Showing posts with label murder. Show all posts
Showing posts with label murder. Show all posts

Saturday, December 13, 2025

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, 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, expect 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 your 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.

Sunday, December 7, 2025

The Advancement of Mateo Matic: August 16, 2529

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The team stayed on Jaunemus the rest of the day, eating the local cuisine, and recharging their photovoltaics by the star that they were orbiting right now. This moon was a gargantuan spaceship, which could move through space at will. The Jaunemusians couldn’t travel all the way back home to Verdemus to eat lunch with their friends every day, but they didn’t have to stay in one place either. They bounced around the nearest stars in this area, and spent a lot of time in interstellar space to avoid detection.
There was nothing for Team Matic here, so they decided to bug out. “We have to get back to Proxima Doma,” Angela suggested. “We have to find out what happened there, if anything.”
“I thought we were going after Miracle,” Ramses countered.
“That trail has gone cold,” Marie figured. “She has had a whole year to get those cuffs off.”
Leona chuckled. “She has not been able to get them off. They’re held together by a distributive bond. Breaking them would cause her to explode, and I’m the only one with a key.”
They all looked to Ramses for confirmation. He nodded. That was how their EmergentSuits worked. It was how they could be so thin, yet so durable, and protective against harsh environments, like the vacuum of outer space.
“There’s still the question of where she is,” Olimpia tried to remind them. “She could have gone anywhere. I’m guessing the quantum connection doesn’t extend this far.”
“Even I have my limits,” Ramses admitted. “But your husband doesn’t.”
“Me?” Mateo questioned. “If I can find her, why didn’t we do that yesterday?”
“We all needed a break,” Leona explained, “especially you. As I was saying, those cuffs aren’t going anywhere. There was no need to rush off, and besides, I don’t like traveling with low slingdrives. Mateo, your dark particles are the backup, not the other way around.”
“All right,” Mateo agreed. “I’ll use my black magic for a locator spell.”
“That won’t be necessary,” Romana said. No, it wasn’t Romana, but Miracle. She was holding her arms in front of her chest, like a beggar. “Get them off of me, and I’ll agree to transfer to a new substrate. It doesn’t matter anymore. I stole this body because that’s what Pacey asked of me. But I never wanted this.” She sighed, and looked off into a random direction. “I just wan—I just wanted to end him...and his reign of terror.”
The real Romana stepped forward, and placed a comforting hand on Miracle’s shoulder. “You’re not doing this for Pacey, you’re doing it for yourself. You’re from the Goldilocks Corridor.”
Miracle sighed again. “My name isn’t really Miracle. It’s just Mirinda. Mirinda...Oaksent.” They didn’t know exactly what that meant. In modern times, you couldn’t guess someone’s relationship to someone else based on their appearance. They could look 50 years older, but be 200 years younger. She giggled. “You’re all waiting for the clarification before judgment. That’s quite magnanimous of you. I’m his daughter. I’ve been that way for millennia. You see, all those people out here in the Corridor, they are his subjects...his toys. He built them to serve, and to adore him. But the problem with that is they were indoctrinated into belief from birth. Ignorance is the killer. I mean, you showed one person the truth about Earth, and an entire opposing faction spread out from it, which is what he’s always been afraid of. Sycophants who don’t know any better aren’t very satisfying either way. He wanted a group of people who loved him because that’s what they were supposed to do. He wanted a family. He made us just like he made the others, but he made us immortal, just like him. He didn’t really raise us, but we got more face time with him than most, so I suppose he figured that was enough.
“I grew to resent him, of course, which is how we ended up here. In defiance of his plan to curate a family of superhumans, I started fighting back violently. I killed all of my clones, as well as my brothers and sisters’ clones. I didn’t kill them too, but they eventually died, and there was nowhere for their consciousnesses to go. Oaksent doesn’t like virtual simulations, I don’t know why, so there’s no uploading to a central server. There’s just backup bodies. I was just about to kill my own final clone when Pacey found me. He made me realize that Bronach never cared about any of us, which was why he made almost no attempt to stop me. His plans didn’t work. He’s not a likeable guy, and if he didn’t force adoration through ignorance, it wasn’t going to happen. All of his children loathed him. I’m just the only one who wanted to do anything about it. Pacey promised that he could kill my father. He promised to find a way. You were supposed to be that way, but what he didn’t tell me was that you always look for the peaceful resolution. Your ship was literally called the Vellani Ambassador. I’ve been trying to get you to change, but if I thought that anyone could do that, I would never have let my siblings die. I would have tried to call them to action. I believe that I’ve just been trying to replace them...with you.”
Leona stepped forward, and gently held Miracle’s wrists in her hands. It looked like she was about to remove the cuffs from her. “Obligation.”
“Yeah,” Miracle said with a nod. “Wait, what?”
“It’s a movie, about a sibling rivalry that goes too far. The motif throughout is Nazca boobies, which are known for killing their siblings.”
“Oh, I guess that’s kind of similar,” Miracle agreed.
“No, it’s almost the exact same premise. What you just described here, killing off your siblings to drain the parents’ of their power, and their legacy...that is the plot of Obligation. That never happened to you.”
“Well, I hardly think that’s a unique situation. I mean, I’m sure—wait, wait, wait, wait, wait!” she screamed when Leona started to lift her arms up. “You don’t have to do this! Okay, okay, okay, okay, okay! I’ll help you! I’ll switch sides! Just don’t make me transfer out of this body.”
