Microstory 2648: Exploits

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Hrockas Steward watches as the ruins of the transfer warehouse crumble to the ground on top of three visitors. All of their substrates survive, and they go on with their day. That’s not the issue. This is a testing ground for people’s new superhuman abilities. He expects damage. This is quite a bit, to be sure, but the bots will rebuild as needed. The real problem is that one of them is not in the records. Using the remote identifying system, he can’t even see that she’s in the system at all. Not even a regular retinal scan is coming up with a match. He has no idea how she ended up on this planet, but he does know that her consciousness isn’t streaming, so she has no business being in Underbelly. How did she get her powers in the first place? “Run it back.”

“How far, sir?” the Custodian asks.

“As far back as it will go,” Hrockas clarifies. “I want to track her movements since she first entered this dome.”

“There won’t be sound, sir. It’s a privacy issue.”

“I understand that, C-01131-1. I’m the one who designed the protocols. Now show me her path. Show me the whole thing.” They watch the accelerated footage in reverse. The mysterious woman leaves in a car going backwards, and gets in a morgue drawer. The drawer closes, then opens again, and her body is transferred out of it by the mortician. It’s taken to a jewelry store where a blade is pulled out of her body, as well as a superhero’s. The footage skips after that as she spent weeks in a private space with no cameras. They keep watching her story, piecing together what she’s been through by witnessing the events in the wrong order. “There. Right there. What is that?”

“That is a maintenance tunnel that leads from the in-game subway to the outside world,” C-1 replies. “It’s used to travel into the city without interfering with the story.”

“How the hell did she know that was there?” Hrockas questions. “Keep going. I want to see where she was before.”

“I can’t, sir,” the custodian explains. “I only have access to Underbelly internal.”

“Right, I knew that. I’ll input my admin codes.” They watch more reverse footage. She has not been on Castlebourne for long, having come in on that second arkship. He does not have access to the ship’s sensors, so he doesn’t know how she managed to stay hidden there, but he doesn’t care at this point. She met with someone weeks ago who he recognizes. He takes out his phone, and calls her. “Are you alone?” When she answers yes, he says, “then this is a warning that I am teleporting to your location immediately.”

After he lands at the gym, she smiles at him. “Welcome, Steward.”

“I’m not in the mood, Tereth. Come with me.” He offers her his hand.

“Oh my, Hrockas. I am a married woman. What will my husband think?”

“Just take my goddamn hand.” Once she does and stops smiling, he teleports back to the custodial wing of Underbelly. He then points to the screen. “Who is this?”

Now Yunil has fully lost her joyful attitude. “Dont worry about it.”

“You know I can’t do that. What did you do? And before your respond with some quippy lie, allow me to skip it, and reiterate with more fervor, what did you do!”

Yunil sighs. “She wanted to stay unregistered. I gave her a clean ID.”

“You didn’t just give her any regular ID. You gave her admin access.”

“I...” she looks confused. “Did I? Wait, how can I do that? Our machine should not be able to do that. It’s just for the refugees, mostly the government.”

“That’s why it needed to be universal,” Hrockas argues. “You have admin access to all non-utility and non-logistical domes. You even have access to Military Dome, and you gave it to her too. Can you imagine if she had gone there instead? She would have placed global security at risk, rather than only her own life.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t realize it was that comprehensive. I didn’t know I was granting any admin access at all. I thought it would simply allow her to enter the domes. As a normal human, I assumed she would only go to safe places. Are we in Underbelly?”

“Yeah, thanks to you.”

“What happened? Is she okay?”

“I obviously can’t trust you with that information. I’ll let you agonize over what may or may not have happened to her. But I’m not yet certain what the consequences of your actions will be. I don’t care if you’re the Deputy Superintendent. This is my planet, you’re all here as guests, and I reserve the right to take it away from any individual at any time. That includes you. Your husband can’t keep you safe.”

“Now, just hold on, asshole! We’re all grateful that you provided us sanctuary, but that was decades ago. You can’t keep playing that card. We already lived under a tyrant. That is the whole point, so don’t you dare threaten me with exile, or whatever the hell else is on your mind. You may technically own the planet, but we govern the citizens. There are more of us than there are of you. The majority of your military is from the Corridor. We give this world legitimacy, so stop acting like it’s a burden. I’m sorry for what I did. I saw a lot of Dreychan in Mandica, and I wanted to help her, just as I helped him. If she’s in danger, let me go in myself and pull her out.”

Hrockas sighs. “She’s not in danger anymore. She found a loophole. We’re still trying to figure that out. As for you...you’re right. I’m sorry for treating you like burdens. I love that you’re here. I’m proud that I was able to give you safe haven. It just seems like I keep running into these vulnerabilities for people to exploit. First your now husband is almost killed, using a different type of ID spoofing, then an Exemplar in Spydome emerges, and shuts down an entire dome network with a single thought. I get upset because I’m trying to protect you from the Exin Army. What if the Oaksent finds another vulnerability? What if he discovers where we are? Again, what you did placed only this Mandica woman in danger. I do not think she’s a spy, but the next one who comes to you may be. Dreychan almost died because people thought that’s what he was. Don’t let that happen again. Don’t open the door. Proper procedure is there for a reason.”

“That’s a good point. I apologize again,” Yunil says, contrite.

He nods, but it’s still awkward.

“What...happened to her?” she asks. “You said she found a loophole? Did she decide to become a transhuman after all? She said that she was against it for herself.”

“She didn’t seem to do it on purpose,” Hrockas divulges. He runs the footage back to the jewelry store attack. “It somehow happened to her, like a real origin story.”

Yunil peers at the screen. “You do know that the Philosopher’s Stone is real, right? I don’t know if that’s it, but it’s not just a story. Bronach found it at some point.”

“Oh.” Hrockas looks at the Custodian. “Find out where that prop came from.”

