Microstory 788: K-Boy

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At some point in the history of the bulkverse, a version of K-Boy ended up in a universe unlike his own. Here, though special abilities were possible, they were rare, and not nearly as ubiquitous as the time powers he had come to know in his home brane. His powers remained while in this universe, but they were significantly limited, as if the laws of physics—though outwardly exactly like the ones he was familiar with—were ever so slightly different. While still faster than any normal human being, he was significantly slower than before. He could run, but within the bounds of normal spacetime, and could be seen doing so by the naked eye. He found himself attached to a group of heroes, most of which had no special abilities of their own, but he was most known for his entanglements with a man named Michael Fintan, a.k.a. Boom Mike. Fintan was an actual boom operator, working on a number of popular and high-budget productions. He was not well-liked personally, for his reckless attitude, and juvenile behavior, but he was coveted professionally. He could hold the boom microphone for extended periods of time, like a statue, with some claiming his record to be forever. The truth was that he learned his patience and stamina while fighting in war. It was the characteristics he picked up here that caused K-Boy to gravitate towards him. As much as they fought their feelings for each other, it was ultimately useless. But their relationship would not be without its problems. K-Boy was strictly a hero, fighting for good and justice, while Boom Mike had become disillusioned with the government from his time in the military, eventually leaving it behind for the private sector. He became a mercenary, lending his services to anyone who was willing to pay him enough money. This created great tension between the two of them, and when it came time to choose sides, it was unclear whether Boom Mike would choose the right one. He was not a lost cause, and redemption was just around the corner, but he would have no hope without the dedication, and love, that he found in K-Boy.

Microstory 691: Replace Eido Kimena

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The Saw of Kimena was little more than a symbol. Sure, Eido Kimena occasionally used it as a weapon, or as a tool for threats, but it did not possess any special properties. Some believe that Kimena kept it with her after noticing the other eidos carrying with them signature objects. As stated, she was the primary driving force in favor of seizing control of the sunken island of Atlantis, and ended up losing her saw there. One member of the group of mercenaries who went in to retrieve it was a man named Harvin Adricks, who was likely trying to prove himself worthy of being selected as the new eido. He’s not unlike Kimena, with a thirst for conquest, and a temper to match it. He was, shall we say, rather zealous while within the confines of the undersea civilization, and started breaking protocol to gain intelligence. Though against the mission, he was an unofficial leader in the merc team, trusted and loved by many of his teammates. He was able to convince them to try to gather information on how Atlantis operates, in case Fostea runs into issues with them later. They learned very little about the island nation, however, for in the attempt, they discovered a secret the Atlantians had only recently discovered themselves. Lactean representatives had been sent to Earth in a series of missions, ultimately finding out that the ancient Amadesins were still alive. Amadesis is an evil religion predicated upon control, servitude, and pure inequality. Though both Amadesis and Lightseed are founded on the concept of a cleansing light, the Amadesins use this light as a form of manipulation, determining who has the right to it, and who deserves to remain in darkness. If anything is the antithesis of Lightseed, Amadesis is most certainly it, and we would have been fiercely against them if we had existed during the same time periods. Well, as it turns out, that’s exactly what we are, for despite reports they the religion died out centuries ago, millions of them have been reported to be living in higher dimensions that can be accessed by Earth. Adricks was hastily named as new eido so that he could begin using his skills for what may be the greatest fight of any Lightseer’s life. All signs point to the logical speculation that Fostea is headed for intergalactic war.

Microstory 667: A Weak Man Made Strong

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Vilis Samuels was bullied as a child. He struggled in most of his classes, but had a fascination with history of the old world. He wasn’t the only one. We’re all very sad to say, but over the years, some of us have longed for the days when we were under the rule of the dirty communists. These defectors believe the communists to be all about equality and contentment, when really, they’re all about control. Of course these twisted thoughts would make people like Vilis outsiders wherever they went in the galaxy. Many succumb to their bad thoughts, and end up trying to return from whence we came. Vilis never likely gave up his childhood fantasies, but he did grow up to use his love of Lactea in the best way he could find, which was to help covertly keep track of their movements. What some people may not know is that, in order to maintain our secrecy against the Lacteans, we have to know what they’ve been up to. One of the longest-lasting organizations has been secretly returning to the old world, and reporting back. Vilis does not go on these missions, for it would be too dangerous to let him anywhere near people he may yet admire. It’s his responsibility to handle the reports from the agents in the field, making sure they’re filed correctly, and escalating any issues that may threaten our people. He is really just a clerk, and has never made much of an impression on anyone else. Upon watching the bulletin from the new Warriors of Mercy, however, he suddenly felt a surge of energy. This new power was physical, yes, with his muscles far exceeding the strength he had ever had before, but it was also more. Vilis became confident and self-assured, no longer allowing anyone to talk down to him. He demanded a promotion to field agent, which his superiors were helpless to decline. He’s lost his love of Lactea, and is shaping up to be one of the best intelligence agents the galaxy has ever seen. Only time will tell what comes of Vilis Samuels, but one thing we know from him, is that he never wants to be that same weak man he was before.

