Spaghetti West: Childhood’s End (Part V)

« < » > Entire Story

Generated by Google Flow text-to-video AI software, powered by Omni Flash 1.1

The mysterious local ship or space station was wasting time and resources trying to fire on Sugar’s ship. She had no offensive measures of her own, save for the hot pocket, which was currently empty because up until this point, they had no reason to conceal their heat signature. The defensive measures, however? Well, those were stacked to the ceiling. It was designed with an EM shield, a TP field, and a GD yield. The first one was the most common. Every interstellar vessel needed to have it, or compensate for it with an extremely robust—and costly—physical hull. The teleportation field was simple enough, but at the very least, it required knowledge of temporal manipulation in the first place. The geodesic yield was a different story altogether, and these strangers instantly assumed that Sugar’s ship would not be equipped with it.

The first two defensive methods were no match for extremely high-energy particles, which were sometimes known as exotic particles. They were just too small and too fast. Even an endless supply of power would make the task an improbable proposition. There was an entire star system called Toliman, which colonists avoided due to an unusually high concentration of ultra high-energy cosmic rays. To protect against them, you don’t just have to know about time travel, you have to have an intimate understanding of advanced spacetime mechanics.

The GD yield didn’t deflect these particles, it basically just moved out of their way. It warped spacetime around the ship, so that when particles attempted to collide with it, they instead passed around the breadth until reaching the other side. From the particles’ perspective, nothing happened—they simply maintained their respective constant vectors the whole time. This was the best way to handle it without going the transdimensional route because it prevented energy exchange, which would be the inevitable result of any means of deflection. Again, even if you had the power to simply swat the particles away, doing so would generate subatomic reactions that could result in secondary damage, especially at scale from trillions of these collisions.

The first thought these strangers had was to beam them with exotic particles. They didn’t ask questions, they didn’t assess the threat, they just fired. And instead of starting small, they went straight to one that most vessels would be powerless to survive. Whoever these people were, they were not nice, and they were not messing around. Someone would have to do something about that.

Sugar could have just stood there and waited them out, but now she was just pissed off. If they wanted to play dirty, she could get creative.

“So what are you doing?” Liselot asked her after Sugar quickly explained how they were able to protect themselves from the onslaught.

“I’m dialing down the GD yield,” Sugar explained.

“Won’t that hurt us?” Liselot pressed.

“It would,” Sugar said, “if I turned it off entirely, but I’m just creating a few billion collisions, the irony being that if they didn’t ever fire, I wouldn’t have any ammo against them. Until they showed up, we had no reason to mask our heat signature, so the heat shunt was off. I’ve now turned it on, and I’m diverting the energy to it. Once it builds, I’ll purge it and fire right back, targeting their weapons array as a warning. Every time they hit us, we’ll hit them back just as hard, like Sebastian Shaw.”

“Is that a band, errr...?” Liselot asked, trailing off.

Sugar stopped. “Where did you hear that?”

“I told you, I’ve never heard of him.”

“No, that phrase, is that a band, errr. That’s a common time traveler phrase. We say that all the time. I didn’t know it had made its way into the general population.”

“I don’t know that it has,” Liselot replied with a shrug. “It’s just something I said. Is it a secret code, or something?”

Sugar sighed and shook her head. “No. Never mind.” She looked back at her screens. “Hot pocket is full; that was fast.” She leaned over the console. “Unless you have any objections, I’ll fire it.”

“Do what you gotta do,” Liselot encouraged.

Sugar pushed the button. Their own energy beam was released from its hold all at once, hitting the supposed enemy so hard and fast that it didn’t have time to protect itself. That was what happened when engineers designed for offense; they sacrificed defense in service to it. They had diverted all of their power to the energy weapons so that their own EM shield was severely underpowered, and practically useless. In seconds, the weapons were disabled, leaving the strangers as sitting ducks.

A console began to beep. Liselot looked over to it. “I think they’re calling.”

“You’re my comms officer now. Go ahead and open a channel,” Sugar requested.

After Liselot did as she was asked, a woman appeared on the main screen. “This is Supreme Chancellor Gentry Ruvow. We attempted to end your lives quickly and painlessly, but you have chosen the difficult route. Please switch off all defensive and offensive systems, and prepare to be boarded. In exchange, my operatives will no longer make it painless, but we will still make it quick. If you resist or attack again, the full force of the Desulforudisian Guard will descend upon you, and nothing will keep them at bay. Respond now with your surrender.”

Sugar smiled. “Supreme Chancellor, we will not be surrendering—”

Gentry immediately closed the channel. The viewscreen turned black.

“This, kids, is why it’s sometimes necessary to bury the lede.” Sugar sighed. “Okay. The global address system we installed so we could reach out to all of Bida. Do you think you could modify it to address the planet down there, whether they call it Desulforudis, or whatever? I need to work on a few other things.”

“Yeah, if you could do it, I can do it,” Liselot agreed.

Meanwhile, a number of ships launched from their space stations, or even from the surface, all heading towards Sugar and Liselot. They would not be able to take them all on. Orbit was no longer a safe place to be. Sugar didn’t understand what these people had against Tau Ceti, but she was going to find out, no matter how much they resisted.

After a few minutes, Liselot said, “I’ve done it.”

“Great. Just in time.” Sugar flung the hardware identifier code over to Liselot’s workstation. “Route communications to this buoy. It’s equipped with its own miniature hot pocket, and can scramble regular radio waves on a quantum level, so they will not be able to trace it.”

“Where are we gonna be?” Liselot asked as she was uploading the new program, and taking the initiative to launch the buoy.

“On the surface. I have a nice little patch of land picked out for it. Well, it’s a building. Brace for minor atmospheric disturbance.” They didn’t need the equilibrium generator again this time, though entering an atmosphere always did throw off the artificial gravity controls, especially if done so quickly. This planet came with a protective teleportation barrier, but she rather easily bypassed it. The natives still didn’t understand who they were up against, and continued to underestimate the two of them.

In a moment, they were parked on top of the Capitol Building, which was where Ruvow was talking to them from. “Reopen the channel to that asshole first, not the whole planet yet.”

Liselot tapped on her screen, then nodded at Sugar.

“Supreme Chancellor? Supreme Chancellor, are you there?” Sugar asked. “Supreme Chancellor, I don’t know if you noticed, but we’re no longer where we were before. If you attempt to fire on us again, you will literally only be hurting yourselves. I suggest you answer so we can work this out. I realized my mistake when I first responded to you. I tried to be nice. I should have started with...I’m not fuckin’ around! Answer the goddamn phone, or I poison the well with your own people!”

