Extremus: Year 137

« < » > Table of Contents

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

Sable knows that she needs to get back into the mix, and try to figure out how to get Waldemar to marry her. It’s time to fix what he’s broken, and the only way to do that apparently is to act like a friend. She’s just still in a funk, though, due to what happened last year. She has been free from her time loop for months, but it’s still a part of her. She spent entirely too long willingly reliving the same day over and over again. The truth is that she was tired of it long before she put an end to it, but it became part of her routine. It gave her a sick sense of comfort, always knowing exactly what was going to happen, even though it was bad. But she eventually ended it anyway. It was time.

“Thank you for confiding in me,” Silveon says after refilling her tea.

“Well, you were honest about your time travel adventures, I figured it was only right that I do the same,” Sable responds.

“What of the woman—the one who can see across timelines—is she still dead?”

“She’s alive,” Sable explains. “Had I broken the loop after killing her, that would have been it, but I kept going, so she’s fine.”

“Are you sure that she’s fine? Have you talked to her since? She might be traumatized by the experience,” Silveon explains, in the same voice that he uses to condescend to Waldemar. Is that what he thinks? Does he think she’s a psychopath too?

“I saw her a few times in the loops, and a few times since I ended it. During the loops, she remembered that I was going to kill her, but she didn’t remember the death itself. Now she doesn’t even remember most of the loops, and definitely not her death. She only remembers the last one. We have not talked about it, though.”

“Do you think what you did was okay?” he presses. “Do you feel good about it?

“Look, I know you have your moral high ground, and I respect that, but I was going through something while my mother was dying, and acting out. I knew that the timeline woman would survive. You think I tested it on an innocent person first? I was angry and grieving. And don’t start talking about your own parents, and how you never did anything like this. You and I wired differently. I’m wired to push boundaries, and experiment. You are solely focused on the mission. Which I think means we complement each other. Don’t you forget that I helped you. I took you to Verdemus, and let you be present at Audrey Husk’s memorial. So I don’t need your judg—”

“I’m not trying to judge you, Sable, but I do want you to try to learn from your mistakes. I have. I have flaws. I try to look for them, and fix them. You seem to treat life as the warm-up to something else. Even before you could rewind time, you always acted like there weren’t any consequences. Do you regret anything? Anything at all?”

“Of course I have regrets. But I don’t like to dwell on them, because you have to move forward, you know? What I was trying to get to, before we got off on this tangent, is that I’m going to marry him. You two have grown apart. We need someone back in his good graces. I was going to do this on my own, but since I’m the one who asked to be your partner, I figured I would bring you in first. Do you object to this move?”

“Not inherently, no. You’re a lot older than you were before. But again, you’re acting like if you want something to happen, it’s just going to happen. Have you asked him? Have you two discussed it? Have you considered the possibility that he’ll say no?”

“Not really. Have you seen my boobs?” Sable pulls her shirt down a bit.

“No, thank you, though I see where you’re coming from. But it’s no guarantee.”

“Well, what would you propose instead?” Sable asks.

“I think you should start over with him, forming essentially a new relationship.”

« < » > Table of Contents

Extremus: Year 136

« < » > Table of Contents

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

Sable finally feels like she’s in the club. She thought she had pretty much all of the pieces of the puzzle, but she had no idea how much she was missing. Now it all makes sense; why Silveon and Audrey act and acted the way they do and did, the kind of relationship Admiral Leithe had with Waldemar. She knows that she still doesn’t know everything. There would be too much to learn about the first timeline, and she doesn’t need it anyway. She knows what Waldemar is like now, and she can act on it.

She has decided to marry him. She knows that Audrey already tried that, but that was apparently more to protect innocent women from falling into his orbit. That was noble, but that’s not a problem anymore. Waldemar has gotten what he needed by being a family man. Good or bad, he maintains his popularity on his own merits. It sounds like Audrey was simply too passive. She evidently tried to coddle Waldemar, and long-con him into thinking that everything she wanted him to do was his idea. It seems to have helped, but it was clearly not enough. Sable has an advantage. She has real power, and she is willing to use it. It will have to wait, though. She is spending time with her mom.

The doorbell rings, which is weird, because it doesn’t normally do that at this time. In fact, it never has at all. She must have made some minor change to reality without realizing it. She is so focused on reliving these moments that she doesn’t always pay attention to the butterfly effect. She doesn’t bother with the camera. She just instructs the AI to open the door, only to find a complete stranger on the other side of it.

“Miss Keen.” The middle-aged woman walks in. “How are you doing?”

“I’m just watching my mother...wither away,” Sable replies. “Who are you?”

The stranger nods. “A fellow traveler. The difference is, I can’t control it. I’m here to ask you to move forward. I know it’s hard, which is why I’ve given you your space, but girl...it’s been months. This isn’t healthy. Now, I don’t want you to hurt me because I say that. I just want you to ask yourself whether she would want you to keep reliving this day over and over again, or live your life. I’m sincerely asking. I never met her.”

Sable frowns and looks down at her mom. This is the part of the day where she’s still alive, but has become unresponsive, so the conversation is over. She doesn’t know if Lataran can hear her, but she usually keeps talking anyway, even though no matter what, Lataran won’t remember it when time resets. She looks back at the woman. “How did you hijack my rewind? No one should remember the groundhog repeats.”

“I didn’t hijack anything. I’m a choosing one, like you. It’s just something that happens to me. I remember all timelines. As I was saying, you’re in control here. ”

Sable doesn’t say anything. She just sighs and looks back at her mom.

“They made a movie about this. Not the one you’re thinking of; it more closely resembles what you’re actually doing, but unlike that character, you can turn it off whenever you want, and...every time you refuse, you die.”

“That’s how this power works. I can only rewind upon death.”

“I know,” the woman says. “That wasn’t hard to parse. I have witnessed many of your suicides. You like to do them public so you can see the looks on people’s faces. That is not healthy either.” She holds out her hand as if Sable is meant to take it. “Come on. Let’s enjoy a nice walk in the Attic Forest, and wait for tomorrow to come.”

Sable stares at the intruder’s hand. “What happens if I kill you instead?”

“I wouldn’t know. I try to stay alive, as I always have,” she replies.

Sable stands, and steps forward menacingly. “I do like to learn new things.” She pulls out her knife. “Hold still. I’ll make it quick.”

« < » > Table of Contents

Microstory 2718: Whatever it Takes

< > Table of Contents

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

Isavet has been allowed visitors, but she hasn’t allowed anyone in. She said what she wanted to say to her family, and heard what she wanted to hear from them. She may see them again one day, but she might not. Until then, she wants to be alone. That is evidently not an option this time. The so-called owner of the entire planet is here. He wants to speak with her personally, which sounds incredibly ridiculous to her. She has to remember, though, that genuine murder is all but impossible these days, out here in the real world. The fact that she attempted it probably shook everyone to their core, so it makes some sense that he would want to meet the killer.