Microstory 666: Dawning of the Merciful Warriors

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Technically, this taikon began before the sixty-fifth one, but the Book of Light allows some wiggle room. The merciful warriors began out of necessity, as foretold in the taikon passages. Honestly, anyone in the galaxy could have taken this responsibility, but not everyone would be interested in this type of thing. From their perspective, their decision to transform themselves, instead of allowing some other group to change, made the most sense, partially because of their name. Once mercenaries for hire, they have changed their mission from that of profit, to that of justice. Following their rescue of a group of hailstorm refugees, they made an announcement on the Pangalactic Bulletin Board. This is what they said about their new line of work:

We of Dayspring Regis have chosen to begin traveling a new path. Not everyone in our regiment is as dedicated to the Light as others, but we all believe in the truth that it teaches. And we believe the existence of a force for goodness and justice is paramount to the survival of Fostea. No longer will we allow chaos to reign under the guise of freedom. We are the authority. We now decide who lives, who dies, and who wins. Our numbers are growing, and we will begin to install outposts across the stars. If ever you want to do something that harms someone else, you will first have to ask our permission. We are...the Warriors of Mercy.

The Book of Light predicts that the merciful warriors will bring about great change to the galaxy. It does not say how exactly, but that not everyone will be okay with these changes. It sounds like things are going to be operating a lot differently than before. Whether these new Warriors of Mercy will be able to maintain their control over the worlds for an extended period of time is something we’ve yet to know. They could be replaced quickly. The taikon foretells that they must be created...not that they must survive beyond that.

Microstory 619: Eido Ivanka

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No one could have predicted that the segregated Anter star system would play such an important role in the achievement of the taikon. Yet this is where the game of Vector was revived, and also now where we found our way to the nineteenth taikon. Eido Ivanka was the younger sister of Eido Seamus, and most ruthless of the eidos. She was born into a family of fishermen, but rejected her birthright, choosing instead to go into the paramilitary business. Because of her background, she was chosen to be the head of private security, whose primary purpose was the defense of Sacred Savior Sotiren Zahir, and the entire Fostean-bound fleet. Her zeal for the protection of her charge, and also her mercilessness inspired Sotiren to later give her the central system of Dulex, which included Dikaio, Istamas and Lakre. In tandem with her responsibilities as one of the galaxy’s eidos, she continued her calling in hired security. Ivanka fought many wars for others, sometimes switching sides in the middle of the conflict when the pay was better. Despite a life of more danger than most other eidos, she was never killed. Some texts speculated that she died of natural causes after a long and healthy life, but others believed her to have survived to modern day. The latter has now proven to be true. All the taikons referring to the eidos have left the true nature of the replacement for the original eidos up to chance. The assumption was that they would need to be replaced by younger counterparts, but this was obviously not true for Peter Fireblood. Eido Ivanka turned out to have survived under similar circumstances. It is as yet unclear how long Ivanka lived in the Anter system, but the Fathers of the Undisturbed claim to have known nothing about it. She has not said a single word since being discovered by the Vector verifiers who were already in the star system. They are confident, however, that she will soon be in the right mind to take her place back as one of the Fostean eidos.

Microstory 598: Group of Ambers Provide Aid Following Disaster; Form Paramilitary ‘Brigade’

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In the days following the unexpected onslaught of Hurricane 905-11 on the coast of Carolina, a record number of volunteers traveled from all over the country—and even internationally—to provide aid to those in need. Hundreds of people were killed, thousands of people were injured, and millions of people suffered damage to their homes in the most damaging tropical cyclone in recent historical memory. The people who gave up their time and money to help perfect strangers who lived hours away from them are, without question, heroes. Experts believe the high number of volunteer aidsman can be attributed to the invention, and proliferation, of the home radio receiver, but this does not take away their bravery. It has shown the world that humans are probably inherently good, and that those who can help, likely will. But a special group of these people did more by taking this horrendous event, and turning it into something good. The Usonan government and its military were unable to engage in their rescue efforts in a timely manner. We are still so technologically inadvanced that organizing and mobilizing an entire national guard in times of crises is difficult, at best. Fortunately, there were those in the area who could fill in for official rescuers until they could arrive.

