Extremus: Year 120

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Tinaya and Arqut wake up on the floor. The first thing that she notices is that there is something rather heavy weighing her ankle down. She lifts herself up at the waist and looks down to find a shackle, attached to a chain, attached to another shackle, which is wrapped around her husband’s leg. His clothes keep changing colors. They’re mostly orange, but occasionally flicker to yellow or purple. Hers are doing the same. It apparently worked. They pleaded with the AI in charge of The Buffer to keep them on ice until it was time to be downloaded into new bodies, and finally see the Extremus planet. It didn’t sound like it was working, but something must have changed.

“Oo, I’ve never seen a couple come through here before,” a voice behind them says. It looks like some kind of authority officer, maybe police. His uniform has green and purple stripes, which seems like an odd choice, but who knows how much has changed in the last century?

“We did a lifelink,” Tinaya explains, standing up, and helping Arqut do the same.

“Never heard of it,” the cop says. “I’m sure the judge will know what to do with you, though. Right over there. Lucky you, you’re in the short line.”

“The short line?” Arqut questions when they look over to see a minimum of a few dozen people snaking their way towards an entrance.

“Yeah. As opposed to that one.” The officer points in another direction. It’s hard to parse, but he’s right. Once they realize what they’re even seeing, they realize that the line in the distance has many thousands of people in it, possibly more. The floor curves upwards as if they’re in a centrifugal cylinder of some kind, which they might be.

“A judge? We have to see a judge?” Tinaya asks. “We were to understand if we answered yes, we would be downloaded to new substrates, no questions asked.”

The officer winces and chuckle-scoffs. “Downloaded? You think you’re being resurrected? Ain’t nobody gettin’ resurrected ‘til Pinocchio gets what he wants.”

“Who is Pinocchio?”

“You’ll learn.” The officer waves the back of both of his hands towards them. “Now, shoo. Shoo! The line waits for no one, not even two people sharing a hock chain.”

They step in line. Other people’s clothes are shifting colors too, with that same orange base, but various other colors instead. “I think it’s a caste system,” Tinaya postulates. “We haven’t been judged yet, but maybe the system has some kind of idea of where we belong, so it changes.”

The next person in the queue turns to face them. “Well, which colors are best?”

“No idea,” Tinaya admits. “Probably not orange, though. This endless bureaucracy screams guilty until proven innocent to me, but I could be wrong.”

“No, that’s what I guessed too,” the woman agrees.

“When did you die?” Arqut asks.

“Arqut,” Tinaya scolds. “That’s a sensitive question.

“No, it’s all right,” the woman says sincerely. “It was 2388.”

“Same as us,” Arqut replies. “Admiral Emerita Tinaya Leithe, and I’m Superintendent Arqut Grieves.”

“Oh, interesting. And this is an army you commanded?”

That was a weird question. Their names could have fallen out of the history books over time, but not within the year. That would be crazy. Who could have possibly not heard of the recently deceased Admiral? “Where did you die? Where were you living?” Tinaya presses.

“Proxima Doma, in a dome called New Hertfordshire,” she answers.

Tinaya and Arqut exchange a look. Proxima Doma is a planet in the stellar neighborhood. It is, in fact, the nearest exoplanet to Earth, which is why it’s called that. They’re not in The Extremus Buffer, but somewhere else. This is something, perhaps...universal, maybe the real afterlife?

“Where are you two from?” she goes on.

“We’re on a Wanderer. I mean, we were.” They’re not entirely sure if this is a current term. It’s the closest one that fits their description, since they ought not to give away the truth about time travel and other universes, and all that. A Wanderer refers to a ship that is designed to be the permanent habitat for its residents. Instead of settling somewhere around a star, it flies—or even drifts—somewhat randomly. Star systems being what they are in the way of being predictable and relatively evenly distributed, the Wanderer isn’t looking for strange new worlds. They just are...somewhere out there, often without even any quantum connections to any other worlds. They’re basically hermits, though some communities can be quite large, and they’re not necessarily misanthropic or distrustful of others. Arqut knows the term because that’s what the history books called them before they existed for real, but their last update was a very long time ago, so the concept may have evolved since then, or just changed names.

“Oh, fun!” She seems to be familiar.

“Do you happen to know why our line is so much shorter?” Tinaya asks her.

“We all just died,” she explains, nodding her head. “All those people have been dead a long time, possibly for millennia. Apparently, something has changed with the process and they’re all getting new assignments,” she continues with airquotes. “That must take a long time, but we’re sittin’ pretty because people don’t really die that much anymore.”

“No, they don’t,” Arqut agrees. It’s not exactly true from their vantage point. Everyone on Extremus dies, and while they don’t know how any of them will respond to The Question, it’s not like it is in the stellar neighborhood, where you’re all but crazy if you don’t opt in to virtual immortality. At least that’s how they understand it. Again, their copy of the central archives isn’t up to date.

There’s a commotion behind them, which the woman notices first since she’s already looking that way. It’s growing louder. When they turn to look, they can’t really see what’s going on. They can just tell that the gigantic line, which once was uniform, has now been broken. It’s moving erratically, be it from an attack, or maybe an escape? If there are good assignments or bad assignments, there are probably some who are reluctant to accept their fates. And as they say in the old movies, everybody runs.

And they are running. At first, it’s just a wall of green heading this way, but faces begin to appear. It really does look like they’re trying to escape, which suggests that green is one of the bad colors. “I don’t know what the hell to do here,” the officer says.

“Are they dangerous?” Tinaya asks him.

“They shouldn’t be. Greenies don’t have the best lives here, but they do okay. They should be rejoicing.” Why would people like that be escaping?

A man suddenly appears. He’s wearing a rainbow of colors. So he has all the assignments? What the hell is this place? “I can’t stop them all,” he kind of says to no one before turning to the officer. “Court Agent, Usher all of these people into the courthouse, then close the doors behind you.”