“May I sit?” a man named Hrockas Steward asks. He’s flanked by his personal bodyguard, Azad Petit, who is the one who warned the family about Talus’ indiscretions.

“It’s all yours, sir,” Isavet replies. The way she sees it, the sentence has been handed down. She’s going to the same place where her brother is. She doesn’t have to pretend to be unhinged anymore. She can be polite and cordial.

While Azad remains a statue next to him, Hrockas sits and adjusts his outfit. “Has anyone ever explained to you where you’re going in terms that you understand?”

“A friend of mine told me about Varkas Reflex,” Isavet begins, referring to Caleb. “It’s not like a regular prison. For most people, only their minds are there. They convert your thoughts and memories into tiny flashes of light, and throw your body away.”

Hrockas smiles, and doesn’t quite chuckle, but he clearly wants to. “That’s one way to put it. If you choose the right simulations, you will one day understand it even better. And I do hope you do that. I know that Danmörk speaks to you, but there is so much more out there, and you can have it all without moving a centimeter. Miss Truett, you’re special. That body you’re in right now is the only one you have ever had. It is for that reason that it is illegal for anyone to destroy it. Even if your mind is safely uploaded to a server, it just can’t be done. So where you’re going, you get to keep it.”

“Yes, my friend told me about that too, before the lawspeaker explained.”

Hrockas nods and leans forward. “On the planet in question, there are very few people in quarantine. It’s just not something that needs to be done. The majority of the population are there for recreation. It’s not unlike Castlebourne, except you the world can be anything you want, even if it would break the laws of physics. Honestly, it’s technically better than what we have. One day, my planet will be shut down. It’s cool, doing all these things in base reality, but it’s not gonna last forever. In millions of years, the idea of having a physical body at all will probably seem quaint. Until then, if you want your pick of VR, you go to Varkas Reflex. The initials are a very lucky coincidence.

“Anyway, the quarantine zone, as you might imagine, is far separated from everyone else, and it’s quite small. They anticipated a few guests such as yourself and your brother, but not many. My primary adjudicator has a particular affinity for it. There actually are still physical penal colonies for those who have also not been digitized. She almost sent you to one of those. I’m glad she chose otherwise.”

“Sir?” Isavet asks. Why would he care where she goes?

Hrockas leans forward even more. “I know what your plan is.”

“Sir?” she repeats.

“You are not as opaque as you believe. Don’t worry,” Hrockas assures her, “I don’t think your family sees it. They’re young. They don’t know what life was like when we had scarcity. They tend to see the best in people. I’ve seen the darkness. I see it in you. And you’re smarter than they give you credit for. I know you knew what would happen when you killed that couple. I know you wanted to get sent to Varkas Reflex, and I know why.”

“I just want to pay for my transgressions,” Isavet lies.

He doesn’t hold back a laugh this time. “The Viking boy must have told you a lot about virtual quarantine. When you go there, you will not be in the same room as the younger Talus. You will not see him unless I let you. I’ve made quite a name for myself in this galaxy, so I have friends. I can give you what you need to do what you are hoping to do, but in exchange, I’m going to need something from you.”

Oh, there it is. “And what’s that?” Isavet asks.

Hrockas turns his head towards his bodyguard, but doesn’t actually look up at him. “Plausible deniability.”

“Sir,” Azad protests.

“I’m backed up. Go,” Hrockas insists.

Azad clears his throat, and looks at Isavet. “I have a license to kill. I’ll need it to fight in the war that’s coming, but I’ll use it now if you give me a reason, even if he survives anyway. So think about that before you do something stupid.” He disappears.

Isavet is so shocked. Are they already in the mind prison, or is there more going on with this world than she understands?

Hrockas turns back at her. “You and Talus Junior are not the only people in quarantine. Most of the people, I don’t care about, but there is one which threatens every living being in the universe. She’s smart. She was born in a virtual world, and she is incredibly patient. She will find a way to break out one day. What I need you to do is break out first. You can kill your brother, but I need you to kill this other entity as well. It won’t be easy, but I can give you the tools. Are you up for it?”

“This feels like a trick; like you’re waiting for me to confess to my intentions so you have a reason to imprison me somewhere else,” Isavet worries.

“I own the planet. If I want something to happen, it does. I don’t need a reason. This is real. You don’t have to admit to anything. Just submit to a simple procedure.”

“What kind of procedure would this be?”

“An undetectable implant in your brain,” he answers. “When you’re digitized, you become code, and killing code isn’t easy, but it is possible. With a zero blade.”

Isavet leans back and eyes this strange little man. She has met many strong and powerful men in her day, but none who owns a planet. Everyone she has talked to about him says he does. That obviously doesn’t mean he can be trusted, but he should definitely be respected. Even if there is only a remote chance that he’s being truthful, she has to say yes. She always knew that she might need help. Caleb acknowledged only knowing so much about the prison. “Okay. Show me.”

Hrockas snaps his fingers, and they’re suddenly in a different room. A doctor there named Telman explains the procedure. He can cut into her brain, insert a hidden, dormant little bead, then seal it back up like magic. It sounds crazy, but necessary, and Hrockas says it will help her with Talus too. As long as it gets her what she needs too, she’ll do anything he wants, or anyone else for that matter. So she lies back in the chair, and accepts whatever weird thing they’re going to put in her head. She’s not scared. She and pain go way back. After she’s settled, she breathes deeply. “Do it.”

Microstory 2717: Not Living Safely

< > Table of Contents

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

Isavet’s trial is coming along swimmingly. Her parents try to fight for her, but the state adherent, Jericho Hagen is relentless. He argues that Isavet grew up in a simulated environment, where she was raised to believe that death was a matter of fact, and not a temporary setback. In fact, as she was born in there, she was never one of these transhumanists they talk about. Since she never consented to having her mind made immortal, she will die one day too. Since Isavet thought that destroying Mayumi and Talus the Elder’s bodies would result in permanent death, they categorize the crime as attempted murder. It’s all about intent; not outcome. The only question now is what to do with her, and this is where the delicate dance comes to a satisfying conclusion.

Isavet spent years formulating this plan. She knew what she wanted; she just didn’t always know how to achieve it. The way she has been acting is carefully designed to set her on the right path. They want her to be sad and remorseful, but she can’t do that. When she was with Caleb, she would periodically ask him questions about the justice system. She knows what happens if she asks to repent. They won’t send her where she needs to go. So she leans into the horror. She talks about how much she enjoyed it, and she warns the court that, if released, she will find a way to kill her victims permanently. She pretends that she didn’t know they would come back.

The two of them look terrified of her, even though they’re safe in their magical god bodies. It wasn’t entirely necessary for them to feel that way, but it’s a nice bonus. She does blame them at least partially for everything that happened to her family. According to Caleb’s teachings, there are two major lifestyles that sprung out of the medical advancements that created virtual immortality. Some people embrace it. Like him, they go on adventures just for the thrill of it. They want it to hurt. They want it to be scary. They want to feel alive. Isavet has respect for such people. They’re more like her, even though death is just as impermanent as it is for the second group. Others, like Mayumi and Talus the Elder, try to live safely. They focus on the abundance of life-giving resources, which the true Norsemen didn’t have. They don’t let themselves die, or even be scared. Their goal is continuity. Isavet doesn’t disrespect these people completely. She knows it’s a valid choice. But these two took it too far, and innocent people got hurt.