Roloff Hopson formed The Amber Brigade two years ago in order to create an amber community in northeastern Georgia. Though ambers have generally felt no hostility from the standard human population, many appreciate having a place they can go, knowing that everyone around them has at least this much in common. The name was meant to be more a joke, with plans to rename it based on suggestions from its then-current members, but this never happened, and they all just agreed to keep it. As it turns out, they couldn’t have picked anything better. Up until now, the Brigade has met two or three times a week at an abandoned theatre that Hopson’s late aunt had bequested to him upon his death. Hopson and his new friends, which numbered a few hundred now, were at one of these meetings when news of Hurricane Eleven broke out. A few of them immediately wanted to spring into action, and do whatever they could for the victims. These few possessed abilities that gave them each an advantage against water, wind, or debris...but they were not the only ones who wanted to take action. Soon, a dozen more followed, then another dozen, and then more...until only children and single parents remained. Nearly all of them caravanned to the most dangerous areas affected by the storm, and began rescuing people. Totals for their rescues have not yet been calculated, but it’s estimated that they saved the lives of at least as many people as they had in their own group.

For the rest of the month, the Amber Brigade continued to support the survivors of Hurricane Eleven, working in shelters, transporting people to families in other regions, and searching for anyone who may be trapped or stranded. Meanwhile, Hopson and the rest of the organization’s leadership began talks for transforming the Brigade into an actual paramilitary agency. Details have not yet been finalized, and they still have a long way to go in order to comply with all national laws, but we already know a few things. This new Amber Brigade will allow membership from anyone; including regular humans, vampirs, and werewolves. Though still to be based in Augusta, it will include chapters in multiple major cities, and be expanded on an as-needed basis. The ultimate goal of the Brigade is to create as many chapters as possible, spread out across as much of the country as possible. While the military branches of the government cannot possibly be stationed in all places, the Brigade will supplement their forces with volunteers. It will also require far less of a commitment than that of an aidsman, and be focused primarily on relief and service, rather than military strategies. In fact, Brigade leadership is currently working with government representatives in order to determine whether any military training should be added in the at all. An official announcement will be held over the radio today from the capital. New information, including the steps necessary to join, is expected to be provided at this time.

Microstory 579: Rangers Assure Public ‘Vampire Uprising’ Unlikely

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For the last few weeks, whispers of a “vampire revolt” have been spread across the country, and the world. For as long as history records it, vampires and humans have been living alongside each other with few issues. Amber humans began sporting their special abilities several centuries ago, while werewolves showed up in the 17th century. Other than a few territorial squabbles, this diversity has not created any significant level of violence or oppression. Not a single major war has been fought over race, even while certain extremist hate groups attempt to instigate them. As far as the general public is concerned, we all accept each other. Whether you survive on blood donations, or you can see in the dark, or you are descended from wolves, we’re all just people. Some believe, however, that one of the fringe factions has decided that enough is enough, and that it’s time to make a change to how society operates. In the central west of the Usonian state of Utah lies one of the sunniest regions in the world. With very little natural covering like trees and mountains, the Canary Desert sounds like the last place one would find a vampir. This is exactly why the Utah Militia, which is run exclusively by vampirs, decided to stake its claim there. With seemingly unlimited funds, the UM imports fresh blood from Idaho, the number one exporter of human blood, every day.  They are said to inject themselves with ten times the recommended human blood dosage for the average adult vampir. They train tirelessly when the sun is at its highest, they are built to live amongst humans in even the most dangerous of environments for their ilk, and their manifesto includes the line that “no human is safe”.