“And that looks like the Sword of Assimilation,” Yunil goes on. “You should talk to one of your executive administrators. Darko Matic is the one who told me about it.”

Extremus: Year 115

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The Induction Ceremony. When Extremus first launched, the captain had a lieutenant as their second-in-command. That sounded practical, and it didn’t seem like they needed anything more. Later on, the lieutenant became first lieutenant, and a second lieutenant position was added. Neither lieutenant rank is a stepping stone to captain. It’s a separate track, and while it’s not technically impossible for someone in this position to eventually become captain, it’s never happened, and that’s not the intended protocol. Anyone of age can be appointed as captain. Hell, Tinaya could have selected some random 18-year-old who failed every class in school, and had severe behavioral issues. She would have had no support, and the idea would have been vetoed by the council, but the point is, there is no particular rule for where the next captain comes from. Oceanus has changed all that.

There will now be three vice captains. It’s not entirely apparent what these people will be doing, just that they will compete for the top spot over the course of the next six years. Silveon guesses that they will take turns shadowing Captain Jennings at first, then gradually begin to take on more duties as they become more comfortable with the work. This never happened in his timeline, but he remembers Waldemar partially running his campaign on the idea, along with other broken promises. It was only a misdirect, of course, so he could get in a position of power, and keep it permanently. Now he doesn’t need all those lies. He’s already in, and just needs to beat out two other contenders. Their identities are currently unknown. Waldemar’s selection has been kept under wraps as well. Tinaya knows because he told her directly, but he wasn’t meant to, and technically, he shouldn’t have known yet either. The competition has already started, however. Three dozen young hopefuls submitted their applications last year, and took tests to see who out of them would win the precious few coveted roles. They weren’t aware that they were vying for only two spots, though, rather than three.

Tinaya has the unfortunate honor of announcing the winners. She doesn’t know why they chose her for this. It really should be Oceanus, since this is his thing, but they probably want to use this as an opportunity to suggest that everything is hunky dory in the executive crew wing. “Waldemar..Kristiansen!” she cries with a feigned tone of excitement. The crowd cheers. The other contestants clap too, but not too loudly, because their chances just went way down.

 Waldemar claps as well, and pumps his fist in the air as he’s jogging across the row, and down the aisle, which actually brings a little more energy to his competitors. He knew that he was gonna get picked, yet he chose a seat in the middle so it would be a bigger deal for him to climb over a bunch of people that he just bested. It’s all a performance. Once he’s on stage, he walks over to Lataran, who hands him his ceremonial dagger. Neither of them can figure out the symbolism there. Daggers aren’t part of standard dress for a captain, nor some meaningful symbol of their ancestors. It seems kind of random, but people are loving it. Waldemar stabs the air with it triumphantly, as if he’s a general preparing for battle, causing an uproar in cheers. Maybe it’s a symbol of masculinity. The other two candidates will probably be men too, so...that makes some sense, if you wanna be cynical about it.

Tinaya starts to open the second envelope. She didn’t just pick whichever one was closer. They were quite clear on what the order was. This is Envelope Number Two, and the last one will probably be a bombshell. They’re using envelopes in the first place to be reminiscent of ancient Earthan award ceremony traditions. But. Whatever. “Détha..Partanen!” Okay, maybe it won’t just be a boy’s club. Well, good for them, making it look like there’s any semblance of fairness, and the game isn’t rigged. At least they’re starting to understand optics.

Détha walks to the stage, briskly but with a lot less enthusiasm. Instead, she’s cool and composed, already giving off an air of authority. Tinaya isn’t familiar with her, so she’ll have to look up her file later. That was probably a mistake. There were only 38 applicants; she should have been studying them for the last couple of months. They could be in great danger. If Waldemar feels that his future is being threatened, he could resort to unsavory tactics; even violent ones. Détha, and whoever is in this third envelope, has now fallen under Tinaya’s protection. Hopefully she won’t die herself in the meantime. Détha takes her dagger, and immediately magnetizes it to her utility belt. She doesn’t need to perform.

Okay, it’s the third envelope. Let’s finish this up. Tinaya slices through the sticker with her fingernail, then slips it back through to open it. She stands there for a moment, staring at the name before her. This is bad. This is really bad. Thank God she’s holding it with two hands. She carefully reaches over to her watch, and secretly taps on the clockstopper button. Very few people on this ship have access to this feature. No one else even knows about it. And it’s not private. It’s an all-or-nothing deal, where time stops for everyone, except for the tight inner circle. For a few seconds, she’s frozen in place, like nearly everyone else in this room, except that she and the other clockstoppers are still conscious. This is to give them a baseline position. When she restarts time, they will return to this exact orientation, so no one is aware that time was ever stopped. This can be overridden, if necessary, but they’ll worry about that later.

Time restarts, but only for the few. The majority of the people on the ship, and indeed, the entire universe, is still frozen in time. “What’s the problem?” Oceanus asks, standing up from his baseline.

“You know what the problem is,” Tinaya says, pointing the envelope at him accusatorily.

“I don’t,” Lataran says, shaking off the baseline freeze. There are no lasting effects, but it’s an uncomfortable feeling, being a statue.

“You’re complaining to me?” Oceanus questions. He points towards the section of the audience for people who didn’t apply to be vice captains. “Why are they awake?”

Arqut and Silveon are starting to walk towards them. There’s no teleporting when the clocks are stopped.

“I hacked the system,” Tinaya admits. “They are the only people on this ship, besides Latty, that I trust. I made them clockstoppers, because I need support against people like you...for shit like this.” She shakes the envelope again, but more angrily. It slips out of her hand, and falls to the floor.

Lataran picks it up, and reads, “Silveon Grieves.”

“What?” Silveon asks as he’s approaching with his father.

Lataran scoffs. “We knew it was rigged, but...”