Ruvow’s face reappeared on screen. “You insolent little—”

“No, you’re gonna listen to me now,” Sugar interrupted. “You have been sending us black hole after black hole after black hole, and when we show up to put a stop to it, you don’t even apologize? You just try to kill us? What kind of monster doesn’t even take a second to find out if they’re murdering innocent children on a school trip, or a hospital ship? That’s ignoring all the people you tried to kill on my home planet in the first place. I want an explanation, and I don’t want any more threats out of your little mouth.”

Ruvow narrowed her eyes. “We have not been sending you black holes. You have been sending them to us!” She started out calm before devolving quickly by the end.

Sugar shut her eyes in frustration. “Did you ever think that maybe that wasn’t us, and you should ask us about it first? Again, what kind of monster are you?”

“We don’t ask questions,” Ruvow replied. “If someone invades our space, we destroy them. That is our way. We have established ourselves in this system, and that should be enough. Merely being present makes you a threat. I don’t know if I believe the black hole weapons aren’t from you, but it doesn’t matter. Now exit your vessel and surrender to the operatives who are now surrounding you on the roof.”

Sugar pantomimed turning down the volume, prompting Liselot to do it for real. “I’ve heard of these people...total idiots. I thought we sort of bred them out of the population because they kept putting their hands on hot stoves and eating glass, but I guess some managed to survive long enough to invent the aerosol can.” She glanced over at navigation. “I know where we are now. We’re in another galaxy. My people call it Miridir, but you may know it as Andromeda XXI.”

“That is millions of light years away. How is it colonized?” Liselot questioned.

“It’s a long story,” Sugar began, “but this isn’t Dardius, which is the only planet I’m personally cognizant of as being populated here. I’m guessing this is some kind of offshoot faction from there...isolationists in the dark forest.”

“The dark forest hypothesis was virtually debunked centuries ago. If you want to keep people out of your home, you tell them that it’s your home, you don’t make it look available.”

“I know. Like I said, they’re stupid. But they’re also under attack. If they’re getting their own procession of KBHs, our conjecture of natural causes no longer sounds viable.” It wasn’t just happening to Tau Ceti, which meant the black holes were no accident. Only happening at one location? A tragedy, but at least it followed a plausible natural pattern. Many locations, each only experiencing one black hole? Okay, that would be even more believable because of the randomness. But two systems—constant bombardment? That was a directed attack. Someone wanted to hurt Tau Ceti, as well as the Desulforudisians, and perhaps understanding their common thread would tell them who. Who would have motive to destroy them both when the two worlds were millions of light years apart, and had not even heard of each other?

“Volume back up, please,” Sugar ordered. She looked back at the Supreme Chancellor, who was still sitting there, surprisingly patient. “Someone is attempting to hurt us both. We have a saying where I’m from. The enemy of my enemy is my friend.”

“We have a similar saying. It goes, the enemy of my enemy is still my enemy. I can have more than one enemy, and do. All are enemies.”

“Well, that’s quite a mouthful but... Suit yourself.” Sugar turned her head. “Lise, open a global channel now. I wanna talk to everyone who lives here.”

« < » > Entire Story

Microstory 2633: Riding the Blinds

< > Table of Contents

Generated by Google Gemini Pro text-to-video AI software, powered by Veo 3.1

It’s the year 2424, and the trip to Castlebourne will take 108 years, because it is 108 light years away, and the ship will be able to travel at just under light speed. Due to special relativity, however, it will only feel like a couple of months for anyone on the ship. That preposition is more appropriate for Mandica than for anyone or anything else. They will actually be inside of it while she’ll be on the outside, like a parasite.

“That’s not the right term,” her pilot argues. “It makes it sound like you’re hurting the ship. I promise, it won’t even notice you. You’re not a parasite, it’s...” He trails off as he looks it up on his device. “Phoretic. You’re a phoresy. Yeah, that sounds better.”

“You literally called the pod The Barnacle,” Mandica argues.

“It’s a joke,” he defends.

“That hat is a joke,” she snaps back. She knows, she shouldn’t be so mean.

“Uh, it’s a trilby, and it’s what we call retro-stylish,” he boasts.

“All right, Trilby.” She notices that he seems to like that nickname. “Tell me how this works so I don’t vaporize myself in the middle of interstellar space.”

Trilby literally pulls back the curtain to show the little pod that she’ll be in. It looks like the inside of a nutshell, but only half of it. There is no other half. This will evidently be sealed against the hull, so the hull acts as the fourth wall, and if that seal ever breaks, she’ll be exposed to the vacuum of outer space. “Okay. You’ll have to be in your Integrated Multipurpose Suit when we begin, helmet and all. You can hold onto these handles so you don’t slip off. Of course, you’ll be tethered, but if you slip out during the process, the seal will snap that tether, and you’ll start to float away.”

“Got it. Hold on tight.”

“Right,” he agrees. “Once it’s sealed, I wouldn’t unseal it until you reach your destination, or you’ll be screwed. It can be resealed, but you would have to keep your grip on it for that to work, so just don’t do it. There’s no door. You can only get out by detaching from the hull. I assume you’re halfway decent with computers. Everything you need is on this console, and it will interface with your suit. It has its own powersource, but it’s minimal, so I suggest you let it siphon from the arkship. Don’t worry, it’s a small pod, and you’re only one person, so the power draw will be well within the margin of error. As long as you don’t do anything crazy, you won’t be detected.”

“Can I take my helmet off in transit, or even my suit?”

“Helmet off should be fine. This thing has its own climate control. I would leave the suit on most of the time, however. If you do remove it, do it in short bursts to let your body breathe, but don’t fall asleep like that, or anything. It’ll be a tight seal, but I won’t be there to fix any issues. It will all be up to you.” He lifts a flap on the end of the console. “Here’s a copy of the operator’s manual, in paper form. There’s obviously a virtual version of it, but this is just in case. He opens a small cupboard. It also has dayfruit growers, but I could only fit four of them, so you’ll want to supplement with the meal bars below it, and your dayfruit smoothie in your Portable Resource Unit. I don’t remember how long regular humans can go without food, so rationing will be up to you. Just be careful and pay attention to your supplies.”

Mandica sighs and looks over her little lifeboat. “Any exercise equipment? I’ve actually never been to space before today, and I spent most of the time hiding in that shipping container. But I hear that we regular humans have trouble with zero-g over long periods of time. I assume I’m subject to the inertial dampeners, or I simply wouldn’t survive high relativistic speeds at all anyway.”