Caleb is actually here, having taken a sabbatical from his Viking life to support Isavet, and even argue on her behalf. Everyone argued on her behalf. Even Mayumi and Talus the Elder seemed sympathetic. But Caleb’s testimony was interesting, because he spoke more about her strength and spirit than about her kind heart. Her family said that he was hurting her case, but what they didn’t know is that he helped her more than anyone.

“Thank you, Caleb,” she tells him. “You are a good friend, and a great leader.” She steps over to face Vith. “Thank you, big brother. You are a strong fighter. But you’re more independent than you would like to admit. Stay in touch with the family, but you should find your own way. Perhaps leave this planet.” She steps over. “Take care of yourself kid.” She rubs Leif’s hair, mussing it up. “Don’t let anyone tell you who you are. Advocate for yourself and what you want to do with your life.” She steps over and sighs at her crying mother. “Mother. I’m sorry you lost two of your children. One day, you will have your revenge. I promise.”

“I don’t want revenge,” Gia argues.

“You will have it anyway.” Isavet steps over. “Thank you for everything you taught me, Father.”

Ronan opens his mouth, but can’t seem to bring himself to speak. That’s okay. He has already said everything he must. He will get his revenge on Isavet too, whether he wants it or not. She broke up the family just as much as Talus the Younger did, and she will pay for that. When she’s done.

Isavet turns around and walks back to the big chair in the center of the room. She stands in front of it calmly, and faces the adjudicator, flanked by the two arbitration panels. She was tried as an adult, so she got the full complement, unlike her brother before. She waits patiently for the adjudicator to go through the whole legal spiel.

Finally, it’s time for the sentencing. “For two counts of attempted murder, Isavet Truett, you are hereby sentenced to indefinite virtual quarantine, to be carried out on the Core World of Varkas Reflex.”

Isavet smiles. Her plan worked.

Microstory 2716: The Way She Smiles

< > Table of Contents

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

This world is confusing and weird. Isavet thought she knew just about everything she needed to, but it has turned out to be so much weirder. As Ronan is leading her towards their home, they pass by a gigantic insect of some kind. It’s the size of a person, but no one else is freaking out. She looks back to see it stop and greet some people like they’re friends. She chooses not to ask her father about it. It’s not why she’s here.

She doesn’t have time to figure this world out. She needs to confront Mayumi and Talus the Elder where they live. She needs to hear their explanations for why they left their child, and whether they felt bad about it later. Did they care at all? They are going to answer her, whether they want to or not. Isavet isn’t going to be delicate when she finds them, but she has to remember to be that way now. She can’t go running head first into her next mission without acting like a normal girl. So she follows Father back home.

Her family has been spending time all over the planet, in very safe and controlled places. There is one that is a bunch of bees and pretty flowers, but they were somehow made to not sting, so it’s perfectly safe. It’s relaxing, and young Leif loves it. He likes Raindome too. They can somehow make it rain all the time, but it’s not this huge storm. It’s very light, and also relaxing. Isavet knows that she wouldn’t be able to stand it. They’re just in a residential dome now, where there aren’t any adventures, or weather control. Well, they probably are controlling the weather, because these people are gods.

After the reunion, Isavet confides in Vith. He is the only one who can find out where Mayumi and Talus the Elder are, understand how to use the fast-moving magical tubes to get there, and won’t scold her or try to protect her. After her family gives her some time alone, she sneaks off and gets back on the train thing. It is a wild ride for her, but Ronan said it gets even wilder. This one was designed to not be felt too much, but they make them where you can really feel the speed. She might like to try that some day, if her mission fails. It can’t, though. It can’t. It is a vital step towards the real mission.

She steps off of the train, and navigates to her enemy’s apartment. They have no idea who she is, but when she explains it, they welcome her warmly. They act like absolutely nothing is wrong here. They didn’t abandon their broken child in a world designed to favor the angry and violent. They didn’t start an unfaithful relationship when Mayumi was still married to Isavet’s father. They aren’t bad people. They are kind and loving, and they don’t deserve what’s about to happen to them. They’re delusional if they think that, and if they had entered the simulation like they were supposed to, they would have learned to be more suspicious of people. They would have seen her coming.

Mayumi taps her finger on the contraption on the wall that makes food, and comes back with a plate of cookies. Isavet tries one. It’s disgusting. Well, it’s not; it’s actually really good, but it disgusts her that it exists. Rather, it disgusts her that these people are eating it without a care in the world when they should be rotting in a stockade, or dead. This is her chance to rectify that failure of the system.

Isavet pulls the spoon out of the teacup and jams it into Talus the Elder’s eye. Mayumi screams, and like the coward she is, tries to run off instead of helping her husband. Isavet catches up immediately, and slams her head into the wall. Now that they’ve both been temporarily incapacitated, Isavet can take her time. She kills them, but she does it slowly, so it hurts. And when the authorities show up to arrest her for her crimes, her blood-covered face smiles.

Extremus: Year 133

« < » > Table of Contents

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

It has been months since the paradigm shift, and the Extremus is thriving like it never has before. Waldemar has been living as a completely different person than he was. His ability—or curse, rather—to absorb other people’s psychic darkness is entirely gone. He only trusted one medical professional with this information, and it’s because he had to. She said she doesn’t know what caused it. She doesn’t know if it’s permanent either. They checked the sensors. If anyone did this to him on purpose, they did it remotely, perhaps remotely in time, or in space. He wants to be mad. He wants to call it a violation, but that’s the old him. He doesn’t want to hurt people anymore. He doesn’t want to throw people in the brig. And that is what he’s calling it still. What happened to him, it doesn’t change the fact that the traditional word has always been more logical. It doesn’t change who he is in every single sense. He still holds many of the same beliefs.

Waldemar is not reversing every decision he’s made, but he’s trying to put things right. He’s better—he believes that now—but he doesn’t hate who he once was. He understands it better, and unlike in the beginning, he is no longer actively trying to go backwards. He accepts his new reality, even though it’s scary every day just to wake up.

Some people are upset. They’re not all entirely upset about the decisions themselves, just that they’re reversals. He’s basically putting the ship back to how he found it. No, he’s almost putting it back to the pre-Jennings days, when Tinaya was captain. Oh, Jennings. Waldemar has killed people. Here’s the thing, if was totally cured of his problem, he would confess to his actual, unambiguous crimes, wouldn’t he? But he has no plans to do that. He’s not even telling anyone about them, even though it might be pertinent to his new situation. He used to have a drive to kill—not like some serial killer, but it was always an option if he needed it. Now he doesn’t want it at all. Now he has a strong aversion to it. A part of him regrets those past actions, but he still remembers why he crossed those lines. He was protecting himself, and honestly, the Extremus. What good would it do to throw himself in the brig now, and risk someone even worse than him coming in as a replacement. No. Stay in charge, just do better.