The UM started as a frustrated few, tired of relying on humans to provide for them the necessary dietary requirements for basic survival. It has since morphed into a horde of angry vampirs with a goal of human domination, believing them to be nothing more than walking bags of bloodfood. Conspiracy websites have begun disseminating claims that this hate group has shown uncomfortable signs of escalation, and that they may have found a way to infiltrate the mainstream. Conspiracists cite unverified evidence that the Utah Militia has purchased, or stolen, particularly suspicious products. A specially formulated skin dye has recently hit the market—as of now unapproved by the any nation’s health regulatory body—with the potential to hide any vampir’s natural purplish hue. Supposedly, copious amounts of the lotion has been shipped to a small town near Canary Desert. A product not yet on the market at all, that is still in the testing phases, has also gone missing, with trails reportedly leading to the UM. The as of yet unnamed clothing line, nicknamed The Blood Jacket, is a proprietary medical device researchers hope will one day counteract the effects of the infrared radiation to which vampirs are vulnerable. Though the Vampire Rangers generally provide assistance for other law enforcement agencies, they often take it upon themselves to investigate threats that come from vampirs. They have released an official statement, assuring the public that they are taking every lawful precaution when it comes to the Utah Militia, and also that they have found no evidence that any claim of their intentions to “take over the world” is true. Only time will tell, but if it turns out this group has access to this kind of technology, not even the human isolationists along the equator will be safe from their wrath.

Microstory 527: Mysterious Savior May Not Have Abilities

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If you live in a major North American city, you may have caught a glimpse of a mysterious woman flying around, saving people’s lives. If not, you have surely at least heard of her. Or rather, you’ve heard of the idea of her. She has yet to identify herself in any way, or even vocally communicate at all. She shows up, takes care of a problem, then leaves for her next job before anyone can so much as thank her. She travels at speeds faster than ever recorded using an open-air vessel more advanced than anything in the world. She’s extremely agile, and incredibly strong. She has been seen diving into freezing cold water, walking through fire, and even passing through walls unharmed. She carries two weapons that can be transformed into a number of different shapes. These can be like swords, batons, tasers, and many other shapes. She has not once hurt anyone except superficially, possibly because she generally doesn’t have to. Firstly, she mostly limits herself to helping people in accidental dangers; like burning buildings, and traffic collisions. When she does encounter pushback, assailants have attempted to do her harm, but have always failed. Bullets seem to just roll off her, and explosions just propel her in one direction, where she lands safely, like a cat from a table. She seems to show little to no emotion, as if programmed to carry out her missions with no feelings, but a duty to succeed. Some call her an angel, but most children refer to her as a superhero, citing her behavior and “abilities” as most closely resembling that of the fictional comic book character, WildFlyer.

She may not be alone. Various reports have cropped up around the world that have always been ignored, but are now being reexamined. Farmers in Tanzania claim one of their own has regularly altered the weather with nothing but his will. Two people in the midwest have been associated with the sudden recovery of a number of terminally ill patients. There is a rumor going around that hundreds of people have received organ transplants from a single individual. The military is not exempt from this either. Two special teams exist within the Confederate Military Force. It has been suggested that one of them involves people who can merge their bodies together, while another seems to be composed exclusively of supersoldiers. These claims cannot be verified. The only known person to possess superhuman abilities is the enigmatic woman in North America. However, authorities are not convinced that these are powers. Though she can be found in many places, she always looks the same. She always carries her special weapons, and she is always wearing her uniform, which includes cool-looking sunglasses. Scientists believe it’s possible that these are what give her such immense fortitude. They say that the things she can do are not necessarily out of the realm of reality…just that they are presently scientifically unobtainable. It is conceivable that this woman alone, or—more likely—an organization, has developed technology beyond that of current global trends. Fans and investigators have made numerous attempts to communicate with her, and hope that one day she will answer. For now, many of us are just thankful that she exists in the first place.

The Advancement of Mateo Matic: April 21, 2045 (Part II)

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Unlike his regular timejumps, Mateo didn’t move physically. Instead, his mind was sent back to his younger body. He was in the middle of the dark jungle with Leona who had no recollection of dying, or anything else that had happened in the other timeline. The security contingency overwhelmed them, just as they had before. They patted the two of them down, bound their wrists, and took them back up to the house. Reaver was cooking in the kitchen, as predicted. Everything was the same.

Mateo was about to say something to change history for the better, but stopped himself. Reaver had already experienced this day once. Presumably, he did the same thing in both of the first two timelines. If Mateo deviated from what had happened based on his new knowledge, Reaver would be suspicious. Until they got up to the room, Mateo would have no choice but to play this out exactly as he had before, saying all the same things. But could he remember everything? “Cooking? What did you do, watch every movie with an evil villain and just copy their movements? Next you’re going to speak in an accent and touch my skin with vaguely homoerotic undertones.” Shit. That was wrong. He didn’t say undertones last time. He said overtones.

