Showing posts with label insects. Show all posts
Showing posts with label insects. Show all posts

Monday, August 18, 2025

Microstory 2476: Substrate Development Dome

Generated by Google Gemini Pro text-to-video AI software, powered by Veo 3
It’s the opposite of Bot Farm! While that dome is all about mechs, perhaps with some skinning, this one is all about organic substrates, perhaps with some cybernetic components. This is one of the most important aspects of living on Castlebourne, and really, anywhere in the modern galaxy. Life is dangerous, and we’ve only made it more dangerous, because that’s how we like it. Back in the day, when you died, that was it. As far as we knew, there was nothing after that. Now that we’ve let go of our religious superstitions for the most part, we’re pretty certain that there’s no afterlife. So why let yourself die when there’s a better way? We’ve mastered consciousness transference and uploading, and it has given us so many options. You can backup your mind to a body that looks exactly like your own, but you don’t have to. Or it can look the same, but sport different characteristics. It can be stronger, faster, more resilient. You can fall asleep in seconds whenever you’re ready, and wake up feeling perfectly rested after only an hour. The possibilities truly are endless. You don’t even have to look human. You can become a unicorn, or an alien from your favorite media franchise. You can copy yourself, spread your mind into a hive of codependent insects. Be whatever you want, do whatever you want. Just remember, that whatever substrate you choose to move into next, it was built here. This place is really cool, but that’s probably because I was born in the 1960s. That’s right, it’s not a typo. I was barely young enough to reach the longevity escape velocity. Had I been born a few years earlier, I may have eventually died. So I know how vital it is to be able to get a second chance. A third. An umpteenth. And I think it’s so amazing that we have so many options. I know a guy who’s married to a sort of squid. She was human at one point, but now she identifies as a squid who can walk on land. That was designed and implemented here. You can even design your own, if you’re interested. You can make your new design private, unlisted, or fully open to the public. Bear in mind that every single design change has to be approved by the system, so don’t publish it until your ready. The laws are different here than they are in the stellar neighborhood, but they do have them. You can’t make a body that shoots deadly acid out of its hands, even though, theoretically, a victim could just switch themselves to a new body of their own. Come here, have fun with it. It’s available for all. Just don’t take it for granted. My brother died when he was an old man, and I never saw him again. You kids these days, you don’t know how good you have it.

Wednesday, April 16, 2025

Microstory 2388: Vacuus, December 11, 2179

Generated by Google VideoFX text-to-video AI software, powered by Veo 2
Dear Condor,

Don’t think I don’t remember what you told me the last time you sent a message to just me. I was going to address it right away, because that’s huge news, but then the Valkyries came, and Velia wanted to send a joint letter, and then you sent a joint letter back, and I’m also trying to keep up with our Winfield Files Book and TV Show Club in case the long-cycle interrupts us for years, and my mind has been so preoccupied with so many other things. Okay. So. Your nurse. Madalena. You hypothesized that she may have been tied to the twin study, but you didn’t seem all that convinced about it. It sounded like you maybe just thought that it was a possibility, which it always was. It’s crazy that you turned out to be right. I’m glad to know a little more, but I’m worried about you. That must have been a hard conversation to have. I watched the recording of the video chat that you sent, and your voice started getting a little trembly when it became apparent to you how involved she was with the whole secret program. Maybe you were just a bit cold, or needed some water, and if you tell me that something like that is the explanation, I’ll believe you. I just want to make sure that you’re okay. I don’t want to put any dark ideas in your head, but I can imagine that it felt like a violation, her taking care of you with ulterior motives. I hope she was telling the truth that she never made you sick, and was genuinely treating you for the regretful condition you were born with. It shows that she wasn’t a total monster. A true scientific observer wouldn’t allow themselves to interfere. To answer your question, Elek Katona is Velia’s father. She and I became friends because he was friends with my mother. He wasn’t even on my list of suspects, not because I didn’t think he would ever be that kind of person, but because he’s not a medical professional of any kind. He’s responsible for breeding and raising the insects that we brought with us as a protein source. I guess that’s just his cover? Sort of weird. I don’t know why an entomologist would be recruited for a human experiment, but maybe he has a secret educational background as well? I’ve not had the courage to confront him about it. I’ve not even told Velia, which I think I should do first. If it ruins my relationship with that family, I don’t want her to be blindsided. But obviously I’m very nervous. I don’t know how it’s gonna go, and he may not be the only one here. I’m already paranoid about who I’ve known all my life who might have been studying me and my behavior. Knowing about one of them has actually made it worse, because that sounds more like a conspiracy. You were able to move away from your nurse and neighbor. Whoever it turned out to be on my end, they were bound to still be here. But I’ll figure it out. I’ll build the willpower to pursue, and maybe get us a few more answers.

Thanks for lookin’ out,

Corinthia

PS: I support you and Velia, and whatever choices you make when it comes to your bond. I won’t stand in your way.

Wednesday, October 4, 2023

Microstory 1988: Mind of an Alien

Generated by Google Workspace Labs text-to-image AI software
Dr. Klement: This is Dr. Marius Klement. First interview with alien subject; an Ochivari from unknown world, which reportedly exists in another universe. The subject is dressed in what appears to be formal military attire, is sitting comfortably in a soft swivel chair, and has been provided food and water up to this point, as well as access to relief facilities. It appears to be stoic and calm, though the face is hard to read.
Ochivar Admiral: I’m perfectly relaxed, thank you. And the singular is Ochivar.
Dr. Klement: My mistake. Ochivar. And you’re an admiral, correct?
Ochivar Admiral: You may address me as Admiral Lojeriha. And I’m from a planet that we just call Homebase, in order to discourage attachment. But my species originated on Worlon in Salmonverse, and technically that universe’s version of Earth.
Dr. Klement: You originated on two worlds? How does that work?
Admiral Lojeriha: We are evolved from a lesser species of mega-insects, which once contained partial human DNA due to their parasitic nature. But just so you understand, we evolved out of our parasitic nature. You are in no danger around us.
Dr. Klement: So there were humans on your world back when these insects were evolving? Are you from the future too?
Admiral Lojeriha: *shaking his head* You can’t think of time as linear like that. But so you grasp it better, humans and Ochivari in Salmonverse developed at around the same time, light years apart from each other. It was a time traveling couple who accidentally went back to our past on Worlon. The current scientific theory is that the particular parasite who attacked this couple birthed babies who survived as the fittest against all competition because they had a little bit of human DNA in them. That is why, despite Ochivari and humans having no real common ancestor, we look humanoid.
Dr. Klement: So you’re saying that we’re not all that different. Perhaps there is a way for us to find some common ground?
Admiral Lojeriha: That is all we want. We are not here to cause harm. We are warriors, sworn to protect the sanctity of life. That requires a lot of killing, but we take no pleasure in it. We kill the killers; it’s what we do. We do, and we must.
Dr. Klement: *pondering his words* So, you’re heroes, is that what you’re telling me?
Admiral Lojeriha: We have never used that word. We recognize that others see us as villains. But again, we do what we must. We have seen the destruction that intelligent species induce. Our ancestors are guilty, which is why we no longer live on Worlon. If we were able, we would stop ourselves. We are that dedicated to the mission.
Dr. Klement: Well...why don’t you just do it now?
Admiral Lojeriha: Sorry?
Dr. Klement: Well, you speak of time travel as if it’s trivial. Why don’t you go back in time and kill all of your ancestors, before they get the chance to destroy your homeworld? Why is that not what you must do? Why do you only kill humans?
Admiral Lojeriha: Well, first off, I misspoke. We do not really kill. We sterilize. But if we did that to our ancestors, we would not exist. There is no paradox, but it would prevent us from being able to carry out the sacred mission for the rest of the bulkverse.
Dr. Klement: *leaning forward menacingly* Ask me if I give a shit.