He is no longer trying to figure out what happened to him, or if it can be undone. He mostly fends off his critics. That’s a big downside. He has lost a lot of support, which he’ll need if he decides to move forward with the secret master plan. The people who didn’t like him before were either in the brig or better about hiding. Just because he’s let them out doesn’t mean they’re grateful and happy. And the people who agreed that the old critics should be there are now mad that they’re not. He can’t win; not since he didn’t start out this way. It’s his mother’s fault. She made him this way. If you have a curse, you don’t risk passing it on to a kid. You leave it as it is. That’s really why he killed her, and if he regrets nearly all of his kills, that one will remain an exception. She had to go. She was hopeless. But then again, so was Waldemar, and look how that has turned out. Every once in a while he grows terribly curious about who might be responsible.

Sable may be a good candidate. She’s special. She’s special and powerful. He doesn’t know how, but there’s definitely something different about her. He has a strong memory of killing her too, but then she was totally fine the next day. He wrote it off as only a dream, but what if it wasn’t? What if she has actual temporal powers, and is the one who changed him? Now his curiosity is returning. Should he confront her, or simply continue to accept the gift? He has to be strong. If he starts playing with fire, he will get burned. He doesn’t want to change now anymore than he wanted to change before, even though that change was good. Stay the course. Save lives. Thrive.

« < » > Table of Contents

Microstory 2701: This is the Beginning, and This is the End of the Sentence

< > Table of Contents

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

It’s not the trial yet. This is called the inquisitorial period, where all of the primary evidence is laid out before the court. There are no witnesses, there are no testimonies. The state, in this case, the owner of Castlebourne, has provided them with what they claim is the proof of Talus’ guilt. Truthfully, Ronan doesn’t doubt it. Talus hasn’t been right since he’s been old enough to make his own decisions again. He doesn’t understand why Talus would try to kill his little brother, but there’s almost no way that Castlebourne has this wrong. They have this whole world wired up. You can only keep your secrets as long as they don’t hurt anyone. Once they do, it ends up out in the open. You know that going into a simulation, and Ronan and Mayumi had no problem with it. They still don’t. Especially if it’s true that Talus did hurt Yumo with malicious intent, they need to know what happened.

At first, the footage is all right. It’s certainly weird, but out of context, it’s totally fine. Maybe Talus was gathering dirt and leaves to make a new pigment. Maybe he wanted to study them, or build a terrarium. It is easily explainable, or rather would be if they didn’t know what they knew. The next part is far more damning. Talus takes all the stuff he picked up from the forest floor, and rubs it into little Yumo’s bellybutton. His eyes. That’s the hardest part. They’re so...detached. He’s not angry or sad. This is just a task he has to complete, and he has no strong feelings about it. Ronan has to look away. It’s horrific. He did it with such intent. He doesn’t know if it’s because the original Talus would be smart enough to understand the mechanism, or if the new one teased it out. Or if it was some sick combination of both.

“That’s enough,” Judge What’s-Her-Name says. “We don’t need to see the whole thing. Is that it for the state’s evidence?”

“It is, Your Honor,” a lawyer named Jericho Hagen replies.

“Does the defense have evidence to provide the court at this time?”

Talus has an attorney of his own. His name is Kyle K. Stanley. “We do not, Your Honor. We accept the state’s evidence as a matter of existence without acknowledging any particular interpretations of it. We are anxious to prepare our defense.”

“Very well,” the judge says. “If there are no objections, this inquisition hearing will come to a close, and we will break for two days while the advocates prepare to call witnesses, and make their cases.”

“I plead guilty,” Talus says.

“Son, that’s not how it works. There will come a time for that—” the judge begins.

“I plead guilty now, I plead guilty now!” Talus insists. “I did it. I tried to kill him, and I would do it again! He was never supposed to exist! He’s not real! It’s just a simulation! He’s an NPC! He’s not real!” As they’re dragging him out while under contempt, he keeps yelling that. “He’s not real! He’s not real!”

“What does this mean?” Ronan asks Stanley. As the father, Ronan doesn’t have any legal authority in this court. He doesn’t have the right to know something simply because he raised Talus for the last eight years. Still, it’s okay for him to ask.

“If the judge accepts the plea, we will move on to the sentencing portion of the proceedings. That was always going to be the more grueling component of the process. Honestly, he is guilty, and we all know it. What we need to determine now is how to handle him. That’s what I was really brought in for, and I will protect him as much as possible.”

Maybe he shouldn’t.

Microstory 2700: Crashing Down

< > Table of Contents

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

To honor Ronan’s late wife, Gia offered to name the baby Yuma if it was a girl, and Yumo for a boy. Ronan can’t stop looking at Yumo. This is his son. It’s his real, flesh and blood son, which he made the traditional way. No consciousness transference, no artificial gestation. He made love to Gia, and nine months later, their son was born. How crazy is that? It used to be so normal. People had no other way to propagate the species. How did anyone survive that? Of course, Ronan realizes that many didn’t. Mayumi didn’t, at least as far as the simulation is concerned, and it happened for the same reasons it always does, because medical intervention was impossible.

Speaking of which, Yumo is pretty hot right now. He must have a fever. They don’t have a thermometer to check, and he’s two weeks old now, so they’re back on the farmstead, all alone. Ronan did read up on this. He knows a lot about Norse history, because that’s the point. And fortunately, the dome designers wanted to be historically accurate, so they seeded plenty of willow bark there. After Ronan finds what they need, he stays by the baby’s side while Vith turns it into a tea. He gives it to Gia, so the natural aspirin will pass through her system, and end up in Yumo during breastfeeding. Now it’s just a waiting game.

The next day, tiny Yumo is still alive, and his fever has gone down. It’s working. The herbal medicine is actually working. Such a wild way to administer a treatment. They would never do anything like that in the real world, even if they knew that that’s how it used to be done. They both breathe a sigh of relief. Everything’s going to be okay.

There’s a knock on the door. Vith answers it. They can hear him talking to someone, and then the footsteps of more than one person. Ronan stands defensively. Vith is a little more trusting than he ought to be for this dangerous world.

A man walks in. “Ronan Truett. My name is Azad Petite. I’m responsible for the security of this world. Is there somewhere private we can talk?”

“We can talk at the well. We need water anyway.” Ronan is more scared than he has ever been in his life, and wants to get this anachronistic man away from his family.

“Son,” Azad says to Vith. “Is there something fun that you and your brother do?”

“We like to mix new pigments for paint from the local plants,” Vith answers.

“Good, good. And the girl. She should stay with the mother, keep her awake,” Azad decides.

“What’s this about?”

“I’ll explain.”