“I did this for the ship,” Oceanus begins to explain. “You told me that Waldemar becomes a tyrant. Silveon is my ace in the hole.”

“I’m a steward,” Silveon explains.

Oceanus shrugs. “Détha is a soldier. It doesn’t disqualify her.”

“I didn’t apply,” Silveon argues.

“Waldemar applied for you. I’m guessing he wants you to fail intentionally, so he can win. But you don’t have to. You can fight. You can become the next captain.”

Silveon is seething. “My mother was captain, and her aunt before her. It’s already a dynasty, it has to end.”

“I barely accepted the position,” Tinaya adds. “I was already worried about the whispers, but they begged me to take it. I’m still not sure that it was the right decision. Now you want to risk even more? Waldemar is a family friend. We can’t add Silveon to the mix. It screams nepotism and cronyism at the same time.”

“You had nothing to do with the selection process,” Oceanus reminds her, “and you will have nothing to do with ascension.”

“Oh my God, we’re not actually calling it that, are we?” Tinaya shakes her head in disgust.

“I know this is weird,” Oceanus acknowledges. “But Waldemar told me the ship was destroyed, and you confirmed it later. I didn’t agree to the vice captain program until he proved that he was from the future, and that proof came in the form of you and the Consul. I was bound by my word after that. I’m just trying to find a loophole.”

“There is no loophole!” Silveon yells. “Waldemar will become king whether any of us likes it or not! All we can do is make him less of an asshole, and spare some lives along the way. If he doesn’t get what he wants, people will get hurt. His ascension,” he says with airquotes, “is inevitable.”

“Why is it inevitable?” Oceanus claps back. “What, is he wearing the hundemarke, or something?”

Silveon grows silent.

“Holy shit, he’s wearing the hundemarke,” Oceanus realizes. “It was destroyed centuries ago.”

Silveon sighs. “You can’t destroy an object’s past, only its future. It still has a few more fixed moments in time that it needs to create.”

“Speaking of which,” Arqut jumps in, “I’ve seen the studies. We can’t keep time stopped much longer. It’s not healthy. The safeguards will kick in, and the way I understand it, you do not want to be too far from your baseline when that happens.”

“Read the name,” Oceanus insists to Tinaya. “It’s already done.” He faces Silveon. “You make your own choices, but I urge you to do everything you can to win. Please. Your ship needs you.”

“I’ll respectfully decline,” Silveon contends.

“You can’t,” Oceanus returns. “As I said, it’s done. If you back out, it will just be down to a race between Waldemar and Miss Partanen. We won’t replace you with another candidate. It’s you, or no one.”

“Let me see that,” another voice demands. It’s Head Councillor Regulus Crusan, who literally just had his own induction ceremony an hour ago. He wasn’t even here when the clocks were stopped. Tinaya is a little surprised that he was already turned into a clockstopper. Evidently, bureaucracy can work fast sometimes. He must have been so confused when he was mingling in a crowd, or talking to a friend. He takes the envelope from Lataran, and examines it, closing it back up to see it from all angles. “I don’t like how this looks, but we have to agree on it before we restart the clocks. Otherwise, we put reality in unnecessary danger.” He shakes it like Tinaya before, but not so angrily, just demonstratively. “Admiral Leithe reads the name, and whoever it is shall accept their role with grace and poise. Understood?”

Oceanus smiles. “Understood.”

“Admiral. Steward,” he prompts.

Silveon takes another breath. “I think you’ll mean vice captain.” He doesn’t like it, but it will keep him close to Waldemar, which could only help in his mission to lessen the negative impact of the Kristiansen Regime.

“Right,” Crusan says. “Do as you’ve been ordered, Admiral.” He hands the envelope back to Tinaya.

Everyone returns to where they were when time was stopped, and gets as close as they can to how they were before. Tinaya waits until they’re all in position to do the same. After she begins the time-restarting timer for eleven seconds, she approximates her own baseline, reopening the envelope at the last moment. She doesn’t even get the chance to smile before she’s frozen up again, millimeters away from her guess. Time then restarts, and she’s free to continue. Now she can smile. Head Councillor Crusan, you sneaky snake. She lowers her hands, and looks out at the audience. “Pronastus..Kegrigia!”

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The Advancement of Mateo Matic: July 31, 2513

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Come midnight central, Leona, Angela, and Romana didn’t jump forwards to the future, proving that they were no longer on their time patterns. That was a week ago. Mateo never did come through the lake. Something was terribly wrong on his end. Nerakali said that she would look into it, but communicating with the afterlife simulation was tricky. It still existed in another universe, and getting through that Angry Fifth Divisioner’s thick quintessence membrane wasn’t easy. They took a suite in the Crest Hotel, and had sort of been lounging about, trying to wrap their brains around their new reality. Mateo was dead, and probably never coming back, and they were stuck in the present for the rest of their lives. It made them feel uncomfortable, even Romana, who should have been more used to it.

Leona had fallen asleep on the couch in the middle of the day, but something woke her up. “What’s that noise?” she groaned, not even opening her eyes.

“Sorry, I’m just watching TV,” Romana said, turning it down. “I didn’t know it would get so loud at this part.”

Bleary-eyed, Leona propped herself up on one shoulder, and tried to focus on the screen. “Is this SG Multiverse?”

“Yeah, did you watch it way back when?”

Leona chuckled and pointed. “That happened to me.”

“What?”

“What she’s doing right now. I did that. I had to cut my legs off. It was based off this show.”

Romana looked at her funny. “Are you messing with me?”

Angela walked in from the other room. “Mister Stark,” she began. “I don’t feel so good.” Dark particles swarmed around her, and she disappeared.

Leona barely reacted. She just looked over at her daughter. “Well. Boyd better have a damn good reason for this.” They both disappeared through dark particles too.