Trilby nods. “The pod will leech from the inertial dampeners, but it’s weird because of how it attaches.” He points to some of the controls. “You’ll be able to tune it, however. If you just turn this dial, it will lower the effects slightly, allowing you to make the back of the pod down. Don’t be scared of it, you will not be able to turn your private dampeners so far down that you splatter against the wall. And this isn’t even the wall. Think of it as the floor. See? Here’s your bed.” He slides the bed lid away. Because of this little shuttle’s own inertial dampeners, it looks like the bed is up against the wall, but that will change once she’s attached and on the move. “You can still do exercise. Your suit has a number of programs built in, which you can peruse yourself. Just be sure to narrow the results to close-quarters, or it may try to get you to run away.”

Mandica nods repeatedly. She’s growing quite nervous. It was bad enough when he snuck her onto the space elevator, but now she will be completely alone. If this fragile thing pops off, and she manages to survive that, she won’t be able to get into the ship. She won’t be able to ask for help. Even in an emergency—even if she’s willing to get caught—the arkship may be fully automated, and help may be difficult. Some bots don’t respond to black swan events. They won’t know how to respond to her pleas. And she’s not going to ask this guy if there will be any intelligence present, because nothing should go wrong at all. She will be tucked away safely for two months, and be free of Core World rule forever. She doesn’t hate the establishment, but she wants to remove herself from it, and this is the only way. She can’t afford the energy credits for anything else.

“It’s gonna be okay,” Trilby says to her.

“Have you done this before?”

“Not this exact thing, but I’ve tested the barnacle pod. It will work, as long as you treat it right, and don’t push the wrong buttons.”

“No pressure,” she says.

He takes a chance and places a hand upon her shoulder. “You’ll do well.”

She doesn’t know him, but he’s been helping her, and risking a lot to do it, so she decides to go for it and give him a hug. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” He looks over at his screen. “We’re comin’ up on it. Remember what I taught you, and for everything else, rely on your survival instincts. Digitized people don’t have those anymore, but yours will know what to do. Better put on your other two IMS layers, but first, fix your inner layer. You have it on backwards. The autozipper goes in back. Let me know when you’re ready. I have to seal the bulkhead before I open the airlock, but we’ll be able to talk on comms. I’ll stay with you until I get out of range myself, or the arkship launches, and you speed away in a flash.”

“All right.” She puts her suit all the way on, and tethers herself to the barnacle pod. He opens the airlock, and lets the pod drift out for a little bit before seizing it with his grabber claws. He maneuvers the barnacle in front of his shuttle as he makes his approach. She wants to close her eyes, but that would just be unsafe, so she watches. She looks around for any cameras, drones, or lurking spacewalkers. No one. No one will know she’s here. The claws push the pod forward, and automated systems automatically latch on. The vacuum seal engages until she’s fully secure. They spend the next few hours getting to know each other better before the arkship powers up and flies away.

Microstory 2628: The Welcome Sign Has Been Flipped Upside Down

< > Table of Contents

Generated by Google Flow text-to-video AI software, powered by Veo 3.1, and Google Gemini Pro, powered by Lyria 3

October 16, 2526. Breanna and the small group of survivors are parked at the drive-in. That’s not even just some metaphor. They are on the outside of a dome, parked with a bunch of other rovers, and before them, a film is being projected. Right now, they’re watching a very old movie from the 22nd century called 100 Years. Well, they’re not really watching it, but it’s playing. It’s stupid, really, and just an attempt to make their lock-out feel fun, instead of a humanitarian crisis. The domes are full-up, according to the people running them. They are only letting in people who don’t even have rovers, which don’t exist anymore, because if you came here without mobile protection like even a suit, you’re already dead. The Teaguardians dispatched two more dropships to build giant temporary bridges between the northern polar region, and the rest of the Terminator Line in the northern hemisphere—like the one they made in the south—but it’s not seeing any use. Again, everyone is already here or dead.

Their group has become somewhat famous as being the last to arrive, because once that ring fault broke apart, and the chasm appeared, no one else was able to cross it. They either didn’t know how, or died in the attempt. Still, the notoriety hasn’t earned them a spot in the domes, except for Sorel. He was able to convince the leadership of a different dome to let him in so he could potentially alleviate the strain that this influx in population is placing on their limited resources. He’s in there now, or potentially in some different dome, proselytizing about the benefits of interstellar consciousness transference. The locals love him, because he’s helping get rid of the “unwanteds” but his friends don’t know how successful he’s been lately. It’s been a while since they’ve talked. He’s at least seen some success, but the domes haven’t reopened their doors, so it’s either not enough, or they’re pretending that it’s not.

They made contact with the other Levins and Breckenridgers. Not all of them survived the perilous journey, but most did, and the majority of those are in a dome a few hundred kilometers away. This one here is the only one which might plausibly welcome the extras eventually. Until then, they’re making do. The rover isn’t particularly roomy, but it has a lavatory, and the top-down recycling system is functioning optimally. Morale is okay, for the most part, but Shimizu is always huffy. They were on their way out here on foot, which was harder, but also would have placed them in a better position to be let in. So, he’s mad at Breanna for picking them up, as if she could have had any idea that the rover would harm their chances. The rest are being more logical about it, and just feel lucky to still be alive. He’s also unhappy about Heracles, who sits on top of the rover, and may or may not be lowering their chances of getting in this dome as well. The concern is doubtfully warranted as many other rovers are also stuck out here—all beetloid-free—which is why they’re even bothering to screen these movies.

Tertius initially volunteered to leave with his daughter to give everyone more room, but Aeterna is glad now that the group refused to take them up on that after she turned out to be pregnant. Shimizu is wary of them as well, ignorantly believing that immortals can only procreate with each other. If that were true, the disgust would be justified, but Aeterna assures them that it’s not the case. It’s offensive that he would even suggest the possibility. She is simply under no obligation to tell them who the father is. At last, it seems that their persistence has paid off. Whoever needed to learn of Aeterna’s condition has responded to their new application, and is ready to let them in.

“See?” Calypso says, “you were pissed off about nothing. The baby helped us.”

“It is too soon to tell. We’ll see,” Shimizu recited, fancying himself a philosopher.

“Another message,” Cash says, looking at her screen. “They’re asking us to drive along the perimeter, at least a hundred and twenty meters from the dome, to what I’m guessing is a remote area, and pull up to a different entrance. They don’t want other hopefuls to see that we’re getting in.”