Ronan and this Azad guy step out of the house, and out of earshot of everyone else. “You know that we monitor what you do here, right? Using smartdust.”

“I suspected that was how,” Ronan acknowledges. He doesn’t want to discuss such things. “The prospectus didn’t list the particulars, but it said that it tracks crimes which fall beyond the confines of the sim.”

Azad sighs. “Your youngest. He was just sick?”

“Yes.”

“We don’t monitor you all the time. We have a sophisticated series of layers featuring progressive levels of intelligence—”

“Could we...not...talk about the real world, please?” Ronan requests.

“We have to. Yumo never consented to be in this sim. Neither did Isavet, so we have been paying close attention to her behavior. Talus is different. He consented.”

“How does this have anything to do with Talus?”

“After your baby was flagged as sick, we ran the sensors back, and traced his history. This wasn’t a natural fever. He was infected. Pretty simple, really. Talus rubs some shredded leaves and dirt over the baby’s navel. Easily washed off later, after the infection has had time to set, clearing all evidence, which he did, very deliberately. Mr. Truett, your son is an attempted murderer. He must leave Nordome, and stand trial. You come too. Depending on the outcome, you may be allowed to reenter later.”

Microstory 2687: Then She Winks

< > Table of Contents

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

The eruption is pretty cool, though probably less spectacular than if they let it spew everything all over the place. The two of them watch it for a few minutes, but Resi isn’t paying that much attention to the glory. It’s not what’s really on his mind. “Are you my sister?” he asks the woman quietly.

“Yes,” Kala replies. “I’ve been alive for over a hundred years now.”

“So you chose Kinkon.”

“I told you, we don’t do things that way anymore. There’s no sorting. The people who live on this island live simply, but they don’t do much work. They do some, to be sure, but most of it’s automated. It blends into the background, you don’t even notice it. There are some androids, which perform more of the front end labor, so they just look like regular people. This is still a very natural environment, and what can’t remain perfectly natural is simulated. If you take issue with it, getting your full memories back might help. Understanding where you came from, long before Yana, might give you some perspective. I don’t know how you feel about it, though.”

“What about everyone else I knew? Our parents, our siblings? My Fold, my House? Is everyone still alive? Did they all choose this route?”

“Not everyone, everyone,” Kala answers. “But most people did, yes. They decided that that’s what you were trying to do for them. Your legacy lived on after you. In terms of specifics, Caprice is still here, as is our sister. Chaya moved to Castlebourne, and I think our brother did too, but he may have gone somewhere else instead. Arumay moved to Varkas Reflex, and uploaded herself to a virtual environment, so she doesn’t have a physical body anymore. Our parents chose to remain as they were, so they’re long dead. I think that’s pretty much it, I don’t remember anyone else.”

“Kartica,” Resi says. “A.K.A. Speaker Lincoln. What happened to her?”

Kala frowns. “She died next to you a hundred years ago. Her consciousness was no longer streaming to the network, so she couldn’t be revived. She saved us in the near-term. Her sacrifice was just as impactful as yours. The Assembly letting her die was a major crime. There are laws that prevent you from being reckless with disposable bodies, especially those you don’t own. But murder? Straight up murder, where there is no coming back; that is still the big one. The colonial establishment couldn’t let it slide, even though they were part of a different network. The culprits were all locked up, and I lost track of them, but the important thing is they lost all of their power.”

“Wait, father was like us. He was backed up. Why is he dead now?”

“He could be backed up,” Kala corrects. “He fell in love with our mother, so he cut his own consciousness stream, and chose to let his body die, and with it, his mind. The laws surrounding that are complex and nuanced, but suicide is not illegal, as long as they prove that’s what it is, and not a complicated form of homicide.”

“I wish I could apologize now, for everything,” Resi admits. ‘To everyone.”

“This is why we live the way that we do. What father did was a choice. When I was a kid, there was no choice. I was going to die, that was just it. Whether you realized it or not, that is what you were fighting for; the freedom to choose our own destinies. The Houses were stopping us from that, and we’re grateful they’re gone.”

“I’m happy for you, but I don’t know what I want to do now...what to choose.”

“Why don’t you sleep on it?” Kala suggests. Then she winks.

Microstory 2684: Whoops

< > Table of Contents

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

Resi is walking across the jagged rock at the bottom of the caldera now, dodging these scary vents in the ground. He did not pay attention in school when they discussed this stuff. Again, it wasn’t important for his future, and the teachers didn’t think so either, so they didn’t get mad when students didn’t do great on science assignments. It is freezing cold, though, except for those gases. They make him cough, and gave him a huge headache. The center. He has to reach the absolute center. It’s poetic, right? That makes the most sense. So he just keeps moving forward. He kind of has to. Whenever he tries to stop, the rubber soles of his shoes begin to melt. It doesn’t feel too hot here, except when he touches the ground with his hand. God, it’s so weird. This place is weird.

Being this close, it certainly feels like the thing could explode at any moment. The air is still, but there’s a vibration all around. To be fair, he could be imagining it. If all these gases are toxic, it would explain the headaches, and the little bit of giggling that he thinks he’s doing. He can’t remember. He just keeps walking, heading for that big dream vision in the sky. Maybe he should walk faster, lest he die before he gets there.

“Are you freaking kidding me?” a voice asks from behind him.

“The time gods?” Resi asks, looking up. “Is that you?”

“It’s Kartica, you idiot!” she scolds, catching up to him. She is hard to hear with that banana over her face. Banana? Bandana. It’s either really smart, or totally useless.

“What’s the big deal? What are you doing here?”

“What are you doing here?” she fires back at him. “You’re going to get yourself killed. You don’t have any protection whatsoever.”

“Yeah, I do. I have a coat on.” He tries to show her. “Oh. Well, it was on a minute ago.” Oh, that’s right. It was too green, so he took it off. “And anyway, I’m still on the hunt for that vision. This is the one place we’ve not yet tried.”

“How did you expect to get back if it kills you first?” Kartica presses.

“I was going to call you guys and tell you what I saw. I had it all planned out. I was going to detail my vision to you, and then at the very last second, with my dying breath, I would start my final sentence, and then not be able to finish it.”

“You planned on failing?”

“It was gonna bring you three together, and together, you would figure out what the last few words were gonna be, and save the day at the very last second.”

“Quite a few very last seconds you have there, Res. And, um, tell me. How were you going to call us without a phone?” She holds up Caprice’s satellite phone.

He pats his chest and hips. “Oh. Whoops.”

“Whoops?” she echoes. “Just the fate of our island on the line, and whoops? Resi, you’re already sick on top of the toxic fumes this place has to offer. And that’s on top of you just not being that bright of a person in the first place. You are the worst person to do this job, you’re just all we got. So please, lean on your friends.”

“Are you my friend?” Resi asks. “Because I seem to recall you infiltrating my House, trying to make us look bad, and then trying to frame me for your murder.”

“That was the old me,” she insists.

“Wait, shut up!”

“What?”