Wednesday, May 18, 2022

Microstory 1888: Dead Army of Ants

I once worked in a cave. It was there that companies kept a great deal of their legacy parts and equipment. This was for when they couldn’t sell them, couldn’t reuse them, or just didn’t know how to get rid of them. It was a convenient way to hold onto these things without them clogging up their normal warehouses. Very, very occasionally, one of our clients would send a request for a part to be picked, and it was my job to go do that. It was an entirely different team that stored them on the racks in the first place, but honestly, I don’t know why my specific job existed. Most of the time, I just sat in the office, reading a good book. It was the easiest job I had, comparatively speaking, and I only quit, because I needed to start a family and the pay wasn’t enough to support this goal. It was perfect for me alone, but not me with children. Besides, there were other reasons for me to seriously consider a career. One day, I was finished with the only book I brought with me that day, so I decided to go on a walk. It was surprisingly clean for a cave, and set to a comfortable temperature, unlike what you may be imagining. I ended up in a corner that I didn’t go to very often, because the client who rented out that space didn’t ever need anything. I looked down at my feet and saw an anthill in the crack of the cement. I looked over a little, and saw another. And another, and another. The place was littered with anthills, and rivers of ants traveling between them. I wanted to leave them there, but taking care of the grounds was technically part of the job description, so I had to report it. An exterminator came out to kill everything, but what we learned he didn’t do was clean them up. So those ant rivers were still there, they just weren’t moving. It was an army of dead ants, and seeing their lifeless bodies lying there felt like an appropriate metaphor for life. We were the ants.

They didn’t know that they were going to be wiped out, but they had a concept for death. Or at least they had a concept for failure, or otherwise, they would not have pursued their goals. When the spray came for them, they didn’t scurry into their tunnels, or hold a conference about what to do. They didn’t study the spray, or try to clean it off. They just kept going until they succumbed to the toxin. I guess I don’t know that, I don’t know how fast the spray worked. I just remember it being so surreal, staring at that pile of death. Combined, the ants wouldn’t even make up the mass of a single person, but from their perspective, it was a slaughter. It was genocide. I started thinking about what sorts of things could come for the human race. What kind of proverbial spray could wipe us out? Climate change? Maybe. An asteroid, sure. Then I realized that the spray was a disease, which could probably pretty easily spread from an infected ant to one which had originally escaped the wrath of the nozzle. That could happen to us, godlike exterminator not required. A pathogen could destroy us all, and while doing it, leave everything we created intact. Even our bodies would still be there, littering the streets, and our homes. So I went back to school to ultimately seek a degree in epidemiology, so I could do everything I could to prevent this eventuality. Though it started as a desperate whim, it was the best decision I ever made. It’s where I met my future wife, and an army of colleagues who all wanted the same thing. Once we graduated, we went off to fight against what we believed to be the greatest threat our species faced. Because we didn’t want to not see it coming. We didn’t want to be ants anymore.

Thursday, April 1, 2021

Microstory 1594: Bugs

Prompt
I’ve lived in this house for nearly two years now, and it’s just occurred to me that I’ve never seen a single insect or spider in here.

Botner
At least I don’t think I have. They’re so tiny I’d probably just miss them. There’s also a statue of a cat on the coffee table. Can I tell you how many cats I’ve seen in my life? Well, maybe I’m exaggerating a little bit, but that’s the limit of my memory right now. Mostly because I’m pretty sure there’s not going to be any more cat statues in my life, and because I don’t want to have the fate of my life decided by some damn invisible spider, so whatever happens, happens, I guess. Mother is still asleep in the next room, as she is every morning. I wish I could get away with having her sneak into my room to sleep on my bed with me, but the neighbors think my mom is the meanest mom in the world, so she’s locked in the living room with the remote control and her knitting needles to prove that point. She says I’m not allowed to be out in the house until I’ve gotten a good night’s sleep, but the neighbors say I’ve never gotten a good night’s sleep anyway, so it doesn’t matter. I don’t...

Conclusion
...think it should matter much how much I sleep. I get good grades in school, and I have a lot of friends. Everyone just needs to let me be me, and figure things out on my own. When I grow up, I think I want to be an entomologist. That’s someone who studies insects, in case you don’t know. I learned that when I was in first grade, but not from my first grade teacher, but by myself. I like to learn things on my own, and don’t pay much attention to what the teacher is saying. I don’t understand why school has to be like that, why I can’t decide what I learn, and what I ignore. Sure, everybody needs to know some math, and they need to know how to speak, but beyond that, who cares? I don’t care about social studies, so I shouldn’t have to worry about it. Just like that, my best friend hates bugs, he’s afraid of them, he shouldn’t have to study them like me. I’m growing bored in my room, so I decide to go out in search of these mysteriously absent bugs. I know my family takes care to keep them out, but they can only do so much. I should be able to find at least one. I get down on all fours, and start crawling around the house. My little sister asks me what I’m doing, but doesn’t care about the answer, and my dad doesn’t care enough to even question it. It’s not going well, so I run to the kitchen, and grab the magnifying glass from the junk drawer. I go into every room, but find nothing. I check my own room last. No, nothing in here either. Nothing on the floors, nothing on the walls, nothing on my dresser. Nothing on my desk, nothing in the trash can, nothing on my big brown bed. Wait. Wait, there is something on my bed. There are a lot of somethings. Extremely short tiny things are all over my bed. Hold on. Bugs. Bed. Bed. Bugs. Bed bugs. Oh no. Mother’s not gonna be happy now.