“Well, it’s gonna look weird when we suddenly restart the engine, and get moving again” Breanna says. “No one has budged since we got here. There’s nowhere to go.”

“I’m pulling up satellite imagery now,” Cash says. “Yeah, if we head this way first, it will appear as if we’re giving up, and trying our luck at this dome to the east. Then we can circle back around, and avoid being spotted.”

“You think they’ll fall for that?” Notus questions. “They can see the satellites too.”

“They’ll have no reason to check them,” Cash decides.

“All right.” She pounds on the roof. “Hold on!” she yells to Heracles, like it matters. She starts the vehicle, and gets on Cash’s suggested route. It turns out not to be that easy when it starts a new caravan. Seeing them move is likely causing others to believe that they know something no one else does. It’s kind of true, but it’s not going to help them. “Shit. We have to shake them somehow.”

“I have an idea, but it’s reckless, and you’re gonna hate it,” Cash says.

“Give it to us anyway,” Breanna prompts.

“Don’t go any faster. Just let them follow us. Everyone, get yourselves sealed up. We’ll be abandoning the rover. Aeterna, you can still fit, right?”

“Yes, I’m fine,” Aeterna replies. “I’m barely showing. Hold on tight, little Dilara,” she says to her belly as Tertius starts helping her put her suit back on.

“Okay,” Cash continues. “I don’t have time to teach you all to activate active camouflage, so give me access. This is non-negotiable. If one of us gets caught, we all get caught, you can’t opt-out...unless, I suppose, you just decide to stay with the car.” They all do as she asked. “This doesn’t make you invisible, it’s not magic. You will still need to find cover, but you will be harder to spot. It basically scans the coloring and texture behind you, and repaints your front to match. But you still want to hide, and don’t move around too much once you find your spots, okay? We won’t walk back to the dome until it’s clear, so wait for my signal. Everyone ready? Helmets on. On my cue, only when we turn around bends,” she adds as she’s crawling back that way.

Breanna puts the rover on autopilot, and crawls back there too.

“What about Heracles?” Notus asks.

“He can’t come with us,” Breanna says apologetically. “He’s too conspicuous.”

“He has camo too,” Notus argues.

“But the rover doesn’t,” Breanna says as Cash is sending people out one at a time. “The rover can’t make it look like he’s still there. I’m sorry, we’ll get you a new one.”

“That was insensitive,” Notus points out.

“You’re right, I’m sorry. We might be able to send for him later, but right now, they won’t let any of us in if anyone else tries to get in too. Please understand.”

“Fine,” Notus says, obviously still upset.

“Now, go, go, go!” Cash directs.

They continue to jump out, but Shimizu ultimately gets them all caught.

Microstory 2430: Advanced Research Dome (ARD)

< > Table of Contents

Generated by Google Gemini Pro text-to-video AI software, powered by Veo 3

In the early days of interstellar colonization, they largely expected you to start from scratch, though the definition of this term is a little loose. I mean, they had domes too, because almost none of them had an atmosphere that was breathable by organic Earthans. So there was some technology right from the start, and they were making scientific advances on their own, but Earth remained front and center in the industry. You just can’t beat that kind of established infrastructure and strong, lasting institutions. I’m not sure that’s true anymore. While Teagarden took over the majority of the military needs of the Core Worlds, that was mostly for political reasons. They wanted to erase any sense that it favored the nations of Old Earth. Physics research didn’t have to switch homes, but it has. These new reframe engines people are using to travel at faster-than-light speeds? Those were apparently invented here. Developments in anti-gravity; induced stasis; transhumanistic enhancement, including bioforming; terraforming; power generation and distribution...it’s all here. Dare I say, we’re now more advanced than Earth is, even with all of its advantages? I’m sorry to tell you that that is my conclusion. If you’re interested in furthering our understanding of physics, biology, chemistry, or any other scientific field, your best bet is to come here. Earth’s programs are nothing to scoff at, and I don’t think they’re doing anything wrong, but at some point, the brightest minds in the galaxy evidently decided to move, and before anyone realized what was happening, the power shifted here. Good or bad, that’s what happened. This power may shift once more, back to Earth, or perhaps some third star system, but for now, this is the nexus of scientific exploration. The silver lining is that they’re not hoarding it any more than Earth did. They’re sharing what they’ve learned with others, so we’re at least safe from the privatization threats that we’ve faced in days past. Word of warning: this dome is not for visitors, really. You can come, and they’ll let you walk around, but we’re dealing with a lot of dangerous things here, so the majority of the sectors are off-limits without proper authorization. People keep randomly showing up, believing that we have something to show off, but that’s not what we’re doing here. This is just for us. If you want to join, fill out the right application. If you don’t yet qualify, find a learning platform, and catch up. There are no limits to who can help humanity and its offshoots achieve everything we ever dreamed of.

Microstory 2410: Mildome

< > Table of Contents

Generated by Google VertexAI text-to-video AI software, powered by Veo 2

This dome is for flowers. It’s a self-sustaining ecosystem, and it’s growing. Here’s the thing, at the moment, it’s mostly just grass in the center of a vast desert. There are pockets of flower gardens here and there, but they are going to spread over the course of the next several decades. This was done intentionally, not because the builders were lazy, or something. It’s all about the pollinators. You got your bees, you got your butterflies and moths, you got your flies. Not houseflies, that’s not what we’re talking about, nor blackflies. Those are gross and annoying. Don’t ask me the exact species of any of these things, I’m not that big of an expert. I just really like flowers. Continuing on, you got your hummingbirds, you got your honeyeaters and sunbirds, you got your bats. I looked it up, there are other animals that are good at pollinating on Earth, but they either don’t have them on this planet, or it’s taking time to engineer them. I doubt that they transported live specimens clear across the interstellar void. I don’t think you can do that legally, unless they qualify as a pet. You know what I learned while I was here? Humans are pollinators too. I don’t just mean that we plant plants. Obviously we do that, but we also have a history of lifting pollen, and carrying it to other places. Isn’t that cool? Well, you can do that under Mildome, if it strikes your fancy. The creators want this space to be the culmination of the hard work of millions of living organisms, including people like you can me. One day, the whole surface will be one giant garden, like a little microcosm of the world. I will be coming back regularly to see how it progresses, but I can’t wait for the “end” result. Of course, it won’t be finished at that point. The pollinators will continue to do what they do best, and this dome will thrive. Without any negative environmental factors, like climate breakdown, there’s nothing standing in its way. That’s something you have to see if you’re here on the planet anyway. Plus, there’s tons of honey, because of the bees. In addition to taking care of them, and learning about them, you can also eat however much honey that you want. If that doesn’t convince you, I suppose nothing will.