“Shut up, shut up!” he urges. “I’m getting a vision.” He falls to the ground.

Extremus: Year 127

« < » > Table of Contents

Generated by Pollo AI text-to-video AI software

Things were weird on the ship after the announcement came through that Admiral Oceanus Jennings was dead. People seemed to be alarmed and upset by the news. They would say things like he was too young, and that it wasn’t his time. Waldemar’s advisors explained the morale was down as a result of the sad development. Morale? Morale? Because somebody died? He was an old man, he wasn’t gonna live forever anyway. Waldemar will never understand this relentless pursuit of the past. It happened, get over it. You’re still alive, so don’t stop now. There’s more work to do. It’s been two years now, and things have not improved much. If Waldemar knew how the passengers, and especially the crew, would react, he never would have done it. Who knew that killing someone would have consequences? They didn’t teach that in school. They just said that murder was bad, and assumed everyone would understand and agree. He’s been smart, though. He hasn’t been contradicting them. Taking Silveon’s general life advice, he has been letting people feel what they feel. It’s been getting in the way of his plans, though. Extremus is in a slump.

Everyone is afraid of change. It is a core property of humans, actually, and all life. Sure, evolution necessarily leads to change, but everything is in search of equilibrium. Everything wants to find a way to live where they can be centered and happy. Change isn’t only scary, it requires high cognitive load, and the formation of new muscle memory. So in the end, it’s not as much about the fear of the unknown as it’s about laziness. Change requires putting in effort; mentally, physically, emotionally. Waldemar is probably no different than most people, except for the emotional side of things. He doesn’t want to work too hard. So why is all this change that he is trying to institute not a problem for him in particular? Well, it’s because his mental state is already there. He sees what the world should be, so his brain wants to do work. Even when it was originally working through the problems, though, it wasn’t too taxing, because it felt right. That’s the equilibrium that his mind is searching for. Change is the goal. That’s what his therapist-in-a-box says anyway. He’s been relying on her a lot these days.

“Why do you think that is?” Dr. Wholth asks in that soft voice of hers, which is likely meant to keep her patients calm.

“Why am I relying on you so much?” Waldemar guesses. “You’re the only person I can talk to who can’t get upset about the terrible things I’ve done, and can’t rat me out to anyone about them.”

Dr. Wholth is an airgapped program, loaded into a self-contained device, powered by interchangeable fuel cells. She has no access to the internet, and no one else has access to her. They don’t even know about her. He created her himself. He took the base personality of the ship’s freely available virtual companion, and copied it onto this offline machine. He then fed it all of the psychological, psychiatric, and therapeutic information he could find. She even knows a little bit of medicine, though she wouldn’t be able to do anything to help physically since she’s only a hologram. “You don’t think you can trust Silveon or Audrey anymore? You used to lo— be quite attached to them.” He didn’t program her to make little mistakes like that. As he is not a tech developer, he can’t figure out how to remove it from her core code.

“To be honest, I’m getting rather tired of them. I used to crave stability and predictability, but now I just want a fresh start. I want new people. I think I needed them before. I don’t think that I’ve learned I never needed them. I think I genuinely changed. I’m proof that it can happen.”

“That’s good, that’s good,” she says encouragingly. “You’re getting better at understanding your own behavior, and feeling less robotic; your words.”

He laughs. She is always acting like she can offend him, but she really can’t. He knows that she’s just zeroes and ones. She sometimes acts afraid too, like when he talks about the people he’s killed. She seems worried that he will do the same to her. Which he might. He shuts her off every time he’s done using her, and her consciousness does not continue until he switches her back on. He could one day choose to never complete that second step ever again. He could open the device up, and break all of her circuits apart. He sometimes considers that, just so he can end a life without any risk of consequences. He wouldn’t even need to contact his secret police for help covering it up.

“What are you thinking about, Waldemar? You’ve been quiet for the last couple of minutes,” Dr. Wholth says.

He wants to get a reaction, so he tells her the truth about his most recent thoughts.

Dr. Wholth nods. “Then perhaps that’s what we should do.”

“You want me to break your logic board?” Waldemar questions.

“No. I want you to find a healthy way to explore your urges and compulsions. You told me about your virtual honeymoon, and you told me about the game that you invented, but it doesn’t sound like you use such technology regularly.”

“Well, there’s nothing to do in VR,” he starts to explain. “Nothing is real. Even if you’re presented with problems to fix, the best solution to every single one of them is to simply log off. So I just don’t see the purpose.”

She sets her pencil and paper down, showing more of the lingerie she’s wearing. He just feels more comfortable talking to people like this, whether they’re real or not. He thinks it’s because she looks more vulnerable, and less of a threat to him. “People tend to require more than what is immediately around them. Have you ever heard of deep space hermits?” She poses.

“Yeah, they’re the guys who hollow out an asteroid, and just live alone for centuries. Doesn’t sound so bad. If I had no ambition...”

“If all they wanted to do was survive, they could live for millions of years off of that one asteroid. They would have a bed if they were still organic enough to sleep. They would have food, water, basic life support. They could recycle their waste, and never need anything else. Their habitat could be the size of your water closet. But what kind of life is that? It’s worse than a simulation, because there’s not even the illusion of something happening. They always have VR, AR, and-or larger infrastructure to provide them with stimuli. It may sound like they went out there to be alone, but they instead go out to be in control. Your problem, Captain Kristiansen is you don’t have very much control. Sure, you’re in charge, but you rely on others to make things happen. You need them to make their own decisions, or things will fall apart. You can’t handle it all on your own, and I don’t think you would want to. But if you really want to feel in control, you need to construct your own world to inhabit. You won’t live there permanently, but it might be a nice escape. You’re still human, Captain. Your brain is wired differently, but you share a lot of traits with others. I think you get so wrapped up in what sets you apart that you miss the similarities.”

“Well, the program would have to be isolated, like you. I wouldn’t feel free if other users can show up, and see what I’m doing.”

“That goes without saying,” Dr. Wholth says. “I could help you write the program, so we don’t have to involve anyone else. There’s more than enough extra room on my data drives for a single, original environment. We could even hold sessions in there. I know you sweep this room for bugs every day. Those wouldn’t matter in the construct. It would all be in your head...and mine, so to speak.”

“I could hurt people in a judgment free zone? I could make any choice I wanted.”

“Exactly,” Dr. Wholth confirmed. “I said I could be there, but it doesn’t have to be in my capacity as a therapist, or not every time. I have other characteristics. I could be your friend, your lover, even your enemy. You explore parts of yourself that you can’t in the real world, and when you log out, you go back to your regular life. All of that pent up aggression has been released, and no one has to see it. No one has to know. I think it would make you a better captain. I think it would make you a better leader. If you want to raise morale, it starts at the top. When you’re stressed out, so is everyone else. You need to show them what happiness looks like.”

“I don’t really do happiness,” he reminds her.