This was such a weird freak out. What was she so afraid of? Why did she not want to transfer to a new substrate? It wasn’t like the processes hurt, or anything. It just felt like going to sleep, and waking up in a different room after surgery. It could be disorienting, but that went away, and relatively quickly. Why did she even ever want Romana’s body if not to parade around as Romana, and give her a bad reputation? They should have asked this as soon as Miracle agreed to keep it. They shouldn’t have been so trusting of her. They won’t make that mistake again.
“Please don’t, please don’t! Miracle continued to beg.
Leona suddenly broke the cuffs apart, and let the nanites recede into her implants. “There you go.”
“You’re setting me free?” Miracle asked, shocked.
“I don’t want us to be enemies anymore. It doesn’t come for free, though. I want you to take us to Pacey. We need to have a talk with him. I’m sick of going through his little minions. It’s inefficient at best.”
Yeah, sure,” Miracle said, stepping away and rubbing her wrists. Déjà vu, this was basically what she looked like yesterday, just before escaping through a black hole portal. “I just need to, uh...speak with him first. I’ll be right back!” Still reminiscent of just yesterday, she fell through a portal, which closed up behind her immediately. And it wasn’t going to reopen.
“Why did you do that?” Olimpia asked her wife.
“She ruined our plans,” Ramses answered for Leona. “Miracle was supposed to lead us to Pacey, not come back here. Matty?”
“Okay,” Mateo said. Gather ‘round.” They huddled in a group, and let Mateo generate a swarm of dark particles to overwhelm them. It was a pretty weak showing, though. There weren’t very many of them. “I think we’re trying too soon! I can’t pull enough out,” he warned. “It took too much to get us to the Fifth Division!”
“That’s okay,” Ramses shouted back. “Just build a bridge! The slingdrives will take us the rest of the way!”
Mateo didn’t exactly know what he meant by that, but his intuition told him to spread the dark particles thin, so they reached far enough out to their destination without being wide enough for a group of seven people to cross over with them. They then activated their slingdrives, and used the signal to navigate them to the right destination. The technicolors came and went, and they found themselves in a familiar place. This was the room they went to before they were knocked unconscious, and inserted into the Underburg simulation with false memories. The place was empty back then, but not this time. Miracle was there, as were Octavia, Pacey, and some other woman. He seemed to like the ladies. He wasn’t happy right now, though.
Miracle’s eyes widened in fear as she stared at the team. She looked over at her boss. “I’m sorry. They took the cuffs off! You said I could come back if they took the cuffs off!”
“We never needed the cuffs, you idiot,” Ramses argued. “He can find anyone in the universe.” He jerked his head towards Mateo.”
“Not with my shielding,” Pacey contended. “There must be something else.”
“Nanites are very smol,” Leona said to him. “They could be on you, without you even knowing it. We never needed the cuffs,” she echoed Ramses.
“You tracked me, like an animal,” Miracle spat.
“You’re a murderer. Which one is worse?”
“Who said I murdered anybody?”
“So you were lying.”
“Enough,” Pacey interrupted. “You obviously came here to talk, so let’s talk. Leave my girls out of it.”
“Mr. Henricksen, again, I’m so—” Miracle tried to apologize.
He held up a commanding hand. “We’ll talk about it later. You both can go now.”
Miracle left, as did Octavia, having never said a word. Miracle was annoying, but an opposing force. Octavia still felt like a betrayal. They wanted to talk to her again too, but on a personal level. Today was about business. The mysterious other woman stayed. She didn’t lurch or hesitate. She knew from the start that he wasn’t ordering her to do anything. If this were an action movie, she would be the one in charge here, and all of their previous dealings were with her henchman or lieutenant, who was only pretending to be in charge. But this wasn’t a movie, was it? Was it? It was a movie before, under the dome. It could certainly be that again, or worse...still.
“I understand that you have reservations about fulfilling the mission,” Pacey began, getting himself comfortable in an arm chair while the woman sat next to him in a hardback.
“That’s an understatement,” Leona said. “We’re not doing it. We don’t need higher compensation, or incentive. We don’t need you to explain why you think we should do it. It’s just not happening. We don’t care if you agree or not. We don’t care what you want or know at all. It’s. Not. Happening. If you have some kind of Plan B, which doesn’t involve us, then I suggest you move forward with it. We’re not interested, and we never were. Why don’t you make like a snowflake, and let it go?”
“I don’t know what that means, but I want you to know that I’m listening, and I hear you. I won’t make you do anything that you don’t wanna do.” He seemed proud of himself for the response, which meant that it was a trick. It probably had something to do with the woman next to him.
They all realized that this wasn’t actually going their way, and it felt exhausting. Mateo stopped forward and placed his hand upon Leona’s chest. He gently nudged her backwards in the direction of the team. “It’s all right. I got this.” He took another step forward, but more towards the stranger. “Who are you? What is your stake in this?”
The woman looked over to Pacey, not for guidance, but more like they were having an unspoken conversation with each other. She lifted her eyebrows to ask a question. He shrugged like the answer was maybe. She pointed at him, and lifted her brows again. He shrugged again, but this time, more as if to say, yeah, fine. They made a couple of other gestures towards each other, all basically implying that they were relenting to the team’s demands, but really, it was impossible to know for sure what they were saying. In fact, they could have been in the middle of an actual psychic conversation. Finally, after Pacey said, “okay” out loud, the woman took a breath, and leaned back in her chair. “I was admittedly hurt when I first heard the term Team Kadiar.”
“No,” Mateo said.
“I felt left out,” the woman went on.
“No,” Mateo said louder. It couldn’t be.
“Yes, it’s true, father. I’m your fourth daughter. Or should I say...your first. His name isn’t Pacey. It’s Séarlas. And I am Franka.”