“Yes, sir, Pinocchio, sir,” the agent responds.

It’s then that this Pinocchio fellow notices Tinaya and Arqut, and their orange chain. “Hm. You’re too interesting to be judged by one of the others.” He reaches out and pokes them each in the shoulder. Their clothes stop fluctuating and settle on pink. “It’s only temporary, so don’t get too excited.” Just before the oncoming storm can crash into them, he teleports the three of them away.

They’re standing on a platform in the middle of the ocean now. No structures besides this little wooden dock can be seen before the horizon. Pinocchio steps over a little and bends his knees, materializing a throne just in time before he can hit the floor. He waves his hand, and generates two arm chairs behind Tinaya and Arqut. “Where are you two from? No need to lie about anything, by the way. I can always look it up in your file. I just prefer to have a conversation.”

“The Transgalactic Generation Ship Extremus,” Tinaya replies. Currently roughly 84,000 light years from the stellar neighborhood.”

Pinocchio nods. “Yes, I remember reading about that. It was quite difficult for my predecessor to install the relay station on board without anyone noticing or discovering it later. He has spies everywhere, though.”

“Relay station, sir?” Tinaya asks. They don’t know who this guy is, but it seems prudent to treat him with respect until they have more information.

“Quantum communication is more difficult across vast distances,” Pinocchio begins. “It’s obviously possible, but it’s better to package up whole IDCodes, and keep them intact. Since it doesn’t make sense to mirror you remotely, they installed a dedicated server onboard your ship, which manages the codes, and sends a data burst back to us only when necessary.” He flicks his finger around, and pulls up a hologram, which is blurred from their perspective. “Looks like you died almost two years ago. The farther out you travel, the fewer bursts it delivers. It’s an efficiency constraint.”

“So, we’re not really dead?” Arqut asks.

“In any meaningful sense, no. In the present day, the consciousness mirroring tech we use isn’t that much more sophisticated than the living establishment has already developed on their own. We’re just very, very good at it, and very, very accurate, and we don’t tolerate coherence errors. You’re in a computer simulation, which was first created some eleven thousand years ago. Everyone who has ever died since then has come here. They were assigned levels to determine their lot in afterlife. If you were a good person, you got privileges. If you were really good, you got more. If you were bad, you went to hock, and if you were really bad, you were just erased. I’ve recently taken over responsibility, and I’m making a few changes to the system.”

“The giant line,” Tinaya acknowledges.

“It’s been slow-going, but necessary,” Pinocchio claims. They used this hyperintelligence to judge everyone, and I didn’t like that it was just this one entity. Everyone who is already here needs to be rejudged. It’s a mess, but I promise, it will all be better in the end. The colors are good, I like the colors. It’s the nuance that needs to be reassessed, especially since people aren’t really dying anymore. Like I said, the living have mostly taken over the responsibility of maintaining continuity of consciousness. If anything fails on their end, I’m not sure we should step in as a backup plan anymore. Sounds like overkill to me, to be perfectly ironic.”

Tinaya and Arqut look at each other awkwardly.

Pinocchio glances back at their file on the hologram. “I see that you had the option of being backed up locally instead, and for whatever reason, that failed. Don’t worry, nothing has been decided on that yet. I’m not going to zero you out just because I’m reconsidering the policy. The question is, what level do you deserve, now that you’ve made it here?”

“Is it possible for us to go back?” Tinaya asks hopefully. “Is that one of these colored levels?”

Pinocchio smirks. “Level Eleven, White, Resurrected. It’s incredibly rare, but it has happened. I’ve never done it myself as I’ve been focused on the reassessments. Let’s call it a hiring freeze. I don’t know why I should unfreeze it for you.”

“Our son,” Tinaya starts to explain. “He died a few minutes after us. He was murdered. We have to fix that.”

“It’s more than that,” Arqut adds. “We have to stop his murderer from taking over the ship. The problem is not that he killed Silveon, but that he’s clearing house so he ends up with no opposition. If he succeeds, it could destroy Extremus entirely, and all those souls—even the ones who have already died—will be coming here. But if you’re thinking of changing that policy...”

Pinocchio holds up a hand to stop him. “I appreciate your concern. Typically, I don’t worry about living sociopolitics, but your link to each other has intrigued me, and I am not without mercy. Let’s take a look at his file, and see his status.” He waves his hand again, and changes the hologram. “Silveon Grieves. One hundred and five years old, died on January 5, 2388. Presently...awaiting integration. I’m sorry, he’s already here. He probably would have ended up in line right behind you had that horde not come running for the hills.”

“Who were those people?” Tinaya questions. “Why were they trying to escape? It sounds like green isn’t bad?”

“It’s not, but they’re not supposed to be green. There are people here who have almost as much power as I. Level Ten, Purple, Unrestricted. They can do just about anything they want, and sometimes what they want is to cause chaos. Not everyone was happy that I took over. They didn’t like the simulation’s creator, which would have been good for me, but they adored the woman who took over for him just before me, so that leaves me at a disadvantage.”

“Let us help you,” Tinaya pleads. Make us two of these purple people, and we’ll combat the insurrectionists.”

“Tina,” Arqut says to her, not sure that he agrees, but not sure that he doesn’t.

Pinocchio thinks it over. “You were just asking to be sent back for your son. Now you’re asking to not only stay here, but to be two of the most powerful people in the simulation? Fascinating tactic.”

“Our power is your power,” Tinaya clarifies. “I assume you can always take it away, and unlike the others, we would let you. Since we will do whatever you want, that is not what we get out of it. What we get out of it is you send Silveon back to Extremus. He must be saved, because he can save everyone else. Plus, we wanna talk to him first.”

Pinocchio considers it again, incorporating these new parameters. “I’ll do it, but unpurpling you isn’t as easy as it may sound, so I have one condition.”

“Go ahead,” Tinaya offers, not surprised.

