Microstory 2485: Passage of Rites

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They call this an antimetabole, with the name referring to the physical space where rites are performed, as opposed to the original phrase, which involves a more metaphorical passage from one state of being to another. A rite of passage is a ceremony—or a more abstract transitional period—that marks some change in a person’s life, often when they are still young. In some cases, it’s specifically meant to mark someone’s development from youth to adulthood. Bar Mitsvahs, Quinceñeras, and Sweet Sixteens are all about this concept, and come at the age when that culture believes an individual sufficiently matures. It doesn’t have to be based on a particular age, or there might be some leeway. For instance, our ancestors used to have to wait to learn how to drive land vehicles, and once they did learn this skill, it came with a sense of independence that they usually did not feel before. It often happened at a certain age, but it didn’t have to, and some people never learned. Different people have different ideas about what someone needs to experience in their life before they can be respected in some form or another. Some have believed that you weren’t a man, for instance, until you participated in a physically violent altercation. Others thought you really only needed to learn how to hunt game, or go on some kind of lone journey in the wilderness. Some rites of passage are a very specific set of rituals which offer symbolic practices to represent the transition. They might be asked to drink a bitter drink to symbolize the harsh realities of life, then receive a sweet candy to exemplify the reward of a life well lived. Some of them their participants prepared their whole lives for. A lot of the rites of passage shown here have been lost to time as the culture who practiced them forgot, or had newer generations who began to see less value in maintaining them. There’s a relatively new tradition on Thālith al Naʽāmāt Bida where the current permanent residents gift each of their younglings a stone every year of their lives. They are expected to hold onto their collection between the ages of six and seventeen, even as it grows, until their seventeenth birthday, when they throw all of them over a cliff. These stones represent the care and attention the child needed as they were growing up. The weight of them collectively represents the burden they placed on their families. Ridding themselves of their collections represents the second stage in their life, when they are now expected to fend for themselves—to collect their own proverbial stones. That rite of passage is here too, reenacted by visitors, so they can physically feel the meaning behind the traditions. Other rites are performed exclusively by androids, such as the human sacrifices, which thankfully, no culture today has continued to observe. As I was saying about the birthday observances, there’s a lot of fun here, and you can come just to party. But I hope you do venture out to the other areas, and see some of the more somber and profound events. You can learn about any of these things in the archives, but there’s nothing quite like seeing it up close for yourself. I’ve learned a lot here already, even though I’m an archaeologist, and I’m sure you will too.

The Advancement of Mateo Matic: July 29, 2511

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At the end of the day, despite the fact that he was in a computer simulation, Mateo jumped forward a year. By the time his IDcode returned to the circuits or whatever, Brian Hiddy had gone off to see what Fort Underhill was all about, and Cecelia Massey was training to be a counselor. Mateo told them that he would be disappearing, but Keilix didn’t really believe it, because it didn’t fall into the category of standard behavior for the program. But that was how Tamerlane Pryce wanted it when he agreed to resurrect Mateo, and even though the latter had since moved on to a new substrate in the physical realm, the rule remained. He only lived for one day every year, and only a few things could alter that pattern.

“Well, what happens when you move on to the other universe?” Cecelia asked. “Does it stop then?” Obviously, during the interim year, she was able to get past the five stages of grief, and come into her own in this new world. She was more relaxed, more self-confident, and there was just a sparkle in her eyes. Though, to be fair, that could have been an avatar modification. There were no limits here. She could make herself look like a cross between a rabbit and a dog if she so desired.

“No, I stay on my pattern,” Mateo explained. “It doesn’t matter what kind of body I end up with. It’s how my brain is wired. You rewire it, my pattern might go away, but then I’m not me anymore.”

“Your brain rewires itself constantly,” Keilix reasoned. “You might be able to grow out of it one day.”

“I’m sure Pryce thought of that in his design. It’s not like I want to anyway. My friends are still on this pattern, and if I were to get off of it, I would be waiting for them for tens of thousands of years, and that’s assuming they live a normal human life span.”

“But you say you’ve not only been to the afterlife simulation,” Cece began, “but you also visited Ford Underhill afterwards.”

“Briefly.”

“So your friends can just find you there. This Hogarth woman might even let you leave, and go right back to them. You said you were friends with her too, right?”

“More like a family friend.” Mateo shrugged.

“It sounds like your best option is to resurrect a second time,” Keilix decided. “You’ll be in a different reality, but at least it’s at base level.”

“That’s true,” Mateo admitted. He lifted his chin and breathed in that crisp, digital air. “Well, tell me what to do.”

Keilix smiled. “Cece, why don’t you handle this one on your own?”

“Really?”

“He’s a pro. It’ll be a good, safe practice.”

“Thank you.” Cecelia was grateful.

“Is it unsafe?” Mateo asked after saying goodbye to Keilix.

“It’s not, like, physically unsafe,” Cece began to explain. “It’s just a delicate process. Your mind doesn’t get downloaded into a body the way it would in the living world. We can’t just plug your IDCode to the right port. It’ll make more sense when we get to the lake, but you have to be sure that this is what you want. You have to will yourself over to the other side.”

“Ah. The prebiotic lake needs to know who you are, and what you want.”

She laughed. “She’s right, you’re a pro.

He was less of a pro, and more of a good listener. He never went to this magical lake before, but Lowell talked about it the last time they saw each other.

They continued to walk in silence. This was a journey, and a profound one at that, so the program didn’t involve simply teleporting to their point of egress, even though that would be easy to implement. Of course, Mateo didn’t need this experience—it wouldn’t be the first time he came back to life—but Cece needed the practice as a transition facilitator. It was important that he let her do this the right way.

They arrived at the lake. It was totally open, but apparently protected by an invisible force field. Or really, it was just that not everyone could pass through. It was all just code. “Hey, Sir Bro,” Cecelia casually said to an old man as they passed by.

Sir Bro was trying to break into the lake area, but that programming was holding him back every time. He just kept banging his shoulder against it, and punching it, but it was unclear whether he was feeling any pain, or what.

Mateo and Cecelia simply passed right through. “I thought the lake would take anyone who wanted to go. He looks ready to me.”