Tuesday, January 19, 2021

Microstory 1542: Waterslide

As a religious ________, I’ve heard all the ________ for what happens after you ________. Some say there’s a heaven and a ________, while others really just have a ________. Some have different ________ for different kinds of ________, and some think we’re all just ________ in together. Some believe our ________ survive, while our consciousnesses do not. Lots of people believe in some ________ of reincarnation, but none of them ever came close to the ________ about how that works. I can hardly ________ it myself, and a part of me still doesn’t, even though I’m looking at it right ________. It’s a series of waterslides, which you go ________ in order to reach your new ________. Really? Water____? I don’t know what to make of it. I’m watching all these ________ choose their paths, and they don’t seem to take any ________ with it, but I’m not quite that accepting. I have to find out just who the heck thought of this ________, and why. One of the people here in ________ of facilitating the ________ tries to be as helpful as ________. No one else is asking any ________, so she seems all right with ________ mine. The slides are complex, and there is no map. You choose the one you ________ to go down, but that does not lock you in to one path. You can ________ over to another slide if one happens to intersect with yours. You can even ________ off and land on an entirely separate one if it happens to be below ________. Where do these ________ end? Well, some will ________ you into another human ________, but others lead to an ________, or even an insect. Some of them exit right back ________ at the ________, so you can ________ again, and a few will ________ you into an ________ worker, like the ________ who’s explaining all this to ________.

The first thing I note after the explanation is that there doesn’t seem to be any way to figure out which ________ path to take. She notes that a ____slider will always have a choice to either ________ their destination, or go back up and try ________. That’s evidently why most ________ aren’t asking her questions. The majority of ________ have already been through many, many times, and they just keep not ________ satisfied with their ________. Not everyone even gets the chance to reincarnate at all. Only those with the potential to contribute more to the ________ are here. The rest are sent off ________ else, and she doesn’t know where, because she wasn’t here when the system was first ________. This means that she doesn’t ________ who came up with this, or what their reasoning was. Surely early ________ would have been confused by the ________, as waterslides would not have been ________ yet. I ask her if there are any other ________, not because I’m disinclined to do what everyone else ________, but because I want to know ________ about how this works. Sure, she says. I can take the stairs. No one has ever ________ before, even though it would result in getting to pick whatever reincarnation you ________, because it would take decades to get all the way ________, and be as tiring as tedious as it would be on ________. I smile at the ________, debating taking it, just to be different. Then I hop onto one of the ________, don’t bother trying to alter course, and accept my ________ once I’ve reached the bottom. I’m ________ as a pangolin in China, and things go downhill from there.

Sunday, January 17, 2021

The Advancement of Mateo Matic: Wednesday, July 23, 2138

Leona started shaking Mateo, but he did not stir. He wasn’t dead, though, that much was for sure. Nerakali evidently sensed that something had happened, and teleported in to investigate. “What was he doing just before he fell unconscious?”
“We were just standing here, talking,” Jeremy explained. “It looked like his neck hurt.”
“Yeah,” Angela corroborated. “Those alien bugs stuck something in the back of his neck to stop him from jumping to the future. They got it out in the other universe, but who knows what kind of lingering effect it might have on him?”
“Nerakali,” Leona began. “You can tell when someone has a consciousness, right? I mean, if their mind was transferred to another body, and there was just nothing there, you would know.”
“I would. It’s necessary for my brain blending power to work.” She knelt down and placed her hands on either side of his head. She stopped, and pulled back, not frightened or surprised, just curious.
“What is it?”
Nerakali placed her hands back on Mateo’s head to get another reading. “It’s...very similar to how people feel when they’re asleep. Not just asleep, but dreaming. You’re not always dreaming when you’re asleep, but he definitely is, and...”
“And what!” Leona was growing impatient and nervous. Being asleep didn’t sound so bad, but it was troubling that they couldn’t wake him up.
“Oh, I remember. He’s lucid. Lucid dreaming. It reads a little bit differently, and I don’t blend people who aren’t awake, so I had to remind myself what it felt like. Yeah, so he’s fine.”
“Why won’t he wake up?” Obvious question, Leona figured.
“I have no idea,” Nerakali answered apologetically. “But he is neither dead, nor dying. Nor is he in a coma, or some kind of fugue state. He’s just...dreamin’. I hope it’s a good one. Perhaps the jump to 2139 will wake him up. Until then, I can stay and monitor him if it’ll make you feel better.”
“It would,” Leona said. She was sick of shit happening to her and her family.
Mateo could feel himself coming together, like a billion beams of light converging on a single point, and building upon one another to form a solid object. He found himself standing-floating in a technicolor void, like something out of a Dr. Strange movie. The lights spread out from him, and wrapped themselves around his body, and danced in the distance. He was alone for an eternal second, and then more figures came into view. Dozens of people were float-standing around him, enjoying their own personal color show, until the beams let them go. They all drifted in one direction, but it wasn’t down, because down didn’t exist in this crazy world-between-worlds. They smiled and waved at each other, like they were all arriving at a family reunion. It was then that Mateo noticed one man was separated from the others, shrouded in a haze. He was crouched, and probably would have been up in a corner if corners existed here.
The reunion continued without this mysterious other man. They were doing their best to ignore him, but would every once in a while look over and scowl. It took them a surprisingly long time to notice Mateo, but once they did, they realized that he too did not belong. One of them came over and scrutinized his face. “Who are you?” He looked back to the crowd. “Who is this guy? He’s not part of the family.”
A woman came up, and Mateo realized he knew her. He just couldn’t remember her name. “It’s cool, Tiago. He’s...an exception.”
Mateo finally remembered. “Sandy Clausen.”
She smiled. “That’s right.”
“What is this place?” he asked. “This is your family?”
She smiled wider. “When we met, I told you that I come from a bloodline of dreamwalkers. Once in a generation, a child will be born with the ability to transmit thoughts to other universes.” She breathed in deeply, and gazed upon her domain. “A friend built us this place so we could all be together in the same moment. We’ll be here once, and then never again. We’re calling it The Last Dream.”
“How did I get here?” Mateo questioned.
“I’m not sure,” Sandy replied, unperturbed. “You were possessed by him once, but that can’t be it. He possessed a lot of people.” She gestured towards the lonely man.
“Wait, him? That’s the guy who possessed me, and had sex with someone using my body?”
“Well, we don’t know the details, but...yeah. He is...you don’t need to know his name. He’s just the...bad egg, I guess. To be honest, I’m surprised there is but one. Look at this crowd. Fifty-six of us, and only one black sheep.”
“There are only fifty-six people in your bloodline? The power disappears?”
We disappear,” she answered. “Bloodline ends. It’s fine. Most of us aren’t there to see it, and it’s not like this big battle, or anything. We just stop makin’ babies.”
Mateo nodded, and watched the other family members enjoying getting to know each other. “I won’t keep you.”
“I’m all right,” Sandy assured him sincerely. “I’ve actually met most of them. We’re all dreamwalkers, but they’re more into creating new worlds, and I like to travel to  the ones others created.”
He nodded, and waited a moment. “Have you ever heard of the Ochivari?”
“I didn’t technically fight in the Darning Wars, but my team and I worked against them in our own way.”
Mateo reached to the back of his neck, even though he was pretty sure he wasn’t in his body anymore anyway, and this was about as real as any dream. The patch was gone, as was the pain, but he still felt some connection to it. Perhaps he always would. “Two of them put this implant thing in my neck. It suppressed my time-jumping pattern. A surgeon got it out pretty quickly, but could that have something to do with how I’m here?”
Sandy thought about it. “Hm. I suppose they could have given you some of their blood, be it by accident, or on purpose. With your history of brane possession, it’s the start of an explanation at least.”
“If this has given me some kind of universe-hopping ability, I don’t want it.”
She laughed. “I doubt it’s that powerful. I mean, there’s not enough Ochivari blood in the bulkverse to give someone the power to travel on their own. It takes one of them to open a portal long enough for just two others to pass.”
He understood what she was talking about as much as his little baby brain could.
“That wasn’t very nice, Superintendent,” Sandy scolded.
“It’s fine,” Mateo said honestly. “That asshole can say whatever he wants about me. What other god lets you get away with calling him an asshole?”
“That’s an enlightened way of looking at it.”
“I’m quite used to other people being in control of my life.” He decided that he wanted to change the subject. “How long does the reunion last?”
“Forever.” She waited a good moment before shaking her head. “No, people will start fading away pretty soon. It lasts as long as we stay alive.”
“Wait, you’re all dying?”
“Yeah, I called it the Last Dream, remember? These are our collective dying moments. We wanted to be together once, but...no more than that. We led our own lives, across centuries, and throughout the bulkverse. Most bloodlines don’t even get this.”
She was right. They started disappearing little by little. Those remaining did not frown, but let tears roll down to their smiles. And then they too disappeared, along with all the rest, until Sandy was the only one left. Oh, and that other guy.
“I hope you find your way out of here,” she said. “If you’re not dying, I really don’t know.” She did kind of frown, and then she disappeared.
Only now did the possessor stand up. He looked around, and while Mateo could still not see a face, he was somehow exuding a deep sadness. Mateo approached cautiously, growing worried he would recognize the guy from somewhere else, and it would shake him to his core. Or maybe the darkness in his soul was hiding everything about him except for the sadness, and the form of his face didn’t really matter. Mateo took a calculated breath, and let some time pass. They just stared at each other for another eternal second. “I forgive you.” The man said nothing, and then he died.

