Microstory 2787: It Happened First in Eyrenland

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Uquirapods, and even uquira, are intelligent. They’re not going to be inventing the wheel any time soon, but they do exhibit traits of complex cognition. They recognize human faces, recall shared experiences, and even seem to grasp societal organization structure. They can tell who is in charge, and that may not be a good thing, depending on how much respect they receive from that person. A new farming family, for instance, showed up a few decades ago, and failed to appreciate the value of uquirakind. They didn’t abuse the critters under their purview, but they didn’t treat them particularly nicely either. They didn’t smile or hum in their presence. It was only a job to them.

Their uquira stopped procreating, and simply let their generation die off. The uquirapods moved over to another farm. The family tried to take them back, but that’s not how things are done in Quiratan. Humans serve the land, not the other way around.

A uquirapod can spot the distinctions between a Quiratani, an Eyrenlander, another Bidan, and a non-Bidan. Researchers are trying to figure out how exactly they do this, because scent doesn’t even seem to begin to cover it. Quiratan uquirakind don’t hate Eyrenlanders, but they can definitely tell the difference, and they know that Eyrenland was run differently. The two communities started out about the same, but the uquirakind population was greater in Eyrenland, so scaling up was too tempting to stop.

Since the dead Eyrenlander cannot be buried in his homeland, the burial is happening in Quiratan. His family and friends are all here, along with the Superintendent candidates. As they’re gathering around the grave for the service, uquirapods begin to walk out from the trees and tall grass. Despite not having humanoid faces, they undoubtedly smile, and it doesn’t look like they learned it from the humans. It’s a fascinating example of convergent evolution. They can smile, and they can frown, and while they normally go about their days exhibiting the former, they are right now frowning. They understand that it’s a funeral.

But why join them? Why come to lay an Eyrenlander to rest? Again, they didn’t hate them, but non-Quiratani bodies have died in the area before, and uquirapods never show up for them. Do they know that death usually isn’t final, but it is today?

“They are not here for the Eyrenlander,” Zanele whispers to Jande. Zanele is the only other Quiratani vying for the job. He doesn’t know her that well, but he hears good things. Her family has roots in an Earthan region called Kansas, so they farm a lot of wheat. He’s not aware of her intentions for this job, but it wouldn’t be the worst outcome. “They’re here for us. Specifically, the two of us.”

She’s right. The two of them separate themselves from the group, making it much more apparent that the uquirapods are primarily here to comfort the Quiratani. There is a roar in the forest. All the uquirapods roar back. Two more roars, they return in kind. They do have some kind of language, though it’s hard to parse. Scientists figured out dolphinspeak centuries ago, but this vocabulary still eludes them.

Anyway, Jande knows that roar. He’s never heard it before, because they only do it when they’re in mourning, but he’s heard this uquirapod’s voice, and it’s unmistakable. Pickpocket comes lurching out of the woods. He is ginormous. It’s the largest one Jande has ever seen before. The largest uquirapods don’t even reach an adult human’s knees, but Pickpocket is as big as a Clydesdale. There have been claims that this could happen, but it’s never been proven. Jande doesn’t know what it means.

“I know what this is,” Tamerlane says, loud enough for all to hear. “No matter what you see, you have to let this play out. It knows what it’s doing, and it made its choice. You’re lucky to bear witness to this. It’s quite a rare event.”

The oversized uquirapod continues to lumber towards them.

“Should the cameras be rolling?” Dare questions.

“No, they shouldn’t,” Tamerlane realizes. He steps over to Van. “If you have any respect for this planet, this culture, this species, you will shut them down. Go to a commercial break.”

Jande steps forward now. “Pickpocket was my sister’s pet. Please, Van.”

Van looks between the two men, and at the rest of the audience, including the dead Eyrenlander’s family. He reaches into his pocket and takes out a remote. After he clicks a button, all the drones hovering around power off and drop to the ground.

Tamerlane smirks. “And the smart dust. Don’t think I didn’t pick up on it.”

Van stares at him for a moment, then presses another button. Nothing happens.

“I suppose we’ll have to take your word for it.” Tamerlane walks back to his spot.

Pickpocket makes his way over to the Eyrenlander’s grave, and begins to roar again, triggering all the little uquirapods to do the same. Uquira don’t usually make sounds unless they’re mating, but now the ones nearby sound almost like wind chimes. The air starts to feel different too; heavier. It suddenly becomes hot and humid. The Eyrenlander’s family backs away as Pickpocket drops down into the grave, chin first. He can’t fit all the way in, but that doesn’t seem to bother him.

In a horrific turn of events, the other uquirapods start biting Pickpocket on the neck. Jande’s instinct is to rush over there to stop them, but Tamerlane holds him back. “I told you, this is what has to happen. You say this was your sister’s friend? They must have had a pretty powerful bond. He’s grieving. They’re a communal species. They don’t even know who their progenitors are, and they barely understand the concept of family. But it can happen, in rare instances, though I’ve never heard of it happening with a human, which is an interesting development. There’s a reason the eyren stock fell significantly while we were dead. Pickpocket was taking them all for himself. He was eating them, like we do.”

Jande shakes his head. “He’s dying because he’s lost Laise. Okay. I’ve never heard of that, but okay. But why do it like this? Why desecrate this man’s grave?”

“Something will grow here, won’t it?” Ersence asks. “Something new.”

“Something rare; not new,” Tamerlane corrects. “Some in the past have called it the uquiratree, but that’s just what it looks like on the surface. The real magic will happen underground, starting at the grave, but expanding far beyond it. I’m honestly not sure how the boy factors into it, because we’ve never actually seen this happen ourselves. A very early settler named Irene de Vries recorded it, and she never mentioned a dead body, though she was only one of two humans, so the uquirapod at the time might have selected some other animal’s carcass.”

“I’ve never heard of this tree, or the underground stuff you claim,” Jande points out, “and I know everything about uquirakind. Where did this supposedly happen?”

Tamerlane chuckles softly as Pickpocket stops groaning, having succumbed to his wounds. “That’s the reason we’re here. The last known place this happened no longer exists. They used to call it Eyrenland.”