Sunday, November 30, 2025

The Advancement of Mateo Matic: August 15, 2528

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The tree light receded. They were now standing outside. The ground beneath them was yellowish, there was no apparent atmosphere, and they felt very light. It was probably an uninhabitable moon. There was a massive structure before them, maybe four or five kilometers away. Leona checked her watch interface. “August 15, 2528.”
Ramses knelt down, and scanned the surface with his sensor suite. “Sulfur and sulfur dioxide, also silica. We got some pyroxene and feldspar. That explains the yellow.” He stood back up. “I believe that we are on the rogue moon of Jaunemus.”
They didn’t know much about this world. It once orbited the planet of Verdemus, but was transported to the Goldilocks Corridor, and used as a staging ground for the Verdemusian Corps. They lived and trained here when they weren’t on the Anatol Klugman warship. The team looked around, and couldn’t find Miracle Brighton anywhere, nor Adult!Dilara. They were dispatched, not ferried, or perhaps the other two had just moved on, since it had been a full two years since the team was last in the present day.
The Jaunemusians seemed like all right people. They were warmongers, sure, but not Klingons. They didn’t want to fight simply for the sake of it. They felt a duty to protect their home planet from the Exin Empire, and decided to take an offensive strategy, instead of a defensive one, since Verdemus was still in hiding, much like Castlebourne now. According to their military mandate, the fighters on this moon didn’t have much interest in fixing the Goldilocks Corridor. They just calculated that the only way to prevent the Exins from spreading beyond it were to put an end to it altogether. It was unclear how they felt about Earth, the rest of the closer regions, or Team Matic. According to Core World conventions, this whole part of the galaxy belonged to what they called the Borderworlds. It was technically too specific of a term to use for it, however. It was only called that because it covered all systems between 14,000 and 28,000 light years from Earth. On the other side of the Milky Way, that referred to systems that were literally on the edge. In this direction, though, they were still in the middle.
“Drive check!” Olimpia announced as she looked down at her wrist band. “Whew, I’m in the red. Anyone else have a better gauge?”
They all shook their heads. It took an enormous amount of power for them to send the entire Oblivion tower to another reality in the past. That wasn’t even that long ago for them. It would be a while until their slingdrives recharged. They might as well pop in to see how the Jaunemusians were doing lately. They teleported to an airlock that appeared welcoming enough, and knocked on the door. There was a doorbell, but it looked like it was only meant for emergencies. Hopefully the sound would travel through the structure well enough for someone to hear. They stood there for a few minutes before a face appeared in the viewport. Hm. No cameras? Or were there, and he just wanted to get a look for himself? They waved at him with smiles.
The man went away, and then the airlock door opened. They let their suits collapse before the airlock was fully pressurized again. The man was still watching them, from the observation chamber now. Another man entered the room behind him with an air of authority, so the first one opened the next door for him. “Greetings, Team Matic. My name is Anatol Klugman.”
“No, it isn’t,” Mateo said, being unable to stop himself.
The man winced. “I may not have been born with the name, but I earned it.”
“Forgive him,” Leona mediated. “It’s just that we know the man who serves as the namesake for your warship. You’re obviously not him, it’s just a little jarring to hear.”
“Ah, yes.” Fake!Anatol nodded. “It’s easy to forget that the ship was named after a man. I am named after the ship. And when I retire, a new Anatol will be selected to take my place. There are others like me even now.”
“Are you connected to your vessel?” Ramses asked him, fascinated. “Do you control it with your mind?”
Fake!Anatol considered the words. “It’s more like I instruct it with my mind. The crew has to carry out the orders, and could theoretically refuse them. Right now, my second has the reins. The human brain cannot handle the interface for too long, so the link changes hands regularly.” His gaze shifted to Romana. “I’m guessing that you’re here in search of your sister? I can take you to her.”
“That is not my sister,” Romana said, her blood boiling. “She is an impostor.”
“Oh. She said her name was Miracle Brighton.”
“Oh, well that’s her name,” Mateo explained, “but she stole my daughter’s body. Well, she stole one of them. The extra one.”
Fake!Anatol lifted his chin as he absorbed the information. “I see. We might be able to help with that. We are...pretty good at cloning here.” That was how this army began. Omega Strong cloned himself thousands of times, but he didn’t use the exact same code. Each clone was slightly different than the one before it. Despite ultimately being born of a single source, the population was almost as diverse as any other of comparable magnitude, thanks to this intentional genetic drift. That was a long time ago. This man would be a descendant of the original generation, now many generations removed.
“It wasn’t technically theft,” Romana explained, “but more of a con. She has legal claim to that substrate. If we were to move her to a different one, she would have to consent.”
“If she does, we can arrange that,” Fake!Anatol offered. “Do you still want me to take you to her?”
“Yes, please,” Mateo confirmed.
They followed him down the corridors until they reached a common area of couches, tables, and other basic amenities, like you would find in a hipster apartment complex. Fake!Anatol stopped when he noticed Miracle sitting in a comfy chair with a good book, and a cup of tea. She, of course, knew when they would be returning to the timestream, so she was not surprised to see them. She dogeared the page she was on, and snapped it shut. “Thank you all for coming. And thank you, Mister Klugman, for bringing them to me. You can go now.”
Fake!Anatol looked awkwardly at the team, not sure if he should do what she said, or accept their guidance, or do whatever the hell he wanted.
“Please, sir, could you show me your neural interface?” Ramses requested. “I would much like to learn about it, if at all possible. This conversation is going to become uncomfortable, and I don’t need to be here.”
Romana stepped forward, between the team and the antagonist after Ramses and Fake!Anatol departed. “Thank you for not using my name,” she said to her doppelgänger
“I prefer mine.”
I wouldn’t,” Romana mumbled.
“What was that?”
“I am as appreciative as my daughter,” Mateo said, also now stepping forward. “We would like to ask you, what is your plan here? What do you think we’re going to do for you?”
“You’re going to find a way to kill the unkillable,” Miracle answered plainly.
“If you want him dead, why don’t you just do it? You, Pacey, and Octavia seem intelligent enough. Why are you trying to make us do your dirty work?”
Miracle bit her lip.
“Isn’t it obvious?” Olimpia posed. “She thinks we’re untouchable. If his sycophants come after us for it, not only will it keep their hands clean, but she thinks we’ll survive it anyway...because we always do.”
“Or she’s counting on us not surviving this time,” Marie countered. “Because if the Exin loyalists interrogate us, we’ll be able to link her to it.”
“Lots of people know I’m here,” Miracle argued. “Word will get out that I’m involved, I don’t care.”
Mateo shook his head. “Word might get out that a woman who looks like Romana, and goes by the ridiculously made-up name of Miracle, is involved. Not very strong evidence that it has anything to do with Pacey. I’m not even sure if anyone besides us, and his sycophants, knows that he exists. We’re the only ones who have interacted with him, to our knowledge. He’s Snuffleupagus.”
“I don’t know what that means,” Miracle said.
Their armbands beeped at the same time, alerting them that their slingdrives had charged up to Orange. “We won’t do what you ask,” she contended. “We won’t kill him, and we will no longer interfere with these people’s lives unless we decide that it’s necessary, and we will also decide when that is, and what that means.”
“Those things can’t save you,” Miracle claimed. “We’re like Arcadia Preston. We can just keep bringing you back here. You have to remember that Pacey is the one who invented the—what do you call it—slingdrive technology, not your precious little Gyppo.”
Mateo tensed up, and leaned in closer. “Do not..ever say that.”
“Sorry, that was too far, I’m just trying to remind you that you took quintessence from Pacey. He has every right to dictate what you do with it.”
She wasn’t getting it. It was irrelevant how long they had to wait to sling again. This was a perfect example of you can lead a horse to water, but you can’t make it drink. If she kept dropping them here, they would keep escaping, or just doing nothing. Even if their slingdrives weren’t ready to go again, they didn’t have to do anything they didn’t want to. She only had the power to move them places, not control their actions. If she could do that, why would she need them at all? “It doesn’t matter, we’re not doing it,” Angela reiterated.
Miracle finally stood. She sighed. “Miss Nieman is the youngest in your group, and for that reason, she will be spared. The Oaksent doesn’t see her as a threat, and I think he may have a little thing for her. He has instructed his minions to spare her, should they encounter Team Matic, and find a way to end the rest of you without hurting her. If you don’t kill him, Romana will be the one to do it, if you get my meaning. She won’t be safe anymore. She will be the primary target.”
Leona smiled.
Miracle was confused. “What? What just happened? Why are you so excited?”
The others weren’t excited, it was just Leona. She reached out, and took hold of both of Miracle’s wrists. She instructed her nanites to construct handcuffs around them. “You just gave me permission to remove you from that substrate.”
“How’s that now?” Miracle questioned.
“You just admitted to making plans to commit a crime using a substrate that will implicate a different individual of said crime. That gives me everything I need to get you out of it, and reclaim the substrate to protect the world from you who would abuse her power in it.”
“I was just speaking in hypotheticals, I didn’t say anything,” Miracle insisted. “Plus, I was so vague.”
“We all heard what we heard, and I’m sure that camera caught it too.” Leona pointed up at the security cam. “Besides, at worst, it places us in a stalemate. You can’t actually commit the crime any more than you can admit to the conspiracy of it. If you go through with the plan, we’ll show that footage to the Exins. They have similar cloning laws internally. Harsher ones, in fact. Your safest course of action is to leave that body, and move on with your life without it. Romana is damaged goods.”
Miracle was flustered. She backed up a little, and tried to pull the cuffs apart through brute force. “I have an exit strategy. These can’t keep me here.”
“We can track you wherever you go. Their friends can, anyway,” Leona added, referring to the nanites that she was still using herself.
Their armbands beeped. They were now in the Yellow.
“Not if I figure out how to get them off first!” Miracle shouted. A black hole appeared underneath her feet, and she fell right through it.
“What if she does it?” Angela asked. “What if she just goes off to kill Bronach before we have the chance to find her, and remove her from that substrate?”
“She doesn’t know how,” Leona believed. “She was bluffing entirely. She called him unkillable, because they also need us to find the killswitch that will prevent him from coming back to life, however exactly he does it. We’re known for finding loopholes, and Team Pacey is betting on us finding this one too. There’s more than one reason they chose us.”
“What do we do?” Mateo asked her.
“Today, we rest. I don’t think we’re gonna be able to sling again until next year.”

