find out more information from the local computers. While the smarties were deep in the complicated data, the other four each grabbed a tablet out of the dispenser, and started looking through what was evidently a visitor’s brochure, which stored a directory of all the domes. Roughly 3,000 of them were indeed designed as their own special getaways, leaving the other 80,000 so far undesignated. Some of them were based on historical periods, while others were inspired by fictional media. A few of the concepts were too large in scope, so they combined multiple domes. There was a Westworld analog, which Mateo went straight to in the directory just out of curiosity. It boasted a full complement of robots, just as the source material did, though it was unclear whether they had actually been built, or if the full amusement park was planned for the future.

It was Marie who realized that a lot of the domes weren’t in the directory, because they were planned for traditional residential units. These were typically less exciting, though they were still meant to house like-minded individuals. Many hundreds of billions of people could pretty much move here starting today. Even though this rock was uninhabitable on its own, Vendelin had big plans for it. Maybe he really had been trying to destroy other planets, to get rid of the competition.

“Found it!” Leona suddenly shouted.

“You found the master code?” Ramses questioned.

“What? No, that’s...encrypted,” Leona replied. “What I found was Vendelin’s personal quantum identifier. This can reach him wherever he is, as long as she’s sufficiently near a quantum computer, even if it’s not his.”

“How does a PQI know where he is if it isn’t his device?” Angela questioned.

“If he’s logged into one of his accounts on any device, or if he has an implant, it will send a near-field signal to any and all quantum computers to identify him.” Ramses sighed, and redirected his attention to Leona. “I thought you were looking for the master code. I want control over all these things.”

“Vendelin can give us that,” Leona explained. “He already has it; we wouldn’t have to hack anything.”

“Wait.” Ramses looked away from everyone. “So do I.” He unceremoniously disappeared.

No one bothered to ask him where he had gone. They just went back to their devices. Mateo was particularly drawn to a dome that purported to simulate a zombie-infested city. He always wanted to test his mettle in such an environment. But what kind of safeguards were in place for something like that? None?

Ramses returned with some kind of portable storage device. Mateo recognized it, but couldn’t quite recall what it was used for. He knew that it wasn’t just for transferring any ol’ files, though.

“No,” Leona decided. “Is that him? No,” she repeated.

“In all likelihood, the Jameela Jamil is still in the Dardius galaxy,” Ramses began to reason. “He’s not gonna get your message. He hasn’t even responded to the one we tried to send him before. This is our only hope...unless we just wanna bug out, and forget the whole thing.”

“No!” Olimpia cried. She wanted to try the citywide escape room dome, if it was even available already.

“What is that?” Angela asked, nodding towards the device.

“Who is that?” Marie corrected. “I’m guessing it’s Vendelin. Why do you have it?”

“We rescued him from the afterlife simulation,” Leona answered instead of Ramses. “We then downloaded his consciousness into a new substrate. We shouldn’t still have this q-state, though. It’s unethical to keep extra copies of intelligent beings without their permission.”

“I didn’t keep it intentionally,” Ramses defended. “I was busy, I forgot.”

“That’s no reason to use it now,” Leona argued. “It would still be unethical. He has not authorized a duplicated emergence.”

“Isn’t he good now?” Olimpia asked them. “I’m sure he would understand.”

“Part of what caused his improvement was his exposure to Team Keshida,” Mateo said. He faced Ramses again. “The version that you have stored in there hasn’t experienced any of that. I agree with Leona. I say we find another way.”

“You could always ask me for the code.” It was Hrockas, standing in the doorway. While Vendelin Blackbourbne had laid claim to what would come to be known as Castlebourne in what he believed to be a game called Quantum Colony, Hrockas managed to unlock access to Pluoraia, which was one of the rare populated worlds. He was devastated to learn that he was not just playing a game, but messing with real people’s lives. He was part of the team’s effort to locate Vendelin, and bring him to justice. What the team didn’t know at the time was that this justice was in the form of an execution.

“How are you here?” Leona asked him. “I thought they shut everyone out.”