“The thing you have to understand about sling travel is that it’s not as quick as everyone thinks. It’s more like you leave time, and your mind can’t comprehend that. It can’t reconcile existing without time. It may be impossible for a human consciousness to interpret anything beyond four dimensions as anything but instant. Then again, we’ve been to the outer bulk before, and time has passed—can you hand me that drewscriver?” That wasn’t only a spoonerism. The drewscriver was a fanciful embossing tool invented in the late 21st century that could pull ferromagnetic metals and metamaterials upwards at precision scale. It was typically used to stamp industrial coding, but could also just be used to create texture for aesthetics. “Time has passed,” he repeated, “so I don’t know what that’s about. What I do know is that the way the slingdrives work, you actually spend a lot of time in the universal membrane, but you don’t remember it. It might even essentially be an eternity, but if thought stops, and metabolism stops, it’s like it never happened. You feel me?”

“I just push these buttons and tell machines to build domes,” Hrockas replied as if he were an idiot. It was obviously a lot more complicated than that, and he had to have a certain level of intelligence to even get this far, but point taken.

Ramses finished his finishing touches, and set the box back down. “There it is. The escape module.”

“That’s not big enough for a person,” Hrockas pointed out.

“No, I told you, that’s not—oh, you’re joking.”

“So. If what happened to you in the future happens again, all of your supplies will automatically be spit out of these pocket dimension things through this thing.”

“Not all of the supplies, just the essentials,” Ramses clarified. “Which I guess is pretty much everything. What else are we gonna put in there?” Ramses tapped on his wrist interface and whistled for effect. The escape module disappeared, tucked away safely in its dedicated pocket. “Oo, I feel heavier,” he quipped.

“Does that mean you’re finally ready to go?”

“No time like the present, even if 2396 isn’t my present.” Ramses engaged his new EmergentSuit, and walked towards the slingdrive, which was already programmed to send him back to the future. “Hey, man. Thanks for letting me use this dome for my new-slash-old lab. I didn’t want it to interfere with the lab that I end up building in my past-slash-future.”

“Mi Dome Eleven is su Dome Eleven. It’s been a hell of a year, Rambo.”

Ramses smiled as he stepped into the chamber, and turned back around. “Did you ever decide what you’re gonna do with it once I’m gone? I don’t remember what it ends up being in the future. You stop using numbers when you come up with names.”

Hrockas smiled back. “I’m thinking that it’s going to be a scavenger hunt, or something. The terrain has lots of natural corners.”

“Interesting. See ya in a hundred and sixteen years.”

“Apparently, I’ll see you in seventy-nine.”

“True. Hey, Thistle...” Before Ramses could execute a command, dark particles started to swirl around him.

“Is it supposed to look like that?” Hrockas questioned.

“No, this isn’t right! I don’t know what’s happening! Thistle, lock down the la—!” He disappeared.

Marie and Olimpia appeared from their swarm of dark particles and landed somewhat roughly on the ground next to the rest of Team Matic. They were surprised, and a little embarrassed, having been wearing their pajamas when it happened. Well, Olimpia was in her pajamas. Marie looked like she was auditioning for a jungle porno.

“Yoink!” Mateo exclaimed. “Nailed it.”

Everyone steadied themselves. They had all traveled through dark particles before, but this time was more turbulent. “You did this?” Leona asked.

“I stole his power,” Mateo said with a shrug. “NBD.”

“You can have it,” Boyd said sincerely.

“At least someone can still do it. We’ve been off our pattern for a week,” Romana lamented.

“It’s been a year for me,” Ramses one-upped.

“Boyd,” Mateo scolded.

“This isn’t my fault,” Boyd insisted. “I told you, work backwards to find him in the timestream, then once you do, go back further to see how long he’s been there. I told you that,” he reiterated.

“Oh, yeah, you did say that.”

“It’s fine, I was working on something. New upgrades. I even built a new lab. Actually, since I was in the past, it’s older than the last one, so... We can check it out if you want.”

“We need to make a decision first,” Mateo explained. “Boyd has something to say. Boyd?” he prompted.

Boyd looked at the ground abashedly for a moment. He then reached up to squeeze the collar of his shirt. A hologram over his face flickered before collapsing entirely to reveal his true face underneath. He still looked like himself, but crystal shards were embedded in his skin. It looked very painful.

“Ooo, that’s gotta hurt,” Leona noted with nurse-level concern.

“It’s not that bad.”

“He came out like this when we came back from the afterlife simulation,” Mateo explained. “I tried to kind of...remove them with dark particles, but I still don’t understand what they can do, and what they can’t.”

“It’s not something you learn,” Boyd said as he was putting the holographic illusion back up. “You build your intuition around it.”

Mateo nodded. “He is a living temporal energy crystal now. He believes that he can restore your powers, but that he would have to restore them all. You can’t just get back the teleportation and Alyssa’s lightbending. It’s all or nothing. You would be back on the pattern.”

“Is that even a choice?” Leona asked.

“We’ve been through this before, but this is another opportunity to leave. You probably can’t get Alyssa’s powers back, but Ramses could just build you new bodies with teleportation capabilities, and isn’t that really all you need? You don’t have to skip time. We got used to it, but it’s also been really annoying at times.”

“Can he...remove it from you?” Romana asked him.

“I don’t think so,” Mateo replied with a shake of his head. “I was already dead when the crystal was destroyed. I wasn’t affected by it. This is more of a reversal of what was done as a result of the lemon juice explosion, and it was only done to the six of you. And Octavia, I guess, but who cares about her?”

“We’re not gonna leave you behind,” Olimpia argued, stepping closer to him. She wrapped her arms around his waist. “I’m not done with you yet.”

“Let’s put it to a vote,” Marie suggested. “Raise your hand if you want to stay off the pattern.”

No one raised their hand.

“Boyd?” Leona asked. “Could you put yourself back on the pattern? I’m just asking. You decide whatever you want...”