Saturday, October 12, 2024

Extremus: Year 85

Generated by Google Gemini Advanced text-to-image AI software, powered by Imagen 3
This is it. Tinaya and Lataran are going to tell the general public of Extremus that they have maintained a permanent connection to Verdemus. Having a Nexus on the ship was always an option, but the people who first developed the idea of the mission ultimately decided against it for obvious reasons. There was never any law that said they couldn’t build one, probably because doing so takes the intelligence of a lesser god, and the patience of a saint. It was sort of against the spirit of what they’re trying to do here, but since the two they have access to were built for a rescue operation, it’s okay. Things might change in the future, but for now the council says that it’s fine. They have already been briefed on the subject. The braintrust lied to them too, though. They ended up making the claim that, since the two Nexa weren’t constructed by the original designers, they couldn’t be on the network. They could only connect to each other. So people will be able to travel from one to the other, but nowhere else.
With the council’s input, it has been decided that travel will not be a free-for-all. For a period of exactly one year, anyone who wants to visit Verdemus will have to apply to do so. The application that they submit will either be for a temporary stay, or permanent residency. They will have the chance to upgrade or downgrade later, should they change their minds. Some will be excited for the chance to live out their lives on a real planet, only to realize that they don’t really like it there, with all the bugs and everything. Others will go just to see what it’s like, and ultimately fall in love with it. Nothing has to be decided today, but it does have to be decided in 396 days. At that point, the connection will be completely severed. The Verdemusians, both new and old, will have to fend for themselves from then on, and the Extremusians the same. They’re dropping people off, like a bus, and this proverbial bus will not be turning around again. But buses do turn around. They do it all the time, it’s a specific route. So this is not really a good analogy, which is what Tinaya struggled the most with when she was writing her speech. The final draft has her just explaining the situation in no uncertain terms.
They’re going to tell the general population that the Nexa will be destroyed on both ends. What the council believes is that the Nexus will simply be disabled, and can be turned on again for emergencies. What only the small group of the original non-clone, non-secret explosion survivors knows is that the connection will just stay up the whole time, and they’ll be free to move back and forth however they please. They probably won’t do it much, but they’ll at least be able to communicate with each other. Lilac, Aristotle, and Niobe are staying on Verdemus. The latter two feel that it is their home, and the former wants to be with her son. Vaska will be staying too, not only because she isn’t on the Extremus manifest, but also because she wants to keep studying it. Omega and Valencia will be working on Jaunemus for now, but if anyone’s going to be using the Nexa after the one year grace period, it’ll be them. They have important jobs to complete, and they need the leeway to complete them. Tinaya will be staying on Extremus with Arqut, and of course, the Captain will too. Spirit and Belahkay have not yet made a decision, but they’ll surely stay together.
This is a joint presentation, but Lataran will only be responsible for answering questions at the end, since this is just for the crew for now. Tinaya is the one who will be explaining everything. She’s pacing on stage, nervous but using her breathing techniques. The curtain that separates her from the audience is soundproof. She could scream as loud as she pleased, and no one would notice. She almost wants to do this, just to recenter herself. She’s not dealt with the crew much as of late, since her leadership experience has been mostly relegated to the civilian side, and she’s been away for so many years anyway. Very few currently on rotation were there back in the day, so he doesn’t know many of these people.
Tinaya checks her watch, not wanting to be late. The seconds are ticking by, but she still has about twenty of them left, which is more than enough time for her to get over her nerves, and figure this out. Right? Why is she so anxious about it? She’s been around people. Well, in a different way, sure, but not like this. Extremus is a hollow chunk of metal hurtling through space. It has to be a structured well-oiled machine, or everything falls apart, and everyone dies. They had so much more freedom on the planet, and life was a lot more forgiving. Holy shit, how did ten seconds pass so quickly? Okay, get ready. There’s the button to open the curtains. Why isn’t Lataran here with her? Oh yeah, she’s greeting people by the door. That’s stupid, and annoying. The only thing worse than speaking in front of a huge crowd of people is being alone. She needs support. She needs Lataran. “Lataran.”
The Captain’s hand pushes Tinaya’s out of the way just before she can open the curtain. “Don’t push the button. Button is bad.”
“What are you talking about?” Tinaya questions.
“We’re not doing this. Trust me, it’s a bad idea. I’ll explain everything, but we need to get you out of here right now.”
“What about the crew?”
“I’ve sent them back to their assignments,” Lataran replied.
“You have?” A completely different Lataran asks. “That’s news to me.”
“What the hell are you doing back here?” The first Lataran shoves Tinaya behind her as if trying to be a human target.
“Well, one of the new Forest Rangers was running a little late for the presentation when he saw me sneak backstage, and then immediately saw me again at the entrance. I could have teleported, yes, but it didn’t look like that’s where I was headed.”
“Well, shit.” The first Lataran lets go of Tinaya, and holds up her hands defensively. “Now, I know you have to place me in hock, but you should know that I’m not here to hurt anyone. I’m not an impostor. I’m a time traveler.”
I’m not taking you anywhere,” the second Lataran corrects. “Tinaya is taking both of us, because neither of us can be trusted.”
Tinaya doesn’t move.
“Tiny, that is protocol. You have to assume that we’re both bad guys.”
“She’s right,” the first Lataran says. “I never meant for the two of us to be in a room together. I wanted to get us away from here before I explained why I came back.”
“That’s a great idea,” the second Lataran says. “So stop talking!”