Microstory 2401: The Terminal

< > Table of Contents

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

You know what? This place is big. They call it the Terminal because everyone who quantum casts their consciousness to this planet runs through here. It’s mind-boggling how large it is. I think I heard someone say that every cast-capable individual could upload their mind to a new substrate here at pretty much the same time, and there would be enough room for everyone. I don’t know about that, but I saw this thing from the outside, and I think I believe it. But in the end, the principle remains the same. You get in an egress pod wherever you’re coming from, hook yourself up to the machine, and zip across the interstellar void. You wake up about an hour later, and start moving around in your new body. You’re a little shaky at first, because I admit, it was a new experience. The technology they use to transfer your consciousness is a little different. They have to worry more about things like interference and signal degradation. Don’t get me wrong, I wasn’t afraid, and I don’t regret it. I just mean, the end result may be a bit different than what you’re used to. It’s just a little harder to acclimate, even if you’re a seasoned caster. Fortunately, they were prepared. They have nearby acclimation rooms that are designed to help you figure things out. They have bars to hold onto and treadmills; basically everything you would find in a physical therapy gym. I was told that they do offer mech subs, if you want that instead of an organic. I’ve never personally used one of those kinds of bodies, so I can’t speak to that experience, but if you choose that route, you may be able to move around just fine right away. Anyway, I didn’t need to use any of the equipment. It was helpful just to have a place to sit and relax. They also had an orientation theatre. Some of it was in person, surely from an android of some kind, while other parts were on the holo-screen. There are way too many domes for them to go through them all, but they do teach you how to search through the catalog, so you can find the exact experience that you’re looking for. But I won’t get into specifics here. I’m sure once I start going to the domes, I’ll review those too. This is just about The Terminal. You should know, they do have medical facilities here, and hygiene stations. I didn’t use any of those, but they’re there if you need them, and they looked nice. I set my trip up ahead of time, so I pretty much received my orientation packet, and bounced. It looked like some people were hanging out there for a little while, though there are plenty of domes that offer relaxation options.

Microstory 1649: Birth of a Brane

< > Table of Contents

This will be the last new universe that I tell you about. The next fifty little stories will give you some more information about the previously discussed universes, in the same order. They may just contain more details that I didn’t mention before, or specific stories that, in some way, encapsulate what it’s like to live in these places. I’ve talked about the Maramon before, and told you that they come from a universe called Ansutah, but I’ve yet to describe that universe for you. It’s one of the smaller ones, and I mean that literally. Natural branes are infinitely large, meaning that they keep expanding as time within the membrane persists. Where one ends is synonymous with when it ends, because the size is a function of time more than it is space. C-branes operate differently, however. They’re only as large as they need to be in order to fit the story within, and to satisfy its characters. If said characters have no need to travel to the next star over, then that star will not exist. They may think that it exists. They may even be able to observe it. But it will not really be there. It will be a hologram, and only when something changes about their future will that universe expand in order to allow them to go there. Until that happens, this hologram is being projected on the inside of the membrane. It’s like a big wall that would kill you if you crashed into it, but as I said, that doesn’t matter, because it’s impossible to reach that wall. The universe will grow at least as fast as you can fly through space. Unless you’re in Ansutah. This is because Ansutah is not entirely a c-brane. It’s not entirely natural either, but it is complicated, and its limitations provide for a terrible little exception, which forced the residents to reassess their values.

Salmonverse is both a natural brane, and a c-brane, because of The Superintendent’s access to it, and his uses for it. At one point, a spaceship left a rogue planet called Durus, bound for a return trip to Earth. This ship was only designed to accommodate a small crew, and maybe a few passengers. It just wasn’t that big, because it didn’t originally need to be. Due to some socio-political issues, the crew decided to adapt the ship, so that it could fit dozens more people. They couldn’t build extensions, because the engines wouldn’t be able to handle more mass. They installed pocket dimension generators, which gave them extra space, without making the ship proper any larger. Something went wrong in one of these pockets. A girl was born with the power to make the pocket grow, and a boy was born who could conjure entire beings. Now, even a pocket dimension generator has limits, so the only solution—if they couldn’t simply put a stop to the growth—was to separate the pocket from the ship, and indeed, Salmonverse itself. This was how Ansutah was born. It should have continued expanding from there, but the girl was taken from the world just before the connection was destroyed. This started causing problems for the ship, and also stunted the growth of Ansutah, limiting them to a very tiny solar system, and a wall that actually could be reached. The boy, meanwhile, continued to breathe life into the world, and these Maramon started to procreate on their own, and over the millennia, the population rose to the billions. They didn’t know that their universe was limited, or that they would collide with the membrane in an attempt to explore the stars. Once they learned this, they grew angry, but it didn’t stop them from propagating the species. As they were hunting for a workaround, the population continued to climb, making their efforts all the more vital.

Microstory 1492: Death of an Immortal

< > Table of Contents

Life on Durus only got worse after the realization that no more paramounts were being born. People’s time powers started becoming less intense, and less reliable. By 2224, they were in the middle of their second orbital pattern in the 70 Ophiuchi system, and people were beginning to feel like they ought to be setting off for a new home. Perhaps another star system would be kinder to them, or maybe it was best to just not be orbiting a host star at all, and survive on what temporal manipulation abilities they still had left. Unfortunately, this was proving to be nearly, if not completely, impossible. Even collectively, the Durune were not strong enough to alter the planet’s pattern. It was one thing to stay as they were, but to try to move off in some other direction just wasn’t in the cards for them anymore. They tried to contact someone from the past to help, but their powers weren’t strong enough for that either. Something had to be done to drastically change everything about their lives, and they would vote for these contingencies during the 2225 round of elections. The experts writing up these proposals needed time to work on them anyway. Until then, a worldwide mandate went out, limiting people’s ability to manipulate time and space. Teleportation would be used only in emergencies, spatial locks were replaced with regular physical locks, speed school and other time bubbles were outright banned. All temporal energy had to be conserved, in order to have enough to maintain their world’s homeostasis. If they flew back off into interstellar space now, they wouldn’t be able to protect themselves against cosmic radiation, and the vacuum. For some, that didn’t matter anymore, because there was one essential time power that stopped working, even without the government dictating it. Based on one case, it would seem that they were no longer ageless.