“Your ship, it’s cut off. Your son goes back to prevent it from blowing up, but if it does anyway—or if individuals just die for other reasons—none of your people comes here. Dead is dead is dead is dead.”

Brief pause. Tinaya takes a breath. She shouldn’t have this kind of power. “Deal.”

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The Advancement of Mateo Matic: August 12, 2525

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No one chased the team as they fled the city, probably because they hadn’t done anything wrong, so the locals had no reason to try to apprehend them. Most of the team didn’t even know why they were running. They just trusted that Leona had good reason to order them to. She had to remind them to slow down, though, because their bodies moved too fast. They were supposed to be normal humans who were born a few decades ago, and would die several more decades from now. Finally, when they were out of the city limits, and safe within the coverage of the trees, they were able to stop. “Rambo, you understand what’s going on?” Leona asked him.

“I have an idea. Fascinating development. I need to get my hands on the slingdrives, so I can figure out why we’re off the mark. Proxima Centauri is close to Sol, but it’s not Sol. We also jumped to our next year too early”

“No, I mean, with the people in this dome. Do you understand why we ran?”

“Oh, of course I do. The Oblivios.”

“Then please go check the perimeter. Do it quietly. There could be campers or homesteaders, or just hikers. I’ll explain what happened to everyone else. I’m not sure if they’ve ever heard of Oblivios.”

“On it, boss.” Ramses left.

Leona caught her breath so she could think more clearly. “Okay. Oblivios. They came to this planet with the intention of living a more simple life, with very primitive technology. It’s like Castlebourne’s Dome for Pioneers, but for real.”

“They don’t look like pioneers,” Angela pointed out.

“That was 300 years ago. The reason they’re called Oblivios is because they had their minds wiped. The first generations didn’t remember advanced technology. They didn’t even know that they were in a dome, so they didn’t pass stories onto their children. Most of the criticisms of the project were about how they would eventually end up like this. You can’t stop progress. Since whatever dogma they had against tech was lost to them, they couldn’t instill such values into their descendants, so those descendants kept trying to make their lives better.” She pointed back in the direction of the city. “This is where that leads.”

“You’re gonna wanna see this, sir,” Ramses said through comms.

“If you see people, don’t talk to yourself.”

“I’m sure they’ve developed short-range wireless by now. There’s something I don’t think they’ve made yet, though, and I’m looking right at it.”

“Be right there,” Leona responded.

The group walked over to Ramses’ location, and before they caught up, saw what he was referring to. A gargantuan tower rose up into the sky, and disappeared above the clouds. The city they came from was advanced, but not like this. It took the kind of megaengineering that the hosts needed to build the domes themselves. It was hard to tell, but it might have risen all the way up to the ceiling. It might have been structurally necessary, since this dome was so much older than the ones on Castlebourne, but probably not.

Leona tilted her head. “That looks familiar to me. Why does it look familiar?”

“We’ve seen towers before,” Mateo pointed out.

“Yeah...” Leona wasn’t so sure. It was of plain design, but not generic.

“There’s no one around,” Ramses informs them. “Let’s just jump over to the base, and see what’s up with it.”

Leona was hesitant, but she looked around too, and checked her lifesigns detector. They were calibrated for human life, and sufficiently related cousin species, so they should be pretty accurate in a world that didn’t have transhumanism yet, but there was no way to be sure. They weren’t even worried about naked eyes anyway, but surveillance. “Okay, fine. Let’s just slip back into the trees first.”

They hid away, and then teleported to the tower. As soon as they appeared, a door opened up, likely via motion sensor. They all stepped into the elevator, and let it take them all the way up to the top, which yes, was right there at the dome’s zenith. A woman greeted them when the doors opened. “Greetings, travelers. I saw you teleport in. My name is Aeterna Valeria. I run this joint.”

“The tower, or the dome?” Mateo asks.

“Both, I guess.”

“You’re related to Tertius Valerius,” Marie guessed.

“Yeah, he, uhh...he was my father.”

“We just saw him not too long ago,” Romana explained. “He’s still alive.”

“I don’t really see it that way. It’s been something like two hundred years for me.”

There was an awkward pause in the conversation, which Leona needed to break. “So...report?”

“Yeah, we’ll get to that. Are you hungry? I have a synthy. It takes a few hours, but I’ve already synthesized some mashed potatoes and green beans for myself, if you’re interested in joining me. I like leftovers, so I always make extra.”

None of them was hungry, but they agreed to eat to be polite. It was good, and interesting to go back to regular food, instead of just programmable dayfruit or dayfruit smoothie. Leona needed to break the silence again while they were eating. “The people down there. What do they think of this tower?”

“They can’t see it,” Aeterna began to explain. “I have my father’s powers. I make them forget. I make them forget the tower at the same time they’re looking at it. It’s not technically invisible, but effectively so. I exempted you from it when you showed up.”

“Did you notice that they have moved past their original mandate?” Marie pressed.

Aeterna rolled her eyes. “Of course they did. We knew it was gonna happen. Our key contact died, but before she did, she and my father would fight all the time about keeping the dream alive. He said he promised he would erase people’s memories, but that he wouldn’t govern their thoughts. If someone came up with the lightbulb, they could have a freakin’ lightbulb. So that’s what they did, and they kept doing it, and now they’re here.”

“They said something about tunnels,” Mateo brought up.

“Yeah, they interact with the other domes,” Aeterna confirmed.

“How does that work?” Romana questioned.

“The others are pretty good about it. They don’t understand the technology, and they certainly don’t know that there’s a pretty girl up in this tower with magical memory powers, but they play their parts. Most of the nearby domes were also once intentionally primitive, though with no one like me. The Oblivios don’t really get how the dome works, but they know that they can’t go outside. They used drones to find the wall a long time ago, in defiance of the sonic deterrents, and for some reason, they didn’t freak out about it. It looked like a barren wasteland, and it made them sick, but they saw through the ruse anyway, and now they’re about to figure out the whole thing. The weird part about it is that they simply accepted that this was how their little pocket of the universe functioned. I was expecting riots, but everyone’s okay. It’s crazy really; a fascinating social experiment, I’m sure.”