“I don’t know, but I doubt it. I’ll explain why later, but I think it would be like trying to get a lighter to light itself on fire. It don’t bend that way.”

“Are you upset by that?” Marie pressed.

“It is what it is. I’m the one who poured the lemon juice. Good or bad, these are the consequences, and I’ll live with them.” Then he chuckled for some reason.

“How does it work?” Angela asked. “Do you just...stare at us with your crystal face?”

“Same as when it was a regular crystal on its own,” Boyd corrected. “You’ll touch my face, and I’ll transfer the energy to you. At least that’s what my intuition says. I’ve obviously never done this before.”

“There’s something else,” Mateo started. “It might change your mind, so just give me one last chance.” They all agreed nonverbally, so he led them down the hill, and then down the trail. They were in Canyondome, which was just a naturally-formed canyon on Castlebourne. It wasn’t even the largest one. It was only the largest one that still fit within the radius of a standard-sized dome. It was particularly deep, though. They were standing just over 14.5 kilometers below the edge of the canyon, which meant that they were 56 kilometers from the top of the dome.

They came ‘round the bend to find a man chained to a stake in the ground. He was sitting quite comfortably in a lounger, and seemed none too bothered by it, though he apparently couldn’t leave. “Is that...?” Olimpia began to ask.

“What’s Old Man Bronach doing here?” Leona questioned.

“I resurrected him,” Mateo answered. “We’re gonna help him regain power in the Goldilocks Corridor from his quantum duplicate.”

“Why the hell would we do that?” Marie asked.

“Because he’s the lesser of two evils,” Mateo claimed. “Some people in the Exin Empire don’t want an Oaksent to be in power, and we’ve helped them escape. Some, however, are true believers, and we’ll probably never be able to change their minds. So we compromise. We install this version on the throne, and in exchange, he doesn’t actively stop the rescue efforts of the Vellani Ambassador.”

Leona looked down at the Oaksent. “Is this true? Can you be trusted with this?”

Bronach grinned. “There’s a catch.”

Mateo sighed. “Anyone who wants to leave is welcome to leave, but he is free to...repopulate his worlds the way he did it the first time.”

“We’re allowing him to breed a new generation of sycophants?” Leona was disgusted.

“We can’t stop him unless we kill him,” Mateo argued. “But if we kill him, his most loyal subjects will just do it anyway, and the ensuing war could be devastating for the whole galaxy. We’re trying to end the Ex Wars, not make them worse. As I said, it’s a compromise. I don’t like it, but it’s the best I could do. There’s a loophole, though. He’ll accept your counsel, but only while you’re in the timestream. If you get back on my pattern, we only have influence on his decisions once per year.”

“Whose influence?” Leona asked. “Anyone on Team Matic.”

Mateo nodded. “The offer extends to anyone currently on Team Matic, including Boyd. It’s not the team itself. I had him sign an itemized list. We’re all on it.”

A lightbulb clicked on over Leona’s head. “Ramses is on the list?”

“Of course he is,” Mateo replied.

Ramses was hurt. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“No reason,” Leona answered. “I accept these terms.” She spun around, and placed both hands on Boyd’s cheeks. She then pulled his head down to her level, and planted a kiss on his lips, no tongue. Those standing at the right angle saw technicolors transmit from his crystalline face to hers before quickly dissipating.

“I never said we had to kiss,” Boyd reminded her once she let go.

“Just something to remember me by. I mean, something for me to remember you,” she said solemnly. After a beat, she spun back around. “Who’s next?”

They all took their turns, not even knowing what Leona had in mind to keep Bronach in line. They each gave Boyd a kiss, because monkey see, monkey do. Most of them were pecks. Romana’s was more than that. She only stopped when her father cleared his throat suggestively. Ramses was last, still nervous about Leona singling him out regarding the Bronach contract. He evidently got his powers back just in time. Because shortly afterwards...Boyd fell down and died again.

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Microstory 2210: It Broke Him

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Hello, everyone. My name is Kelly Serna, and I am Nick Fisherman IV’s lifecare assistant. If you follow him on social, you’ll already know that. What you don’t know yet is that he’s having more trouble with this than he has let on. When I took over for his update this morning, I didn’t want to say anything, but after rereading some key full posts from days past, I’ve decided to maintain his spirit of honesty. Nick has reportedly always been fascinated with immortality. He’s come up with a number of different ways for the characters he creates to subvert death. He told me yesterday that it kind of got so out of hand that in one universe, it’s virtually impossible for anyone to die, which effectively lowered the stakes for the stories, forcing his other self—the one who is still a writer—to come up with major loopholes to the backup protocols. At this point, I believe that Nick would salute, and respectively repeat the words “Major Loopholes”. Anyway, the way he tells it, the ability to avoid death was his favorite superpower out of all of them, which was why he felt such relief when he managed to procure it for himself. When he realized that he lost this power, he felt hopeless and frustrated, and apparently fell back into his old habits, which he had exhibited when he was just a normal guy, before the multiverse opened up to him. And yes, to be clear, I one hundred percent believe that he comes from a different version of Earth, and that he is telling the truth about everything that would sound outlandish coming from anyone else. I’ve read every installment on his site, and we’ve been talking a lot about it lately, because I didn’t pay all too much attention when we worked together at the plant nursery. Nick had never warmed up to the idea of dying, for any reason. He had been planning to live forever since he was eight years old when his older sister made a casual comment that they didn’t know it was impossible just because it hadn’t happened before. Traveling to a world where he was no longer immortal was one thing. He could have still held out hope for science. But to come to realize that he was so sick, not even the most optimistic of longevity advances could save his life in time? It broke him. He doesn’t want to do this site anymore, but I have faith that he will want to return to it one day, and when he does, he will not want his daily streak to have been broken. I have his passwords, so I will continue to update you in his stead. And when he does come back, I’m sure he’ll have a lot to say about how I handled things. I hope not to disappoint him.