“Teagarden opened the quantum terminals back up in a limited capacity,” Hrockas answered. “They gave me permission to come here. They did that with a few of their top players.” He used airquotes. “As long as we don’t travel to any of the populated worlds, they’ve allowed us to continue our construction efforts.”

“So, it was you?” Ramses pressed. “You built all these domes?”

“No, I couldn’t control the automators in the beginning, so I leaned into it. I only designed most of the themes. I hoped to open it up to visitors by the end of the century.”

“We scanned for both human and mech lifesigns,” Leona divulged with suspicion. “You didn’t show up.”

Hrockas laughed. “This is a castle?” he said in the form of a rhetorical question, like she was an idiot. “They’re for defense? It’s shielded,” he finally clarified after she failed to see where he was going.

“Anyone else here we should know about?” Marie asked.

“No, just me. Like I said, I was planning for a Grand Opening in 2500.”

“Are you telling me that Zombie City is ready to go, or at least nearing completion?” Mateo asked, hope in his eyes.

Hrockas debated the answer in his head. “It would take me a few hours to initialize the sim, but yes. I mean...kind of. I’ve programmed all the enemy NPCs in those worlds, but then I realized that something like that would need other survivors, unless enough real people sign up at the same time. Trust me, I’ve tested it out on a smaller scale, and it’s boring unless you can run into other people trying to win.”

“Why do all this?” Leona asked. “A virtual simulation can accomplish all the same things in a fraction of the time.”

“There’s something very exciting about getting your own physical heart pumping,” Hrockas replied. “They’ve done studies. People tend to prefer real world simulations over virtual constructs if they can help it. VR is best left for worlds that break physical laws. They don’t need to co-opt everything.”

“Well...” Leona began, hesitating. “I need this planet.”

“For what?” Hrockas asked.

“Yeah, for what?” No one else knew what she was thinking.

She wasn’t sure how she would be received. “There are some people living under an oppressive regime about 16,000 light years from here. I would like to set this up as a sanctuary world; the final destination of an underground railroad.”

Hrockas chuckled. “Did you see how many domes there are? I don’t know how many people you’re worried about, but I’m guessing there’s plenty of room. The way I see it, anyone who ends up here is a potential customer, so go ahead, and bring ‘em on down. Whenever you’re ready.”

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The Advancement of Mateo Matic: May 9, 2430

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Ex-908 was unlike the other two planets in the Goldilocks Corridor that the team had been to. The first one was at medieval-level technology. The second one was more like the 2030s. This world was far more advanced, with an early-warning outer system defense grid, and multiple space stations in orbit. Fortunately, the AI on this little ship was intelligent enough to avoid being detected. It stayed out of range by hiding on a planetesimal in the inner edge of the transtellar debris cloud, which was smaller than the Oort Cloud that was around Earth.

“What are we going to do here?” Angela asked. “We’re trying to find the bad guy, but what exactly are we expecting to accomplish on this world? Or the next one? Do we have any protocols, procedures, or plans?”

“Good question,” Mateo said. It took him a few seconds to realize that everyone was waiting for him to answer it. “Why are y’all lookin’ at me? I’m not the captain.”

“This was your idea, though,” Marie pointed out.

“Wull...” He fumbled for words. “Why are you listening to me? I don’t know what the hell I’m talkin’ about!”

“It’s okay, honey.”

“Look at them, salivating like honey badgers, acting like I have all the answers. This is just what we do, try to stop all the bad shit happening when we find ourselves in a position to make a difference.”

“Okay, okay, it’s fine. Relax,” Leona encouraged. She looked into his eyes, and started to breathe methodically until he matched her. Then she gestured for him to continue while she talked. “This is the most advanced civilization we’ve run into. There seems to be some air of mystery surrounding the emperor of this empire, of whatever it is they call him, but maybe they know something. Let’s go and ask.”

“The last one could stop us from teleporting,” Olimpia reminded her as she was rubbing Mateo’s arm up and down, since he was the one who suffered from that technology the most. “We were smart to leave one of us in the ship, but that could have easily not been enough. We may not be so lucky this time.”