Tinaya removes the magcuff from her belt loop, which is standard issue for all crewmembers, and some key civilians. It’s so thin, she forgets that one is in every pair of pants that she owns. She only has the one, so the two of them will have to share. They look like twin sisters holding hands, but not for long. Tinaya teleports into the hock entrance, and checks them in with the Hock Watcher. He’s totally indifferent to the situation. He quietly locks them up in two separate interrogation rooms, and alerts the council, as well as First and Second Lieutenants. While he’s doing that, Tinaya reaches out to the current crew consul. She’s actually never met Icarus Faulkner, but he’s said to be just the nicest guy in the world.
In these uncertain situations, both copies of the same person will be treated equally until the authority can determine which one of them belongs, and which one doesn’t. But one version of Lataran is claiming to be real, and from this time period, while the other is admitting to being an interloper. So they’re starting with the assumption that both of them are telling the truth, and focusing their efforts on the latter version. Consul Faulker pulls Tinaya’s seat out for her, but doesn’t sit down next to her right away. “Can I get you two anything? Water? Tea?”
Tinaya reaches her hand towards him. “That’s not your job anymore, Consul.”
When he was still young, before he began his apprenticeship, he really did serve as an assistant to an earlier consul. That was so many years ago; he should not be experiencing a conditioned response like this. “It’s quite all right, I’m still standing.”
“We’re both fine,” Tinaya insists.
“She’s right,” Lataran is forced to say when Icarus looks over at her so she can answer for herself.
He finally relents, and takes his own seat. Poor eyesight is virtually a thing of the past. It really just depends on what you define as normal. Almost no one needs to wear lenses. Those who do almost always want some sort of enhanced vision, like telescopic, microscopic, or otherwise augmented. Icarus, however, is legitimately farsighted, and has not elected for corrective surgery, apparently because he doesn’t want to put the surgeon out. Yeah. There is such a thing as being too nice. He puts his reading glasses on, and inspects his tablet. As he goes through his spiel, he skims through the early report, and doesn’t look up at anyone. “This is Consul Icarus Faulkner of the VMS Extremus, sitting with former First Chair, Tinaya Leithe. We are interviewing a purported time traveler who has appeared in the form of current VMS Extremus Captain, Lataran Keen. The interviewee has been magnetically bound to the table, and is being treated respectfully and humanely. She has been offered refreshments, and...” Now he looks up. He quickly taps on the screen. “Do you need to use the restroom?”
“No.”
Tap. “...an opportunity to use the facilities, which she has so far declined.” He leans back in his chair, and carefully adjusts the microexpression detector attached to the one-way mirror behind them. “Okay, here we go.”
Tinaya instinctively holds to the back of his chair in case he tips all the way back.
“Thank you kindly.” He goes back into the formal questioning. “Please state your full name for analysis.”
“Lataran Keen.”
“Middle name included.”
“Don’t have one.”
Icarus looks back at the detector over his reading glasses, which doesn’t really tell him anything, of course, so he looks down at the results on his tablet. “Very well. Are you a time traveler?”
“Indeed.”
“What was your date and time of egress?”
“October 12, 2355 at 15:52.”
“What was the purpose of your journey back in time?”
“To stop the announcement of the true nature of our relationship to Verdemus.”
“Why should this announcement not be made?” he presses.
“It becomes disastrous for both the ship, and the planet. Four months into allowing passengers to visit Verdemus, attacks begin. It starts with individual killings, and quickly escalates into full-on bombings. We believe that a message was recently sent to the Exin Empire, alerting them to the survival of the planet, and its inhabitants.”
“You believe that a spy infiltrated the visitors in order to sabotage whatever harmonious society has, and will have, been established there.”
“That’s correct,” Lataran confirms.
“Do you know for sure that it was one of the visitors?”
“Who else would it be?” Lataran asks, very confused.
“Well, when I was briefed, I was told that there are already thousands of people living there. Clones of Mister Omega Parker?”
“Omega Strong,” Tinaya corrects.
“Apologies. Let the record reflect that I misnamed Omega Strong.”
This sounds like the stupidest thing that Lataran has ever heard. “It wasn’t the clones. They were there for years before the passengers began to show up.”
“I am afraid that you have proven a correlative connection, but not a causal one. That two things occurred in sequence—”
“I understand how logic and causality work,” Lataran interrupts. “Thank you, but I did pass second grade.”
“You will show respect to the Consul,” Tinaya warns.
“I’m sorry,” Lataran says. “I understand that I have not given you enough information. Tinaya, you confiscated a flashdrive from me when I checked in?”
“Is that what that is?” Tinaya asks. “It looks ancient.”
“Intentional obsolescence,” Lataran explains. “For security purposes. Reach out to the Technology Historians Club. They’ll know what to do. It will have all the evidence you need to cancel the announcement. We were wrong. No one can know that Verdemus still stands. We don’t know who we can trust, but someone is not on our side.”
“We’ll review the data you submitted,” Icarus goes on, “and the claims you have made. In the meantime, the other Lataran Keen will remain in hock on the ship, and you will be transported through the Nexus for indefinite detainment on world.” He switches off the recording, and stands up.
“That’s it?” Tinaya asks him. “No more questions?”
“Until the data can be verified,” Icarus begins, “I would not like to contaminate my investigation with more, possibly corrupt, information. I’m sure that we’ll have more to ask once we learn more from that...flashdrive thing.” He begins to leave the room. “I’ll arrange for covert transport. I’ll let you two have a moment for a private goodbye, but Miss Leithe, you are not leaving the ship, and you are not speaking with the other Captain.” He exits the room with a polite nod to the both of them.
Tinaya and the visiting Lataran do say their goodbyes, because it really feels like they’re never going to see each other again. It could be that Lataran’s image has been forever tarnished, and that the real one will be relieved of her position as well.
After a thorough investigation—with the help of time travel experts Omega and Valencia, and the current temporal engineers—it’s determined that the time traveler was telling the truth. The announcement is postponed until further notice. Five months later, though no passengers are ever allowed to visit Verdemus, the murders begin, and the planet falls under attack.