Microstory 2125: Is Forever

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Today was the day that I finally met my parole officer. Now, if you’re reading this from my Earth, which you would only be able to do if my alternate self decided to copy my story onto his own version of the blog, you might be confused. There’s a chance that he’s doing that, I don’t know. If he can still see me in this universe, I still can’t see him, so he wouldn’t be able to get me a message. But if he is doing this, and that’s where you are, then you may be wondering why I have a parole officer. Parole officers are meant to be assigned after someone has gone to prison, and gotten out early. Well, you see, technically that’s exactly what I did. Legally speaking, I was sentenced to three months of prison time. I’m not talking about intermittent jail here. This was a real prison where I should have served time without getting out until I was up for parole. It just so happened that my parole came up immediately, so I didn’t have to actually spend any time in the building. It’s a technicality. Though I never stepped one foot inside, on paper, I was sent to prison, so I’m still entitled to—and am indeed required to meet with—a parole officer while I complete the rest of my sentence, which includes weekend jail. Yes, there was a reason for this. The record shows that I was sent through processing, and had all the paperwork filled out, to inhabit a facility somewhere down south in Missouri. This all comes from a bunch of legal complexities that my attorneys handled for me, but it boils down to minimum sentences, and loopholes that allowed me to subvert those minimums. The reason they did this for me is that, not only did I aid in the recovery of a kidnap victim, but my actions eventually led to the arrest of the suspects. I didn’t know that last part before. They talked about it behind closed doors due to the sensitivity of the case. So you can all rest, assured that the ID makers who committed that crime are being served justice as we speak. All I know is that it’s a federal case, because the girl originated from a state other than Iowa, so someone had to cross a border at some point.

These are all the things that my parole officer explained to me at lunch. I always thought it was weird that I was getting a parole officer, instead of a probation officer, but I don’t know all that much about law and order on any world. He is as cool as I imagined he would be. He’s not one of those types who thinks that anyone who has ever committed a crime is a lifelong criminal, and should be locked up for the duration of that identification. He takes each of his parolees on a case-by-case basis, and says that he modifies his attitude to whatever he thinks will work best for each. He’s even told me that I’m free to reveal to the public what his name is. So here it goes. I’m about to say it. He’s watching me write this, and I’m sure he’ll watch me post it too, so I’m giving him ample opportunity to change his mind. No? In three, two, one. Just a second, he twitched. No, it was a coincidence. Okay, here it is. Leonard Miazga. He has had a long and storied history so far, but I won’t get into all that today, partially because I don’t remember all of it. He smiled and left, and I can’t recall everything he told me about himself. This also means that he won’t be able to stop me from telling you his name anymore. Hopefully he doesn’t change his mind after it posts, because the internet is forever. As for the lunch itself, it was really good. I’m pretty sure he paid for it out of his own pocket, and it’s not something that he can bill to the state. If we ever dine again on another day, I’ll pick up the tab. I got one job offer while we were at the table. If nothing else comes in, I’ll definitely take it, and I may even if all of the other potential employers respond positively. We’ll just have to see. I’m going to try to not make any big life decisions at the end of the week because of the whole jail thing. Tuesdays. Tuesdays are a good day, particularly for me. You don’t ever want to deal with such things at the end or the beginning of a given time period, and Tuesdays are just random enough to work. Anyway, I’m going to take a shower, and get ready to go back inside. Leonard will come back in an hour and a half to drive me down there. I’ll see you Monday, but only if you comment below, and even then, not really. Don’t you hate when TV hosts say that? “We’ll see you tomorrow.” It’s, like...no you won’t. That’s not how TV works. Maybe that’s just me.

The Advancement of Mateo Matic: October 16, 2398

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After helping the others settle into the hotel suite, Ramses pulled Mateo aside, and asked him to accompany him on a little mission. He revealed that the global brain scanner that Mateo installed on the orbiting satellite detected more than just Meredarchos and Erlendr’s location. There were other errors around the world. In truth, all things being equal, there was no way to know which was the right one. He had no choice but to guess that it was the one in San Diego, based on the fact that Kivi’s SD6 team was already there. It was a gamble that paid off, but now it’s time to investigate the other dots. Unfortunately, the scanner stopped working after a couple dozen passes. He can’t even make contact with it anymore. So by now, the data they compiled on these mysterious errors is already days old, and he doesn’t want to let it become even worse than that. Their first stop is to be a familiar old spot in Wyoming.

According to a quick word with Arcadia, her father loved water. He said that it wasn’t the same in The Gallery Dimension as it was in the normal world. He took a particular liking to untouched lakes and rivers, and had a special affinity for Brooks Lake. Mateo and Ramses are here now, standing at the edgewater, breathing in the clean air, and taking a break before things get real. Mateo smirks as he reflects on the last time he saw this beauty. It’s been a long time since he’s thought about this place. He and his family came here to avoid being caught by an evil version of Horace Reaver, but as far as they knew, there wasn’t anything special about it. Or not. Maybe his mother knew all along. It’s hard to tell with other people, he’s learned that since then. That version of his mom doesn’t even exist anymore. So much has changed.

“Hey, Rambo!” comes a voice from behind them. When they look back, a man in typical fishing getup smiles with a really open mouth. He removes his sunglasses. “Yeah, I thought that was you! What’re ya doin’ on this side of the lake?”

“Why wouldn’t I be over here?” Ramses asks.

“You told me you prefer what you called the Nile Side. You ever gonna tell me what that means?”

“One day,” Ramses calls back. “For now, I seem to have gotten lost while I was trying to show my friend here around. Maybe you could point me in the right direction?”

The fisherman is a bit suspicious, but what’s he gonna do, call the cops and claim that someone is impersonating his friend? “Just walk all along the bank until you get to the bridge, then keep going. I can see your cabin from here.” He points across the lake.