“Ah.” Ramses disappeared into his lab, and returned a few seconds later. He was holding a damaged gizmo with wires loosely hanging out of it. “The spatial tether. Yes, I almost forgot. In the future, I might be able to help us avoid it altogether, but until then, I’ve designed some clippers, which will break us out of it.” He held up the remote that he had been carrying around lately to do other things, like disrupt Bronach Oaksent’s interstellar holographic projection. The only thing is, there’s only one. If any of us gets caught, you’re gonna need me.”

Leona takes it out of his hand, and turns it around in her own. “How long will it take you to build another one?”

“A second remote that does everything? All day,” Ramses answers. “A cheap knock-off that only clips spatial tethers? A couple hours, maybe.”

“Stay here and do that,” Leona orders. “I’ll take this one in case we need it. Hopefully, if they have such technology, it operates on the same principles. If not, you’ll be up here to save us.”

“I’ll stay with him,” Olimpia volunteered. “I don’t think anyone should be alone. I can be your little assistant,” she said to him.

“I would love that.”

“Okay, we’ll split into three teams. The second group needs to go find this planet’s version of The Caretaker. Vitalie, I don’t know if you wanna do that, or if you very much don’t want to...”

“If not me,” Vitalie!324 began, “at least someone she recognizes. So either you or Matt. The other iterants never met Angela-slash-Marie.”

“I’ll do it,” Mateo said. “Whatever questions need to be asked to find Oaksent’s ruling world, I’m not the one to ask them. It may end up in a fight, who knows?”

“Okay,” Leona agreed. “I’ll go start askin’ questions, and knockin’ heads. Mateo will find Vitalie!908. Ramses and Olimpia are staying with the ship. By the way, keep moving. Break orbit, if you have to, which I think you probably will. Go into darklurking mode. We’ll still be able to communicate through our comms. I don’t think more than two need to stay here, though. Nor do I think finding the other Caretaker is more than a two-person job. So who wants to join my husband while the other two come back me up?”

Both Angela and Marie raised their hands.

“I don’t know what that means,” Leona said to them.

“We both want to help Mateo,” Marie clarified. She looked over at her sister. Then they dropped their hands down simultaneously for a round of Rock, Paper, Scissors. Marie won after the third game.

“All right, is everyone ready?” Leona posed.

They nodded.

“Rambo, navigate us to the planet. I want you to look for three things. Number one, the biggest, baddest seat of government you can detect. Number two, the remotest region on the surface. Number two, the most complex cave system that’s still remote. If something goes wrong, jump to, and hide in, the caves. We can find each other while avoiding pursuit. Once we know where to go, we’ll split. Group Confrontation will go to the city. Group Stasis will find the other iterant. She seems to usually be away from civilization. Obviously, Group Breakthrough will stay with the ship, which I’m realizing now still needs a name.”

“No, it doesn’t,” Mateo claimed.

She was thrown off a little by this, but didn’t push it. “Okay. Let’s do it to it!”

The quickly-conceived plan went as well as they thought it would. Speed was key, which Leona knew. Orbital defenses sprang into action, but they weren’t fast enough for them. The three groups jumped to their respective missions, and no one was caught. Not yet, anyway.

As it turned out, they might not have to worry about spatial tethers preventing them from teleporting. When they appeared in the lobby of what appeared to be some kind of capitol building, no one batted an eye. They walked up to the reception desk. “Hello. My name is Captain Leona Matic of the...” She faltered. “Well, I gave my ship away, but that doesn’t matter. We need to talk to whoever is in charge here.”

“In charge of what?” the receptionist asked. She looked pretty young to hold the job, and didn’t seem to care about it. She may as well have been chewing gum.

“The planet.”

She yawned. “I heard he’s dead.”

“Not Bronach Oaksent. I mean, in charge of this world specifically, or maybe even just this city?” Unlike the first two planets, this world had several distinct cities, and any number of smaller towns in between. This one was the largest.