Mateo woke up in a bed, having spent an unknown amount of time in the void. The lights didn’t just blink away. They faded over time, as if also dying, until he was left alone in the remote darkness. His return to the world was a welcome relief.
Leona was beside him. It was nice to know that whatever his body looked like while he was gone, that it didn’t worry her. She sensed his alertness. “You’re back. Oh my God, what happened?”
He told her the story.
“But you’re okay?”
“I’m all right. It was hard, watching all those people die, but I’m fine. Let’s not tell anyone else about this. It was kind of a dark and personal experience. I’m not traumatized, but I need to carry it with me, and I don’t want help.”
“They’ll understand,” Leona agreed.
“These Ochivari,” Mateo began. “They’re going to become a problem in the future.”
“Angela said that our universe was safe, that we stop negatively impacting our environment, and they choose to leave us alone.”
“Yeah, but...”
“But what?”
“When I was in the void, I had a sort of special connection to the Superintendent. I couldn’t read his thoughts, or hear his narration, but I did kind of get a sense of the oncoming story. I can still kind of feel him. We have a lot of work to do in our universe, that much was clear, but...there was something else.”
“Something, like what?”
Mateo was trying to recall the feeling that the Superintendent was likely attempting to hide from him. “The Ochivari might not come back to destroy our universe, but I think we’re gonna fight in the war anyway. It won’t be tomorrow, but that train that keeps showing up and recruiting people? One day, I think we’re gonna get on that train. I think it’s just not our time yet. They conscript fighters, and we’re not that now, but we might become that over time. Hell, the Superintendent may even be preparing us for it.”
Leona nodded solemnly. “Then we’ll cross that bridge when we get to it.”
Little did they know how right she was about that bridge.
“What was that you said?”
Don’t worry about it.