Microstory 2651: Wildly Successful and Alive

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Reagan jumps out of his seat. He doesn’t press himself against the wall, but he looks incredibly scared of Mandica, and is not relaxing. He starts clutching his chest, and for good reason. With Mandica’s heightened senses, she can hear how hard his heart is beating. “How are you alive? How are you here?”

Mandica hops off the table, and strides over to the mirror to check her back. The stone is still embedded in her skin, exactly where it was before. It’s glowing again, just as it was in the mortuary. Why is he so confused? It worked again, that makes sense. “Was your memory erased?” she asks him. “I don’t understand why you’re surprised.”

“You were a pancake,” Reagan retorts. “There was—oh my God, it was horrific. You were completely unrecognizable. I...I don’t want to describe the carnage in greater detail, but there was nothing left besides the stone. It was perfectly unharmed, but that’s it. After they removed the train, I swiped the stone, because I didn’t want it falling into the wrong hands, but I didn’t think it would bring you back from that. You...Jesus, Mandica. I’ve not been able to sleep for the last two nights. I felt responsible. I encouraged you to become the Ravensgate Rescuer. I helped train you. I...I...”

“I’m sorry for that. I guess we didn’t know the extent of the stone’s power.”

“I was in love with you!” he cries. “Well, I still am, but I started to mourn, and now I’m profoundly confused. I should be relieved, but it feels unreal.”

Mandica nods. “It’s a shock, I get it.” She looks down at her naked body. No injuries, no scars. No blemishes either. Everything looks brand new. It is new. If her body was pancaked under that train, then the stone would have had to rebuild her from scratch, which is probably why it took two or three days for her to come back this time. “We’ll get through it, though. This is a gift. I think I might not be able to die at all. I mean if a 300-ton train couldn’t do it, what could? I’m like you now, and our friends. You don’t worry about them dying, do you? Your anxiety will go away.”

“Their minds are backed up. That I understand,” he reasons.

“This is even better. I seem to walk around with my backup. As long as the stone survives, I will too.” She places a hand on his shoulder, feeling him twitch at her touch.

“We don’t know that the stone is invincible. Maybe blunt force isn’t a problem, but it has some ridiculous weakness, like battery acid, or...chocolate.”

She smiles as she pivots his body so they’re facing each other. “What kind of life would I be living if I couldn’t have chocolate?”

“Stop joking. We can’t get too excited. It might turn you into a zombie, or—”

“You stop,” she insists. “You’re spiraling. These worst case scenarios are not helpful. I’m not gonna go looking for death, but I’m not gonna hide away either. I’m done with that. I put on this suit without us even knowing that the stone wasn’t a one-time thing. Now that we know it’s not, I’m emboldened. I was hesitant out there with Velvet Thunder. It’s what got me killed. I’m not saying it won’t happen again, but this experience has given me a huge boost in confidence.” When he looks away again in sadness, she gently pulls at his chin. “I want you there with me. If Blue Umbra doesn’t come back, I would like us to be partners. I can’t promise you anything beyond that,” she adds awkwardly, “but I think we make a great team.”

He sighs. “We don’t know that yet. All I know is how I feel. I’ve met a lot of superheroes, but none like you. You walked right in here without protection. You are the bravest person I know; probably the bravest in the galaxy. But yes, I would rather have a working relationship with you than nothing at all.”

“And would it be okay if Cardinal Sin is with us as a trio? She expressed interest.”

He smiles now, starting to relax. “She doesn’t go by that anymore. She realized that it didn’t make any sense to maintain her original name if she switched sides. She’s Cardinal Virtue now. People are really starting to accept her. She reacted quite strongly to your death, and people saw that. Even though Velvet Thunder didn’t technically drop the train on you, they’re blaming him for it. He never wanted to be that hated. He may exit the game because of this. You should go see him.”

“I think I will. I don’t want him to feel any guilt.”

She doesn’t end up doing that. Instead, Reagan invites everyone to a meeting, reportedly to discuss funeral arrangements. It was Mandica’s idea to lie. He reaches out to Malika, who has to return from Castlebourne’s north pole first. Elysia left the simulation too, but was closer by. She will not say where. It sounds very hush-hush. Once everyone has arrived, Mandica makes her grand entrance. They’re all upset and all overjoyed at the same time.

No one else confesses their undying love to her, but Elysia does give her a certain look. After the hubbub dies down a little, she pulls Mandica aside for a more private conversation. “Listen. After you died a few days ago, I threw myself into work. After I died, the executive administrative authority offered me a sort of...job. I was holding off on making any radical commitments because I was training you, but I thought that was over. I didn’t want to think about what happened, so I tried to put Ravensgate in my rearview mirror.” Wow, a lot managed to happen in the last few days. “Since you were dead, it didn’t seem to matter, but now that you’re back, you should know...they know about you. They saw what happened at the jewelry store, and the train yard. They’ve been watching you. I didn’t get the impression that they were all that upset about it. I mean, they had weeks to pull you out, and didn’t. Still, you have a right to know.”

“I suppose we should not have been too optimistic about that. They got cameras all over the place. They were bound to notice. Thank you for telling me, I’m sure it will end up okay.” She means it. “Can you tell me about the project? Will you be going back?”

Elysia nods. “Ravensgate has been wildly successful in their eyes. They only built one city under one dome so as not to waste resources on an unproven concept. After decades of play and hype, it’s become one of the more popular destinations for visitors. They have had to start a waiting list because there is too much demand. You don’t want too many superheroes in one city, so they’re building a new one, under a new dome.”

“Oh, cool. That’s impressive. Congratulations,” Mandica says to her.

“Thanks. It’s not yet announced, but since my version of the Rescuer is dead, they might have me become a new character, after I’m done helping design it.”

“That’s really great, Lys, I’m happy for you.” She notices Malika eyeing the exit door. “I wanna hear more about it, but I need one moment before Malika escapes.” She jogs over to her other friend. “Hey. Are you going back to Aquilonian Deep?”