Reaver did seem to notice. He crooked his neck and squinted his eyes slightly, but then either thought he had unwittingly altered the conversation, or that he was remembering it wrong. “Right,” he said, “I’m impressed. You so often prove yourself to be completely out of touch and uncultured, but here you are making hollywood cliché references.” He responded with about the same quip as before, but his voice had changed. He was no longer in a good mood. That undertones mistake had somehow ruined his attitude.

“I like to play to my audience,” Mateo said, also with less snark than last time.

“We had a deal,” Leona said. “We help you out of prison, and you help us stop the powers that be.”

“No, you misunderstand,” he explained. “I needed your help breaking out of prison. And you did a good job. Very clever using your own pattern against the security system. I would have preferred not waiting a whole year for your return, but...it all worked out. Anyway, I’m not here to help you find the powers that be. You’re still the ones helping. I’m going to contact them for my own reasons, and whatever happens to you as a result is irrelevant to me.”

“Well, we don’t know the context,” Leona said. “How are you contacting them? You said you know where they are, but how do we get there? You even admit that you still need us, otherwise you would have done it this past year. So you have one day to get it done.”

“You’re right,” Reaver agreed. “You’re not just helping; you are vital to my plan. But we can’t actually do anything until the end of the day. Like your prison break, my plan hinges on the fact that you’ll jump into the future in 24 hours.”

“Explain.”

“I will later,” he said. “I’m gonna stick you two in a comfortable room for the time being. Don’t worry, there aren’t any cameras. I have no interest in seeing you two...” he trailed off again. “I suggest you get some rest since you were up all day yesterday, paranoid that I would try to kill you.”

“Why should we be less paranoid now?” Mateo asked. “Nothing has changed.”

“This is true. Do whatever you want. I don’t even care anymore. Someone will bring you food later.” He redirected his words to Lieutenant Franklin whose name Mateo wasn’t supposed to know. “Take them upstairs.”

Mateo decided to risk sleep. Even though Reaver might have been suspicious that he knew more than he was letting on, there was no getting around the fact that both he and Leona needed the rest, especially if they were going to make yet another escape. His suspicion about Reaver’s suspicion was reinforced when Franklin came in two hours later than he had in the original timeline, to give them cold noodles instead of hot quiche. Things were diverging faster than Mateo could handle. Soon, time will have changed so much that he would have no chance of predicting what was going to happen next. He had to act. “Franklin.”

“What?” Franklin asked, confused.

“That’s your name.”

“It is.”

“But Reaver never told me your name, so how would I know that?”

“Mateo, what’s going on?” Leona asked.

Franklin looked down at the floor and pondered. He wasn’t the least intelligent person in the world, but it probably took him a little time to figure things out. Mateo was giving him as much time as he needed, because an ally would come in handy. “Horace is a time traveler.”

“Right,” Mateo said, relieved that he knew as much.

“You’re time travelers.”

“We are.”

“You found out my name, and then you went back in the past to now, and now you know my name.”

Mateo closed his eyes and nodded once. “That’s exactly what happened.”

Franklin scratched the hair on the back of his head rigorously, like a dog. “Well, what happens?”

“We die,” Mateo said, but then he began the lie. “We all die. Leona, me, your entire team. Everybody dies, Franklin. And it’s Reaver’s fault.”

“No, Horace would never do that,” Franklin protested. “He’s my friend. He lets me call him Horace.”

Leona followed Mateo’s lead and improvised. “He is your friend, but you two get in a fight, and he loses control. He doesn’t mean to, but he’s just so mad at us. He doesn’t really want us here, but he doesn’t know what to do.”

“Horace always knows what to do!”

“He always has, yes,” Leona tried to calm him down. “But he doesn’t like us, and we kind of confuse him when we’re around. Accidentally,” she clarified. “You have to help him, Franklin. You have to get rid of us for him.”

He pulled out his gun. “I can get rid of you.”

She held up her hands in defense. “No, not like that. We’re time travelers, remember? If you kill us, we’ll just come back.”

That was completely ridiculous, and 100% untrue, but Franklin seemed to be buying it. Maybe he was the dumbest person in the world. “Okay, what do I do?”

“We came here with an android. Do you know where he is?”

“Horace turned him off and chained him up in the basement closet.” He looked at the floor shyly. “But I turn him on every once in awhile when Horace is away. He’s my friend too.”

“Okay,” Leona said. “I need you to turn him on one more time. He is our friend as well, and we need his help.”

Franklin was still hesitant, but in the end, agreed to help them help Reaver. About ten minutes after he left, there was a ruckus downstairs. Shots were fired, wood was cracked, screams were screamed. Harrison burst through the door, face like a rabid animal. “Next time I tell you to stay away from an evil psychopath, listen to me!”