“Oh, the Prime Minister. He’s on the top floor, but—”

They didn’t bother listening to her full explanation. They just jumped right up there and started to look around. There were people hurrying about, but it didn’t feel like a crisis. This just looked like a Tuesday. One of them made the mistake of walking a little bit slower than most. Angela gently stopped him by the arm. “Pardon me. Where can we find the Prime Minister?”

“He’s back there. Can I go now?”

She let him go, and they walked down the hallway until they reached the big double doors. Angela opened one while Vitalie!324 opened the other. Leona barged in through the center. A group of men were in the middle of a conversation around the long table. They stopped and looked over at the disruption. “Good afternoon, folks. My name is Leona Matic. Perhaps you’ve heard of me. It seems that your god-king is a pretty big asshole. I’m aimin’ to take him down. Problem is, ya see, I don’t know where he is. You tell me what you know, I’ll leave you be. You stand in my way, I’ll take you down first.” She teleported randomly around the room, which wasn’t impressing them. “You may know people who can do this. You may be able to do it yourself. But I have other tricks up my sleeve, so don’t test me. Where is the seat of power for this Exin Empire? My guess is you call it Ex-001, but I dunno.”

The man at the head of the table was the only one standing. He tugged down on his sports jacket authoritatively, and began to come around the corner. “Emergency teleportation.” Everyone disappeared, except for him. “You’ll leave them be, because they got nothin’ to do with this. Your fight’s with me.”

“You’re not Bronach Oaksent,” Leona accused.

“No, but I run this rock. We have heard of you. We were just discussing your team. You’re a problem. You’ve been to two planets already, not counting the, uhh...traitors. I think you’ll find that you won’t be able to bully us like you did 275 and 324. They are...irrelevant, especially Ex-324, which is in the state that it’s in because it doesn’t provide Oaksent with what he demands. And you’re wrong, the primary system is not called Ex-001. You could never begin to understand our naming conventions.”

“What’s the main world called?”

The Prime Minister smirked. “I can tell you what it’s called, but that doesn’t mean you’ll find it. No one goes to Ex-69, not even me.”

Leona cleared her throat. “Do you know the significance of the number 69, sir?”

“Oaksent calls it the Divine Figure. That’s all we need to know. That’s more than you deserve to know.”

Angela wrote it out for him on a whiteboard. “It’s two numbers having sex.”

Leona never broke eye contact with the Prime Minister. “Your leader is a fucking child. Tell me where he is, or I’m gonna fuck up your shit.”

“I would rather die.”

“Weird nerd,” she mused. She tilted her head away. “Ramses, are you locked on?”

“We’re in, sir,” he replied through comms. “What do you wanna do?”

“Burn up the biggest one,” she ordered. “I want this world to be defenseless.”

The Prime Minister’s face couldn’t decide if he felt horrified, or confused. “What are you doing? What are you burning?”

The phone on the back counter started to ring.

Leona paced around menacingly. “We were wondering, why would your world need the kind of defenses that it does? It doesn’t make any sense. This is an empire in the middle of nowhere. No one out there knows that you exist. And the other two planets don’t have it. You don’t care about Ex-324 and Ex-275. So are you fighting against outsiders like us...or amongst yourselves? We didn’t speak long, but Oaksent didn’t strike me as the type who would have some sort of inherent opposition to civil war. You’re not his little babies. You’re his playthings. Hell, he probably stirs up conflict on purpose. I suppose I’m more like him than I thought, because I’m doin’ the same thing. If you keep refusing me, there will be nothing left to defend you, except for her.”

Vitalie raised her hand up, and waved with her fingers. “That’s assuming you can convince her to stay here as your Caretaker. The rest of your defenses will have burnt up in the atmosphere.”

“What do you want?” the Prime Minister demanded to know.

“I want to know where your god-king is!”

“I told you, no one knows that!”

“Ramses, on my mark, drop another one, but don’t worry about avoiding populated areas this time.”

“Wait!” He struggled to catch his breath. “You would do that? You would kill innocent people? That’s not the Team Matic I grew up hearing stories about.”