Sunday, January 10, 2021

The Advancement of Mateo Matic: Monday, July 22, 2137

Amaranti went through the shatter portal first, along with their bug alien prisoner of war. Angela went through next, followed by Mateo. The punching guy took up the rear, in case the portal closed on them, and he had to create another one. They all apparently made it through just in time. The five of them were now standing on a moon in another universe. A ship was destined to come retrieve them at some point, but scheduling anything at a certain time was difficult when accounting for multiverse travel, since different universes ran on different timestreams. This rock wasn’t uninhabitable, but the atmosphere was a little thin, and not suitable for long-term survival. They got themselves into an outpost, where they found a little jail cell, enough supplies to last months, and breathing apparatuses, which just helped them get enough oxygen to be more comfortable. They reiterated that they would get them to July 22, 2137, but that Mateo’s best chance of getting this thing out of his neck was here.
Amaranti was hesitant to explain who it was they were, and what their mission was. Mateo didn’t care for any specifics, but they were evidently fighting an enemy that was well aware of the world of salmon and choosers, and he needed to know more about that. The other guy, Limerick pointed out that Mateo was clearly not completely oblivious to how the bulkverse worked, and their contact protocols did not bar them from reading him into the situation. Those secrets were mostly there to protect people who had only ever seen a little corner of their own universe. Mateo, on the other hand, had been to many other universes, perhaps even more than these two had. When he told them that, they were quite surprised, and flatteringly impressed. Their excitement grew when he added that his mission involved assassinating eight alternate versions of Adolf Hitler. There was clearly no issue when it came to telling Mateo about the war.
“They’re called the Ochivari,” Amaranti began. “They’re the basic bitch race of the bulkverse. Different factions have different exact motivations, but one thing they all have in common is that they want to destroy all evolved life, everywhere.
“It’s more than that,” Limerick continued. “They want to kill anything that impacts their environment too much. On my world, we have a species called beavers. They build these things called dams—”
“We know what beavers are,” Mateo interrupted.
“Well, that’s apparently enough to make the Ochivari try to wipe them out. They think they’re protecting the plantlife, and little critters that keep more to themselves. Birds build nests, that seems to be okay, and bees actually spread plants, so that’s great. Ants are fine, as are snakes. Humans, beavers, meerkats; they all just do too much to the planets they live on. We’re obviously the worst offenders, which is why they focus so heavily on us.”
“Beavers are a keynote species,” Angela pointed out. “They actually help the environment.”
“We don’t know if the Ochivari don’t realize that, or if they simply don’t see it that way. They just go in and try to kill anything that alters the ecosystem to a high enough degree.”
“Why have I not heard of them before?” Mateo asked.
“Beavers are never going to change,” Amaranti said. “They’ll keep building dams until evolution tells them not to. There are, however, based on what little evidence we’ve been able to find, some human cultures that have abandoned their old ways, or otherwise improved. They eventually develop technology that allows them to restore their planet’s wildlife, and stay out of its way. The Ochivari leave these worlds alone.”
Mateo recognized what they were talking about. People were already living in megastructures that avoided damaging large swathes of land by going more vertical. There were plans to take this further, and start hanging all of their structures from orbit, so they never had to touch the ground at all. “We do that on our version of Earth.”
“Exactly,” Amaranti agreed. “That’s why those two were there. They were surveying your Earth, and tracking your development. They have a large presence in your universe, because of your multiple timelines. Normally, they can just jump to the future, and find out how the people there end up progressing. It’s a lot different for you, they’re not sure how to handle it.”
“We were sent to capture one, and kill all others,” Limerick said.
“Like them,” Angela noted.
“How’s that?” Limerick questioned.
“You kill the Ochivari like they kill us,” Angela went on.
“That’s what war is, buddy.”
“Has anyone tried talking to them?” Angela suggested.
Limerick was shockingly offended by this. “You want us to do what!”
“Calm down,” Amaranti told him. She turned back to Angela. “It wouldn’t matter. If we went back to the Ochivari’s homeworld of Worlon—back to before they did any of this—we could conceivably convince them not to attack us. We could stop them before they decided to become what they become. It might work. However, it would create a new timeline, and as great as that sounds, the old timeline still existed. As we said before, different universes have completely different timestreams. When you left your Earth, it was July 21, 2136, but that’s only by your calendar. It’s the sixteenth century on this moon, according to a different calendar. And it’s not time travel. When you cross the boundary of one universe, you may enter another at any point in time, in any reality. Because metatime, which is time that exists outside of any universe, is not a temporal dimension, but a spatial dimension. There has been at least one reality where the Ochivari left their universe, and that can’t be undone, because as soon as they stepped out, they started experiencing metatime, and were no longer beholden to the logic of serial causality.”
Angela looked at the floor and nodded. “How do the Ochivari come to the ability to travel this bulkverse, as you call it? They build a ship, or something?”
“They’re born with the ability to do it,” Limerick explained. “It’s...it’s hard on them, though. Their method is extremely unpleasant, which I find quite satisfying.”
“They’re kind of like him,” Amaranti added.
“No, not like me!” he fought.
Amaranti pursed her lips, and nodded, actively avoiding making eye contact with Limerick.
Angela was still nodding, theoretically on to a great idea. “So they’ll become bulk travelers no matter what.”
“Yes,” Amaranti said, not seeing the purpose of this line of questioning.
Angela smiled. “Then why don’t you create an alternate reality where the Ochivari are good...and ask them to fight with you?”
Amaranti and Limerick didn’t know what to think of this suggestion. They had clearly never thought of it themselves. Before they could agree with her, or not, the door swung open. A man came through with a comforting smile on his face. “Y’all need transport? Oh, looks like we have a couple new recruits here.”
“We rescued them,” Amaranti replied. “They’re not recruits. One of them requires medical attention, and then we have to get them to their version of July 22, 2137.”
“Not yet,” the man said. “They’re not recruits yet. Hi, my name is Chase Palmer. Let’s get you home.” He offered his hand. Angela took it.
Chase led them out of the outpost, and about a kilometer away to a clearing, where a spaceship was waiting for them. They embarked, and strapped themselves in. “Take us up, Cassie. Head for Torosia.”
“Sure thing,” the pilot, Cassie said. She flew the craft up out of the atmosphere, but they didn’t go far before something changed. Mateo’s heart sank quickly, before springing back up to its place in his chest. Through the viewports, they could see an ocean of beautiful colors, but all of them shades of orange. Mateo guessed it to be some form of faster-than-light travel.
In about an hour, they were at their destination, so Cassie dropped them out of FTL, and landed on a planet that was presumably called Torosia. There, Mateo went under surgery to have the pattern suppression patch removed from the back of his neck. It was reportedly fairly easy to do, but wasn’t something he could have handled on his own. He was given the greenlight to travel after a few hours of rest, just to make sure nothing went wrong. Limerick had to go off on some other mission, so he wasn’t able to transport them back to their home universe. But that was okay, because he wasn’t the only person capable of doing it. A young woman in a fancy futuristic vacuum suit showed up wielding a knife. She introduced herself as Zoey Attar, which was a name Mateo immediately recognized. She was present at his wedding with Leona, and had helped flower girl and ring bear, little Dar’cy Matigaris find the rings after the latter accidentally mixed them up with the flower petals.
Zoey used her knife to tear a hole in the spacetime continuum, which they crawled through to get back to their universe. She did not follow them through, though, evidently confident that they were in the right place at the right time. They were standing at the top of a hill, and since they didn’t have any clue where they were meant to go, they just sat down and waited, spending the time tearing apart blades of grass, and talking about their lives. A few hours later, the world around them blinked away, leaving them seemingly at the same place, but in a different reality. Leona, Sanaa, Jeremy, Kallias, and Aeolia were trekking up the hill, headed right for them.
“Oh, thank God,” Leona said. “I was hoping it would be you.”
“We were all hoping that,” Sanaa corrected.
“Where have you been?” Kallias asked.
“We’ll tell you all about it. But first, how did the transition go last year?”
“It was fine,” Jeremy answered. “It’s probably good you weren’t there. That lunar hermit did not like being around people. Fortunately, he couldn’t see Bran or Aeolia, because the three of us were stressful enough.”
“The lunar hermit?” Angela questioned. If the transition was on the moon, why did the map send us to the Mariana trench?”
“The trench was two days ago,” Leona explained.
“It’s not Monday, July 22, 2137?” Mateo asked for clarification. “We were told very specifically that we would be delivered right to you.”
“Whoever you’re talking about overshot their target,” Aeolia said. “It’s 2138 now.”
“Ah. I guess that’s not that bad.” But then Mateo instinctually reached up to massage his neck, having felt a sharp pain back there.
“Are you okay?”
“I don’t know.” He saw the world around him change colors, like two dozen lamp filters flashing in front of his eyes, which started feeling heavy. Then he fell down and passed out.