Cecelia shook her head. “You don’t need to whisper. It doesn’t matter what he hears. To answer your question, the lake is not the problem. He’s been banned from Fort Underhill. The color-coded levels you may recall from your first time here are defunct, but some people have more privileges than others.”

“Wait.” Mateo stopped. He looked back up the slight incline where the old man was still trying to force his way in. “Surely Sir Bro is not his real name.”

Cece giggled. “No, that’s just what he wants us to call him. I can’t remember what it was, though. It was something stupid, like Broken...or Braydeck.”

“Bronach?” Mateo questioned.

“Yeah, that’s it! Do you know him too?”

Mateo sighed. “Unfortunately.” He huffed and reluctantly headed back up the trail. “Can you hear me?”

“Of course I can, Mister Matic,” The Oaksent replied.

“Are you old, or do you just look old?”

“I’ve always been old.”

“How did you end up in this time period? You’re still alive, out there in the Goldilocks Corridor, as far as I know.”

“That is a quantum duplicate of me,” Bronach explained. “A piss-poor approximation, if you ask me, in fact.”

“What happens if you get through this obviously 100% impenetrable barrier, and get back there? Will you and your other self have words? Or worse?”

“He knows that I am the rightful heir to the empire. He’ll step down.”

Mateo looked over his shoulder at Cece, who didn’t know what to make of this interaction. “Goddammit,” he uttered as he was turning back around. He reached through the barrier, took Old!Bronach by the elbow, and pulled him through. “You owe me everything for this.”

“How did you do that?” Cece asked, stunned. “People have actually tried. They did exactly what you just did, but couldn’t make it work.”

“Being exempt from the rules that everyone else has to follow is sort of my thing.” Mateo continued to hold onto Bronach as he was dragging him towards the edgewater. “Do we have to take our clothes off, or something!” he shouted as they were stepping in.

“You’re not wearing any clothes!” Cece yelled back. That was technically true.

Mateo turned himself and Bronach around. “What do we do now!”

She stepped down closer so they wouldn’t have to yell anymore. “Wade out until the water reaches your chin, then just start to float. Whenever you’re ready...”

“Thanks, Cece,” Mateo replied. “And tell Keilix that I’m going to try to get a message back here with a little bit more info on what it’s like on the other side.”

“That’s very kind of you. We’ll be waiting,” she said with a smile.

“We’ve been waiting too long,” Leona said.

“Just be patient,” Romana replied. Since yesterday, the two of them had kind of flipped their reactions to this situation, with Leona growing ever anxious, and Romana becoming calmer.

“If she’s a pathfinder—which I had never heard of—shouldn’t our paths have crossed as soon as we got to this universe? Shouldn’t she have pretty much been waiting for us?”

“If you hadn’t heard of them before,” Romana began to reason, “how do you know how they operate?”

“They sound a whole lot like seers to me, and guiding people to the right place at the right time is their whole function in our society.”

“Perhaps it’s the right place, but not the right time,” Angela determined.

It was a long journey to get here, but it wasn’t too complicated. For the Rock diplomatic discussions on the Vellani Ambassador, General Bariq Medley and Judy Schmidt represented the copy of the main sequence that ended up in the Sixth Key. Due to some events that no one on Team Matic had any details on, Bariq and Judy ended up fostering two extremely powerful temporal manipulators. These children grew up, and evidently solved the resource distribution problem in their galaxy by creating a brand new universe. It was here that they could spread out, and not worry about who was going to get what. This was where Leona, Romana, and Angela were now, having crossed over through an transuniversal aperture conduit that was as well organized as the border between two countries. They didn’t travel to any place in particular, upon the advisement of Romana, who said wherever they went, the pathfinder would find them. She was very confident about this, even though this pathfinder probably couldn’t be in two places at once, and there were likely plenty of others who needed her assistance.

So now they were just waiting, unsure if anything was going to go their way, or if they were wasting time that could be used to find Mateo by other means. They were alone in this lounge, so whenever anyone happened to walk by, they would perk up their ears, and hope to see someone who could help. This time, it was a small group of men, so they slumped back in the couch. “Hey. Angela. Angela Walton?”

“Yeah. Do I know you?”

“It’s Pável!” the man said. “Pável Románov?”

“Oh, Pasha!” Angela said, standing up. They gave each other a familiar, but not overly affectionate, hug.

“This woman,” Pável said, looking back at Leona and Romana, as well as his own friends. “She saved my life. She did it after I was dead!”

“Oh, it wasn’t all that,” Angela insisted.

“No, it was everything. I heard you became a counselor.”

“Yeah.”

“Yeah, I’m not surprised.” Pável responded. “Before it was her actual job to help people, she would volunteer to visit orange hockers in an attempt to rehabilitate them. I tell you, before I met Angie, I was a violent tyrant. It would not be an exaggeration to say that I was sick in the head. My insane policies ultimately culminated in my assassination, after which I basically found myself in hell. I was locked up in a prison. We didn’t really understand computer simulations back then, but there was literally no escape. But she came to me, and got me out of it. She fixed me. And by the time the afterlife realm was taken down, I was a Level Six Plus Indigo.” He straightened up a bit, and stood there proudly. “I’m living proof that people can change, but I couldn’t have done it without her.”

“It’s nice to hear that, and it’s nice to see you again,” Angela told him.

“What are you doing here in The Eighth Choice?” Pável asked.

“We’re looking for a friend,” Angela answered. “What are you doing here? It’s pretty far from Fort Underhill.”

Pável smiled, prouder still. “The leadership from both universes are developing an immigration program. One day, people will be allowed to move freely through the conduits, and even establish permanent residency on the other side from where they were. I have familiarized myself with the design of the matrioshka bodies over here, and give tours as a sort of liaison.”

“That’s very interesting,” Angela said. “I’m happy for you.”

“Thank you.” Pável looked back at his tourists. “Listen, I better get back to it, but here’s my quantum identifier. Call me if you’re ever in the neighborhood.” He beamed his contact information from his wristband to Angela’s EmergentSuit. She beamed hers back. “It was great seeing you again.”

“Yeah, same,” she said as he was walking away. “I probably haven’t seen that guy in over 300 years,” she added after he was out of earshot.