“You don’t have to tell us twice,” Mateo said.

“That was, like, the tenth time!”

They stole Reaver’s aircraft, disabled the tracking software, and flew off to safety in Baker Lake, Nunavut where Mateo described to them what had happened.

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The Advancement of Mateo Matic: April 21, 2045 (Part I)

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Reaver had far more loyalists than Mateo thought he would. Once they jumped into 2045, a decently-sized security contingency overwhelmed them. They patted the two of them down to make sure they didn’t have any weapons, and then bound their wrists behind their backs before taking them back up to the house. Reaver was in the middle of cooking breakfast foods when they were ushered into the kitchen. “Really?” Mateo asked. “Cooking? What did you do, watch every movie with an evil villain and just copy their movements? Next you’re going to speak in an accent and touch my skin with vaguely homoerotic overtones.”

“Mister Matic,” he said, “I’m impressed. You so often prove yourself to be completely out of touch and uncultured, but here you are making hollywood cliché references.”

“I like to play to my audience.”

“We had a deal,” Leona said. “We help you out of prison, and you help us stop the powers that be.”

“No, you misunderstood,” he explained. “I needed your help breaking out of prison. And good job with that, by the way. Very clever using your own pattern against the security system. Very clever indeed, however, I would have preferred not waiting a whole year for your return. You were right; that was torture. I’m not surprised people go crazy waiting for you to come back.” He finally switched back to his main point, “but I’m not here to help you find the choosing ones. You’re still the ones helping. I’m intending to contact them for my own reasons, and that may or may not work out for you.”

“Well, we don’t know the context,” Leona said. “How are you contacting them? You said you know where they are, but how do we get there? You obviously do still need us quite a bit, otherwise you would have done it this past year. So you have a day to get it done.”

“You’re right,” Reaver agreed. “You’re not just helping; you are vital to my plan. But we can’t actually do anything for the majority of today. Like your prison break, my plan hinges on the fact that you’ll jump into the future in 24 hours.”

“Explain.”

“I will. Be patient,” he said coyly. “I’m gonna stick you two in a comfortable room for the time being. Don’t worry, there aren’t any cameras. I have no interest in seeing you two do whatever you do when you’re alone. I suggest you get some rest since you were up all day last year, paranoid that I would kill you in your sleep.”

“Why should we be less paranoid now?” Mateo asked. “Nothing’s changed.”

“Right again. But what are you gonna do? Ten feet up, or six feet under; your choice. You’ll be given food later, maybe some noodles, but it won’t be my world famous quiche. You’ve hurt my feelings.”

“Reaver,” Leona started, probably wanting to know more about his plans for them.

“Okay, you can have the quiche. As long as you promise not to ruin it with additional seasoning.” He redirected his words to the paramilitary officer still holding onto their arms. “Take them upstairs, Lieutenant Franklin.”

Against their better judgment, Mateo and Leona found some sleep in their latest prison. Being locked up was becoming a trend; one that needed to be put to a stop. Lieutenant Franklin came in with food every six hours. They tried to interact with him, and ask why he was loyal to someone who had caused so much destruction, but he never said a word. At about a quarter to midnight, he came in once more and escorted them all the way down to the basement where Reaver was once again putting on a show; acting like he was in the middle of a good book.

“We know you’re faking it,” Mateo whined. “Just tell us what your plan is. We don’t have all year.”

“Haha,” Reaver pretended to laugh. “Good one.” His demeanor changed. He became more serious and concerned. “Here’s where things change. Last time I went through this day, I did nothing. I had to wait for my rewind, or the plan would fail.” He took out a fixed-blade knife and almost began to cry. “Now, here’s the thing. I don’t want to do this. I just don’t know any other way.”

“You said you would stop trying to kill us.”

Now he really was crying. “I need to one more time. Just once more. Then it’ll be over. The choosing ones will jump in and send me back. Then this will all be erased.”

Leona stood in front of Mateo and spread her arms in defense. “You’re not going to hurt him again!”

Reaver continued to cry as he shook his head. “No, I’m not. This one’s not about him. I’m sorry.”

He raised his weapon in the air and prepared to plunge it into Leona’s chest, but an arm came out of nowhere and held him back. “Get that thing away from my daughter-in-law,” Mateo’s birth father, Mario commanded.

Reaver laughed through his tears. “I should have known they would send you.”