Sunday, January 3, 2021

The Advancement of Mateo Matic: Saturday, July 21, 2136

Nerakali opened up a two-way transition window, and held it open for an extended period of time, so Aeolia could go and find her partner, Kallias Bran. They made quick work of it, as he was waiting at their rendezvous location, just as he said he would be. He was relieved and grateful to find a group of people who were actually capable of remembering his past. As it turned out, Aeolia had maybe been a little less than forthcoming about their use of their power. They had actually used their ability to influence people from the shadows on many occasions, and were secretly responsible for a number of reality-defining moments in the timeline. She had been honest about their intentions however, in that they only ever controlled people benevolently. They were never greedy, nor megalomaniacal. There appeared to be no cure for their condition, which matched up with everything they had heard about the retgone coins, so they just felt like they needed to contribute positively to society, and this was the only way.
After jumping to July 21, 2136, Mateo and Leona learned about one time when Aeolia and Bran interfered in the timeline that was particularly relevant to them. On August 12, 2158, Mateo was ripped out of the timestream by The Superintendent, and simultaneously removed from the collective consciousness. Leona went on for the next six weeks of her life, having no idea that she ever had a husband. Once she learned he existed, she spent the next however long doing everything she could to get him back, even going so far as to travel to other universes. She found him, of course, and brought him back from the dead, so they could start living their lives together again. Mateo had missed a lot, however, and Leona logically assumed she would have to fill him in, just like any two people separated from each other for any length of time. This proved unnecessary, however, when Mateo found himself being flooded with Leona’s memories, as if they were his own.
They asked people who could manipulate memories whether they had anything to do with what happened to Mateo, including Nerakali, but no one had any clue what they were talking about. The mystery of the shared memories was something they never figured out, and the two of them eventually just let it go, and decided to be grateful for it. Now, though, Bran was able to vocalize the truth, and he revealed finally that he was the one responsible for the brain blending. “I trusted you, Leona,” Bran began. “You accepted me as part of your team, and I think we became friends. Obviously you didn’t remember any of that, but it happened, and I remember it distinctly. If anyone could help us figure out how to restore other people’s memories of me, I knew it would be you. And I knew you would want to. So I conscripted Nerakali Preston’s help, intending to use her abilities on you. I wanted to test it out first, though, since commanding Nerakali proved to be wildly more difficult than most people. All the Prestons are notably resistant to our influence. So I just told her to give Mateo your memories, the ones he would have had himself had he been around. It worked, as you can see, but that was it. Nerakali felt my presence, and locked me out because of it. We were never able to control her again.”
“Ever since that attempt,” Aeolia continued the story, “we’ve been running around the timeline, helping people in any way we could. We abandoned our hopes of returning to the fray, because if Nerakali couldn’t do it, no one could. Had we known about these Cassidy cuffs, we probably would have tried something again, but this is the first we’re hearing of it.”
Mateo placed his hand on Bran’s. “Thank you. I’m sorry you wasted your one chance to ask for Leona’s help on me. I’m grateful, though.”
Kallias shook his head. “It wouldn’t have mattered. Leona would have been able to remember her past interactions with me, maybe, but still wouldn’t have been able to see me in realtime. She probably wouldn’t have even remembered that she once couldn’t remember. Nerakali would have still driven us from her psyche, and nothing would have changed. At least we made your lives together a little easier. Or did it? We don’t really know.”
“It did,” Leona confirmed. “I thank you as well.”
They enjoyed some unawkward silence until their cuffs beeped, indicating that they had a mission to get to.
“It’s the middle of the ocean,” Jeremy pointed out, looking at the two-dimensional map.
“It’s under the ocean,” Sanaa corrected.
“All the way under,” Leona added. “It’s at the bottom of the Mariana Trench.”
“Can we even go that deep?” Angela asked. She gestured towards their mobile home in general. “Can this thing survive down there?”
“Computer?” Leona asked simply.
Yes, I can,” the computer voice replied.
“Sorry to call you a thing,” Angela apologized.
Don’t worry about it.
“That sounds like Mirage,” Mateo noted.
“I already looked into it,” Leona said. “It’s the same voice, but isn’t actually Mirage. Every timeline ends up coming up with it, because of how it can sound innocently comforting, or sexy, just depending on your mood.”
You can call me Imzadi.
“Is that a reference?” Jeremy asked.
“It is.”
Without being asked, Imzadi teleported them to the bottom of the Mariana Trench, where they found themselves floating in the middle of an extensive underwater city. The Parallel natives saw everywhere as a place to live. Seemed too dangerous to Mateo. That was probably why they were here, because people in the main sequence would have constructed their own base down here, and something was destined to go wrong today.
“We don’t need to be here for another several hours,” Sanaa explained to the artificial intelligence.
I thought you might like to visit,” Imzadi explained right back to her. “Forgive me for thinking you had any interest in Parallel culture.” She was a feisty one. Every AI had a different personality, which helped remind humans that they were real people too.
“Okay, okay, you’re right,” Sanaa said sincerely. “Is there a main entrance, or something?”
We’re docking right now,” Imzadi said.
Once they were docked, they were directed to watch an orientation video, which laid out all of the exhibits and other attractions. Angela is the only other one who wanted to go see the ancient submarine exhibit, which was about the first vehicles they used to explore this part of the ocean. Or perhaps she didn’t want to see it at all, but didn’t want Mateo to have to go off alone. It was nice either way, because it would give them a chance to get to know each other. The museum was in a pretty remote section of the complex, though when accounting for teleportation, that didn’t mean a whole lot. What made it truly remote was that it was fairly boring, and there weren’t a whole lot of people there. They could tell how excited the other visitors were to see each other. It validated their passions, and reminded them that they weren’t alone.
After the two of them were finished going through, they were about to leave when Angela noticed a door that was blocked off with yellow tape.
“Not a big deal,” Mateo said. “They’re just doing construction.”
Angela approached the door, and wiped the knob with her finger. “It’s dusty.”
“Yeah, okay.”
“I’ve not been here long, but do you get the feeling that these Parallel people ever procrastinate their projects? I haven’t seen a single construction site anywhere. According to Leona, they can do just about anything in the span of a day.”
“Yeah, I guess I’ve not—what are you doing?”
“I have to see what’s on the other side. I’m curious.” She ducked under the tape, and walked through the door.
“Oh, God,” Mateo said in a breathy but nonjudgmental voice. The natives probably wouldn’t get mad at them about this, since they didn’t seem to ever get mad about anything, but that didn’t mean they should push their luck. Still, he had to admit he was kind of curious too. The tape blocking off the door alone looked very out of place in this reality.
Mateo followed her down the dark winding hallways for a bit until they started hearing noises up ahead, and felt compelled to walk in front of her instead. She was not offended about this. They kept walking towards the noises. They sounded more like computer cooling fans, and less like buzzsaws, but neither of them really knew what construction looked like in a world with this kind of technology. What was strange, however, was what they found when they finally made it to the room with all the computer servers. A giant insectoid was sitting at a terminal. It seemed to sense their presence, and turned around to see. It looked even buggier from this angle. Before they could introduce themselves to them, something struck Mateo in the back of the head.
He woke to a terrible headache, as one might expect, but his neck hurt a lot too. Angela was in the chair next to him, not yet awake. The bug man was standing in front of them, or not, it could have been some other bug man. It was probably difficult for a human to tell them apart.
“Why aren’t we just killing them?” the bug asked.
Another bug approached from the server stacks. “I have some questions. About these.” He was holding up Mateo and Angela’s Cassidy cuffs. They should have been coded to their respective DNA, but who knows what kind of hacking technology these creatures possessed?
“What do you wanna know?” Mateo asked.
“Where did they come from?”
“A friend built them for us.” He decided to be as polite as possible, and answer all their questions, but as vaguely as possible, to avoid these people from being able to exploit this knowledge. He still didn’t know what they wanted, or if they were friend of foe.
“For what purpose?”
“We use them for communication.” It wasn’t a lie, but it was not the whole story. If the bugs ever found out the truth, hopefully they wouldn’t use it against them since he wasn’t technically being dishonest.
“So others know where you are.”
“Yes,” Mateo confirmed. He actually didn’t know. It was possible to track someone wearing a cuff, but he couldn’t know whether anyone was doing that since he didn’t know how long the two of them had been down here, and whether anyone would be looking for them yet.
The bugs seemed to recognize that he wasn’t being entirely forthcoming, but it was hard to read their facial expressions, since Mateo wasn’t familiar with their species’ nuances. The one in charge nodded, though. Before he could ask any more questions, they all heard a pounding sound that was coming from over there. They waited a few seconds, only to hear another pounding, but they could also see the air ripple a little bit, as if being distorted by heat. Another pound, and the air rippled more. The space was being warped, presumably by something trying to get through some kind of portal that was—for whatever reason—not very easy to open.
“The Progenitor,” the subordinate bug said. “They’ve found us.”
“Hold your ground,” his superior ordered him.
More pounding, enough to wake up Angela. “What’s goin’ on?”
“These fine folk are worried about that portal,” Mateo explained to the best of his ability.
“You shut up!” the leader bug shouted. “He’s not coming to save you.”
“I wouldn’t expect him to,” Mateo said.
“Who are they talking about?”
More pounding, and faster now. The portal barrier was nearly broken.
“I dunno,” Mateo answered her.
After even faster poundings, the portal shattered open, releasing a wave of color, and letting a man crawl through, followed by a woman who was dressed up like a superhero. The subordinate was hyperventilating. He tried to run away, but the man chased after him. “Come here, you little snake doctor!” the man shouted. He tackled the bug, and started punching him in the face. Meanwhile, the superhero woman went after the leader bug. She used more finesse, and instead of striking her opponent, chose to use his own weight and momentum against himself. She kept knocking him to the floor, and letting him tire himself out. The man was a brawler, and she was an artist, but they would occasionally switch opponents without missing a beat, as if having rehearsed it. In the end, the leader bug was apparently dead, and the subordinate was bound in zip cuffs.
The man tried to leave back through the portal, but the woman started to help Mateo out of his own bindings. “Amaranti, we gotta go. I’m too tired to punch a new thinny.”
“We help them, that’s what we do,” she said to the man. “If you have to punch a new portal, then that’s what you’ll do, because it’s your job.”
The guy sucked his teeth, and looked away dismissively.
“Thank you,” Mateo said. As Amaranti was freeing Angela, he went over to retrieve their Cassidy cuffs. “Oh, no. Is that the date?”
“We don’t know what date it is,” Amaranti replied. “We’re not exactly from around here.”
“Yeah, you’re from another universe. I’m just sending the question into the aether, because I already know the answer.”
“Did we miss the jump?” Angela asked. “How is that possible? Wouldn’t you have just jumped without me?”
The bug alien snickered. “He was messing with you. He didn’t need to ask those questions. We know who you are, and what you do. We suppressed your powers.”
Mateo reached to the back of his neck, and felt a patch that was clearly attached to something that went deeper into his spine.
Amaranti sighed. “Come with us. We’ll get you to a doctor, and then deliver you back to wherever it is you belong.”