Agelessness was a right that every citizen of Durus enjoyed, whether they were rich, poor, smart, or not so smart. It didn’t matter whether they contributed positively to society, or not. If they were alive, they deserved to stay alive forever. By whatever interference the Ophiuchi stars were giving off, people started aging again, and this all came to its inevitable conclusion when one of their older immortals passed away from age-related diseases. Of course, no time power was capable of eradicating a disease—congenital, or otherwise—but their youth made it a lot easier to treat just about anything without worrying about old age making them more susceptible. Now that that was gone, nothing was stopping the Durune from being wiped out. Almost literally everyone attended the first funeral in decades. The only people not there had to maintain everyone’s survival in some way. It was a frightening day more than a sad one. This wasn’t to say that no one cared about this individual, or that no one was in mourning, but it was becoming clear that everyone was doomed. If death was back on the table, their whole society could collapse. If they wanted to survive, physically as well as socially, they were going to have to change a lot more about themselves than they ever thought they would, and they would have to do it very soon. While the right people were working on a way out of this mess, others were making laws and policies to adapt to the ever-changing present, and to prepare for every eventuality conceivable. Through this, things continued to get worse, but the Durune continued to endure at pace. It was going to take a lot more than a little wrinkly skin to get them down. Unfortunately, fate did indeed have more in store for them, and their success was not assured.

Microstory 1489: Solar Democracy

< > Table of Contents

Here was the end of the second Democratic Republic, and the beginning of the Solar Democratic Republic. What was the difference? Well, while a lot of things were different than before, and a lot more was deliberately changed to fit the theme, it wasn’t any more or less democratic than it was before. Of course, laws and policies were constantly changing, so it could not technically be said that the government was the same today as it was four decades ago, but that could be said for any organized region. In 2204, the rogue world of Durus finally stopped being rogue, after the however many hundreds of millions of years it likely spent wandering the interstellar void. It was now orbiting the 70 Ophiuchi binary star system, and though its orbit was artificially generated using powers and technology, they finally had a home. The Durune felt safe, independent, and empowered. They no longer relied on unwitting aid from Earth, but were taking care of themselves using all the resources they had at their disposal. No one could be sure who came up with the idea first, but it sparked at some point before arrival day, and the people voted on it during the 2205 elections. Changing the name of their government was more of a symbolic gesture than anything, but that didn’t mean it was stupid, or pointless. There was no doubt that this was the dawn of a new era; just as dramatic as the shift from the Adhocracy to the Mage Protectorate, or phallocratic Republic to the Provisional Government. They had to acknowledge that things were a lot different now, not simply because they believed they were, but because society was adapting to its new environment. Laws had to be passed to account for their new star system. These were not controversial, or even more progressive, but they did need to decide on them if they were going to survive the first full orbit, which would take years to complete. They changed other things about their government too, like renaming the head of state Luminator Prime, and having officials dress up in special clothing that apported photons of light from the center of their new suns. It was symbolic, but still important. Some were worried that it was doomed to be short-lived. They read a lot more into the symbolism, but suggesting the phrase itself was as if bookending their journey. Solocracy, they argued, could be considered a combination of the words Solar and Democracy. Obviously that had nothing to do with it, and it was merely a linguistic coincidence. Unfortunately, those people turned out to be right, in a way. The Solar Democracy did not last forever, or at least its defining characteristic didn’t. The people of Durus did not know this, however, as laws had been passed overtime which regulated what secrets seers were allowed to reveal, and which they were not. For now, they celebrated, because it took a lot of work, but they came together to get this done, and nothing would have happened without this sense of unity.

Microstory 1482: President From Earth

< > Table of Contents

Things were pretty bad after the Deathspring sent a bunch of people from Earth to Durus. The Durune didn’t want them there, and the Earthans didn’t want to be there. Two seemingly contradictory things were happening at the same time, which sort of fed into each other. Durus was trying to get rid of all the misogynistic laws of the past, and become a more just society, but they were struggling to accomplish that with all these refugees here. So they treated those refugees poorly, and didn’t really give them that much thought. They tucked them away in isolated camps, and got to work on rebuilding their government from the ground up. It was years before they started listening to the people who were trying to explain to them that the Earthans would be able to help them do that. After all, they had just come from a world of equality and fairness, so maybe they had a few pointers? Well, it took some time, and a military state, but society eventually figured it out. Some of the Earthans went back home with the Elizabeth Warren interstellar ship, along with a few Durune who wanted to start new lives, but for everyone left, there didn’t appear to be much chance of further rescue, so the best thing to do for the Earthans was to dig in, and get used to the here and now, instead of dwelling on what might have been. That got easier over the course of the next two decades as policy adapted to the diverse population. One major thing to further this philosophy came in 2185, when the first person to have been born on Earth was elected as president of the Democratic Republic of Durus. They were long past the elitism and bigotry that formed in 2161, but it was still a huge step for the original Durune. On the other side, the Earthans had mostly accepted this as their new home, and that was impressive as well. Everyone was a native now. As for the new president himself, things were a little rough. Earth had moved so far beyond a standard representative democracy by then that he had some trouble understanding that Durus was not technologically advanced enough for a comparable system. He had to make a lot of mistakes, and reach some compromises, and he only lasted one term, but it was a decent start.

Microstory 1480: The Serpent and the Bear

< > Table of Contents

Ever since Durus avoided a collision with Earth by a hair, scientists had been trying to figure out where they were going. There wasn’t any particular reason for this. They could alter their speed using time powers, but altering direction was an entirely different matter, and could lead to disastrous results. Calculating the exact vector of the planet’s journey through interstellar space was quite difficult, what with its random accelerations and decelerations, and the lack of proper equipment. It wasn’t until 2183 when they were sure they knew where they were headed. If they continued on their present course—which they expected to—they would eventually encounter a binary star system that the Earthans called 70 Ophiuchi. While the speed they were traveling was constantly going up and down, the average was pretty steady, so barring any dramatic change, it would take them over a hundred years to arrive. Now, there was nothing wrong with waiting this long. Not only did they still have the connection with Earth that kept them alive, but the close encounter seemed to have made it stronger. The borrowed sun was shining, there was now more than one source of water, plantlife was spreading at an alarming rate. Perhaps all of this was exactly what drove the people of Durus to want to break free from their mother world’s protection and support. They wanted to go off on their own, orbit their own sun, and provide for themselves. It was what they were supposed to do. This was going to be the largest endeavor they had ever tried, and if they wanted to do it faster, it was going to be even more difficult. Not only did it give them far less time to prepare, but they were going to push the speed of the planet faster than it had ever gone before. They were already traveling at relativistic speeds, so time was passing faster for anyone outside of the planet, but the disparity was going to grow so large. If they went through with this, they would reach their destination by 2200.