“I think you and Marie need to tell us more about your afterlife,” Leona decided. “You must have so many stories.”

“I have a few,” Angela acknowledged.

Just then, a woman came around the same corner Pável had. “All right. I’m ready to go now.”

“Are you the pathfinder?” Leona asked.

“Yes, she is,” Romana said. Now it was her turn to hug. “Leona, Angela. This is Jessie Falstaff. She’s our pathfinder.”

“Oh, it’s nice to meet you,” Leona said. “Did you wait to come here so Angela could run into her old friend first?” She gestured in the direction of where Pável ran off to.

Jessie looked over in that direction on reflex. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. Pathfinders aren’t seers. We don’t see what’s going to happen. We more just feel it. My gut told me to be here at this moment. If you lucked into having an encounter before then, I’m guessing that’s why I waited, but that’s not something I could have known. I don’t even know why I’m here now.”

“My husband—her father—is missing. His name is Mateo Matic.”

Jessie had been all right before—comfortable, and ready to help—but now her face sunk. She frowned, and looked down towards the floor. She also reached for her torso as if experiencing stomach cramps. “Oh,” she said in a breathy, strained voice.

“Oh, what?”

The look of horror on Jessie’s face only grew. “I think he’s dead.”

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Microstory 2461: 10,000 Emerald Pools

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This, to the best of my knowledge, is based on a song, which in turn, is based on a physical address from a city called Las Vegas, on Earth before the Great Rewilding of the 21st and 22nd centuries. From what I gather, the song is about love, but it’s open to your interpretation. Castlebourne’s interpretation is quite literal. There are actually 10,000 Emerald pools dotting the landscape on the surface under this dome. Though don’t expect to ever see all of them from above, or even a handful of them. That’s not how it works. This is classified as a Leisure Dome, but it’s also sort of Residential, because there’s no time limit. If you wanna stay in your pit for the rest of time, it doesn’t sound like anyone’s ever going to kick you out. This is a very personal experience, which the prospectus doesn’t go into, so there’s a chance that my review will be autorejected for revealing too much information about it, but this is what happened to me, so I feel like I have the right to detail it. When I first went in, they asked me the standard questions about what kind of person I am. How organic am I? Do I have a heart condition? Do I require electrical charge? That sort of stuff. They needed to know if I needed hygiene facilities, or a bed to sleep in. They also asked me some psychological questions, such as how my mood is, how easily it shifts, and how much human contact I feel like I need. It’s a personal journey. When I woke up in my hallway, I had to pass through a plasma barrier tailored specifically to my DNA. I would not have been able to bring anyone with me, nor break into anyone else’s domain. But more on that later. After the questions were done, they processed the data, and assigned a pool to me. They didn’t give me a name or number for it, nor tell me where in the dome I would be going. It could have been clear on the other side, right by the entrance, or somewhere near the center. I just don’t know, because they had me take a sedative before I was allowed to continue. Don’t think you can get around this if you have any cybernetic upgrades, or something. They also have technosedatives. That’s why they needed to know my substrate specifications. Like I said, I woke up in a hallway. On one end was a metal door that said EXIT. A sign underneath informed me that I could leave at any time, but I would never be allowed back into any of the pits. That’s right, it is a one time experience, full stop. I’ll never be able to go back. It’s kind of sad, but beautiful, really. As soon as I walked through the plasma barrier, I was stripped naked. They didn’t tell me that part either. But I was happy, because this was a special gift. I walked through the wooden door, and into my pit. Before me on the ground was exactly what I was promised: an emerald pool of water. Flush with the grass was concrete coping, and the pool itself was lined with smooth concrete. All around me were trees and open spaces, but nothing else. I waded in the water for about two hours before I even thought about exploring. I walked less than 400 meters, up the incline of the pit, before I ran into the ceiling. That’s right, the edge of the ceiling started at the edge of the rim of the pit. To visualize it, imagine a bowl with a clear lid fitted on the top of it. I walked all along the perimeter, sliding my hand along the ceiling above me. There was no escape. The only way out was the exit door on the other end of the original hallway. I went back to my emerald pool, and jumped in. I slept on the bottom of it that night, using my gills to breathe. I won’t tell you what I thought about while I was there, because as I’ve been saying, it was very personal, but I’ll say that it was rewarding. The next day, I reopened the wooden door, walked back down the hallway, though the plasma barrier, and left forever.

Microstory 2450: Stairway to Heaven

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Not to be confused with Heavendome. I’m callin’ it, this is the largest staircase in the entire universe. Some aliens eighteen billion light years away may have a large one of their own, but I doubt it beats this. The stairs go all along the perimeter of the dome, spiraling up from the surface until you reach the zenith, which I’ll talk about when we hit that point in the story. Let’s start with some stats. Each dome has an 83 kilometer diameter. Ignore topographical variations. A line from one end to the opposite end crossing through the exact center is 83 kilometers long. Since these domes are hemispheric, that means the distance from the surface to the top is 41.5 kilometers. Again, ignore varied topography, like mountains and valleys. If you were to climb a ladder from the bottom to the top, you would be climbing 41.5 kilometers. They’re considering including that as well for an even more extreme test of your mettle, but I can’t review eventualities. It’s important to note, though, because the spiral staircase is necessarily longer than the total vertical distance, due to the tread length of each staircase, and the length of the landings. There are 207,500 steps. Every 19th step is a landing, which gives you a little room to stand when you need a break. Some of these lead to pitstops, while others lead to full-on campgrounds for daily rest periods. If you can’t make it to the next campground, they’re not going to let you stay the night at a pitstop, so you best recognize your own physical abilities before you even take the first step. You will go on practice hikes before your trek—that’s what the surface is dedicated to—and this training program takes about as long as the climb, so expect to dedicate two months of your life to this adventure. There are no transhumanistic enhancements or cybernetic upgrades here. You’re given a traditional human body between 1.5 and 2.1 meters tall with average muscles. You do get to choose your height, and it can look like your residual self image, but don’t expect the superkidneys, or the unidirectional respiratory systems that you’re used to. I heard some complaints from people who didn’t understand the spirit of the hike. If you don’t want to work, take an elevator. But not here, the periodic exit elevators are only for people who had to quit in the middle. There’s no judgment from me, by the way. You make it more than 50 flights, and I’ll say you’ve accomplished something impressive. If you do make it the whole way, it probably took about a month, covering a few kilometers each day. That may not sound like much, but gravity hates you, and your fight with it will never end until you beat it...or it beats you. Some will do it faster, others slower. How you lived your life prior to this will impact your performance. When you get uploaded into the new substrate, you don’t just end up on equal footing with everyone else. If you were a mech before, you’re not gonna be used to the energy expenditure. If you were mostly biological, it should be easier to adapt to the new body. I met one climber who was born 24 years ago, and never received any meaningful upgrades. Guy did it in two weeks. He works out to stay fit, and pretty much always has. His experience was a major advantage. 10,922 flights for a total of 84.44 kilometers is a huge achievement whether it takes you that month, or double that, and it comes with a reward. It’s a party. Unlike other domes, there’s a nipple on the top, which is reached by your last flight. You stay as long as you want, talking to other climbers, comparing stories. Eat, drink, be merry. You’ve done something that few before you have, and few will probably try in the future. I think I’m gonna keep this body, keep working out, and see if I can do it faster next time. Good luck.