“If they know they’re in a dome, why are you still here?”

“They know they’re in a dome because the data told them so. The drones kept crashing into the holographic walls, and I can wipe their memories of it all I want, but they’re gonna look back at that data, and it’s going to challenge their beliefs. So yeah, I gave up. But they still can’t see the tower. I’m still making them forget that they’re looking at a superscraper in the middle of it all. It’s limited in area, so it’s easier. They’re not looking for it, whereas they were looking for a way through the wasteland.”

“You ever thought about just stopping?” Romana offered.

Aeterna consulted her watch. “Yeah, won’t be long now.”

“What do you mean?” Mateo asked.

“The planet is going through a period of instability,” Aeterna went on. “Back on Earth, technologies like LiDAR were inevitable. Earth is too big, and you gotta navigate it. It’s easier to let computers do it for you. Here, in this cramped space, they didn’t need it. Human-driven cars are fine. You never have to go very far.”

“The tremors finally gave them a reason,” Leona realized.

“Bingo. Necessity being the mother of invention, it was suddenly absolutely necessary that they build sensor arrays to measure the world around them. Weather, for the most part, can be controlled in here, but we can’t stop the ground from shaking. They feel it just like everyone in all the other domes does.”

Ramses nodded. “And as soon as they turn on one of these sensor arrays, it’s going to pick up on the tower that humans keep forgetting, even when a camera records video of it, and plays it back later.”

Aeterna nodded back. “I won’t be able to combat that. And honestly, I shouldn’t try. The tower was a dumb idea that my father had, and I stuck around because once it was built, it couldn’t be dismantled, or it would ruin everything. They thought that someone with our power would have to stay here forever to keep it working, but the scope of this place is not limitless. They were always going to find the wall, and the data from their geological surveys would always contradict their perceptions. The ancestors thought, if they just went back to the way things were, they would stay that way. But that’s not what happened before, or they wouldn’t have needed to leave Earth to reclaim that way of life in the first place. So shortsighted.”

“Why did Tertius leave? He didn’t even tell us that he had a daughter,” Mateo said, worried about how she would react.

“Well, he gave up on the Oblivios a long time ago. I don’t know why I’ve been holding on. I suppose in rebellion to him. I told him, if he left, he couldn’t come back. He has respected that, which I appreciate.”

“It might not have been as long for him as it’s been for you,” Leona reminded her. “I didn’t get the sense that it had been a full 300 years since he last saw me.”

Aeterna shrugged. “Whatever.”

“What if...” Romana began. “What if you did see him again? Would you be mad?”

Aeterna considered the question. “A year ago, I might have been, but as I said, this is all ending anyway, so it would be fine. I’m not gonna break down crying, and hug my daddy, but we wouldn’t fight. Well. I wouldn’t pick a fight. Let’s just say that.”

Romana accepted this answer, and decided that this somehow translated to her taking a matchstick out of her breast pocket, and setting it down on the table ceremoniously.

“What’s that?” Mateo asked.

“It’s a muster match. Light it, and Tertius Valerius will appear.”

“He gave this to you?” Mateo pushed harder. “Why would he do that? Did he know that we would end up here? Did you?”

“Of course she did,” Ramses deduced. “She brought us here.”

Romana’s demeanor didn’t change. She remained cool. “I spend more time in the timeline. I get to know people. He asked me to come here. He said that anytime would be all right, but he clearly really wanted it to happen by 2525, so I’m glad we got a move on with it.”

“I don’t like that you did that,” Ramses admitted. “I don’t like that you messed with my slingdrive.”

“I don’t like that you lied to me,” Mateo added.

“This is between a father and his daughter, but a different father and daughter,” Romana defended. She redirected her attention to Aeterna. “He asked me not to light it. He said that you have to do it, so it’s up to you if it gets lit at all. He did want to be here with you when the tower becomes detectable, but he understands if you’re not ready, and will accept it if you never are.”

Aeterna stared at the match for a moment before picking it up. She held it between her thumb and forefinger for another moment, until slipping the other end between the thumb and forefinger of her other hand. She was about to break it, or was at least contemplating it. No one knew what was going through her head, but it looked like an internal debate as her nostrils flared, and her lips moved, suggestive of the words that she was thinking of. At last, she let go of the match with one hand, and scraped the head against the wooden table. A flame burst out of it. It looked like any normal lit match.

For a second, nothing happened, then a smoke portal appeared a couple of meters away. When the smoke cleared, Tertius was standing there. He smiled kindly at his daughter, barely registering that there were other people in the room. They just regarded each other, her not being able to move, and him not wanting to make the first move. Suddenly, Aeterna burst into tears, and ran over to hug her dad.

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The Advancement of Mateo Matic: July 9, 2491

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When Team Matic landed on Castlebourne for the second time, they discovered that automators had constructed tens of thousands of dome habitats in Vendelin Blackbourne’s absence. They believed this to be a runaway computer problem, but it turned out that Hrockas was making use of these domes to turn this planet into the number one destination for all vonearthans. Even so, after Ramses halted production in the middle of development, they never restarted building more domes. They decided to focus on the ones that had already been made. After all, 83,838 should be enough to tide over the whole population of the galaxy for decades, if not centuries. That 0.3 dome, which was left unsealed, was the last ever made, and it now served a special purpose. This was now where the Vellani Ambassador landed after each mission. Passengers were unloaded, and moved into a maze of self-contained quarantine habitats. It was here that they remained for a period of forty hours while they were tested for contamination, and to get them acclimated to this world’s surface gravity.