“Yeah. I’ve just been going through my own stuff. It’s not about you.”

“I can appreciate that, and I don’t wanna pressure you, but if you’re gonna be out there, maybe you could take a detour? I can’t leave the dome even though it might not matter anymore. Could you pick something up from someone who owes me a favor?”

Microstory 2606: There But For the Grace of God Go I, Yet I May Be Next

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August 19, 2526. Comms Officer Jeffries is operating the auxiliary station when the call comes in. He presses the tentative emergency button before the message completes, then listens intently to the rest. We’re experiencing a major hyperflare! You need to prepare for what comes next! You need to prepare for— is all he catches before the signal is cut. It doesn’t matter what the guy was trying to say, because there are only a few possibilities, and none of them is good. He doesn’t get the chance to hit the genuine emergency button before someone else hits it for him. He’s only on secondary duty right now. Everyone else is working the problem as the whole of Terminator Sentinel Alpha goes into mauve alert. His daughter is his number one priority now.

Jeffries races out of the room, and down the corridors, sliding against the wall as other people are racing to their own responsibilities. He finds Breanna in their unit, already putting on her integrated multipurpose suit. He smiles at her. “Good girl.”

“What are we doing?” she asks.

“Crew of Sentinel Alpha,” comes the voice of the captain through the intercom, “we are preparing for a hard turn into the nightside of the planet. Brace for inertial dampener disruption. Everyone is at PREPCON ONE. I repeat, all hands to PREPCON ONE! This is not a drill.”

“That,” Officer Jeffries replies to his daughter. “Get your helmet on.”

“What about you?”

“I ran out of the room without it,” he explains.

“You should have an extra one in here,” she argues.

“It’s in maintenance.”

“Goddammit,” she complains.

“I just need to get you to safety,” is all he’s able to say before the inertial dampeners glitch. He’s suddenly thrown against the wall. IMS units have their own onboard dampeners. It doesn’t save Breanna from the lurch entirely, but she survives it. Her father does not. Well, he does survive for a moment. His head is covered in blood. He’s enhanced, but not enough. He should have been wearing his full suit. Why wasn’t he wearing his suit? “Get to the pod,” he instructs. “Get out of here. You need to get underneath the magnet.” And then he dies.

She knows she doesn’t have time to mourn him. He wouldn’t want her dying up here too. Her body is more advanced than his, but she can’t survive everything. She runs out of the room, and down the corridor until she reaches the escape pod bay. She has always thought that each unit should have their own, instead of all in central locations, but this is an old ship, and they didn’t think of that yet. All of the pods are gone save one. She bolts towards it, but another girl shows up at the same time from the other entrance. “Cashmere.”

Cashmere switches her gaze between the pod and Breanna. “They’re technically large enough to fit two people.”

“Not with helmets on,” Breanna argues. There’s another lurch, but their magboots keep them upright.

“You ever heard of sixty-nining?”

“Jesus! Not the time!”

“To save our lives, there absolutely is.” Cashmere doesn’t wait for consensus. She pushes Breanna into the pod. Then she gets on top of her facing the opposite direction, filling in the space between her Breanna’s legs with her helmet. “You gotta operate the controls.”

“I know,” Brenna argues. “This better work, or we’ll both die. Goddamn pods designed like goddamn coffins!” she mutters as she’s engaging the pod. She flips on the boosters, and jettisons the pod out of the bay. It flies from the ship at Mach 20. They can see the planet below them through their HUDs. “Beginning decay.”

“I can see that,” Cashmere says.

“I know, but you’re supposed to announce it. Didn’t you read the manual?”

“I’m waiting for the adaptation!”

“Just let me know if you pass out, okay?”

“Will do, captain.”

“Targeting the northern pole,” Breanna announces. “Twenty minutes until atmospheric drag.”

They lie there together for another few minutes, not saying anything, but just stewing in the awkwardness. Suddenly, alarms start going off. They no longer feel the soft curve of their arc, but the shudder of turbulence. “What happened?” Cashmere questions.

“The atmosphere is too close. This doesn’t make any sense.”

“It’s expanded,” Cashmere guesses.

“How?” Breanna cries

“I don’t know!”

They begin to plummet like a stone, at a far steeper angle than they planned on. Their ablative shielding peels off piece by piece. It’s too early to pull the parachute, though. They have to wait until they’re closer to the surface. “Wait for it,” Breanna says. “Wait for it,” she repeats. “Brace for chute.”

“Oh, I don’t think we can brace any more than this.”

Breanna can’t rely on the computer to make the calculations as its estimation of the distance to the planet was about 500 kilometers off. She hovers her hand over the button, forcing her mind to stay alert so she doesn’t succumb to the g-forces. Finally, it’s time. “Now!”

The chute opens. The pod flips up so she’s fully upright, and Cashmere is upside down as they wait to complete the descent. “Do you know where you’re going?”

“There’s a dome not far from here. The thrusters will be able to push us close enough to it so we don’t have to walk far,” Breanna answers.

They fall and fall and fall, slowly, but certainly not gently. Her mental calculations are slightly off when it turns out they were actually a lot closer to the dome than she thought. They end up crashing into the side of it. The only reason they don’t slide down from there is because the chute gets caught on something. Now they’re hanging, and they don’t know what to do.

“Rescuers are gonna find us six months from now, and will think that we died having sex,” Cashmere mused.

“No, they won’t,” Breanna contends. “I’m gonna figure this out. Just...shut up.”

Extremus: Year 119

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Decades ago, Tinaya and Arqut connected their lives together through a lifelink. When one of them gets hurt, so too will the other. They weren’t sure if the procedure had worked, because it wasn’t always reliable. There were times when one was sick, and the other was not. It was never really the point, though. This is why they did it. They have just died at the exact same time, which is rare on this ship. Everything that they were dealing with—all the trials and tribulations—it’s all behind them now. Their son is technically older than them, and this wasn’t the first time that he had to say goodbye to his parents. Silveon will be okay without them, armed with his memory of future events, and a lifetime’s worth of knowledge and wisdom. He and Audrey bid farewell and let them go, as did everyone else here who deserved it. Now they can move on. Now they can finally rest.