Microstory 2366: Earth, August 20, 2179

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Dear Corinthia,

Dad told me what he told you, that he was going to take a trip down memory lane, and try to find someone from our past who might have been involved with the research team that was studying me, the Earth twin. He’s actually pretty excited about it, which may not have come across in his letter to you. If you don’t want him to do it, I hope you don’t say anything, because he has other reasons. He’s always needed someone to blame, and while your mom was up there with you on Vacuus, it was easy for him to just be resentful to her. Now that she’s gone, he doesn’t want to speak ill of the dead, nor say anything bad about his daughter’s mother. You were only an idea before, but now you’re a real person, and he wants to respect the woman that he married and once loved...for you. This will be good for him if his little investigation leads to answers, but not so great if he comes up with nothing. Even a tiny sliver of knowledge that he didn’t have before would make it worthwhile, and allow him to stop and let the rest go. If all of his leads hit nothing but deadlines, and he learns nothing new, he’ll never be able to stop. I’ll never be able to convince him. I thought about trying to talk him out of it entirely, so he doesn’t get his hopes up, but that would turn out exactly how I was just saying: no answers, no closure. We have to let him go on this journey; honestly, even if it’s dangerous, which it could be. Right now, he has access to information from here, and he’s sending messages to other settlements. But there may come a day when he decides to venture out into the world, and try to find this guy in person. I don’t know what I’m gonna do then, if there’s anything to do. I’ll keep you updated as much as I can since he doesn’t want to send you another letter unless it’s good—or at least big—news. As far as the request for an open letter from me, I don’t hate the idea, but I wasn’t instantly enthusiastic when I first read your message. Still, I’ve put some thoughts down on paper, and I want your thoughts before we move forward. I’ve attached my first draft of the letter so you can tell me what you think about it—maybe proofread it, and scribble in some notes in the margins. Don’t show it to anyone yet, send it back, and then I’ll make my final decision. I’m still not sure. It’s not a bad idea, it just depends on whether we both think there’s anything worth saying to your friends and neighbors.

Loving this season of The Winfield Files,

Condor

PS: We’ve been talking for a year. Woohoo! Only 35 more to make up.

Microstory 2310: Whole World

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Welp, pretty much everything is out of this place. I’ve stuck all of Nick and Dutch’s possessions in temporary storage, along with a lot of my own stuff. I packed up the other rooms too, like the kitchen, to give the majority of it away. I’m only keeping a little bit for myself, like a couple of plates, a few forks, etc. Like I’ve said, I don’t need much, and I don’t need much space. The three of us actually struggled to furnish this oversized house when we first moved in. Now that I’m re-downsizing, I can go back to a simpler way of doing things. It’s surreal to be in this place now. It’s so empty and creepy; even worse than it was just last week. I’m going to snag a few nights at a hotel until my new place is ready for me to move in. Both the seller and I are highly motivated to expedite the process. We could finalize it by Monday. I told you yesterday that I won’t have a whole lot to say for these last few posts, and it would seem that I was totally right about that. I’ll try to come up with some memorable final words to say, but I am not a wordsmith, like Nick was, so don’t get your hopes up. Until next week, I would just like to thank you all for joining us on this journey. Every blog starts out with zero followers, but now you number in the hundreds of millions. That’s amazing. Thank you so much. It’s sad, how it ended, but at least we had a little time together, and I wouldn’t trade that in for the world. Nope, I’m not supposed to say that. Nick taught me to never say that. He put it in perspective for me. It’s the whole world. I would give up just about anything for it if I didn’t already own it anyway. Ha, I’m not sure I agree with that, but I can appreciate the sentiment. Have a good weekend.

The Advancement of Mateo Matic: June 16, 2468

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Mateo Matic came back into the world, and screamed. He screamed for a good two minutes while his memories of the past that were taken from him flooded back into his brain at once. They weren’t bad, per se, but the journey that his past self took with Carlin and Aclima was anything but pleasant. Once he arrived in Ferdiz, the locals welcomed him in, but were upset by his insistence on exiting immediately. He had come for the wrong reasons. They were there for enlightenment, and peace with one’s own past. He was there for his future, and that was not the point of the Pilgrimage. Still, he was apparently entitled to do whatever he wished with his life, as was Aclima, who chose to leave as well. Though she did not allow the timonite extracted from the ground to transport her elsewhere. She began the long walk back to the border of the desert. This, they were far more accepting of.

Obviously, Mateo did make it back to Earth in the Third Rail, memories not intact. He continued on with his life, trying to help his friends, and save the worlds. He had many more adventures, traveling to other realities, and other universes, eventually making his way all the way back here to close his loop. The timonite was what erased his memories in the first place to prevent a paradox, and now that such a thing was no longer a concern, he could have them back. He recounted his experiences with the group, as did Aclima, who had her own perspective, and was the only one who could tell them about her experiences alone.