Fortydome was built away from most others, not particularly intentionally, but they were taking advantage of its remoteness to protect the rest of the population. There were only two ways in or out; via the vactrain, or up through the opening of what the refugees were calling The Bowl. Hrockas was considering changing the official name since it indeed resembled a bowl, and wasn’t technically a dome. At the moment, the Bowl was empty. Team Kadiar deliberately made it so by not executing any missions in the days leading up to Team Matic’s return to the timestream. Number one, it was good to have the whole place cleared out for major cleaning and disinfection protocols, and the original crew may need the ship for their own goals while they were around. This appeared to be the case today.

“They didn’t give you a name?” Leona asked.

“They spoke on behalf of their superior officer,” Romana replied. “They were very cagey about it, but it was quite important to them that Mateo be there on this day, and they insisted that their intentions were pure.”

Leona looked over at her husband, who looked intrigued. “You have heard of lying, right?”

Mateo shrugged. “I’ve heard of taking a leap of faith.”

“I’m not going to stop you from going, but I’m not going with you,” Leona said. “There’s a chance that you won’t even make it on time. Ramses and Hogarth have not yet modified the slingdrive to stay out of the fourth dimension.”

“You’re not gonna stop me, though?” Mateo asked, unconcerned about anything else she mentioned.

Leona looked back at Romana. “The VA is theirs now. We have no alternative. A captain without a ship is no captain at all.”

“You have never been the captain of the vessel,” Mateo reasoned. “You’re captain of a crew. We still need a leader.”

“Everyone’s become so capable,” Leona argued. “You don’t need me anymore.”

“I will never believe that,” Mateo tried to explain.

“I appreciate that. At any rate, if you think you should go, I think so too. “You can’t be alone, though. You might as well feed two birds with one worm, and spend some time with your daughter. There...there’s your order from a bona fide captain.” Leona disappeared.

“I suppose we don’t need an engineer anymore either,” Mateo pointed out.

“No, you don’t,” Mirage agreed from her speakers.

“Still...someone should say it,” he decided. “Yalla.”

Mirage engaged the subfractional engines, and launched into space. Once they were clear of the edges of the dome, she activated the teleporter, and jumped right into orbit. She then fired up the reframe engine, and sent them into interstellar space.

“Wait, why are we going so far away?” Mateo asked. “Can’t we use the slingdrive from anywhere?”

Mirage appeared as a hologram. “There’s a lot of quantum interference from Castlebourne, and I want to get away from the other time travelers. We’ve realized how sensitive it is, so this is protocol. It won’t be long now.”

“What about us?” he pressed. “She and I metabolize temporal energy.”

Romana took off her jacket, and plopped it over the back of a chair as she was walking towards a wall. The door of a standing pod slid open on its own, and she stepped up into it as she spun around 540 degrees like a ballerina. She smiled at her father. “That’s why we’re not gonna be here.” She jerked her head over to what looked like another pod. Before Mateo could walk towards it, he witnessed Romana’s door close back up. She quickly disappeared.

“It’s based on Dubravka’s timeslipping power,” Mirage explained. “She’ll be back in five minutes. “You need to get in yours too.”

Mateo did as he was told, entering his pod, and stepping back out of it what felt like seconds later. They were now orbiting an alien planet, evidently 16,000 light years away. Someone intercepted the Ambassador while they were on a rescue mission last week. They relayed a message containing these coordinates, and reportedly fully agreed to let Tertius erase their memories of the meeting from their minds. Mateo watched it through the floor viewscreens. “I think I’ve been here before.”

“The locals call it Ex-18118,” Mirage revealed, now back to her disembodied self.

“Yeah, I left Korali here. She thought she would be dead by now, but...hopefully that’s not true. If I’m not here to reunite with her, I don’t know who it could be.”

“Her child?” Romana suggested.

“Maybe.” He took a deep breath in preparation. “Exact surface coordinates?” They appeared on screen. “Okay.” He spread his arms wide, and wrapped them around Romana. They stood there in the hug for a few moments before he teleported them down to the rendezvous spot.

They found themselves next to a calming clear pond. This was exactly where he left Korali five decades ago. Did she just never leave? “Thanks for coming.”

It was her, still alive after all this time. She looked just as young as she was when he last saw her. To his knowledge these people didn’t have anti-aging technology or powers. They lived and died, just as people on Earth did in the early 21st century, and before. “How are you...?”

“I’m good.”

“That’s great, but I mean...” He trailed off again.

“I know what you wanted to say. How am I still alive? Still young? Still painfully sexy and gorgeous?” She reached behind her back, and came back with one of the standard codexa that stored the central archives from the stellar neighborhood. There was no way to know whether this one was the core compendium, the grand repository, or the aggregate records. Leona gave her a copy of all three, only leaving the virtual stacks out of Korali’s library. “It’s the compendium,” she said as if reading his mind. “This tells me how to stay practically immortal.”

“That’s possible, all the way out here?”

“As it turns out,” Korali began, “the planets in the Goldilocks Corridor were terraformed with the same plant life that you can find on Earth. I have everything I need, right within a few square kilometers. I just needed the information, which you graciously gave me.”

“Is that what you’ve been doing, just living off of the plant life?”

Korali giggled. “No. I’ve been real busy. Once we felt sufficiently powerful, we left this settlement, and returned to civilization. We staged a coup, and literally took over the whole world. They didn’t have weapons, so it wasn’t even hard.”

“That wasn’t our plan for you.”

“I know, but we had to make changes. We read the aggregate records too. Some interesting stuff in there. As it turns out, Oaksent isn’t special. Everything he made he stole from someone smarter. What he’s done here has been done a million times before, just with some extra scifi shit. Same story, different dick.”

“So you’re against him now? Full-on?”

“I probably hate him more than you do,” Korali contended. “You’re just a visitor. I was actually oppressed. I’ll never be able to thank you enough for opening my eyes to the truth. You didn’t have to, you could have just killed me. That’s what he would have done in your shoes.”

“So, this is some sort of resistance base?” Romana asked.

Korali darts her chin to look at Romana like she didn’t realize she was standing there the whole time. “It’s nice to meet you.” She held out her hand. “Korali Stinger.”