Mario knocked the knife out of Reaver’s hand and pushed him to the floor. “Yes, they finally gave me this assignment.”

“Dad?” Mario asked. “You’re one of the powers that be?”

“No,” he answered. “What makes you think that?”

“He said they would come if he tried to kill her.”

“They’ll only come if I do kill her,” Reaver said from the floor. He jumped up and tackled Mario. They struggled with each other on the floor.

Mateo tried to help, but a man he didn’t know came out of nowhere and held him back. “What are you doing? Let me go!”

Leona tried to help Mario as well, but the man was strong enough to hold her back too. “Screw you, Mateo.” His spit landed in Mateo’s ear. He pushed Leona to the floor where she hit her head on a table, and then he stabbed Mateo in the gut.

Mario screamed, “no!”

This gave Reaver enough room to reach under his chair and take out a gun. He pointed it at Mario’s head and squeezed the trigger.

This time, Leona screamed, “no!”

“Who the hell are you?” Reaver asked of the man as he was standing up, a bit out of breath. Apparently, he didn’t know him either.

The man switched his knife to the other hand and all but growled at Reaver. “I’m the cleanser. I am the yang! I am here to end this!” He lunged with his knife but Reaver just shot him in the head as well.

Reaver sort of shook his head in a twitch like he had just tasted something sour. “That was weird.” While Mateo was trying to stuff his blood back into his stomach, Reaver slowly walked over to Leona who was massaging her head. He whispered loud enough so that Mateo could hear, “I’m going to save you, my love.” He dragged the blade across her neck and let her life seep out of the opening.

Now it was Mateo’s turn to scream, “no!”

A woman appeared out of nowhere with seething anger. “I never thought you would go this far.” She was the same woman that Mateo saw in the Constant following his escape from Reaver’s facility. She was also at Daria’s funeral.

“It’s a sad world when a father has to kill the love of his life to get his daughter’s attention.”

Mateo kept his hands pressed to his stomach while he pushed himself to sit against the wall with his elbows. “Love of your life?” he repeated listlessly. His whole body felt heavy, and his world became blurry. He was dying. “Daughter?”

“Not only that,” Reaver said, haphazardly dropping the knife on the ground. “She’s one of the choosers. She’s one of the people doing this to us.”

“I am doing nothing to you,” she amended. “It would be a conflict of interest.”

“Can you save her?” Mateo asked through tears. “Can you save Leona and my father?”

“Yes, dear,” Reaver agreed. “Do save her. Send me back to the point of divergence and let’s try this one more time!”

“I can’t send you back,” the woman said. “Like I said, it would be a conflict of interest. There are rules. I literally have no way of subverting them.” She looked towards Mateo. “But I can send him back.”

“If you send him back, he’ll ruin all this! He’ll do everything he did before!”

“I’m not sending him back to the point of divergence you’re talking about. I’m just sending him back one day. That is, if he would like me to.” She turned to Mateo. “But you have to decide in the next thirty seconds. I’ll only be able to hijack your jump just before it happens. If you jump to 2046, all is lost.”

Mateo slid his back against the wall and painfully got to his feet. “Do it.”

Come midnight, Mateo jumped, but this time backwards. It was once again April 21, 2045.

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Crossed Off: Relay (Part IX)

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“It sounds like crosstalk to me,” Karam said after Starla explained what had happened with the old man in Greece. He preferred to speak with her out loud, even though they were psychically connected.

I don’t know what that means.

“Well, you sent your consciousness to Egypt, and while you were doing that, this Don guy was sending his consciousness to Greece. You sort of...collided with him, and it prevented you from completing your call to me.”

How do I get back to them?

“Well, you’ve already tried what I would have suggested. It sounds like you don’t really know his phone number.” He threw up air quotes at those last words. “It was an accident. I don’t know that you could replicate it.”

Starla was silent, unable to vocalize her frustration regarding the last few weeks. She thought things couldn’t get any worse following her physical decline, but she was wrong. Something had to change, and quick.

Alec decided to take the next term of school off, and it would have been an uphill battle for Starla’s parents to try to claim that there was any reason for her to go back to tertiary school. They had no idea why her body had fallen into this condition, but they were probably more distraught over it than even her. They paid the bills and modified the house to accommodate her. They did everything right, on paper, that is. But they had a hard time looking her in the eye. They were secretly grateful for Alec’s involvement and patience. She loved them very much, but she didn’t dwell on the fact that they had grown apart. Sometimes, things like that are just unavoidable.