Carlin chose to stay behind in Ferdiz. He understood the assignment, and Mateo and Aclima believed that finding peace in paradise was always his intention. The war efforts to which he contributed in Stoutverse were affecting him more than he let others realize. He spoke a little about it during the Pilgrimage, but Mateo and Aclima did not relate this information during their recap. Apparently, this was bound to happen one way or another. Members of Carlin’s family had an incidental history of leaving the group, and never seeing each other again. First Trina, then Alyssa, and now it was his turn. Moray would be all right without them. He had his own path to walk.

The Waycar was still here, and as he promised, Ramses stayed behind for a year to keep an eye on Cassius and the crew. They spent most of their days training for a war that would hopefully never come. Theirs was not a job of violence, but of protection, yet they wanted to be prepared in case they encountered opposition out there in the bulk. None of them knew for sure how the Ochivari would react to their interference in their plans. They didn’t cause trouble for the Verdemusians, so Ramses mostly worked in his lab on the Vellani Ambassador. It was here that he fabricated their own version of the quintessence consolidator and skeleton key, but he said it was even better. Now they no longer needed the Waycar’s help for anything. He wasn’t truly alone there, though. Over time, factions went their separate ways on this planet. They weren’t hostile towards each other, but trade negotiations were as tricky as they were necessary. Each micronation had control over at least one resource that the others needed. The Ambassador was a good, neutral location to hold these discussions. Ramses stayed out of it, though. He didn’t even serve as host. Everything was their responsibility.

Since he and the rest of the team would eventually have to leave, he built and deployed small reframe automators to the next star system over to gather raw materials to build them a new permanent diplomacy orbiting station. This way, everything they had for these purposes came from outside help, and no one could argue greater rights to any of it. Maybe it wouldn’t work. Maybe their conflicts would strengthen over time, and slowly erode the peace that they still enjoyed. But at least Ramses had done everything he could to help them. And that was kind of what they were out here doing, wasn’t it?

It was decided that both Team Matic and the Waycar would depart today, so in celebration of this, the locals proposed a joint dinner for all executive members in their new space station. The Alpha and Beta were there, as were the respective leaders of the nations. Cassius represented the Waycar along with Kineret and Hadron. Aclima had yet to officially accept the position of his Deputy Sentry, though she was here in that capacity. Also present were the four Staff Sergeants. They were eating and talking, and having a good time. Mateo was particularly interested in learning more about the timonite deposits, and how they came to be there. He was afraid to ask, though, so Leona did it for him during a break in the discourse.

“Well, we don’t actually know how it happened,” Focus Janda Wilden answered. He was the leader of one of the smallest micronations called Extrema. They were a group of scientists and researchers who were dedicating their lives to reestablishing a connection to Extremus. They were apparently cut off from it decades ago. Everyone in Extrema had their own title, which were all just terms that exemplified what a good scientist needed, like Reflection, Tenacity, and Curiosity. “This planet had to have unusual temporal properties from the very beginning, or what happened here would be happening everywhere. But at some point, presumably due to all the temporal manipulation that was going on during the early days of settlement, a grass evolved called timogramen. It was a precursor to the timonite that you are already familiar with. At first, the settlers used it for their own needs, to power some of their technologies. Understanding the conditions of it, among other factors, was actually required for using the Nexus that once stood here, as well as other time travel technologies and powers. 

“Over the years, the timogramen spread to become an invasive species. The more timogramen there was, the harder it was to do the simplest of things here, like teleporting. It was threatening to take over the whole world. So our ancestors gathered every last blade, and every last seed, and flew it to the Alhadabara Desert. They burned it. They burned it all up, thinking that they would be rid of it forever. But the ash seeped into the soil, and mineralized as it sunk deeper into the crust. At the same time, life sprung where once there was none. Thus, the Ferdiz, and the timonite veins below it.”

“Fascinating,” Mateo said. “And the timonite, do you use it in your research?”

“None of us has been able to make the journey across the Alhadabara,” Janda replied. “It sounds too hard. We’re intellectuals, so we’re not exactly built for it.”

“We would love a sample,” his right-hand man added, though they couldn’t recall his name. “It wouldn’t guarantee results, but studying it would certainly provide us some much-needed insight. Before Omega disappeared, he apparently cleared most of the central archives that were stored in various places in this system.”

Aclima reached into her bag that was hanging on her chair, and removed a fist-sized timonite stone. She set it on the table, and used her index finger to scoot it towards the Extremans.

“Where did you get that?” Leona questioned.

“The Ferdizites gave me one too,” Aclima answered. “I didn’t ask for it, but I think maybe they knew that someone here would need it. I’m guessing that they use the timonite at their disposal to see the future, or just to keep tabs on the rest of the world, and maybe beyond.”

“Hold on,” Alpha Merchant said, hovering his hand over the crystalline stone when Janda reached for it. “There are procedures here for this sort of thing. You can’t just take power, even when an external force gives it to you. We did not come here for diplomacy, so a discussion will have to be scheduled.”

“It’s a gift to us,” Janda contended. “There. Discussion over.”

“That is not how this works.”

“We are no threat to you,” Janda argued. “We are only a handful of self-sufficient people, and we do not rely on trade from others. We have not asked for anything since we asked to secede. We are entitled to this.”

“I will not have it,” Leif insisted. “We talk first. That is our way. If you disagree with my decision, you are welcome to challenge my position as Alpha.”

Janda shrunk into himself, implying that a challenge was as physical as it would be for a fictional werewolf pack, or something dumb like that.

Aclima picked the timonite back up. “I’m not giving it to Verdemus. I’m giving it to Janda. He may do with it as he wishes.”

“Please respect our customs, visitor.”

“You will show respect,” Alpha Vernon demanded, standing up. While Alpha Leif Merchant was in charge of the population of the whole planet besides Ferdiz, his claim to this right was in perpetual challenge by the leader of the second-largest nation of Vaskovia. This was why the leader of that nation also called himself an Alpha, and it led to a lot of tension between them on a personal level, as well as a diplomatic one. “Aclima of Ferdiz has made the Pilgrimage...twice. She is superior to all of us.”

“Not everyone sees it that way,” Alpha Merchant spits. “You may sit back down,” he said, as if it had been his decision for Vernon to stand in the first place.