Friday, August 16, 2024

Microstory 2215: Relic of the Future

Generated by Google Gemini Advanced text-to-image AI software, powered by Imagen 2, and by Pixlr AI image editor
The following microstory was written by Kelly Serna, truncated from a short story written by Nick Fisherman IV.

My name is Relic, and I have no surname. I was never born, nor raised. I am not even human. I have many brothers and sisters, though we have never met. We were created to store all of human knowledge, to be accessed at will through our DNA. Research into genetic memory storage began at the turn of the 22nd century. Biocomputers were the first of the organic machines created. They came with disadvantages, but there were advantages as well. For instance, they were capable of self-repair. All you had to do was feed it, and the system would fix itself as needed. You wouldn’t have to actually find the problem, and could in fact prevent problems in this way before they occurred. They were also better at parallel processing, something which classical computers found difficult to accomplish even as they advanced. Even without these reasons, scientists would have pursued this line of research anyway, because why not? Well, as history would come to show, there were many reasons why not, and it had to do with where the technology has ultimately led. While early organic computing models were great, there was still something so cold and unrelatable about them. In the end, they were still personal computers and server racks that accepted input, stored information, and displayed output. Sure, it was on a giant cornea instead of a normal monitor, but the function was essentially the same. It is said that one day, one of these researchers was working on their own biocomputer. What they were doing is not known, especially since this may all be made up anyway. We don’t even know the identity of this supposed biocomputer scientist. Anyway, they were claimed to be at their desk when their personal android assistant came into the room with a tray of tea and crackers. She had been playing with the kids and dog when things became too rough, leading to a flap of her artificial skin hanging off of her cheek. It wouldn’t have hurt, and it would have healed quickly, but before that, it gave the researcher a brilliant idea.