“You must have heard sanitized versions of those stories. The way I see it, you’re fighting a war on multiple fronts. I consider you to be an enemy combatant, and I’ll do what I need to do to protect the lives of the people that I care about. The Welriosians weren’t hurting anyone, and your boss tried to destroy them all. What happens when the vonearthans make it this far out? How will you react?”

“It’s not my job to react to outsiders. We’re the farest from the stellar neighborhood out here. That’s the whole point.”

“What is Ex-908’s responsibility to the empire?” Leona asked.

The Prime Minister took a breath. “These are testing grounds. Ex-182 regularly attacks us to see how we survive. If you destroy even one more of our satellites, we’ll all die. These aren’t games, the stakes are real.”

“I’ll leave you with what you have left if you tell me what you know, like I’ve asked a thousand times already.”

“I really don’t know where Ex-69 is, but I know someone who might. Ex-42 could have the answers you need. I think it’s about 24 light years away. It’s where we keep all of our data. It’s like one giant space server.”

“Ram, you know where Ex-42 is?”

“There are thirty-one planets between here and there.”

“That’s our next stop.”

The Prime Minister looked over at the phone. “I never answered it. Which satellite did you destroy?”

Leona looked at him incredulously. “I didn’t destroy any of them. Ramses was the one calling you on that phone. He was able to hack the communications network, and not much else quite yet.”

“You were bluffing,” he realized.

“We were that time.” They teleported away.

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Microstory 1972: Team Lead

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Director Washington: *from the car console video screen* Report.

Reese: My team was able to generate a map of every place the owner of the phone that the meteorologist called has been. Two teams are stationed for a stakeout. Tech support is watching a second location, in case he shows up there. I’m situated in between.

Director Washington: You got a name?

Reese: We got a blurry face from a redlight cam. He was caught twice on the same corner using a cell phone at the time of two known incoming calls that our target received. But they’re on the lookout for anything suspicious. Agent Miazga’s on it. He knows how to spot someone who’s guilty of something, whether it’s the same guy from the photo, or not. Facial recognition couldn’t find him, though, so we’re being cautious.

Director Washington: Very well. Report back in off-schedule when you have the suspect in pocket.

Reese: This call already is off-schedule. Is everything okay?

Director Washington: Has SI Eliot made any attempt to contact you?

Reese: He called the headquarters twice. Tennison handled it. I’ve maintained contact with her; everything’s going fine there. The new agents are settling in. They’re eager to meet Leonard, I’ll admit that.

Director Washington: It was more important for him to be down there with you. I made that decision, and I’ll stick by it.

Reese: Well, I wish this process had gone faster. I don’t know if this guy will ever return to where we think he lives, but he was here or something. We’re sure of it, whoever he is.

Director Washington: That’s fine.

Reese: Hey, why were you asking about SI Eliot?

Director Washington: He’s a good investigator. He knows that I sent you on an off-the-books mission, and he’s not happy about it.

Reese: You still don’t trust him?

Director Washington: I’m almost certain that he’s not a traitor, but I would feel a hell of a lot better reading him in if we had more than one enemy in custody. I’m not trying to rush you, but sooner would be better.

Reese: Madam Director, are you asking me to find a loophole in the law?

Director Washington: I’m not asking you to do anything, but if you were to unlawfully enter the premises of a suspect’s presumed residence, all I’m saying is that someone would be there to make sure that you don’t catch heat for it. So if he never shows up, and you need to get back on the trail, then do whatever it takes.

Ophelia: *through the radio* Team Lead, this is Team One. We have eyes on the target. He’s heading upstairs.

Reese: *into the radio* Team One, this is Team Lead. Hold fast. *to the screen* This could be it. I don’t think we’ll need to skirt any laws here. I’ll call you back.

Director Washington: Goodbye, Agent Parsons.

Reese: *into the radio* Team Prime, do you have a visual?

Sasho: *through the radio* Negative, Team Lead. We can’t see the front.