They shook hands. “Security Officer Romana Matic of the Vellani Ambassador.”

“Any relation?”

“I’m his daughter.”

Korali took a moment to absorb the new information. “Hm.” She went back into the conversation. Not exactly.”

“How do you keep them from blowing you out of the sky?” Korali asked.

Korali held the core compendium codex back up. “Like I said, we learned things. Thanks again for that,” she said to Mateo.

He nodded politely.

“Anyway,” Korali went on, “no, we’re not a resistance base, we’re a refuge.”

Both Mateo and Romana were surprised, and suddenly uncomfortable, because it felt like maybe this conversation was a little less friendly than it started. “Oh.”

“Hey, it’s okay. Why are you worried?” Korali laughed. “Do you think I feel threatened by Castlebourne’s involvement in our affairs? Do you think I think there’s not room for the both of us in this galaxy?”

“Is there...” Romana asked, “room?”

“Of course!” Korali replied. “I’m here to ask you for help! Those motherfuckers are constantly attacking us. They don’t even know where you are. This was a great idea when I came up with it, but it’s a lot of goddamn work. You seem to have some magical form of faster-than-light travel that the central archives don’t even speculate about. You show up daily, and leave mysteriously. I think it’s time we retire Ex-18118, and just let you handle it. But I wanna be involved. I’m not planning on retiring myself.”

“Well, that’s out of my hands,” Mateo admitted. “I’m not part of the project. I don’t exist.”

“I’m aware of that,” Korali said. “I asked you here because I told you that I didn’t want us to wait 47 years to see each other again. We obviously failed that, but at least it hasn’t been 48, right?”

“So this is just a social visit?” he asked.

“Pretty much. I’m glad you brought her, though. Are you who I need to speak with?” she asked Romana.

“The rest of the crew didn’t come with us,” Romana answered. “None of us would be able to make such a decision unilaterally.”

“It’s urgent, but I wouldn’t call it an emergency,” Korali determined. “When you’re ready to discuss a partnership, you know where I live. I’m guessing you’re not interested in telling me where you do.”

“Not my call either,” Romana told her.

“We’ll be right back.” Mateo took Romana’s hand, and jumped them back to the ship.

“Mirage, why have you been so quiet?”

“She has technology,” Mirage said as a hologram. “She would be able to hear us.”

“Even though our comms work through bone conduction?” Mateo questioned.

“Even with an inducer,” Mirage began, “there is some sound leakage. She has a device that can detect faint sounds, and greatly amplify them.”

“She’s trying to eavesdrop on us,” Romana noted. “That’s not a good sign. It sounds like she was one of them. Are you sure she’s switched sides?”

“I’m not,” Mateo acknowledged.

“Her allegiances have shifted, but not to us,” Mirage said. “This is a resistance base, not a refuge. I mean, I suppose you could argue that it is, but its purpose is to consolidate control into a new empire.”

“She’s Bronach 2.0?” Mateo shook his head.

“Not from what I can gather. She wants power, like him, but she doesn’t want to oppress people. She believes that Earthan technology and knowledge is the best path forward for the Corridor. She’s probably brought you here so we stop taking all of her people away. You see, every single person we escort to Castlebourne is a potential member of her army. They’re expressing dissatisfaction with their lives, and that’s who she’s been trying to target. They’re the ones that she could theoretically fold into her competing society instead.”

“We’re in her way, but at the same time, she needs us, because Castlebourne currently has over 300,000 people.” Romana started to work it out in her head. “So she won’t attack, but she’s trying to play us.”

“I don’t understand how her strategy will ultimately lead to you transporting people to her planet, but maybe I’m not smart enough,” Mateo said.

“No, I don’t know either,” Mirage said. “She may be intending to change her tune after developing a rapport, and arguing that people from the Goldilocks Corridor belong in the Goldilocks Corridor. I don’t think she knows how far away we are, she may just be guessing that we’re near Earth.”

“This is good to know,” Mateo began, “but I meant what I said down there. This isn’t my decision. We have to go back so you can brief your team.”

“You’re right, but we can’t leave without saying goodbye.”

“I’ll handle that,” Mateo glanced over at the local readout for the slingdrive’s coherence gauge. “Just plot a course to safe territory with the reframe engine so we can wait it out until it’s time to make another jump.”

“Aye, Captain,” Mirage joked.

He smirked, and saluted her.

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The Advancement of Mateo Matic: May 24, 2445

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Generated by Google Gemini Advanced text-to-image AI software, powered by Imagen 2

They were still getting updates from their friends all over the Goldilocks Corridor. Things were changing. The Ex-666ers had formed a rebellion, and were at the beginning of a war against the establishment, particularly the military planet of Ex-182. It was pretty bad, and some will fault Team Matic for starting it, but this region of space was being ruled by an oppressive empire. Only a naïve fool would think that the end of such unjust violence would be caused by an abstract injection of peace. It was always going to end up like this. Things were going to get worse before they got better, but they were going to get better, and in order to keep going, everyone had to truly believe that.

After they left Korali with her people on Ex-18118—a designation which still bothered Ramses—they jumped back up to the Vellani Ambassador, and flew off to a random meteor to prepare for their next mission. They were finally going to Ex-42, which would hopefully give them the answers that they need to find Ex-69, which was their true goal. That was why the updates regarding the freedom fighters from Ex-666 were important, because it sort of gave them permission to skip all of the worlds in their original path. It was time to buckle down and focus. They didn’t have a plan, because they had yet to meet anyone who had ever been to Ex-42, except for Korali, who admitted to only having seen a very small part of it. Besides, while she was friendly with them, and promised not to rat them out, she remained loyal to the Empire, and refused to provide them knowledge that could dismantle a system that she still believed in.