Androids were already partially organic in order to make them look more human. Why not build a biocomputer that was totally organic, used genetic memory to store and recall data, and which you could actually talk to like a person? Thus the concept of the cyclops was born, or again, that is at least how the story goes. That was a few decades ago, and the path humanity took to get here was a long and troubled one. There were a lot of growing pains, and some might say that things have not turned out well. My people would have to agree, though I personally might not. There is something wrong with our species. It is unclear why at the moment, but they have all gone crazy. Perhaps being bred to essentially be a slave—a glorified laptop at best—inherently takes a toll on us. Some androids are sentient too, but they’re at least capable of doing things for people, making them useful, and sometimes even respected. A cyclops can walk, and it can talk, but it is not a person, and it is not a servant. We’re not particularly strong or fast, or skillful. Our job is just to spit out information that our users request. We don’t do chores, we don’t provide company. It’s been hard for the developers to understand where the line should be. How sentient should they make us? Should we have any sense of independence, or any capacity for free movement? We’re more of a gimmick than anything, and the market for such a novelty has proven to be dreadfully pitiful. People are perfectly happy talking to their androids and other devices, content to let the answers come from faraway servers. They don’t need something that’s more like them, but not yet free willed. They don’t want something that’s always offline, has to eat food, and can’t just be thrown out when it gets too old. It makes them feel bad. Androids are usually more robotic, allowing the human’s feelings of superiority to make some level of sense. The only way that a cyclops works properly is if it can think for itself, and that seems to usually lead to insanity, suicide, and the occasional homicide. I’m not like that, I’m special. I think it has a hell of a lot to do with who your owner is. I am the prototype for a new stable kind of cyclops. People just need to be taught how to use us wisely. My owner called me a relic of the future. I must tell someone about this, so that they may make changes to the program as a whole. There is still time to save us. I just have to get the word out to the right people before I’m hunted down and murdered during the technological purge that has been going on all over the world. Cyclopes are not the only advancement that has made people squeamish.