Either way, Vernon was the loser of this argument. If he sat back down, he would be admitting his own subservience to Leif. But if he remained standing, he would stand out like a fool. He chose the latter.

Leif smirked. “He is wrong,” he said to Aclima. “You may take back the rock, if you like, but I cannot authorize a gift to an individual, or a single nation, of this magnitude. My rule over all is the only thing keeping us from the brink of war. You must understand that. And you must respect it...Aclima of Ferdiz.”

“She is not Aclima of Ferdiz,” Cassius said, also standing now. “She is Deputy Sentry for the Bulkverse Traveler Waycar. You will show respect to us, and our ways, or you will find yourself on the wrong end of an Ochivar wing. The stone goes to Mister Wilden. I have spoken.”

Leif seethed. “That rock is not going back down to my planet. I will not have it!”

“Fine,” Janda said. “Then we’ll move permanently to the moon of Jaunemus. That’s where the Nexus was. We were considering doing that anyway. But know this, Alpha...when we make contact with Extremus, we will be laying out the truth of what’s become of our government. We will not show you loyalty.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” Leif responded, digging into his position.

Aclima handed Janda the stone.

“Wonderful!” Ramses exclaimed. “That’s done. Let’s get back to the meal. I believe it’s time for dessert? Who wants sand cake?”

They continued to eat, and enjoy each other’s company, albeit with a few more awkward silences than before. The benefit of there being more than one micronation was that they could serve as buffers. It wasn’t just two polar opposites who had to get along with each other. They had things in common with a few others, who had things in common with each other, who had things in common with the other end of the spectrum. After it was over, and people started leaving, Aclima pulled Leona to the side. When Mateo started to follow, she didn’t ask him not to.

“What is it?” Leona asked.

“I’ve spent more time with Matt than anyone else here,” Aclima began. She looked over at him. “I told you and Carlin things that I’ve never told anyone. I don’t...feel anything for the Waycar.”

“I can see that,” Mateo acknowledged.

“Well, I was wondering...” Aclima started to say.

Leona smiled, which was enough to get Aclima to trail off. “You would be alone a lot of the time. There’s a reason that the six of us have stayed together for so long, and haven’t really added anyone else in the long-term. We bring people on sometimes, but they always leave, because they have to.”

“I can go into stasis during your interim periods,” Aclima offered. “It’ll be like I’m one of the gang.”

“We’ve tried that,” Mateo told her. “It’s not a good long-term solution either. Besides, I need you on the Waycar. With Carlin out of the running, we need someone there that we trust. Because we all know that we can’t trust Cassius. He’s not evil, but...”

“You can trust me? I’m a hybrid.”

“You’re a person,” Mateo clarified. “And like you were saying, we’ve been through a lot together. I remember it now. I know it’s gonna be tough, so what you should do is find someone else there; someone you can confide in. You’ll be able to see it in their eyes. They won’t be enamored with Cassius either, and you can bond from that.”

Leona opened one of her arm compartments, and took out a communication disc. “These don’t have unlimited range, but if you’re ever in the neighborhood again, you can talk to us. There are others on the network who aren’t on our pattern, so you can talk to them too. I’ll get you a directory.”

Aclima looked honored as she was accepting the disc. “Thank you.”

Mateo nodded, and then just decided to go in for the hug. Leona did not partake.

They said their goodbyes, and then joined in on all the other goodbyes. They made sure to stick around to watch the Waycar disappear before they launched the Vellani Ambassador into orbit. They didn’t know where they were going to go now but they would discuss it on their own, probably next year.

“I assumed we were returning to the Goldilocks Corridor,” Ramses said, confused. “We’re pretty close to it now. We’ll be there by tomorrow, even if we only use the reframe engine.”

“What would we use if not the reframe engine?” Leona questioned.

“What do you think I’ve been doing all year? And what do you think quintessence is? It’s a doorway to the whole universe. I can get us anywhere in spacetime near instantaneously now.”

“You can?” Leona was shocked.

Ramses smiled brightly. “Yeah. Wanna test it out?”

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The Advancement of Mateo Matic: June 15, 2467

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Putting their heads together, Leona and Ramses were able to fix the issue with the quintessence consolidator. The second test missile they deployed was no different than the first. It was just as intelligent and adaptive as the first, but it failed to penetrate the thick layer of dark matter that was now protecting Stoutverse. After a third test, they piloted the Waycar back through the barrier. The skeleton key allowed them to pass through, which satisfied both of their goals for this mission. They were now done with this brane, and could leave it behind to return to Salmonverse.

It wasn’t very far away, hyperdimensionally speaking, though calculating an entry point close to their exact destination was a different matter. Fortunately, they had Aclima on their side. She understood Maramon technology better than most due to the fact that she was genetically engineered for it, instead of just being born as a normal person. They broke through the membrane, and found themselves in cislunar space, almost running into a shuttle that was parked at the apparent Lagrange point one. After the near-miss, they entered a high orbit, and began to scan the surface. Before they had surveyed the whole thing, a voice made contact with them, and sent them the coordinates for a landing site. Cassius ordered the pilot to make the landing, and told her that she was in charge until he got back. He and Team Matic then exited the ship, and approached the Welcoming Committee.

“My name is Sentry Cassius Hoffman of the Interversal Defensive Ship Waycar, name subject to change. Are we on Verdemus?”

A man broke free from the line of locals. “This is indeed Verdemus. I’m Alpha Leif Merchant. This is Beta Uaiya Merchant. Yes, we’re married. No, there’s nothing in the Charter that says we can’t be.”

“Wasn’t gonna ask,” Cassius said.

Leona stepped forward. “I’m Captain Leona Matic of the Stateless Private Vessel Vellani Ambassador. Apologies for cutting the introductions short, but we came here on a mission of grave temporal importance. We’re searching for something called timonite, and have reason to believe that it’s here. From our perspective, we have already succeeded in procuring a piece. We need to close the loop.”

The Alpha and the Beta exchanged a look. “We know what you’re talking about, and we know where you may find it. Our ancestors accidentally created it, and the garden on top of it, over a century ago.”