And so, the two of them remained in Winnipeg with Marissa’s family for the next few weeks. Starla would bring the consciousnesses of her confidants to hang out with them. Unfortunately, she could only connect with one person at a time, and Karam was hogging all the appointments so that he could be around Therasia. He had an open relationship with his husband, so there was no problem with his attraction towards her on that front. Though, there was a bit of a problem from their age difference, so he kept his feelings to himself, and also to Starla since she couldn’t help but know.

One of her confidants was too busy to hang out, however. Uruguayan-born Yenifer was always off on one crusade or another. After tertiary school, she decided to forego college and travel the developing world, providing aid to those in need. She had worked for a number of different organizations and was at present working for Food for Somalia on the outskirts of Mogadishu. It was likely the most dangerous situation she had ever been in, and she was currently calling for Starla’s help. I need you to relay messages to Chantal, Yenifer pleaded. In order for two or more of Starla’s confidants to communicate with each other, without using the telephone or letters, Starla would have to relay messages between them. She would have to send her consciousness to one location, pick up the psychic message, then send her consciousness to the other and repeat the thought. And she would have to do this over and over again, because there was no way to connect them together. It was mentally taxing, but it ultimately instilled a sense of community amongst her friends, rather than them being just a scatter of people around the world who all happened to know the same South Carolina girl.

I can do that, Starla said after jumping to Yenifer’s body. She was running through an industrial area. A large group of civilians were running beside her while some kind of small armed military force was providing cover and protection. One soldier, however, had no weapons at all. Instead, she remained up front, barreling through enemies with her bare hands like they were nothing. She clearly had some kind of superhuman strength. She was either another person born with special abilities, or part of a military supersoldier program. She could not yet rule out the latter.

We have to flee the mainland, Yenifer cried. Chantal is the closest known friendly. I need you to coordinate with her. We need permission to enter Seychelles.

I don’t think that she would have that kind of pull, Starla said.

She’ll have to contact the Coast Guard and inform them that we seek refuge from a pirate legion. Seychelles incarcerates the highest number of pirates in the world. I expect them to be sympathetic to the cause.

What have you gotten yourself into, Yenifer? Starla asked like a disappointed mother.

Don’t give me that. This is important. We’re almost to the plane. We need a place to land. Can you help or not? I can just wait until we get to a phone and do it myself.

No, no, it’s fine, Starla insisted. I can do it.

Starla kept an eye on both of them, making sure that Yenifer got to the plane safely, and that Chantal managed to get ahold of the right people. After some discussion, the Seychelles Coast Guard did agree to let them land as long as they agreed to be debriefed, and to let them handle any further piracy issues. Starla ended up staying with Yenifer for a while as she was looking for a way to get the woman with superstrength alone.

“Could you tell me your name? I always like to know who to thank for saving my life.”

“Máire Lyne,” the woman said, shaking hands. “And it’s my job.”

“Forgive me, but you possess a level of strength of never seen before.” She looked down to the back of the fuselage. “And there are far more soldiers here than I remember running with us.”

“Many were waiting for us on the plane,” Máire explained.

“I don’t believe that. Do you have a superpower?”

“Of course I don’t,” Máire replied, and it was obvious that this wasn’t the first time she had been asked such a question.

“There are two people inside of my body right now. Me,” she began, “and my friend, Starla. Her body is in Manitoba right now.”

Máire was wary but noticeably excited by this. “Is that a joke?”

They provided her with a demonstration. Physical contact with a confidant and someone else on the other side allowed Starla to transfer her consciousness to that new person. She moved Máire’s mind to Marissa’s house where the gang was playing cards and telling stories. “That was amazing,” she said after returning to her own body. “She’s always been able to do that?”

Starla took over Yenifer’s body completely. “I have.”

“My brother and I already know that we’re not alone. Sandro Watts works on a separate team, using darts he shoots out of his fingers. Honestly, Miss Wakefield, I would be remiss if I did not suggest to you that you strongly consider joining us.”

“Sorry,” Starla said truthfully. “I would never.”

“I understand. But remember that we’re here to help; not to hurt. My ability does not only give me physical strength. I’m also able to utilize the intelligence and wisdom of others. I always know how to find the peaceful option, if there is one. Besides, you wouldn’t have to join the paramilitary. There are other positions in the Confederacy. I’m pretty sure one of us works as an interpreter in Hudson.”

“Yes,” Starla nodded. “Ling Guo. I have encountered her. I almost forgot.”

Máire subtly shrugged her shoulders. “Just something to think about.”

“Indeed.”

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