“Hey, thanks...friend.” Obviously Ramses doesn’t know his name.

“No prob. Happy fishin’.”

“Happy fishin’.”

“I guess that proves the early version of Erlendr is indeed here,” Mateo muses.

“The weirdest part is that he’s using my name with the locals.”

“Maybe he doesn’t much like himself.”

“We can use that,” Ramses says as he’s taking the first step around the lake.

The cabin is empty when they get there, but the door was locked, and it looks lived in. Mateo sits up on the bed while the real Ramses takes a chair. They wait for about an hour before the fake Ramses walks in. He doesn’t try to escape. He almost looks relieved. “I knew this day would come.”

“Why did you go where we could find you?” Mateo asks him.

“I just wanted to take a break from all the...” Erlendr can’t come up with the right word, so he just makes a growly noise of annoyance. “I met myself from the future, and I understand what’s to become of me, and also that it’s inevitable. You were fated to find me, no matter where I went, so I figured I might as well have relaxed until the time came.” He sets his bucket down, and slips off his wading boots. “Then this showed up, and I knew that I didn’t have long.” He parts the hair on his head, and reveals a small patch on his skin that’s sparkling with technicolors.

Ramses peers at it. “It’s timonite.”

“Is that what the kids are calling it these days?” Erlendr sits on a little step stool and calmly starts to remove his fishing gear.

Ramses thinks through this new information, then looks over at Mateo. “We did this. We did this to him. The scanner somehow...marked him?”

“We know where he’s going, and we know how he gets free from that world.”

“That’s not the issue. If the scanner did this to him, did it do it to the others?”

“We don’t even know who they might be,” Mateo says.

“Exactly. We could be banishing enemies...or friends.”

“Oh my God, I need to call Kivi. We cannot unleash Meredarchos on that unsuspecting world.”

“What does Meredarchos have to do with anything?” Erlendr questions.

“Don’t worry about it.”

“I’m not worried about anything anymore,” Erlendr claims. “It would be nice, however, if you could let me know how long I have until this happens to me?”

“No idea,” Ramses answers.

“How many other errors are out there?” Mateo asks Ramses.

“Ten. All over the world.”

“Could you build another scanner? If I got you a spaceship to launch it on, would you be able to make a new one?”

“You can do that?” Erlendr asks. “You can just get a spaceship?”

“Hush now,” he demands.

“I already have a backup orbital scanner,” Ramses explains, “but I’m not sure if that’s the best way to do this, not if it’s only going to last three days.”

“I think it only lasted three days because of the timonite I accidentally left up there,” Mateo posits. “It must have spirited it away, like it’s going to do with him.”

“Guys,” Erlendr tries to interject.

“I said shush.” Mateo goes back to Ramses. “What happened with the satellite before won’t happen the next time.”

“Sounds like a reasonable hypothesis,” Ramses decides. “You really think they’ll give us access to a ship? Maybe if the one from the lab were still available...”

“Guys,” Erlendr says more forcefully.

“Quiet!” Mateo and Ramses order simultaneously.

“I don’t think you’re gonna have to listen to my voice much longer.” Erlendr is holding his head with both hands. His face is turning red. He’s in a great deal of pain. The timonite bubbles, and begins to spread downwards. Once it’s covered the whole body, he disappears, as he was always meant to.

Ramses sighs. “Consider this time loop closed.”

“Let’s just hope that it happens to different people at different times.”

The Advancement of Mateo Matic: Sunday, July 31, 2146

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The team dropped Miapaktem and Padera off in the Croatian arcology, right where the scientists had been for the first transition window. Their job done, they went back to The Imzadi, and hung out for the rest of the day. A transition alarm woke them all up from having been sleeping in the next day. They were a little out of sorts, but well-rested. The window was opening up in Lebanon, Kansas in two minutes, and they were still in Croatia, so the new AI teleported them there, evidently underground.

A woman appeared on the bottom level. She looked around, curious but not scared. “Does anyone need any help?” she asked.

“Us?” Leona questioned as she was sliding down the steps. “I believe you are here so that we may help you.”

“I think I’m all right,” the woman said. “Helping people is generally my job.”

“As it is ours. My name is Jeremy Bearimy. These are my friends, Missus Leona and Mateo Matic, Angela Walton, and two people you can’t see named Kallias Bran, and Aeolia Sarai.”

“It’s nice to meet you. I’m Jodie Konsten, substitute Savior of Earth.” She smiled proudly.

“Substitute?” Leona asked. “You step in when Xearea needs a break.”

“Indeed,” Jodie confirmed. “It is a tough job, and mine is easy. She gets the occasional vacation, and I get the occasional un-vacation. The rest of the time, I wait in The Constant.”

“Konsten in the Constant,” Angela noted.

“The powers that be do like their puns,” Jodie acknowledged. “If you don’t have a job for me, though...”

“Why weren’t you called up in 2109?” Leona asked, though more to herself. “That’s when Xearea went out of commission, because she was trapped on Tribulation Island. If you existed, you should have been able to fill in for her the whole time.”

“I’m afraid I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Jodie apologized.

“It’s Arcadia,” Mateo began to explain. “She trapped a bunch of people on another planet. Younger versions of the two of us are there right now.” He pointed to himself and his wife. “We were later assigned to fill in for her ourselves. I was responsible for 2121, 2122, and 2123. She had 2118, 2119, and 2120.”

Leona stepped forward. “That’s right. She must have planned that all along, and arranged for Jodie here to not be called to action.”

Jodie was upset. “That is my entire purpose in this world. Had I know that there was a gap in service, I would have found a way to close it.”

“It’s okay,” Mateo assured her. “We took care of it.”

“But not forever,” Leona reminded him. “Lincoln is doing it right now. “He got last year, this year, and next year. After that, Arcadia runs out of people. I talked to her about it once, she said that all the years until 2159 are shit out of luck.”