There is one thing left to do, however. It is time to answer The Question. Tinaya has known about it for many years, and eventually told her family. It’s a secret from just about everyone else, though. It violates a major principle of the Extremus mission, but again, they have known about it for so long, they’ve had plenty of time to come to terms with it. There is no way to know how many people answer yes, and how many answer no, because it should come as a surprise for most. At the moment of their deaths, Tinaya and Arqut’s consciousnesses were uploaded to a special server. If they agree, their minds will be put on ice for another century, until the Extremus planet is reached by their descendants. When it comes time to settle their new homeworld, everyone who answered yes will be downloaded into new substrates, and become part of the colonists. If the two of them were normal, it would feel instantaneous to them—assuming nothing destroyed the ship in the meantime. But they’re on a different track. When they say yes, they will be going somewhere else.

“Hello, and welcome to The Buffer,” a woman says warmly.

They were standing in the Attic Forest, though obviously a virtual simulation of it. The two recently deceased are now young again, which makes sense, and feels nice.

“Does everyone come to this place?” Tinaya asks. “The forest hasn’t always existed.”

The welcomer smiles. “You were clearly prepped beforehand, so I will skip the usual explanation. To answer your question, the simulation scans your thoughts, and generates what it believes will be the most pleasant and comforting place for you specifically. For most people, it looks something like this, as we all wish to find Extremus. For you, it sounds like it’s more specific. I hope it pleases the both of you. We don’t get many duos. I’m guessing it’s a lifelink?”

“Yes, and I helped build this place for real in base reality, as did my now-husband,” Tinaya explains, “so it’s important to us both.”

“Ah, yes. I have heard of you. Miss Leithe, right?”

“Admiral Emerita Leithe.” Tinaya doesn’t usually care about formalities, but it felt important to her to clarify her title in this case.

“Apologies. And you?”

“Superintendent Arqut Grieves. You didn’t know that we were coming?”

The woman shakes her head. Her voice is still calming. “I do not receive a manifest beforehand, or even an alert of a forthcoming arrival. My job is to ask you The Question without judgment or preconception. It doesn’t matter to me who you are, or who you were. You’re entitled to answer.”

“Who are you?” Tinaya asks, “Or, who were you, if you prefer?”

“I am Dr. Itri Meziani, thanks for asking,” she replies. “I was the Executive Grief Counselor many years ago.”

“Well, it’s very nice to meet you, Dr. Meziani.” Tinaya shakes her hand, then Arqut does.

“I suppose that you already know what I’m about to ask you, but I still must ask it,” Dr. Meziani says.

For a long time there, Tinaya intended on saying no to The Question. She only changed her mind relatively recently when Thistle showed her that her whole family line has been kept alive in base reality on an asteroid which Tinaya herself colonized and called Eleithium. It gave her some perspective. She doesn’t wanna die. The problem now is that Thistle is no longer the AI in charge, and they don’t know whether they will be rerouted to the colony, or just kept on ice with everyone else. Did he set it up so that it will happen automatically? Truthfully, she forgot to ask him before Oceanus stopped allowing their visits. Do they have to be honest with this Dr. Meziani about their sort of get out of jail free card? In the end, they decided to just come clean and tell the truth. They can’t risk something going wrong with the process. If it doesn’t work, they’ll just go on ice, and still be alive. All they know is that they’re not going to say no. They really want to see the Extremus planet, and they almost have to see Silveon again.

“We have somewhere else to be,” Arqut begins. “A friend of ours set up...an alternative option. I’m not sure how we go about getting there, though. He’s sort of...indisposed at the moment.”

“I can check for a rerouting subroutine,” Dr. Meziani says graciously, “but I can’t guarantee anything. If your friend can’t control it from the outside, I can’t get you there. It wouldn’t be that I wouldn’t want to. Again, it’s not my job to make judgments. You don’t have to do anything in particular. Hell, if you can will yourself back to life in your own body, go for it. But understand that there is a time limit. I can’t tell you what it is. It’s after five minutes following the next death, so that could be any second now. The Buffer must be kept open.” She looks to the left, presumably searching for the path that will take them to Eleithium, and hopefully finding it. She suddenly jerks her head to the right. “Something’s wrong.”

“What is it? Did you find it?” Arqut asks.

“Your time is up,” Dr. Meziana tells them. “Someone else just died.”

“But we have five more minutes,” Tinaya reminds her.

“No.” She starts breathing heavily, which doesn’t make sense given that there’s no air in this virtual environment. “You don’t.” Without warning, she pops away, leaving a faint puff of smoke behind.

A shadow appears in the trees in the distance. It’s moving in an eerie serpentine pattern, but drawing nearer. As it does so, its silhouette becomes clearer and clearer. Finally, it looks like a person, and soon after that, it looks like someone they know.

“Pronastus?” Tinaya questions. “You died?”

“Just for a few minutes,” Pronastus says in a weird tone that doesn’t really sound like him. “The flatline device that I found will revive me in about six minutes.”

“Did you have something to tell us?” Arqut presses.

“Or ask us?” Tinaya adds.

“You gave me the ability to do this,” Pronastus goes on. “You’re the one who helped me find the consciousness transference technology that I needed to hack in here. I was looking for it, but I could not find it, because it was for me. I can’t do anything for myself. I have to be searching for someone else. Fortunately, you never realized just how close you were to it. For reference, it was in a closet, in the first Frontrunner you teleported to; the one where you met AI!Elder.”

Oh, right. AI!Elder did say that there was a cool helmet in there. She should not have ignored that quip. “So you’re, uh...evil...errr...what’s goin’ on here?”

“What’s going on is that I am sick of doing everything for everyone else. I found a workaround, and it’s thanks to that helmet. Coming here was a necessary latent step, but not my endgame. I’m going to send my mind to another body. Bonus, I get to keep my pathfinding powers, and finally use them for myself!”