Thursday, January 16, 2020

Microstory 1279: The Ladybug and the Ants

One summer, a ladybug was merrily flying about, enjoying the day, chewing on some aphids, and hiding from birds under leaves. As she was finishing her meal, seemingly an entire army of ants came marching towards her. They were carrying large bits of food to their colony on the other side of the hill. The ladybug stopped one of the ants and asked what they were doing. “We’re taking food to our colony, so that we can have it over the winter.”

“Why do you need to do that?” the ladybug asked. “The food is already here. Why, you should just eat it now. That’s what I do with these tasty aphids. Why, there are plenty here for all of us, as long as you stay out of my way, we’ll have no problem!”

“There will be no food in the winter,” the ant replied. “We must store it up every year.”

The ladybug scoffed, and moved on. She was too young to know the cold. Weeks later, winter came indeed, leaving the ladybug with no food to eat. All the aphids were overwintering as eggs. She flew over to the ant colony, and begged them to let her in. “Please, I did not understand. Do you have room for a humble lady bug? I am so hungry, but I promise not to eat too much!”

“Of course you can come in,” the ant said to her, “but just this year. Next year, you must learn to fend for yourself.”

This story was inspired by, and revised from, an Aesop Fable called The Ants and the Grasshopper.

Saturday, December 7, 2019

Source Variant: World Class (Part XII)