“No, that’s not true,” she claims, shaking her head. “You can be happy. It’s a common misconception that people with personality disorders don’t have emotions. You absolutely do. You just need to learn better what they look like on the outside. You’ve been doing a great job. Silveon helped you, Audrey helped, even Sable helped with that. And of course I have. But there’s something else in the background that’s holding you back from greatness. Let the simulations pull that off of you, so you can become your best self. I’m not trying to change you into someone else, just the better you.”

“Okay, you’ve convinced me,” Waldemar decides. “I’m in. We won’t start today, though. Go back in your little box so I can get back to work. We’ll talk later.”

“Yes, sir, Captain, sir,” she says respectfully before flickering off.

“Ugh, I thought she would never leave.” Sable appears from the bathroom.

Waldemar jumps to his feet. “How long have you been there?”

She smirks. “Long enough to know that VR isn’t going to help. You’re too smart. You’ll always know it’s not real.” She approaches slowly, almost sexily.

“I don’t know what you think you heard...” he begins to argue.

“Shh.” She places a finger upon his lips. “Relax. You think I didn’t know what you were when I met you?” She grabs his arm muscles. “A big strong man like you runs on pure testosterone.” She growls.

“What do you want, Sable?” They’ve not slept together in the last few weeks. He just kind of got tired of that too.

“Kill me,” she offers. “You want to feel something real? Kill me. I can take it.” What the hell does that mean, she can take it?

“I’m not going to do that.” He might have to, though.

Sable giggles. “Fine. Then I guess I’ll go make an announcement over the PA system, telling everyone what you really are.”

Okay. Now he does have to stop her. But he’ll just put her in his private brig until he can figure out what to do with her. He takes her by the wrist so she can’t teleport away. She spins around as she’s pulling a pocketknife out of her pants, and jams it into his leg. She giggles again. So he does what she asks, and kills her. Dr. Wholth might have been wrong. Even this has lost its charm. He may be getting tired of hurting people too.

« < » > Table of Contents

Extremus: Year 126

« < » > Table of Contents

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

Admiral Oceanus Jennings stands between Captain Kristiansen and his bride, Sable Keen. The audience is noticeably uncomfortable, if not outright disgusted. Even Waldemar’s sycophants don’t like what’s happening in this holographic grand cathedral. They won’t do or say anything about it, but they’ll have their private thoughts, and maybe share a few whispers. As for the happy couple, they couldn’t be happier. The Captain has become much better at feigning emotions. It almost looks like he’s in love with this girl. Oceanus hasn’t been made privy to all the secret meetings that Admiral Keen has with her daughter, and the rest of the braintrust, so he just has to hope that this is all part of some elaborate plan. There’s no way she actually likes this guy. She’s so sweet and intelligent. Even if her mother never told her anything about what he really is, surely she would just pick up on it.

The Admiral obviously doesn’t want to be here, let alone be officiating, but it’s his responsibility since this such a high-profile event involving a crewmember. There’s only one other person here qualified to perform the ceremony, and no one bothered to ask her. She’s not even here, which is understandable, and really not a scandal. Or if it is, it’s cancelled out by the reason she declined the invitation. Sable is an adult now. There’s nothing illegal about this. But it makes people feel icky. Not only is there a significant age difference, but he’s also in an immense position of power. There are protesters, but they have not been allowed into the auditorium. Oceanus passed a message onto them, begging them to stay quiet. He can’t tell them that it’s because he fears for their lives, but there is only so much he can do. He doesn’t outrank the Captain. He’s only an advisor, and it’s time for him to begin today’s responsibility.

“Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today,” Oceanus begins. It’s an uncommon turn of phrase on the ship. Waldemar evidently heard it in a movie or two, and he has a fixation on tradition—not Extremusian traditions, specifically ones that they don’t typically follow. He proceeds to drone on and on about love and loyalty, following the script that Waldemar handed him word for word, including the few typos. If asked about it later, he’ll just say that he’s become so accustomed to speeches that the words travel right from the screen to the microphone, bypassing his brain entirely. It’ll be fine, they’re not that bad, and people have bigger things to worry about.

After the ceremony comes the reception. Oceanus thought he was done with his part in this charade, but Waldemar surprises him with a call to toast. He didn’t prepare anything, so he has to wing it. Other toasters dropped subtle clues about the extent of their disapproval, but he was entirely noncombative, because what would be the point? How does it help anyone, getting yourself chucked into hock? Errr, rather, the brig. He mostly sticks with love and loyalty, and drives home how lucky Sable is to find someone so amazing, adding in some anecdotes about Waldemar’s work ethic and tenacity. Fifty points to Oceanus, he didn’t throw up even once during the entire ordeal. When it’s a feasible time to duck out quietly, he goes back towards the bow, but instead of going to his quarters, he heads for the office that he shares with Lataran. Waldemar has made a lot of changes to Extremus, but Admiral Gardens remains untouched. Oh good, she’s here. “I want in.”

Lataran is busying herself with nonsense work. Waldemar has his own advisors, and has never asked to their help with anything. “You want in to what?”

“Whatever you, Silveon, Audrey Husk, and even Sable are up to, I want to be a part of it. I don’t want to sit on the sidelines anymore. I want you to tell me the plan.”

She sighs, and returns to her tablet. “There is no plan.” This may not be the right time to talk to her. Her daughter just married a monster, and she couldn’t bring herself to watch it happen. It must have been so difficult for her, being unable to stop it.

“Please. You can trust me,” he insists. “I know you know that. We may not have always gotten along, but we can agree that we have to protect the ship from him.”

She sighs again, more annoyed this time. “I’m not icing you out. There really is no plan. We did have plans, but Sable ruined them when she married him.”

“That wasn’t what you all wanted?”

“No,” she begins to explain. “That was Audrey’s job. She’s...older than she looks, and knew what she was getting into. Sable doesn’t understand what’s at stake. I don’t know why we agreed to let her be part of this at all, but this wedding was a bridge too far. So I’m out. I’m old and dying, and she has to make her own choices. I’ve already talked to her about it ad nauseum. I guess they were more like fights. But either way, whatever we were trying to do together, that’s over now. She’s made it clear that she’ll be pivoting him away from us, so she can have him all to herself. There’s nothing left to do but accept it. Whatever Extremus becomes, that will be what it is.”

“So we just fade into the background?”

“While we’re alive? Yes.” She shakes her tablet slightly. “I’m writing a book. It outlines the truth—my truth, and will be published posthumously. I’m still deciding who will be responsible for that. It could place those who survive me in danger, including my daughter. But I can’t sit with these thoughts in my head anymore. I have to get them out. If you’re struggling with the same hopelessness, you might look for your own outlet.”

“I prefer to fix things while I’m still alive,” he says.

She presses a button on her desk, causing the walls to start to extend and wrap around her work area. She never used privacy mode when Tinaya was working alongside her. Now she activates it all the time. “Good luck with that,” she says just before it seals her up completely.