“What do we have to do with any of that?” Arqut spits.

“You know me,” Pronastus reasons. “You know me better than anyone. Others know that I’m a pathfinder, of course, but they don’t understand it. When Captain Jennings dies, I’ll have to make sure that he also answers no. I know what you’re thinking, but don’t worry about Silveon. He’s too preoccupied with his own life, I don’t feel threatened by him, so I don’t care what answer he gives when he dies. However, if any of you put yourselves on ice, and come back in a hundred years, you’ll see right through my disguise. I have long-term plans. Running the ship is just the first part of it. I don’t plan on ever dying, because that’s a retarded provision that our ancestors never should have decided upon or agreed to.”

“I don’t think you’re supposed to say that word.”

“That’s your issue? I’m about to straight up murder you, and you’re arguing with me about political correctness?”

“We’re not too worried,” Tinaya explains. “Tyrants like you and Waldemar always create their own resistance. It’s not gonna last. You may be a pathfinder, but eventually, you will run out of paths that lead you to joy. You’ll always want more, and it will be your downfall. Extremus will get through this. It suffered but survived Consul Vatal, and Ovan Teleres, and Mister Radomil Cernak. It will survive you too.”

Pronastus smirks. “Will it survive Waldemar?”

“You’re obviously undoing that timeline,” Tinaya replies.

“Am I?”

“Oh, shit. The clones.”

“The clones,” Pronastus confirms. “They were never made by him. What would be his reasoning?”

“No, that doesn’t make any sense. You needed me to ask you to lead me to the Frontrunners for the consciousness transference technology. That’s where I found the first clone. You didn’t know about it beforehand.”

Pronastus smirks again. “I’m not in this alone. Others know where the path should go, and have known that for decades. They just didn’t know that I would be the one to take the first step in the right direction. Eight. Eight. Eight,” he says in a low and intimidating voice.

“What?”

“Eight. Eight. Eight,” Pronastus repeats. Oh, it’s a weird chant. “Eight. Eight. Eight.” It kind of sounds like hate with all that breathiness. His watch beeps. “Oh, my time is up. Don’t wanna wake up with brain damage, do I?”

“We’ve not given an answer,” Arqut tries to reason. “How exactly are you gonna force us to give the wrong one?”

“You have a time limit, remember?” Pronastus says.

“But you’re the time limit, and you’re not really dead. You have to go back in a minute or so. I doubt the Buffer will force us out. I mean, it hasn’t yet.”

“I started the clock,” Pronastus begins. “The next death will stop it. Some overlap is acceptable, but not three death events.”

“How do you know there’s gonna be another death soon?”

One last smirk. “Because I caused it, just like I caused Détha’s. Trust me, I didn’t miss anything.”

“Who did you kill?” Tinaya demands to know.

Oh, no. This is his last smirk.

“Who did you kill!”

Pronastus winks, then disappears.

“Response window expired,” a disembodied computerized voice that they don’t recognize announces. “Answer null. Prepare for IDCode purge.”

“No!” Tinaya and Arqut exclaim. “We answer yes! We answer yes!” Tinaya continues.

“Mom?” Silveon asks, having just appeared before them.

“NO!” they both repeat. Everything turns black.

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Extremus: Year 118

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It’s the end of the year, and the end of Tinaya and Arqut’s lives. The whole ship is in mourning, even though they’re not quite dead yet. They’re in the same room that they’ve slept in for years, but it has been modified to accommodate their new situation. The bed has been pulled out to be replaced with two hospital beds. People have been coming all month long to say their goodbyes. The doctors don’t let too many people in over the course of only one day, so they have to spread it out. Audrey, with nothing else to do, is in charge of maintaining a healthy and comfortable schedule. Captain Jennings has his turn now, as it is nearing the couple’s final days, and he should be one of the last. His relationship to the two of them hasn’t always been perfect, but they have a mutual respect for one another, and he will still be saddened by the loss. That’s not the only reason he’s here, though. There is some final business to take care of. “You must appoint your successor.”

“Ask me in a year,” Arqut quips. Gallows humor.

Oceanus tries hard not to smile. He doesn’t know that it’s fine. They’re in their nineties, for God’s sake. “Please. I want them to be as good as you.” He looks around in paranoia, like someone might be watching. “Things have been changing. Waldemar is gaining popularity.”

“We knew he would,” Tinaya says. “He’s a populist.”

“Yeah, but...please,” Oceanus begs.

“Who is in third place?” Arqut asks him. “If Waldemar is number one, who is number three?”

“That would be Détha. Why? Are you considering her for the role?”

“I can’t just say, whoever loses becomes the Superintendent instead,” Arqut explains. “I have to choose a name, and it will take that person out of the running. They obviously can’t be both the Captain and the Superintendent.”

“We all know that neither one of them is going to win,” Oceanus says, “Détha nor Pronastus.”

“Right, but second place will become lieutenant, won’t they?” Arqut presses.

Oceanus frowns. “We weren’t telling people that.”

“You don’t always have to tell me something for me to know,” Arqut clarifies. “Well...you don’t have to tell my wife.”

“It’s a little bit of padding,” Oceanus explains. “If that man has to become captain no matter what, at least we can put someone at his side who we can trust. If it can’t be Silveon, let it be someone we know and like.”

“Détha is the same,” Tinaya says. “I didn’t know her before all this, but I’ve been watching her. She would make a good superintendent or lieutenant, but let’s have her as the former. Pronastus has work to do when it comes to policy, not just staffing.”

“So we’ll have two good people in power, and one not so good,” Oceanus determines. He breathes a sigh of relief. “I was hoping you would say something like that. She has to be informed first, though. She has the right to decline, and move forward with her bid for the captaincy.”

“Well...” Arqut begins. “Bring her to us.”

“She’s not on the schedule,” Audrey warns from the corner.

“Who is?”

“Head Councillor Crusan,” Audrey answers. “After him, you’ve hit your quota. You’re not allowed any more visitors, besides me and your son. Doctor’s orders.”

“We’ll see him tomorrow,” Tinaya decides.