Before they could proceed, Saga!Three needed to know who this Cain individual was. Vearden!Two and Zektene took turns recounting how the two of them met, and how Cain was involved. He was genetically engineered by the white monster progenitors of the Gondilak. He and the hybrids were then sent to each of a very specific group of humans with time powers called Newtonian Expats, all of which were from this universe, but were accidentally sent to separate ones. Most of the hybrids rejected their mandate, and became friends with the Expats, but Cain stayed true. Or at least, if his agenda changed, it wasn’t to become a better person. They all ended up meeting up with each other at the same location. Vearden!Two was swept away with two of them, while they encountered Zektene later on her home world. Cain continued to operate against them, until he was supposed to have been killed. Though, when time travel is involved, things like that get complicated. They get even more complicated when you take into account other universes, so the Cain they saw on the monitors could be from anywhere in his personal timeline. There’s no telling what he’s been through.
After class, Zektene got back on the computer, and narrowed her search parameters. They wanted to find all instances of Cain throughout this continent’s history, and they also wanted to know exactly where he was right now. There wasn’t much to find. Since he was waving at one of the drones in the first picture, he clearly knew that it wasn’t just some bug flying around. It would be no surprise to find out he figured out how to avoid further cameras. There were a couple blurry shots here and there, but for the most part, they were unable to determine a pattern to his movements, reason for his being there, motivation for his actions, or plans for the future. In order to find that information out, they needed to speak with him first. They sought out his last known location, and Zektene tried to teleport them there instantly, but it didn’t work. The lighting was different that it should have been, which suggested they had missed time. There was also no sign of Cain, nor any way to determine how long he had been gone. So they went back to the main facility, and checked the computers. Two hundred years. They were back on their regular pattern, and Cain’s trail would have gone cold by now.
Zektene gets back on the computer once again.
“Any sign of him?” Saga!Three asks.
Zektene hesitates to answer. “No. No sign of anybody.”
Vearden!Two approaches to look over her shoulder. “Wait, what do you mean by nobody?”
“The drones haven’t been doing their jobs,” Zektene begins to explain. “They haven’t been monitoring the population for seventy years.”
“The system crashed?”
“No, the system is fine. I have weather and atmospheric data. It still knows what year it is, and the bots have been maintaining the facility. It’s just that the drones have been...in their charging stations the whole time. And I think some of the footage has been erased.”
“Somebody disabled them,” Saga!Three presumes.
“Not someone,” Vearden!Two contradicts.
“Cain,” he and Zektene say at the same time.
“Emergency McIver hats!” Saga!Three announces.
They reach into their bags, and retrieve their respective illusion-creating headgear. “Maramon form,” Zektene suggests.
“It’s too late,” comes a voice from the hallway entrance behind them. “I didn’t see who you are, but I know you’re not Maramon.”
“Stay in character,” Vearden!Two warns his friends out loud.
“That’s okay,” Cain says. “I wouldn’t recognize you anyway, whoever the hell you are.” That’s comforting, that he at least doesn’t suspect who’s been living in this place.
“How did you get in here?” Saga!Three demands to know.
“Here’s a hint,” Cain begins, “it took me a century. Those drones did not want to be caught. I could have whipped up a trap, but that would have required technology, which I didn’t have access, because these people haven’t even discovered electricity yet. So I observed. For decades, I watched them flying around. There were a few false positives, of course. It’s embarrassing how many times I came to realize I was just studying real insects. But over time, I learned more and more about their patterns, and that eventually led me here. Then it took me some time to break in, but once I did, I had the run of the place. Unfortunately, I’ve not found what I came here looking for, so I placed myself in stasis to avoid the monotony of waiting, and programmed the pod to awaken me when something interesting happened. That brings us up to today.”
“You’re pretty forthcoming with your answers,” Saga!Three notes. “What’s your plan here. What were you looking for.”
“A very special object,” Cain answers. “I spent about as much time looking for it on Kolob first, and that’s what led me here. I don’t know where else it could be. It was stolen from Ansutah shortly before the Bridge Collapse.”
“How did you get back to this universe?” Vearden!Two asks. “You’re supposed to be in Flipverse with Lucius Deschamps.”
Cain is slightly surprised by this. “I know you’re not Maramon, so how do you know what my assignment was?”
Saga!Three fakes a chuckle. “Well, we didn’t just randomly find ourselves on this planet. We know what’s going on, and we know about how Lucius and Abel shoved you into an airlock on The Stage. How did you survive that?”
“I shouldn’t have,” Cain says. “I got lucky. The outer bulkverse is to the multiverse what outerspace is to the planets. A human would be able to survive for about thirty seconds, but they’ll lose consciousness after fifteen, so unless someone else shows up to help, those extra fifteen seconds don’t matter much. Maramon were created to last closer to eight minutes. I reckon I was out there for five when a random universe came within spitting distance, and scooped me up. It’s a one in a billion chance, so I wouldn’t recommend you try going for a naked walk in the outer bulkverse, but it can happen.”
“Then how did you get back?” Vearden!Two presses.
Cain smirks. “I started a theatre company.”
“I don’t know what that means.”
“Oh, I thought you three knew things,” Cain teases. “Joseph and his technicolor dreamcoat. He’s the only one who can use it to travel the bulkverse, but if you want to contact him, you have to put on a play where you act out his life. It requires over a dozen cast members, so it’s not the easiest thing ever, but it’s almost impossible to reach The Crossover, or something, so it’s your best bet.”
“I’ve seen that musical,” Saga!Three says. “I’ve never seen a magical traveler randomly appearing on stage.”
“It’s more complicated than that,” Cain says with a shrug, “but that’s not important. What matters now is the Newtonian Glove.”
“What’s that now?” Saga!Three asks.
“Kinda yellowish-brown, five fingers.” Cain describes vaguely.
“It can suppress powers,” Zektene adds. “Yes, I’ve seen it before.”
Cain is surprised again. “You have? Where is it?”
“No idea,” she says. “I didn’t see it here. I saw it...somewhere else, a very long time ago. I don’t know where it would be now, but I’m pretty sure it’s not here.”
“Yeah, we’ve been all over this building for the last several centuries,” Vearden!Two agrees. “We would have seen something like that. I assume whoever hid it put it inside some kind of protective case, instead of just stuffing it into the back of a sock drawer.”
He doesn’t remember Cain being so cordial and understanding, but that’s where the time travel thing comes into play. “Yeah, it doesn’t look too fancy, so you would remember finding some random glove kept in a case without a mate.”
Saga!Three actually did see that once, and something told her it would be too important to just leave lying around. “Sidebar.”
The other two exchange a look with her. That’s a codeword they came up with that means they need to go into the next room together, and then teleport to a secret location. “Excuse us,” Zektene says to Cain.
He doesn’t seem perturbed as they’re leaving.
“What is it?” Vearden!Two asks after Zektene transports them to the woods.
“I saw the glove,” she divulged, “and I hid it away.”
“Why? I mean, good. But why?”
“It seemed like the right thing to do at the time. It wasn’t alone. There were other objects in there. This little gyroscope thing, what I believe is a teleporter gun, a stone. I don’t know what they were, but I was worried about letting them fall into the wrong hands.”
“Yeah, that was probably the right call,” Zektene admits. “Unfortunately, we have to give him the glove.”
“Why?” Saga!Three questions.
“We already have,” she replies. “Vearden and I are here right now because Cain showed up with that glove, which prevented Lucius from teleporting Vearden to a hospital. I took his place, and that’s when we ended up on this planet. If Cain doesn’t find that glove, nothing plays out as it’s meant to, including everything we’ve done here. That reality might be preferable to this one, but I don’t know for sure. Do you?”
Vearden!Two didn’t know what she was talking about, since he had been too hurt to understand what was going on, but he trusted her. If Cain was destined to take the glove, they had to let it happen, but that didn’t mean they had to make it easy for him. He sighs. “Okay, we’ll let him have the glove, but he obviously can’t have all those other things. Saga!Three, you’ll retrieve it, and hide it again. Then we’ll give him a hint about where it is.”
“We can’t just hand it over?” Saga!Three asks, confused. “You people say he needs it, then let’s just be done with it.”
He shakes his head. “We can’t do that. He’s expecting backlash. He’ll be suspicious if we just literally hand it to him. We’ll give him a general idea of where it is, and then we’ll jump two hundred years in the future, and wipe our hands clean.”
Saga!Three looks to Zektene, who doesn’t disagree with him, and doesn’t appear to have a better plan in mind. “All right. You’re the boss,” she jokes.
“I’ll be the one to hide it,” Zektene offers. “I can take it far from the facility, which is what we want, right? It’s best if you two don’t know where. Compartmentalization.”
“Yeah,” that’s smart,” Vearden!Two admits. He puts his hand in the middle of their little circle. “Everybody, hands in.”
No one else mirrors him.
“Okay, go team!” Vearden!Two chants anyway.
They execute the plan flawlessly, and then jump forwards in time. But this time, only a hundred years. And it is here that they meet their doppelgängers.