Reese: *thinking first* Okay, Team Alpha, go, go, go. Take him down at his door.

Microstory 1971: Team One

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Leonard: So, I hope this doesn’t sound judgy, because I’m genuinely interested. Who takes care of your kids while you’re out on stakeouts, and other missions? You have four of them, right?

Ophelia: My eldest stepson is 23, so he takes care of the two little ones. His sister’s in college right now. She’s in Baton Rouge, actually, so I’m geographically closer to her than the others in Kansas City. But I won’t be visiting her, of course. None of them has any idea where I am, or what I do now. I still don’t really know.

Leonard: What do they think you do?

Ophelia: They believe I’m a merch rep. I claimed that it was a promotion. I supposedly go all over the country, helping the satellite stores introduce new merchandise.

Leonard: Oh, that sounds nice. Nice and safe.

Ophelia: Yeah, no need to worry them. It was a bad cover, though. The idea was that I needed an excuse to be out of town all the time, which is why I volunteered for this assignment. Well, I didn’t know that I would be camped out in front of a restaurant, waiting for a mysterious possible traitor to come back home. I just asked to go in the field at the first opportunity, ya know, to sell the lie about having to travel for work.

Leonard: It’s not a lie. I have a feeling we’ll be doing more and more of this kind of thing as the department grows.

Ophelia: True, but I’m not so sure how I feel about it anymore. I miss them so much. I don’t mind the job itself, but I underestimated how much I prefer to go back home to them at the end of every day.

Leonard: Reese is a reasonable man. I’m sure if you asked for more domestic responsibilities, he would understand. We’re all trying to find our place here. Sasho thought he was gonna run the jail, because it was the obvious choice, but he’s been working hard with Sachs. He’ll be a spotter in no time.

Ophelia: Yeah. I’m sure you’re right.

Leonard: So, what about the other parents of your kids?

Ophelia: My first husband is dead. He was already a deadbeat, so it wasn’t much of a transition. My second husband and I drifted apart, but he’s still fairly involved. Mostly in a monetary sense, but we all have an okay relationship with him. He tried to go back to his girlfriend, who mothered my stepchildren, but it didn’t work out either. She’s still alive, and still a deadbeat.

Leonard: You care for her kids as if they were your own?

Ophelia: They are my own.

Leonard: *awkwardly* Right. Of course.

Ophelia: It’s all right, I know what you meant. They’re great kids. A lot of children in that position would idolize their birth mother no matter what, but they know who’s been there for them, and they consider me their real mother. They call me mom; just about always have. Wait, is that him?

Leonard: *holds up a photo* This is pretty grainy, but I think so. It looks like our guy.

Ophelia: *into the radio* Team Lead, this is Team One. We have eyes on the target. He’s heading upstairs.

Microstory 1970: Suspect

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Reese: Anything yet?

Micro: No, man, I’m sorry. These Mississippi systems are crazy. How can I put this? It’s not like they have the best security in the world, it’s more like their protocols are all over the place, it’s impossible to find anything. I don’t understand how anyone makes contact with anyone else. There’s so much data to sift through, and you don’t have the AI systems that I would normally use. These damn redzones are killing me. I haven’t been able to get any more hits for the last two days. If you haven’t found him yet, he may have left the state. If he’s done that, we’re gonna need a new lead.

Reese: Well, it’s okay. Just do your best. I know it’s been a few days; we’ll get there.

Micro: *laughing* Don’t trust people so much. It hasn’t been a few days. It’s been several. When someone screws up, you need to let them know, so they do better.

Reese: That’s exactly what I do. But I don’t like wasting time. You know how well you’re doing. Me reiterating it isn’t gonna make it go faster. Just get it done, Duval.

Micro: Yes, sir. That’s more like it.

Anaïs: Don’t worry about that, Micro. I found him. Here’s a map of our suspect’s most frequent locations. This one is a hotel, but he spends the majority of his time right here. There’s an apartment above the restaurant, so I think that’s where he’s staying.

Reese: Where did you get this?

Anaïs: I can’t tell you that.