“Tomorrow is a day of rest,” Audrey reminds them. “They’re all days of rest after today.”

“Then push it back. The day after that will be the start of our swan songs,” Arqut insists. “He’s right, I should have picked a replacement sooner. I just wasn’t thinking, and honestly, I forgot whether I had the authority to do so or not. There was a time when we thought I didn’t. I have the power to move staff around as needed, but does that include my own position? Anyway, please retrieve her for us. But maybe wait an hour or two. We both need a nap.”

Oceanus looks up at Audrey. “Just let me know when they’re awake and up for it. Détha will jump when I say so.”

Détha ends up not being able to come until nighttime, when her watch as active Vice Captain is over for the day. Technically, once she’s on break, she’s free to do whatever she wants. It’s kind of the point to transition to the next Vice Captain three times a day, so none of them has any sort of help from the others while they’re active. During each watch, they are expected to be the one and only. This is a different situation, though. She’s not in command at the moment. “You wanted to see me, sirs?”

“There is no time to beat around the bush,” Arqut starts to tell her. He’s sitting up now, feeling better than before, but he knows that he’s going to have to go to sleep again soon. “Are you aware of your place in the competition?”

Détha is a straightforward person. She recognizes the value in lying, but is very good at seeing what others know, and what they don’t, so when lying is pointless, it becomes counterproductive. She knows that Tinaya and Arqut already know the answer, so any optimism or confidence will come across as unearned, even though she got to where she is due to all that confidence. Fake it ‘til you make it, except unfortunately...she’s not gonna make it. And she knows that too. “I’m losing, sir.”

“Do you know why that is?” Arqut goes on.

Now she’s hesitating.

“Be honest with us about your perspective,” Tinaya encourages her. “We’ll take it to our grave, which is coming up soon.”

Détha clears her throat, and tries to straighten up, but really, she was already standing at high attention. “It’s a boy’s, club sir. It has been for over twenty years. I’m sorry if that offends.”

“It doesn’t,” Tinaya assures her. “You’re right, but that’s not the problem. I’m guessing that you would be happier if Pronastus won. Not as happy as if it were you, but better than the alternative?”

Détha hesitates again, but pushes through it. “He should be in first place. He’s clearly the best, I’m not sure why he’s not. He understands people. He knows what they need. He has literal superpowers. Waldemar, on the other hand, is...”

“Incompetent? Reckless?” Arqut tries to guess.

“Inhumane? Dispassionate?” Tinaya adds.

“Lost,” Détha contends. “Sirs. He gets confused about why he should care what others are going through.”

Arqut nods. “As Superintendent, when active, I don’t have the power to relieve a captain from duty, unless under extreme circumstances, and even then, I would need a lot of people backing me. I wouldn’t be able to just do it.”

“Sir? Is there a problem with Captain Jennings? Is he corrupt?” Détha asks.

“No, not him. It’s Kristiansen. He’ll be a problem.”

“Apologies, but it appears that you won’t be the Superintendent anymore, sir.”

“Exactly,” Arqut confirms.

Détha winces a little. She’s not quite connecting the dots, but she’s close. Or maybe she’s there, but she doesn’t want to assume.

“We need you,” Tinaya says. “We need you to take his place, so you can be in a position to help when the day comes that this ship requires an active Superintendent again. As he said, you can’t remove a captain, but maybe you could move enough other people around, and gather enough support.”

“You’re planning a future coup,” Détha argues. “You won’t even be around to suffer any consequences.”

Tinaya sighs. “There are things we know about the future. I’m breaking laws just by telling you that, and I won’t say anything more, except that you are a variable that we didn’t see. Perhaps...you can make things better. Based on your track record, I don’t think you can make it worse. You and Vice Captain Kegrigia are the only two people who might have a chance of keeping Extremus in one piece. One of you should be lieutenant, and the other the new Arqut.”

Détha considers the offer. “You don’t think I can win?” she asks. “You don’t think something can change within the next two years?”

“You deserve it,” Arqut says to her, “but no. Time is usually fluid, even for time travelers who have knowledge of future events, but sometimes, there’s nothing you can do. We believe that this is the best course of action to take right now. It might be the only one.”

Détha nods respectfully. “I accept the position. I will take on my new responsibilities with honor and grace.”

“Now, you understand that you won’t have power over the vice captains either, right? They’re just like the captain in this regard. If we were still doing things the old ways, you couldn’t veto a candidate. They’re insulated, by extension of the captain. So even though you’ll be starting by the end of the competition, you won’t be able to change the outcome.”

“I understand,” Détha replies. “With all due respect, I can promise you nothing when it comes to my future decisions. I will have to be my own Superintendent, and if I calculate that Waldemar Kristiansen is the absolute best thing to happen to Extremus, and its mission, then I will support him appropriately. If you’re looking for someone to carry a set of instructions that you write down before you die, you’re looking at the wrong girl.”

“We would never expect that,” Arqut says sincerely. “I would not be choosing you if I thought I could. That’s the point.”

Détha nods again. “Then once more, I accept.”

There are a few minor details to iron out, but there’s very little that she needs to know before she starts her job. They won’t announce the decision for another few days, and she won’t actually start anything until Arqut dies, or if he’s declared mentally unfit to continue. They are considering asking the doctor to do just that so she can go ahead and get started. It’s not like they would be lying. He gets tired all the time, and he’s on his actual deathbed. Technically, he’s mentally stable enough to make decisions, but in a practical sense, he should also be able to attend council meetings. Even sitting up in a chair has become difficult. They don’t get the chance to do any of this, however. A couple of days later, Détha is found dead in her stateroom.