Of course, the first thing they needed to do was to make sure the majority of Durus was on board with this. There was no election coming up, but they wanted to decide on it quickly, because the longer they waited, the faster they would have to accelerate the planet in order to make their timetable. Well, things didn’t go according to plan. People were not happy about being forced to respond to the question quickly, without any real discussion, or time to gather all of the evidence. Plenty of people were against the idea, and if the proponents wanted to convince them, it was going to take time. They still had two years left until the next election, so they were just going to have to be patient with this, and get it right. Like always, the people weren’t going to simply say yes, and leave it at that. There were questions about how they were going to accomplish their goals, and whether they needed to rethink those goals in the first place. After careful consideration, they realized that the 2200 deadline was not a viable option. As powerful as the paramounts were, and as durable as the rogue world had proven itself to be, they just could not handle such high speeds. The speed itself wasn’t a problem, but acceleration was a tricky thing. Any change in velocity would seriously throw off any normal planet’s stability. If the Earth were to start spinning or revolving just a tiny bit faster, or slower, it would cause mass destruction all over the world. It’s not the speed that kills you, but the changes in speed. The only thing allowing Durus to fluctuate this much was its unique relationship with time. Still, there were limits for how far this time magic could go, and by the time the vote went through, if it passed, and everything was set up, 2204 was a far more realistic goal. They did vote, and it did pass—with the necessary conditions and precautions—and Durus did reach 70 Ophiuchi in 2204.

The Advancement of Mateo Matic: Tuesday, May 2, 2056

« < » > Table of Contents

While still in 2053, the group took the AOC to Australia, where they encountered another person from an old timeline. Allen Tupper worked for a dark version of Horace Reaver, and did not enjoy a very happy life. It would seem Jupiter intended for him to stay in The Parallel, because he did not provide a transition window back to the main sequence. They decided to let him live on the ship while they jumped to the future, but this was a miscalculation, because the ship jumped right with them, bringing Allen along. Someone was waiting for them just outside which illuminated Jupiter’s logic, and gave further evidence that he was not as bad as he wanted others to believe.

Mateo hopped over, and gave Richard a bear hug. They didn’t know each other for too terribly long, but they weren’t simple passing acquaintances either. This was the Richard Parker, of the Life of Pi and Gulliver’s Travels tribulations.

“How did I get here?” Richard asked.

“What’s the last thing you remember?” Mateo asked him.

“We were pushing the Rogue into the magic mirror. Reaver was helping us. But I got pulled through too. Then I saw a bright light, thought I was gonna die, but opened my eyes here. Well, it wasn’t exactly here. I was still on Easter Island, but it’s very different now. Some cops showed up, and brought me here to Australia.”

Mateo smiled, and stepped to the side. “I believe you’re here for him.” He gestured towards his soulmate. “Richard Parker, this is Allen Tupper. You’re meant to be together in every timeline.”

They approached each other cautiously, and shook hands. While Mateo knew these two were destined for each other, that didn’t mean something magical would spark between them, and form an unbreakable bond instantaneously. Developing a relationship would take time, assuming they even chose to try. This was not how normal people met each other, and that might be enough to prevent things from progressing. That was sad, but at least Richard survived the fateful day that Gilbert pulled him to his death. The question now was what they were going to do with their second chance.

Leona stepped forward, and looked at her cuff. “A transition window is coming from Bend, Oregon. I don’t know if it’s ingress, or egress, or if they’re two-way, or what. If you want to try to get back to the main sequence, that’s your first chance. There may be a second. I don’t know. I don’t even know which timeline you’ll end up in. We just don’t have enough information.”

Richard nodded, and politely asked, “what information do you have? The people here haven’t told me much, like it was all a big secret. This looks like my world, but it’s clearly not.”

“Yes, it does,” J.B. agreed. “If it’s as God-Ramses said, and the whole galaxy has been conquered, why does this look so much like the mid-twenty-first century in a regular timeline?”

“Oh, that’s right,” Leona said, “you weren’t there for that conversation. Holly Blue and I did manage to get someone here to talk. They have technology in this reality that’s more advanced than we’ve ever seen, but Earth is different. It’s like a sanctuary for people who want to live semi-normally. They’re still immortal, but they don’t teleport, and they don’t extract all of their energy from the sun with a Dyson swarm. They run on basic fusion reactors, and lead relatively simple lives. They don’t hate technology; they just don’t need it. This is not the only world like that, but it’s the world we’re gonna stay on for awhile, because the transitions will be letting out here until people in the main sequence start their own interstellar colonization process.”

“The point is,” Holly Blue jumped in, “Richard and Allen, you can either stay in this reality, or risk trying to go back. Based on what we know of your personal histories, there should be no reason you have to go back. You have both already done everything we know you do there. It just depends on what you want.”

“Is Horace Reaver in this reality?” Allen questioned.

“He may come through a later transition,” Leona answered, “but it will have to be a nice version of him. The one you know—the one who caused so much grief—died last year in an old timeline. There is no version of him living in the Parallel, however. There are no duplicates here. History is too wildly different to let anyone you know be born again.”

Sanaa wanted to put in her two cents, “you will have to start brand new lives. All of your financial debt has been wiped clean, and you won’t have to help your proverbial neighbor move, but you’ll also never find out how your favorite TV series ends, or see your families again.”

Richard and Allen looked at each other with the same unfamiliarity.

“To add more,” Sanaa continued, “it’s like Holly Blue said. History in the main sequence timelines thinks you’re done. Richard, you died, and Allen, you just sort...faded away into obscurity. I’m thinking now that’s not because you weren’t important, but because you came here. I can’t tell you what to do, but I’m pretty sure you’re supposed to stay here.”

“I don’t have any more family,” Allen said.

“I’m dead,” Richard gave his own answer in the same tone.

“You people are going to the future, though?” Allen asked.

“We have to,” Mateo replied. “You don’t. Just don’t be on this ship when midnight central hits, and you’ll be left behind.”

“If we do that,” Richard began, “if we stay here, when would our next chance to change our minds be. Theoretically.”