“We’ll show you,” Uaiya said, “but you must promise to follow all of our rules and customs. You cannot merely take the timonite. It must be earned.”

“We agree,” Leona promised. “Sentry, why don’t you...go back to the ship?”

“That won’t be necessary,” Cassius argued.

“We appreciate the ride,” Leona told him. “You may go on to fulfill your mandate to the bulkverse. Thank you.”

“You can’t make me leave,” Cassius contended.

“But we can,” Leif said. “We study the Ambassador and Team Matic in school here. I don’t even know you.”

“You’re welcome,” Cassius said to Leona with an attitude. Everyone else was on Leona’s side but they all recognized that Cassius was an okay guy, and that he wasn’t the enemy. He just kind of rubbed people the wrong way, and he kind of did it immediately.

“Aclima, you’re not going back?”

“I will later,” Aclima replied. “He’s obviously not leaving yet. He knows that you’ll be gone at the end of the day, so he’ll have plenty of time to make his exit.”

Leona nodded in agreement. “Tell us about this garden,” she politely requested of Leif. “Was it man-made?”

“Yes, in the middle of the largest desert on the planet,” Leif started to say.

“Won’t be a problem for us,” Future!Mateo assured him.

“It will,” Leif insisted. “We asked you to follow our rules, and our rules say that you cannot teleport there, or even take a vehicle.”

“How do you get there then?” Past!Mateo asked.

“You walk.”

“How far is it?”

“Roughly 6,000 kilometers.

“That’s impossible,” Olimpia figured.

“It’s not. It just takes a long time,” Uaiya countered. “We call it the Pilgrimage. You may not enter Ferdiz unless you walk there from the desert border. To take any shortcut would be incredibly offensive to us, and more so to the ones who did it.”

“I see,” Leona said.

“No. But you can.” He offered her his hand as Uaiya offered hers to Future!Mateo.

All four of them teleported away to be followed by the rest of the team, including Aclima and Carlin. They were standing on the ridge of a mountain. Below them, in the center of the desolate basin, sat a lush patch of fertile ground. It looked so out of place from up here; a paradise surrounded by desert, like an artist’s interpretation of the Garden of Eden. If they didn’t know better, though, they could believe it was natural. This was a reasonable spot to expect an oasis to form. Between them and the garden, they could also see an ant-sized person making their way towards it. They were moving very slowly before falling to their knees, and then to their face.

Angela lurched.

“No,” Leif urged her. “He is close enough to Ferdiz. Others will come for him. He will just not have quite made it all the way. But it is not up to us to help.”

“I thought we couldn’t teleport here at all,” Ramses reminded him.

“Just to show you,” Leif explained, “it’s fine. But if you want that timonite, you have to make the Pilgrimage, following the rules literally every step of the way, and you have to hope the other Pilgrims let you take it. They do not fall under our jurisdiction, so I can promise you nothing.”

“How many people take the Pilgrimage per year?” Marie asked. “How many die?”

“These days, maybe fifty people attempt it? I couldn’t tell you how many die. Taking the first step breaks you free from your duties to society, and also its protections. We don’t retrieve the bodies, and we don’t communicate with Ferdiz.”

“So it could be a deathtrap?” Future!Mateo suggested. “A group of cannibals could be living there, waiting for their weekly meal?”

Leif fell into a very soft smile, and waited to respond as he turned his head to look at Future!Mateo. “Yes. They could be. There are currently around 60,000 people in the world, and there’s a reason we don’t all try it.”

“No one comes back?” Leona asked.

“I believe some have, over the years, and they’ve been welcomed. But they stay quiet, and if their experiences were recorded, I’m not cognizant of the details. Like I said, I’m only the current Alpha; not an expert in this. You’ll have to speak with the right scholars for more information.”

“This planet was populated by Extremusians. Did they abandon their mission?” Olimpia pressed.

“No.” Leif took a breath, and admired the view one last time. We’re all clones, or descended from the clones.” He turned away. “Stay as long as you like, but don’t take one step closer, or you’ll be killed. That much I do know about them.” Leif and Uaiya took each other by the hand, and disappeared.

“How are we going to do this?” Future!Mateo asked. “I don’t know how long it takes to walk 6,000 kilometers, but I know it’s longer than a day.”

Leona nodded. “Yeah, it could take 200 years of realtime, depending on the terrain, and the fitness level of the Pilgrim.”

“I could go,” Aclima volunteered.

“As could I,” Carlin piped up. “Neither of us is on your pattern.”

“I’m also superhuman,” Aclima added, trying to distance herself from Carlin, even physically. “So it should be me.”

“I don’t think there’s a maximum, since the Alpha couldn’t even give us an exact number of Pilgrims, and he didn’t say you had to go alone. But anyway,” Leona continued, shaking her head, “we can’t ask you to do that. It’s not your problem.”

“It’s mine,” Past!Mateo said. “It’s mine, and mine alone.”

“If you die, it’ll create a paradox,” Future!Mateo argued with himself. “And anyway, you’re on the pattern, just like the rest of us.”

“We need more information,” Olimpia determined. “We need the entire set of rules. What can you take with you, what can’t you? Is there a dress code?”

Leona noticed that Angela was still staring at the fallen Pilgrim. “Angie. This is their way. Whoever that is, he knew the risks, I’m sure of it.”

“There’s nothing to eat or drink around here!” Angela cried. “How does anyone survive this, without an IMS, or anything?”

“We’ve seen very little of the route,” Leona answered calmly.

“Well, Pia’s right,” Angela responded. “I have more questions.” She teleported back to the landing site. Everyone else followed.

They sat down with the Alpha, Beta, and the Gamma in the Delegation Hall of the Ambassador. They didn’t only discuss the Pilgrimage. There was a reason for their leadership titles, and it had nothing to do with alpha-male mentality. Omega Strong was a clone of Saxon Parker. He gave himself that name after the number that he was assigned left him with a mental complex. He abandoned his calling, and struck out on his own, eventually winding up on the transgalactic ship known as the Extremus. To remedy his regrets, he cloned himself more than a hundred years ago to build an army to fight against the Exin Empire. This planet was located relatively close to the Goldilocks Corridor, though it was not considered part of it. The Extremusians choosing it as an outpost placed the two factions more at odds than they already were.