It was clearly murder, but they have no evidence that Waldemar was involved. It doesn’t even kind of look like he might have done it. Only a few people understand his full motives. Since he was winning the competition for the captain’s seat, to outsiders, it doesn’t look like he would have much reason to feel threatened by her. If anything, he should have killed Pronastus to secure his own win, but that’s not what happened. Their best guess is that he found out that Détha spoke with Tinaya and Arqut, even though she doesn’t know them, and wouldn’t have been on the list of visitors unless it was something that wasn’t in Waldemar’s best interests. Murder is wrong, of course, but he’s not crazy to hold these fears. They are plotting against him, just probably not in the way that he thought. Or she confessed to him, either beforehand, which led to the murder, or during the violent act, as a desperate plea for her life. So they don’t know what he knows. It doesn’t matter for long, though, because Arqut and Tinaya die at the exact same time just a few weeks later anyway. They never found a new superintendent.

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The Advancement of Mateo Matic: August 1, 2514

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Ramses posited that the temporal energy that Boyd had absorbed when he blew up the crystal with lemon juice was basically all that was holding him together. Even after Mateo resurrected him from the afterlife simulation, he could not be saved forever. He knew this. Leona knew this. She also knew that it was only a matter of time before it killed him anyway, whether he was drained of the power or not. Temporal energy is really just time itself. You can have an excess of it, but if not properly stored, it will leak out as time passes, and that would have been the end of Boyd Maestri. She chose to not let his sacrifice go to waste, and to restore their own powers so that they could go on with the mission that he was intending to help them with. The role he was going to serve on the team now fell to Mateo. That was a problem for the future, though. Right now, they were going to honor their frenemy with a proper burial.

Everyone was here already. They were just waiting on Ramses, who was working on something in his lab. Mateo looked over at his daughter awkwardly. She glanced back at him, but quickly turned away again. He tried to look away too, but returned. She did another double-take. “What is it, dad?”

Mateo reached down and took a fold of her outfit between his fingers. “This isn’t your suit.”

“No, it’s real clothing,” she confirmed. “I went to Fashiondome, and sewed something myself. That’s what I’ve been doing all morning.”

“You know how to sew?”

“Yeah, I grew up thousands of years ago in the Third Rail. Of course I know how to sew.”

“Oh. That makes sense. I forget that about you.”

“Yeah.” Romana tried to go back to waiting patiently for Ramses.

“I know you’re an adult, it’s just that it’s a little—”

“Shh!” Leona warned before Mateo could finish his sentence.

Romana sighed, but continued to look straight forward. “Boyd liked my cleavage, and I choose to honor him in this way. This is a perfectly normal black funeral dress.” She said that she wasn’t angry at him for not being able to resurrect Boyd a second time, but there would always be that question between them of whether he genuinely tried, or if the part of him that didn’t want to save Boyd was big enough to stop it.

He looked on down the line at Olimpia. “And you?”

“You’re the one who likes my cleavage.” He didn’t say anything more, but she took the hint, and commanded her nanite clothing to cover her chest up a little more.

Ramses appeared. “Sorry, sorry, sorry. I had to come up with a way to safely dispose of temporal energy crystal.” While Mateo was trying to get Boyd back, and Romana was crying, Ramses had to delicately remove the shards from Boyd’s face. It wasn’t exactly trained as a medical examiner, but they couldn’t risk anyone else for the job, or really, trust them with it.

“It’s okay,” Mateo said. “You get on that end.”

“No,” Romana said. “I can carry it myself.”

Mateo looked at her sadly. “Romy, it’s unwieldy. You could hoist it over your shoulder, but you can’t carry it with the respect that he deserves.”

“Watch me.” Romana reached over the casket and tried to grab the handle on the other side. It wasn’t that she wasn’t strong enough. Her arms weren’t long enough.

“Let me get the other end,” Mateo offered. “He and I had our issues, which is exactly why I should do this. You wanted us to be friends, didn’t you? Or did you enjoy being in the middle of the animosity?”

She sighed again, relenting. “Okay, get the other end.”

Mateo and Romana carried Boyd down the trail as the others followed, or walked on ahead. “You spoke with Hrockas?” Leona asked.

Angela nodded. “This dome won’t be used for another fifty years, if ever. We’ll bury him deep, where there’s more activity while the regolith is being transformed into soil from chemicals they added to the water table.”

“Did he end up making an announcement?” Leona went on. “The first permanent death on the planet. That’s a big deal.”

Angela shook her head. “He’s burying the truth along with Boyd himself. No one needs to know that anyone died. Even though people are still allowing themselves to die on the Core Worlds, it could hurt visitorship. His death was completely unrelated to anything offered in the domes, so there’s no point in advertising or disclosing it.”

The two of them were talking rather quietly, and their comms were off, but everyone wearing an upgraded substrate had excellent hearing, so they all heard it. Romana was not upgraded, but even she heard it somehow. She glanced over her shoulder at Leona and Angela and frowned, but didn’t speak to them. She instead looked at Ramses, who was next to her. “People should know that he died, and what he died for. He sacrificed himself...for us.”

“You’re right,” Ramses said. “One of the hardest things we do is keeping our lives secret from the vonearthans. I know you know everything about that, living in the Third Rail for the majority of your life.”

Marie and Olimpia were in front, and had just rounded a corner when they suddenly stopped short. Olimpia nearly tripped on a rock, but caught herself in time.

“What is it?” Mateo questioned.

“There’s a man,” Marie answered. “He may have a weapon.”

“Set it on the ground,” Mateo ordered. He slowly bent his knees as his daughter did, and carefully set the casket down. “Wait here.” Mateo walked on alone, gently pulling the ladies’ shoulders back so this mysterious stranger wouldn’t be able to see them anymore. He did see a man, standing in the distance, resting both of his wrists on what appeared to be a shovel. Mateo used his telescopic vision to zoom in. “It’s Halifax.”

“Really?” Leona asked. She walked forward to get a look for herself.

“I recognize that name from the list,” Olimpia said.

“He’s The Gravedigger,” Mateo replied. “We’ve not seen him in a long time.” He looked back at Romana. “Not since the Third Rail.” He grabbed the casket again. “Let’s go. He’s no threat.”

They continued on their way. Halifax waited patiently where they first saw him. He was chewing on sunflower seeds, and spitting the shells off to the side. “I expected you sooner! Why didn’t you teleport here?”

“It’s a funeral procession,” Mateo explained. “You can’t teleport through a funeral procession.”