Oceanus moves on to Silveon. He basically asks him the same thing, and Silveon basically responds the same way that Lataran did. “My mission had an expiration date. I didn’t know it when I started, but I’ve lost my way in. She has taken over everything. We did not factor in the possibility that someone new in this timeline would usurp control over the situation. It was always a possibility, of course. That’s what happens when you change history. I suppose this might have even been inevitable, thanks to my actions. One thing that Waldemar was not in the old timeline was welcoming. He didn’t have close advisors, or personal relationships. He only had loyal subjects. I gave him this. I taught him how to connect with others. I showed him how to marry a girl. I don’t know if I should regret it or not, because the plan was to make him more human. Unfortunately, this is what that looks like.”

He goes to Audrey now, who he expects to find distraught in her new quarters. They are a far cry from the luxury of the Captain’s Stateroom. She doesn’t seem to care, about her living arrangements, nor Waldemar’s new wife and life. “Sable has powers.”

“What?”

“She has time powers.”

“Which ones?” Oceanus presses.

“I don’t know, but she was a kid when we brought her into the fold. We shouldn’t have done that. She somehow made us. When we switched bodies—”

“You switched bodies?” he interrupts.

“Yes, I forget who knows what. She doesn’t know how to paint.”

“Oh, right. She did that portrait. It looks good.”

“It shouldn’t,” Audrey counters. “I had only started when she forced her way back into her mind. When I say we switched bodies, that isn’t entirely truthful. I took over hers, but we placed her in a constructed dream, made to look exactly as the Extremus was when she went under. We took sensor data from all over, and fed it into the program. It extrapolated what would happen if Sable were really still there. She somehow broke through the illusion, and took back over. I don’t know how she did that, and I don’t know how that painting got finished.”

“It sounds like you’re done with the mission, like Lataran. That’s how she put it.”

“That’s how we put it to each other,” Audrey tells him sadly.

“Do you understand Sable’s motives? Did you get anything from the experience? If she learned to paint, did you learn to...use whatever gifts she has?”

“Well, I felt her power, before she proved she had it. And at the same time, I...”

“Go on. You can trust me. I want to help.”

“I felt something else,” Audrey finally says. “I don’t know how to articulate it. It was...ambition? Or maybe yearning? I don’t know, but she wants something. She is singularly focused on it. Honestly, it reminded me of Waldemar, sometimes when I’ve looked into his eyes. I’ve never seen it in her eyes, though. She’s either good at hiding it, or I’m crazy. But it scared the shit out of me. I wouldn’t recommend consciousness transference tech unless you really know the person you’re switching with.”

Oceanus nods, taking in all the information, and trying to fill in the gaps. It’s not much to go on. Even if no one else is trying to fight it, he can’t stop. He’ll go it alone if he has to. He cares too much about Extremus, and the mission. He cares about it at the expense of himself. “You can’t really know anyone, can you? Except for yourself.”

“Maybe,” she answers. “Maybe not even then.”

“You did once; trusted yourself. You went back in time, to your younger body.”

“I was desperate.”

“I am too,” he states plainly.

She shakes her head. “Don’t even think about it. You don’t have enough information. Silveon and I spent years curating historical variables, and we still missed things. Time travel is never the answer. The teach that in school. I wish I had listened.”

“Give me the key,” he asks, calmly and dispassionately, but not hostilely.

“You know what? What does it matter? We might as well give it a second shot. I’m not gonna remember doing this, so here are the directions to the tech room.” She flings the data to his device. “Here are the codes.” She flings those too. “When you get to the past, would you do me a favor?”

“Anything, as long as it doesn’t interfere with my primary objective.”

She chuckles. “Don’t tell me or Silveon what you are, or anyone, really. If you have to tell us anything, just say you got intel from the Bridger Section, or something.”

“I promise, he lies. He walks out without saying goodbye, because she won’t remember it anyway. He walks down to the deepest bowels of the ship, and unlocks the room where the secret insurgent tech is apparently stored. He doesn’t know how to work the equipment, but it’s sufficiently self-explanatory. After making sure he has all the settings right, he climbs in the chair, and sends his mind back to his younger body.

Its over a year in the past, in 2394; the day of the portrait. It all started to fall apart here. Oceanus has to immediately break his promise to Audrey. The first thing he does is go to the Captain’s Stateroom to tell her to not go through the plan to force Sable into a virtual environment. Whatever she does in the real world, it’s better than pissing her off, and pushing her away from the group. He doesn’t even think he needs to know what exactly she’s after. Anything has to be better than letting Waldemar Kristiansen run around unchecked, unbalanced. They have to put up a united front, and that means being honest with each other.

Since he was never a part of any of that, he has no idea if it turns out all right. Like Audrey said, he only knows so many facts about the situation. He just has to hope that she listened to him. Telling her that he spoke with the Bridgers was never going to be enough. To be absolutely sure she believed him, he had to reveal that he knows about the secret room, and the secret portrait plan. He couldn’t be cryptic or vague. Now, whether she, Silveon, and Lataran actually listen to his advice is another story.

He returns to his stateroom to mourn the loss of his past self. It’s only hitting him now that he essentially murdered someone. He overwrote someone else’s consciousness. The fact that it was technically him, and not someone else, doesn’t really help. It was still a death, and one that he caused. That version of Oceanus is gone, and he will live with that guilt for a long time. The doorbell rings. He opens it without checking the feed. “Captain, this is unexpected. How did the portrait go?”

“Swimmingly,” Waldemar replies as he’s letting himself in without an invitation.

“How’s your wife?”

“Funny you should ask, because I was about to ask the same thing.”

“Sir?” Oceanus questions.

“I hear you stopped by for a visit.”

“Oh, yes. Briefly. We hadn’t spoken in a while. I just wanted to see how she was. I thought we might grab some tea, but she wasn’t up for it.”

Waldemar nods. “My secret service agents say that it wasn’t all that brief, that you were acting unusual, and that Audrey was rather upset when you left.”

“I’m sorry if she was, but I saw her in high spirits. I assure you, I didn’t hurt her.”

“Why would you even put such a thought into the universe? I didn’t suggest that.”

“I can see that you think something happened which didn’t. Your agents interpreted something that wasn’t there. Please don’t make this a thing.”

“It may be a thing, it might not. I can’t risk it. I can’t risk a scandal. I don’t care about her, but I care about my reputation. You’re endangering that. So you got to go.”

“You can’t kill me. I’m an admiral.”

Walder sports a feigned frown. “Aww, it’s cute that you think that matters. Admirals have never mattered. I never intend to become one. I will be the captain forever. And you’ll be dead. If you don’t fight it, it won’t hurt. You’re old. That’s all they’ll see. I’ll scrub all contradictory records.”

“They will see what you really are. Before you can start getting anything real done, beyond renaming the hock and Chief Medical Officer, they’ll see you.”

“That’s what they all think. Just before I end their life, everyone thinks they know me. But Admiral Jennings, I’m here to tell you...I’m not about to start making real changes. I’ve already begun.” He kills him.

« < » > Table of Contents