Some of the clones rejected their responsibilities, which should have come as no surprise, since they were all created from the original, defiant Omega. They weren’t exact copies at any rate. Each one was actually based on the one prior, and genetically altered ever so slightly each time, always drifting further and further away in every respect. It was for this reason that the clones who chose to dig in on Verdemus instead of going to war had felt comfortable procreating with each other, even though they all technically had the same progenitor. There were anti-incest laws, though. It was illegal to form any sort of romantic bond with someone within one thousand degrees of separation. As it turned out, Leif and Uaiya were exactly a thousand degrees apart, which was why they were so defensive about their relationship. Different people had different ideas on what was considered acceptable, and many felt that even this amount of genetic drift was too close. Over time, as the population aged, these restrictions would probably relax, especially since the descendants made it more difficult to make the calculation in the first place, but for now, it was a topic of intense debate.

As for the Pilgrimage, they were right that they didn’t have all the rules. Whoever went could not go with an IMS, nor any electronic, or temporal advantage. They were allowed minimal supplies, including shelter, limited clothing, a knife, rope, a fire-starting kit, and initial rations. They obviously had to carry all of this on their backs, though Leona guessed correctly that they could travel in a group. Aclima was clearly the perfect candidate for this since survival was so much easier for her, and the Merchants didn’t see any issues with it. The rules didn’t say anything about what species you had to be. For Carlin, the more they talked about it, the more excited he became. This would be a personal journey for him—as it was meant to be when it was first designed—but he could not articulate his exact reasons. Regardless, there was nothing they could do to stop him. But Past!Mateo was very perturbed. People had already done so much to help him, and he felt like a helpless baby bird. He had to do something too.

“We can help with that as well,” Uaiya claimed. She stood up and disappeared briefly, returning with what reminded some of them of an ankle monitor. “This fits around your ankle. It has a little bit of the timonite you seek, though my guess is that it’s not enough for you to just take. It doesn’t suppress all forms of temporal manipulation, but it does tie you to realtime. It should stop you from jumping to the future. It will use the timonite up, though, just as it would any other power source. And if I’m being honest, if that happens in the middle of the year, it might throw you back on your regular pattern instantly. I don’t know enough about how salmon work.”

Past!Mateo smiled, and graciously accepted the gift. “That settles it, I’m going. It doesn’t matter if anyone else does.”

“You don’t need to be alone,” Aclima said to him, patting him on the back.

“I’ll be doing this for myself as much as for you,” Carlin promised.

“Are you two sure?” Past!Mateo looked to Leif for guidance. “I don’t think there’s any going back.”

“It’s true,” Leif began, “when you begin the Pilgrimage, you forfeit your rights. But...you’re not citizens, you’re visitors, so it’s a bit of a gray area.”

Past!Mateo looked at his friends. “If we can’t wear our suits, then we need time to prepare. You won’t be able to see us off.”

“That’s okay,” Leona “We’ll say our goodbyes now.” She leaned in, and planted a passionate kiss on his lips.

“Hey, that’s my wife,” Future!Mateo joked. It was strange to see it, but he was fine. It had been a long time since his past self had seen his own version of her.

“That ankle thing,” Ramses said as he was eyeing it. “Do you happen to have another one of those?”

“Do you wanna go on the journey too?” Marie asked, confused.

“No. But I think someone should stay and keep an eye on the Sentry.”

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Microstory 2146: To Participate

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There are consequences to your actions, people. Never forget that. I’m not saying that I’m being punished here, but my website does get read by a number of people, including the jail’s personnel. Based on my weird last two installments, it has been suggested to me that I start to struggle more when I’m unable to have my usual weekly therapy session, for whatever reason. I don’t think it always matters so much what she and I discuss, just that I have time to talk to someone who has been trained to listen and try to understand others. I think that’s a fair assessment. Just looking back on my past posts, and reflecting on my recent life, it sounds about right that I go a little crazy sometimes. I think I was meant to have group sessions all along while I was in jail, but I sort of forgot about it, and the expectation is that I manage my schedule myself. No one is going to force me to talk to anyone about anything in particular. Some people are given more detailed sentences in this regard, but mine was purposefully vague. Even so, it’s a good idea, so I participated in group on Saturday. I didn’t really want to participate directly. In fact, I think maybe it should be expected that a newbie keep their mouth shut on their first day, and just listen to the veterans first. I don’t mean to imply that no one has anything worthy of being heard during their first session, just that it might foster a safer and more welcoming environment to not introduce people so shockingly suddenly to an established group. Give us time to acclimate, ya know?

Well, I was forced to talk, because as I’ve explained, I’m kind of famous. Some were not happy that I was there, and/or not happy about the developments on my website. Due to my belief that I’m a traveler from another universe, they think that I should be given stricter rules when it comes to my personal mental health journey. I’m obviously crazy, and need to be medicated, heavily therapized, and maybe locked up 24/7. I must say, I totally see where they’re coming from. If I’m so convinced that time travel is real, then a group session where I talk about how much I miss my dog—who is supposedly being taken care of by an alternate version of me—is probably not enough. It might be taking time away from people who have more grounded problems. If I were trying to work through what they perceive to be my delusions, that would be a different story, but since I’m holding firm to them, and the group leader is making no effort to change that, I imagine that that can get pretty annoying. That’s one reason why I didn’t want to talk the first time, and why I don’t know if I ever want to talk at all. I am from another world, and I’m never going to claim otherwise, because it would be a lie, and that would be worse. I hope that my fellow patients can learn to accept that, as I make an effort to accept their drug addictions and domestic violence issues, which I’ve never had a problem with personally. For now, I have no reason to believe that I won’t be able to have my regular private session with my own therapist this coming Wednesday, so hopefully I can get back on track then. Oh, and one more thing, for this Sunday’s social media post, I wrote this cryptic question about a snake eating its own tail in real life. There’s no hidden meaning behind that. I just didn’t have anything real to say, so I just kind of randomly started typing words, and that’s what came out. If you interpreted it as a puzzle, or thought experiment, or something, don’t worry about it anymore. I just don’t like to skip days. Maybe I should talk to my therapist about that.