Mateo looked to Leona, who responded with, “twenty-two years. It’s our biggest jump yet, and I believe our maximum. I have not yet done all the math.”

Richard and Allen both nodded.

“I might as well stay.”

“Yeah, same.”

“All right.” Holly Blue clapped her hands. “We have to get to Bend. Do you want to come with, or stay in Australia, or go somewhere else. Literally anywhere in the galaxy is accessible.”

“Here’s fine for me,” Allen decided.

“Same,” Richard agreed.

“Good luck, boys,” Leona said.

Mateo gave his friend one last hug, and then boarded the AOC, never to see him again. Hopefully things would be better here.

“Has anyone ever been here before?” J.B. asked. “Who might be coming through the window?”

“I don’t know who would be doing it in 2056,” Holly Blue started to say, “but this was where my son trained with Darko.”

“Why did he come to Bend from Kansas City?” Mateo asked. “My once-brother was a time traveler, who could have met you anywhere.”

“Yes,” Holly blue concurred, “but Darko felt his students would be better off learning together, rather than one-on-one, and it saved him time. Bozhena and her family didn’t know anything about time travel back then, so we jumped here for his classes. Again, that was back at the start of the 21st century. That’s the only connection I know of. Perhaps some random Horvatinčic descendant we don’t know is coming, or someone else entirely.”

Images from the main sequence began to flicker around them. Mateo lifted his cuff to get a better look at it through the augmented reality feature. “Somehow I doubt that’s the case. Nothing is random when it comes to Jupiter Fury.”

The flickering stopped, leaving a young girl standing before them, holding a boomerang. How Australian of her. She was frightened of them, but not crying.

“Hey,” Sanaa said, approaching the girl slowly. “It’s okay. We’re not gonna hurt you.”

“Where am I?” the girl asked.

“Have you ever heard of time travel before?”

“Like Minutemen?”

Mateo perked up. “That’s a kids movie. I think I saw it, even though I was kind of old. Yes, like that. What year is it?”

“It should be 2008.

“That’s weird,” Leona said. “She should have come from 2056. What’s the last thing you remember?”

“I followed my teacher, even though he told me not to. I can never find him when he’s not training us. I can’t ever find Declan either. I just wanted to know where they went every day. They separated, so I chose to follow Mr. Matic. I saw him pick up this boomerang, and then he disappeared.”

“Hmm.” This was obviously Young!Bozhena, but where was Darko? “You saw him disappear in front of you, but you weren’t touching him?” Holly Blue asked her.

“No,” Bozhena said. “He was, like, a swimming pool away.”

What the hell? “Then you picked up the boomerang, and it brought you here?” Leona continued the interview.

“Yeah.” Bozhena turned it over in her hands. “It’s some sort of time device.” That was not how it worked. The object itself could not control time. Darko just used it to slide up and down its history. This should not have worked. At all.

“Where was your teacher when you jumped to the future?”

Bozhena shrugged. “I dunno. I looked around for a few minutes. Then I ended up here. How do I go back home?”

Mateo shook his head. “If Darko’s gone, there’s no telling where he went. The other side of the window could be his home, or just a waypoint. He may never return. How do we get her back to the main sequence in 2008?”

“Aren’t these people time travelers?” J.B. offered.

“Backwards travel is illegal,” Sanaa reminded him.

“They should be able to make an exception for us,” J.B. figured.

“That would be nice,” Sanaa agreed. “Can your ship do it?”

“No,” Leona replied. “It’s not built for that either. It can’t even jump to the stars as fast as these people can. It still takes days to get anywhere.”

Mateo looked at his cuff. “I don’t see a window coming up.”

“There has to be a way to get her back,” Holly Blue pointed out. “Bozhena Horvatinčic goes on to have a very adventurous life. She is extremely vital to the timeline; more than most people could hope to achieve. And we have to make sure she gets back to where she belongs. We can’t just throw her in a window, and hope someone on the other side finds her.”

“Nobody’s throwing me through a window,” Bozhena said precociously.

“It’s just a metaphor,” Holly Blue clarified. “It’s what we call the portals we use to travel through time.” That wasn’t entirely the truth, but it wasn’t totally wrong either, and it was good enough as an explanation.

“I may have a solution,” Leona said, “but you’re not gonna like it.”

“Tell me,” Holly Blue demanded.

“Sanaa, could you please stay out here with Bozhena?”

“Gladly,” Sanaa said. She smiled at Bozhena. “What do kids your age like to do, Bo? Do you still play peek-a-boo?”

“How do you people know my name?”

The rest of the group climbed back into the AOC. Leona was adamant that they close the outer hatch behind them, as well as the airlock, and then climb all the way down to the engineering level, closing all hatches between them and the outside.

“I think I know what this is,” Holly Blue determined because of all those hatches. “You’re gonna try to get someone’s Cassidy cuffs off, but you don’t want them flying off and attaching themselves to poor Young!Slipstream’s wrists.”

“Not just anyone,” Leona revealed. “She needs a time traveler, and only one of us here is capable of that.”

“I would have to invent something,” Holly Blue argued. “It doesn’t matter a whole lot that I’ve already done it before. I kind of have to start from scratch every time. Recall that I’m not a real scientist.”

“Again, you’re the only one who can do it. When you removed your son’s cuffs, we discovered that they just wrapped themselves around someone new in response.” Leona lifted both her arms, and shook them around. “If I’m the one who tries to remove them, then it doesn’t really matter, does it?”

“Maybe they’ll just reattach themselves to me,” Holly Blue guessed. “I would be the only choice, and perhaps Jupiter programmed them to never be without a host.”

“That’s not what happened when Ramses lost his,” Mateo reminded her. Sanaa had to pick them up on purpose. I think they can just be paperweights.”

Holly Blue wasn’t going to stop arguing. “How do we even know there’s going to be a transition window in 2008?”

“We don’t,” Leona said as she was reaching into her bag. “It’s irrelevant if you’re a time traveler, though.” She lifted the HG Goggles out of her bag. “This can help you find one. I have some ideas where you could look; ones that we didn’t use.”

Holly Blue didn’t want to agree to this plan, but she never wanted to be part of this pattern either, so they finally convinced her to stay behind, and get little Bozhena back to where she should be. She even thought she could erase her memories of the day, because she wasn’t destined to learn about this stuff until she was older. They said their goodbyes, and went their separate ways. The group would never know how well it went, or even if the plan worked at all. They would just have to have faith.

« < » > Table of Contents