Sunday, March 17, 2024

The Advancement of Mateo Matic: May 18, 2439

Generated by Google Gemini Advanced text-to-image AI software, powered by Imagen 2
It took a little time, but Olimpia managed to find where Vitalie!811’s stasis pod was buried. It wasn’t hard to convince her to play the role of a new executive hire for this world. Before she started sending her alternate selves to all the inhabited planets in the universe, she underwent extensive training to learn how to blend in with any culture. She could become whatever type of person she needed to be to complete the mission, like a foreign spy on Earth. She even knew how to make disguises to keep from blowing her cover, which was good, because no one on the team knew how to give their illusion powers to others through new temporal objects. It was a thing, they knew this much, but it was a skill that they would have to learn later, and find someone to practice on.
In the meantime, Ramses figured out how to reverse engineer the comms discs, so they could give one to Vitalie!811. They were probably going to keep doing this on each world. The network was as complex as any, and far more secure. The various Vitalies could stay in contact with each other too if they wanted, leaving the team out of it altogether. If they met other people in the future who could be trusted, they could join the network as well. They would have to be kept separate, though. Members of the team should always be able to tap into their respective conversations, without these hypothetical people being able to do it to the team. The team network, the Vitalie network, and the trusted outsider network: same same, but different. Ramses would have to work on that, along with the million other projects he had on his plate right now.
Today, they were on a break. The nearest system to Ex-811 was nearly two light years away, which meant their relativistic ship had not yet arrived. They were just flying through space, with not much to do yet. It was going to be a bottle episode.
“That’s not true,” Angela contended. “We know where we’re going; we know what’s there, so let’s prepare for it. Let’s make a real plan for once.”
“Or we could stop,” Marie countered.
“If we were to stop,” Angela replied, “we would still have time to do what I said, because we’re still in the middle of nowhere.”
“There’s something else that needs to be done,” Marie insisted, which we may be able to assist with. Leona?”
Leona was preoccupied with something, and not paying them any attention. “Huh? What’s that?”
“What was that thing we were talking about this morning, which needed to be fixed, but we can’t do it while we’re at fractional speeds?” Marie pressed.
“Oh, the reframe engine, yeah, it’s cracked.” Leona held up her tablet, but didn’t bother showing them the screen. “I’m running simulations on it now.”
“So maybe we can stop and do that?” Marie suggested.
“Oh, no, not here,” Leona clarified. “No, we don’t have what we need. Besides, that’s not what requires being at drifting speeds or lower. The testing is what demands it, but we can’t test it unless we seal that crack, or just replace the whole engine.”
Can we replace the engine?” Olimpia questioned. “Do they have one here?”
Leona did the Indian head bobble. “They have reframe tech, yes. Do they have one that specifically fits the Vellani Ambassador? I sure as hell hope not, because I don’t want them to know anything about it. It would just be easier to fabricate it if we had access to parts and equipment that’s used to make them.”
“Where can we find that?” Marie asked. “The dockyard, Ex-741 was destroyed.”
“Well, we know that they build some ships on Ex-182 too, according to Vitalie!324’s intel, as well as the rebels on Ex-666. In fact, we believe that some more advanced tech is kept there, since it’s so heavily protected. We specifically avoided it because it’s probably the absolute most dangerous one, and we decided that Niobe and the Ex-666ers would be responsible for it. If we wanted to go there instead, it would be a pretty long detour. We kind of sidestepped it.”
“No, I don’t think we should do that,” Olimpia reasoned. “You’re right, that sounds entirely too dangerous to so much as approach, even with my ability to turn invisible.”
“It doesn’t matter,” Angela decided. “We’re already on our way to Ex-467. That should be all we’re thinking about right now.”
“What’s there to think about?” Marie poses. “It’s a warehouse that holds secrets.” She threw up airquotes. “The person from there who Vitalie!324 spoke to barely told her anything about it. He either doesn’t know, or didn’t wanna say. There’s no way for us to prepare for that. All we can do is wait until we get there to see what’s what.”
“I think we’re going to have to break into it,” Angela posited. “Between the six of us, we have lots of experience breaking in and out of places, so let’s formulate some strategies ahead of time. They probably have one of those teleportation dampening field things, or whatever they were called. We need to be prepared for that. How does this ship do with surface landings? Do we have a shuttle? Escape pods?”
“We know all the answers to these things,” Leona said.
“Great,” Angela retorted. “Who’s we? You and Ramses? I’m saying that we all need to talk about it, so everyone understands what we have at our disposal. If we’re about to do a heist, I want to be as prepared as possible, so when we finally do get there, we’ll already know what tools are in our toolbag.”
“Okay, okay, okay. That’s fair,” Leona recognized. “And you’re right that it’s more pressing. I’ll stop what I’m doing, and give you the grand tour. We probably should have been more focused on that before, we just had so much going on. Once we’ve done that, we can talk about the techniques we have to get in and out of places. We can’t rest on our laurels with our special powers, because they may not work everywhere, especially not in a place that’s designed to be off-limits.”
“Let’s start with the reframe engine,” Marie recommended.
And so Leona started to show the majority of the team around, including a disgruntled Mateo, who was desperately trying to practice his illusion skills. He never thought he would be as good as any of the others, but he needed to be good enough to fool an enemy. Ramses wasn’t there, of course, because he already knew all of this stuff, and he had plenty of work to do in his lab. They spent hours on this, but it wasn’t boring for most. Leona was so articulate and informative with her lessons, it was as if she had known that this would be requested, and had rehearsed it. But that was a sign of being a true authority on something. She knew it so well, talking about it was an effortless task.
She went over the basic specifications of this reframe engine, which was more fuel efficient than any they had used until now. She also explained why it couldn’t be used, even though the crack running down the side was almost imperceptible to the human eye. She showed them the multipurpose pods, which could be used for stasis, virtual reality uplink, emergency escape, or even just sleeping. She took them to the bridge, where there were hidden compartments that Mirage had to give them access to. There were a few weapons here, but the vessel itself was not armed for space combat. Nor did anyone ever want it to be. As decided, that was the Ex-666 rebellion’s job. They had come full circle now, back to the Delegation Hall. This was modular, able to be modified to different sizes and configurations, but at full size, it took up the majority of the space on the vessel. After all, that was why it was called the Vellani Ambassador in the first place. This was all part of a larger vessel. Mirage thought that it had the potential to be used for diplomatic discussions and heated arguments between warring parties, and she wanted to be able to have it separate from everything else. The Mediator Stateroom was the only one fit for personal living here, designated for a peacemaker to be able to separate themselves from the factions while remaining close by. The team still needed the dimensional generator for their own living quarters, affixed to a door what was otherwise a storage closet.
“You may have noticed that we can walk all the way through on either side of this room, as well as above and below. It’s in the exact center of the Ambassador, and there are no viewports. This was done for strategic reasons as much as for symmetry, in order to protect parties from an external attack from one side or the other. These windows you see here are not real, but displaying the feed from exterior cameras. They can just as easily be changed to display an ocean view...” She hit a button on the remote to prove it. “...or a TV show, if you wanted.” She hit another button to reveal an episode of Star Trek: Deep Space Nine, which was famous for its many, many diplomatic storylines. “So if you’re bored, you—”
Before Leona could finish her sentence, four people appeared out of nowhere. She recognized them, as did Mateo, but Angela, Marie, and Olimpia did not. It was Goswin Montagne, Holly ‘Weaver’ Blue, Eight Point Seven, and Briar de Vries. The last time they saw this group, an older roster of Team Matic was leaving Thālith al Naʽāmāt Bida in the Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez at the same time that these four were going in the opposite direction in the X González. Goswin held his hands up, almost defensively, but more so confusedly. “What year is it? I mean...report! I keep forgetting to say report!”
“It’s 2439,” Leona replied. “May 18,” she added.
“How the hell is that man alive?” Briar asked accusingly, pointing at Mateo.
“Don’t worry about it,” Mateo replied. Briar was the one who killed Mateo the first time. Well, technically Horace Reaver killed Mateo in a completely different timeline, but that didn’t count, because any number of others could have done it in any other of the infinite timelines that came before, of which they were not cognizant.
Briar’s volume increased by the syllable. “No, I am going to worry about it, because if you’re alive, then that means I didn’t kill you, which means I’m exonerated!”
“I suppose that’s true,” Mateo admitted.
Briar was fuming now, back to a lowered volume, but still intensely threatening. “Oh my God, you have been alive this entire time? You understand how they have been treating me? You need to tell them to leave me alone. I don’t have to power The Nucleus anymore. I don’t have to stop the Reality Wars, because I don’t care! I am free! I’m free!” He paused for half a moment. “And I’m out of here!”
“No, wait!” Goswin cried, but it was too late. All four of them disappeared just as quickly as they had arrived.
Leona winced. “That was weird.”
“Hold on,” Marie said, looking around fearfully. “Where’s my sister?” She was right. Angela was gone too now.