“No, s’pose not.”

“What are you doing here?” Mateo asked him.

“I’m here for him.” Halifax nodded at the body.

“Not many work orders from this time period, I would guess,” Mateo mused.

“Nope,” Halifax replied matter-of-factly.

“So he’s never coming back?” Leona asked.

Halifax took a beat. “No,” he answered solemnly. “He’ll be in good company,” he added after Mateo exchanged a look with Romana. The Cemetery magically appeared behind him, including a new open grave right behind him, and a second one a few meters away, which was alarming.

“Can we still do a green burial?” Romana asked, stepping forward. “It’s what he wanted.

“Is there any other kind?” Halifax responded.

Romana knelt down and started to unlock the casket. Mateo reached down, and covered her hand with his. “You don’t have to do this yourself. You don’t have to...see him like this.”

“That’s where you’re wrong, father.” She unlocked the other latch. “I do.” She lifted the lid, and stared at Boyd’s dead body for a few moments. Then she slipped her arms underneath his, and began to drag him out, across the ground, and over to the edge of the grave. She let go only to hop in, then took hold of Boyd again to pull him down on top of her. She lay there for another few moments, staring blankly into empty space. They gathered ‘round and watched her in reverence. Finally, she freed herself from him, stood up, and just teleported to the surface.

“Your dress,” Mateo pointed out.

“That’s why I wore something real,” Romana explained, “so it wouldn’t have a self-cleaning function.”

“Would you like to say a few words?” Halifax offered.

She stepped over, and looked into the grave with everyone else. “Boyd Maestri was not a perfect man. Like many of our kind, he took his power for granted. He made life harder for some people, like Dave Seidel and June St. Martin. But he never really hurt anyone. He wasn’t anywhere close to being evil. He was actually really sweet. And I wish that you had all been able to see more than just glimpses of that. But I’m at least glad that you got to see a little. I know you weren’t happy with our age gap. The truth is, it was wider than you even know. But he never pushed me, or pressured me. What he felt for me was love. I can’t say that I felt the same. Growing up the way that I did—skipping all that time—I couldn’t have real relationships. If I met someone, they would be dead in the blink of an eye. So yeah, when the first man who I could be honest with took an interest, I fell for him. As I said, he took his powers for granted, but he didn’t treat me the same. He was respectful, and kind, and he recognized my boundaries. I—” she stammered. “That’s it.” She stepped backwards, away from the grave.

“Anyone else?” Halifax asked.

Mateo was already pretty close to the grave, but he stepped closer, letting the toes of his shoes hover over the edge. “I forgive you.”

Romana hadn’t cried this whole time, but now she snapped her eyes shut, and scrunched her cheeks up, trying to hold the tears back, even though she knew that no one expected that of her. She buried her face in the safety of Olimpia’s bosom. Suddenly. Ellie Underhill climbed out of the second open grave. She tried to clap the dirt off of her hands, and wiped them on her skirt. Without saying anything first, she began to sing, “I just found a lemon tree. It’s a bad day for my enemies. Yes, there’s sugar water in the breeze, and I’m ready, I’m ready. So someone play guitar for me. I’m ready to leave my body.”

It was at this point that Olimpia pulled off her necklace, and joined in. “And oh, this could be rage. We’re flying to the space between the lies we told, and find the good in every soul is all connected energy, or how would I know you were thinking of me in the tree?” Only two of them were singing, but with Olimpia’s echo powers, it sounded more like a small chorus. They went on with the song, but skipped the instrumental break, since they were singing a capella. When they ended with the final two lines, “when all of the lights remain, this is all that our time contains,” Olimpia belted it out. Her voice roared up into the sky, and apparently tore a hole in spacetime. The Time Shriek answered back, echoing in its own way, just as Olimpia could.

Romana smiled as she wiped more tears from her eyes. “Boyd loved that scream. He thought it was so cool that so many people from so far away could hear the same thing.”

“You got to know him better than I realized,” Mateo said, wrapping his arms around her. “I’m sorry I didn’t make it easy on you.”

“It’s okay,” she assured him. “I understand. Or rather I don’t understand what it’s like to be a parent. But I will soon.” She smiled, and placed her palm on her belly.”

“No,” Mateo said, struck with dread, trying his best not to faint, or shout in rage.

“No, I’m kidding!” Romana said apologetically.

“Oh, god...dammit! Don’t do that to me!”

“Or me,” Ramses agreed surprisingly. “We would have to uninstall your EmergentSuit.” He looked around at the rest of the ladies. “That goes for all of you. I wouldn’t otherwise have the right to know if you’re pregnant, but...”

“We get it,” Marie said to him. “We’ll let ya know.”

“Thanks for coming, Ellie,” Leona said. “That was a very thoughtful and beautiful gift.”

“That wasn’t your gift,” Ellie said. “I just like to make an entrance.” She reached into her pocket. “This is your gift.” She pulled out a smooth red stone. Or was it made of glass? It looked familiar, but no one could place it right away. “The angry Russian I took it from wasn’t happy, but he and his daughter will be fine. I moved them somewhere safe.”

“The cap of the Insulator of Life,” Ramses exclaimed. “We’ve been wondering how those two got separated, and where this has been.”

“St. Petersburg, I guess.” Ellie looked from one to another, to another, but only with her eyes. “Is anyone gonna take this from my hand, errr...?”

Angela happened to be the closest, so she accepted it.

“Forgive me, but...this was a funeral gift?” Leona questioned. “Do they have those in Fort Underhill? I didn’t even think you had death.”

“No, it’s a wedding gift,” Ellie contended. She looked around at them again, but with her head this time. “Wait, what year is this?” She reached out and grabbed Leona’s wrist so she could look at her watch. “Whoops! Better go! Forget I said anything!” She ran off and hopped back into the portal grave.

“Well,” Olimpia said with a sigh. “I guess the cat’s out of the bag.” She reached into her own pockets, and pulled out two diamond rings. She held them in front of her. “Mateo and Leona Matic...will you marry me?”

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