“Not if I have anything to say about it,” Jodie said, determined.

“This must be why we’re here,” Jeremy figured. “Arcadia managed to keep Jodie in the Constant so she couldn’t do what she does, but we’re a loophole. She doesn’t know this team exists, or I mean, she doesn’t know what we do.”

Mateo nodded. “We’ll get you back to your reality, so that you may take the baton from Lincoln.”

“What do you mean?” Jodie asked. “Are we in a different reality?”

“That’s how we got you out,” Leona told her, “or rather, how our boss did. You won’t be needed for another year and a half, though. I’m not sure why you’re here now.”

“We think we might have an idea.” Bran looked forlorn, as did Aeolia next to him.

“What do you know?”

“I don’t know anything,” Jodie said. “You’re the one who said I’m too early.

“No, I wasn’t talking to you,” Leona tried to explain.

“Not me, what?”

“It’s too confusing,” Mateo said. “Give her a cuff, so she can see Bran and Aeolia.”

“Who are Bran and Aeolia?” Jodie asked. She couldn’t even remember Jeremy mentioning them earlier.

Angela took a cuff out of the drawer, and handed it to Jodie. “If you put this on, you’ll start to share their  patterns and temporal conditions. I’m a human, so you’ll get nothing from me, and we recently parted ways with our resident choosing one. We will also be able to use your abilities, though I’m not sure what that looks like when it comes to the Savior. This has to be your choice, mind you, but you can absolutely take it off whenever you want.”

“Okay,” Jodie said with no more thought. She put on the cuff. “Oh! Kallias and Aeolia! I know who you’re talking about. Hey, guys.”

“Hey,” Aeolia said with a laugh, but the smile faded from her face quite quickly.

“Why did we have to transition Jodie this year?” Leona asked her. “What do you know of the future?”

Aeolia sighed sadly. “The Constant. It’s been, well...constant, for billions of years. It was designed to last forever, but everything has a weakness. I couldn’t tell you what that weakness is, because I’m not the one who destroyed it. All I know is that it was, or rather, will be. It happens sometimes next year. I would imagine Nerakali is aware of this as well, and has extracted Jodie early, to both save her life, and prepare her to take a more active role in her job.”

“What?” Mateo had been pretty good for the last few days. He came back from his multiversal ordeal a changed man. He was no longer so agitated and anxious, but calm and forgiving. The bliss wore off over time, or at least lessened in intensity, but his sense of completeness remained. The constant carefree attitude would have gotten on people’s nerves, so this was a good balance. Now, all of it was—hopefully only temporarily—gone. He was back to being pissed off and overwhelmingly worried. Family was clearly his trigger. “What does that mean for Danica?”

“We don’t know,” Bran said. “We saw the aftermath in 2151, and eavesdropped on a few people who had some more details, but no one seems to know where The Concierge went.”

“Well, we have to stop it.” Mateo was growing frantic. “What did it look like?” Was it an explosion? Implosion? Tell me everything.”

“It was...” Aeolia hesitated.

“Spit it out,” Mateo demanded.

“Mateo, relax. It’s not happening today, give them time.”

“It was pretty bare,” Aeolia went on. There was some debris; pieces of the walls, it looked like. The rest was gone, and what little remained was, like, pulled toward the center.”

“A portal,” Leona guessed. “A portal that sucks things in, rather than allowing you to walk through it.”

“Is this a person?” Mateo wasn’t feeling any better. “Who do we know that can do that?”

“I don’t know of anyone specifically,” Leona said. “We’ve never seen it before, it’s just...possible. It would have to be a time power, or a time device, because human technology doesn’t do that. From what they describe, there’s too little left behind to be anything but temporal. I suppose the portal itself wouldn’t have to be capable of it. Maybe they simply opened the portal to a location of intense gravity, like a black hole, or a neutron star.”

Mateo sort of stepped away from the group, and spoke into his cuff. “Nerakali. You better be listening in realtime, or somehow get to us. I need you to open a transition window. We need to go to the Constant and stop whatever this is. Or we at least need to be able to save Danica. We gave you this job, you owe us.” In response, all of their cuffs beeped. A time appeared in the corner, counting down. “What is this? What does that mean? Nerakali, just use your words.” The timer grew to a larger font for emphasis, but that was it. “Goddammit.”

“It’s counting down to next year, Mateo,” Leona said. “It’s a transition window. Today is about Jodie. Tomorrow, the Constant. Presumably, there’s nothing we can do until we’re given that mission.”

“I can think of a whole hell of a lot we can do. First, we can just sneak Danica out of there, so it doesn’t matter what happens. We can leave a guard topside, and we can find a psychic, and a seer, and call in every favor we have coming to us.”

“Nerakali knows more than us,” Leona continued to try to get him to understand. “Respect and accept that.” She cleared her throat. “Of course, this doesn’t mean we can’t prepare. I don’t want Jodie involved in this, as she’s too important. So Jeremy, please escort her to the Kansas City arcology, and get her set up with a unit, where she can rest, and learn about this world. I don’t know if you’ve kept up on current events while down here, Jodie.”

“Not really. It would be nice to familiarize myself with this world.”

“Angela and Bran, we haven’t really asked you to use your powers yet. I’m going to be making a list of tech that could help us, and I want you to steal it from the Parallel natives. We don’t have time for diplomacy. Angela, the way I understand it, you taught a medication class in the afterlife sim before you became a counselor?”

“I did, yes.”

“Please help my husband get through whatever it is he’s going through. God knows I’m useless in that respect.”

“What will you do instead?” Mateo asked. He wasn’t upset about her talking about him like he wasn’t here, because he knew she was right.

“I’m gonna go call in some favors.” Leona lifted her head, and spoke to the AI. “Computer, please teleport me to the surface. I can transition from there.”

“Wait, what?” Mateo questioned. “You can?”

It was too late, Leona was gone.

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