While they were gone, the ship parked itself in a hiding spot, and turned itself invisible, as per usual. This was a particularly risky mission, though. They would likely face profound opposition from whoever ran the archives. Being invisible was only good enough while they were stationary. When they were moving, even at only subfractional speeds, they still gave off a heat signature, just like any other vessel. They needed some way of being totally imperceptible, to the naked eye, and other sensors. This was where the Heat Shunt came into play. This was one of those projects that Ramses worked on when he wasn’t actively participating in missions. Though not completely finished, it was finally ready to at least be used once. It worked by shoving all waste heat into a totally uninhabitable pocket dimension. The space within this pocket was not infinite, so all that energy had to be released eventually, which they were intending to do at safe times, like when they were traveling at reframe speeds anyway, or near a star, whose intense radiation would mask the negligible signature of a heat dump.

This made them truly invisible, as long as they didn’t forget to purge it eventually. Ramses included safeguards, which would trigger a purge automatically as it approached critical mass, but this was not a perfect solution. What if they were, say, on the surface of a planet, or docked at a space station? He was contemplating a means to a telejettison subroutine, which would dispatch the dimensional generator to a safe distance, but it wasn’t only about distance. The specific vector mattered, and that was always different. The teleporter might have to calculate the destination on the fly. To address the constantly changing variables, it was probably better to make those calculations constantly as well. Hopefully, this was not anywhere near a problem yet, and they wouldn’t have to worry about it until another day. For now, it just had to work in the first place. “Hot pocket is live,” Ramses announced confidently.

“Is that what we’re calling it?” Leona asked.

“You got a problem with that?”

“I guess not, they don’t exist anymore.”

“What don’t exist anymore?”

Leona was done with the conversation. “Is everyone ready to go?”

They were all standing on the bridge. While their enhanced substrates would help them survive in many harsh environments, redundancy was a core principle of SCR&M, so they were also wearing Integrated Multipurpose Suits. These were not the result of one of Ramses’ projects. They were standard dress for spacefarers in the stellar neighborhood, and to varying degrees, average, everyday people, and Mirage had equipped the Ambassador with enough for the whole team, and more. They came in layers, each one designed to protect the wearer from projectiles, blades, concussive forces, or even radiation. Different models had a different mix of these layers. The ones that they were wearing right now had all of the layers, for ultimate protection. To be honest, they looked pretty badass, standing there in the same sleek black and gray outfits, their air packs and helmets affixed to the back with magnets. Though, they didn’t have to look the same. The outer layer could shift colors to match personal preferences. They nodded affirmatively at Leona’s question.

“All right. Yalla.”

Marie engaged the subfractional engines, and headed towards the inner solar system. Before they knew anything about this place, they expected to find another space station, like Ex-467, but it wasn’t. It wasn’t a planet either. According to Korali’s intel, it was the smallest possible coalesced asteroidal sphere. That was, it only had enough gravity to form into a sphere, as opposed to the usual oblong shape of some other subplanetary bodies. A moon. It was basically a moon, except that it orbited the host star directly, and had Earth-comparable surface gravity, which Korali figured was powered artificially by a microsingularity in the center, though no one ever specified to her while she was there, and she never bothered to question it.

They made it into orbit. Ramses had to stay with the Ambassador, so he could monitor the new hot pocket. He insisted that he do this alone, so the rest of the team could teleport into the facility, even though they had agreed to never let that happen. They were already down one person, and they still didn’t know what they might be up against in there. He promised to stay on comms, and request help if he needed it. To be fair, his would probably be the safest job. Theirs was not going to be easy. Stealth continued to be vital while on the ground, and there was a downside to that.

“Okay.” Olimpia huddled them up. “Invisibility is invisibility. There’s no magical way to let you see others who are also invisible. I suppose Ramses could try to work on that later, but until then, we need to lean heavily into our group empathy. Try to stay connected at all times. We don’t have a built-in homing device to locate each other, but we should be able to get a sense of distance and direction. I thought about having us hold hands, or tying a rope between us, but there are so many things that could go wrong with either of those options. Invisibility is hard to maintain; harder than other illusions. You have to constantly let the light pass around you, and I do mean to use the word let, because if you concentrate on doing it, you will probably only end up psyching yourself out. Just...go with the flow.” She loosened herself up to demonstrate extreme chill.

“Thank you, Pia,” Leona said. “If any of you feel like you’re losing it, jump back to the ship. It’s better to be safe than sorry. We don’t know what people look like there, or how well they recognize each other’s faces. We might be able to blend in with them with holographic illusions, but it’s impossible to say for sure, so this is our only hope. The situation may change when we get down there, but I can’t promise anything. We will resort to brute force if we have to. I want..that information. Is everyone cool with that?”

They nodded.

“Okay.” Leona nodded too, and then looked back over at Ramses. “You good?”

He was munching on a snack, so he just held up an a-okay sign.

Leona made sure to make eye contact with each member of the away team. With a shrug of her eyebrows, she decided to repeat, “yalla.” They turned themselves invisible, and jumped.

They were immediately assaulted by a sensory overload when they landed inside the archive facility. A siren was blaring, trying to deafen their ears. Lights were flashing all around them, making it impossible to get a good look at what was around them. They were immediately wet, and getting wetter. It felt like a room temperature mist was falling all over the place. When they could get a look at it, the water appeared to be a neon orange, rather than transparent. They found themselves on the floor pretty much immediately, or that’s what they assumed. It was also difficult to keep track of the passage of time as they were squirming around in...baby powder? Someone yelled that they should try to teleport back up to orbit, but they couldn’t. The rubber band snapped them right back to where they were whenever one of them tried. At least the teleportation dampener didn’t hurt, as it did on that one planet. It was just an unbreakable barrier.

“Korali gave us up!” Marie cried.

“I won’t believe it!” Mateo shouted back.

“Who else knew what we could do?” Leona questioned. “This is obviously a trap for us!”

“Who else knew?” Mateo echoed. “Anyone who noticed that we only ever show up once a year, like Santy Claus!”