Reese: No, I’m sorry; that’s not acceptable. You need to explain yourself right now.

Micro: There ya go. Let ‘er have it.

Reese: Duval, stay out of this.

Anaïs: What’s it matter? This is where he is, whoever he is.

Reese: My people have been looking into this week. Half these locations were already on our radar, because Micro found part of the trail. I’ve had our people fishing around, and they always come back with no bites. You keep disappearing without any assignments, and now you suddenly have all the answers. How did you find out about this apartment? It’s in a redzone, which we just found out about. It’s nearly impossible to trace anyone there. That’s probably why he chose this spot.

Anaïs: Look, I know you’re upset—

Reese: I’m not upset, I’m worried. If this intel is good, then it still needs to be verified. Otherwise, it’s not actionable. I need to know where you got this, and how.

Anaïs: You want it verified? Fine, verify it. Micro, plug these missing waypoints, and see if they match up with whatever else you already have.

Reese: No, no, no. You don’t give orders. I give the orders. Barring that, Leonard is in charge. Now, you’re my tactician, which means that you act when we have somewhere to go. You don’t find us the target in the first place unless I tell you to. Even so, if my people are stepping out, and getting their information from bad places, then we’re in trouble. It means I can’t trust you. Can I trust you, Agent Altimari?

Anaïs: Yes.

Reese: Then prove it.

Anaïs: Okay. I’ll tell you about my past. But not in front of her.

Microstory 1960: Checking In

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Reese: Good, you’re both here. Just checking in. We didn’t talk at all yesterday after everyone split up with their respective teams. Did everything go okay?

Myka: Yeah, no problems. Nothing to report.

Leonard: I have something to report.

Reese: What is it?

Leonard: The hacker is from another universe; evidently came here the same way I did, and it wasn’t her first time either. She’s been on this planet longer than any of us. I don’t know if the government knows this, or not. If they don’t, I think we shouldn’t tell them.

Reese: That’s...an interesting development. No, we should definitely not tell them. Out of everyone they hired for this new department, they were most worried about her. I would ask you to keep an eye on her, but I’m not going to talk to her about it for now.

Leonard: Understood.

Myka: You came in here already with a nervous look on your face, Reese. What’s up?

Reese: The OSI Director wants to speak with me. I don’t know what it could be about.

Myka: Well, I’m sure it’s about this, right? You just started a new department. We’ve not really done anything yet, but she probably wants to take your temperature on it. That’s what you’re doing with the two of us right now, yeah?

Reese: I’m hoping to get the three of us on the same page, in case something’s wrong. Leonard, what you told me about our hacker, that’s good. Is there anything else I should know? No matter how insignificant it may sound, we should share it.

Myka: Well, Navin really does take naps. He wasn’t joking about that.

Reese: Yeah, it’s a medical condition. He cleared that before he took the job.

Myka: Then I can’t think of anything else.

Leonard: You should talk to SI Eliot first. Take his temperature, if I’m using that idiom correctly. I’ve never heard it before.

Myka: That was right.

Reese: That’s a good idea. *dials Myka’s phone*

SI Eliot: *through the speakerphone* This is Eliot.

Reese: Hey, Hisham; it’s Reese. You got Myka and Leonard on the line too.

SI Eliot: What’s up?

Reese: We just wanted to touch base with you regarding this conference call that the Director requested for tomorrow. Do you know anything about that, and is there something I should know before that happens?

SI Eliot: Oh, it’s not a conference call. She’ll be coming down.

Reese: Okay, well, see, that worries me. We’re not really ready for prime time. Like, does she know about Misra’s naps? And Woodloch’s computer isn’t working right...

SI Eliot: This isn’t about you, Reese. She wants to see how the building turned out. If anyone gets in trouble, it’ll be the contractors we hired for the remodel.

Reese: Are you sure?

SI Eliot: I’m sure. Hey, I gotta jump on another call, but you’ll be fine. *hangs up*

Reese: Okay, now I’m really worried.

Leonard: Yeah. He’s lying.