They could sense Olimpia trying to send Ramses the feeling of escape that they agreed upon, which was marked by rapidly switching between regret and satisfaction, over and over and over again. He replied that he understood by sending it back. After a few times, he left his own feelings on regret, which was likely what he was truly feeling at the time, due to having to leave them behind. They didn’t make any sort of specific plan for what to do after the designated survivor escaped, but he would probably go seek help from Ex-666, or maybe one of the Caretakers.

The lights and sounds ceased, but the mist still fell, and they were still covered in the powder. Theoretically, all they would have to do was to incorporate the new outer coating on their bodies into the invisibility illusion, but they were not feeling well enough to do that. Mateo was particularly out of sorts since he was relentless with his attempts to teleport back to Ramses, and was extremely exhausted. They were only as strong as their weakest link, so they were stuck as the bad guy walked up to them.

“Sir, be careful,” someone said.

“I know what I’m doing.” They recognized that voice. It was Bronach Oaksent himself. Yay! They didn’t even have to figure out where Ex-69 was! Their enemy came right to them. How nice of him. Now he just needed to give them a few minutes to several hours to recover from this, and then they could put up their dukes. He crouched down in front of Leona. “How does it feel? How does it feel, knowing that nothing you do matters? You think you made any sort of impact in my empire? You think that was the first prison break I’ve ever seen? You think I can’t blow up all of the ships that they commandeered with a wave of my hand?” He held up a hand, and kept it aloft.

Leona blinked, struggling to see him better, as the mist cleared up, and her vision returned. She saw him smirking, and occasionally looking over at his own hand, as if he was anticipating that dreadful wave, and that he didn’t necessarily have any control over it. There was a chance that an actual wave of that hand could trigger the mass death that he was warning them about. “State your terms,” Leona responded, making herself fully visible again, and staring back at him with an expression of professionalism, but not letting herself appear weak, or submissive to him.

“Call your boy back. I wanna take a look at that pretty purple ship o’ yours.”

Leona tapped on her comms. “Ramses, come back. Open a channel, and ask for a place to dock.”

“I’m on my way, sweet girl,” Ramses replied.

Bronach dropped his hand and chuckled. “I admit, we can’t detect if that message went out, or if you’re bluffing, but you go ahead and send another one. He has ten minutes, or I’m killing one of you. Then it’s one person every...thirty minutes, I guess.”

“He heard,” Leona explained.

“I’ll be there in five.”

“He’ll be here in five. Tell him where to go.”

Bronach looked up at his man-servant, and nodded. The man-servant walked away with purpose. Bronach stood back up himself, and suggested that the team do the same. “No more tricks, please. I’m an honest man. We may disagree, but know that. I don’t like to lie, and I don’t like to fake it.”

Leona stood, and took a breath. “Even Donald Trump didn’t drink alcohol. Doesn’t make him a saint.” The rest of the team stood as well, now visible.

Bronach laughed. “I don’t know who that is.” He started to wander around the room, playing with the mist that continued to fall, though it was no longer neon. “Do you know why I called this place Ex-42?”

“Because it holds the answer to life, the universe, everything?” Olimpia figured.

“No,” Bronach contended. “Wrong reference. It’s because the information stored here keeps the island from blowing up. He placed airquotes around the words, implying a connection to the show LOST, though it was difficult to comprehend a reality where an alien had a frame of reference for that and Douglas Adams, but not Trump. He smiled. “And it does more than that. It does a lot more.”

“Remember the lining of your suit?” Ramses asked through comms. “You noticed how different it was from the standard model. Open your hands, and tap both of those seams twice fast with your pinkies. The hot pocket is about to explode, so on my mark...” He waited for a few seconds. “Now!”

The seams that he was talking about were around their crotches. The gesture that he was describing carried a crude meaning, which was surely the point. But still, they had to do it, and they did it in sync. Personal force fields formed around them just in time for the explosion that blasted into the room. The ship was not designed with a weapon, but that heat shunt could be purged safely...or not so safely. They were protected, but not unmoved, by the eruption. It threw them across the room, but they didn’t run into a wall. Instead, they landed in a river outside.

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Microstory 1804: Good Opinions and Right Choices

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I was raised in an extremely hostile environment. My parents were racist, hateful, and mean. When my older brother was first growing up, he tried to rebel against them. He didn’t go full liberal—because he didn’t know what that meant—but he didn’t agree with the kinds of things they would say. And they weren’t super obvious about it. They didn’t go around claiming that black people were inferior. They just used very unclever cover words like urban and hoodlum. They weren’t as inconspicuous as they thought they were, though, and my brother wanted no part of it. Unfortunately, they decided they weren’t going to give him a choice. They verbally abused him until he stopped talking all that lovey dovey nonsense. The world didn’t use terms like snowflake and libtard back then, but they would have loved it if they had been alive to learn them. Anyway, when I was old enough to start possibly making my own decisions, my brother realized how similar we were. He taught me to pretend to be like our family. I let them think that I was all about letting poor people die on the streets to save the dollar in my pocket, and not getting upset about the injustices we would see on the news. I did a really great job, blending in as the good little conservative boy that I was expected to be. I did too good of a job, actually. They were so proud of me. My brother and I had about the same grades in school, but since they were so disappointed in him, it was like I was the second coming of the messiah. I also had to pretend to believe in the messiah. I wasn’t an exceptional student, or person in general, but I could do no wrong, and my parents did what they could to give me the opportunities they felt that I deserved.

They paid my way into a preparatory school, which led me to a really great college. I hated every minute of it, but I figured I would take my free education, and do something positive with it. The problem was that I was so used to pretending to be an entitled prick that it was too hard to turn off at this point. I let them get me conscripted into a secret underground brotherhood, which was designed to foster a network of good ol’ boys who help each other go places, and get out of jams. It was so rough, being around people with such wrong opinions. I know people say that there’s no such thing as a wrong opinion, but those people’s opinions are wrong. There is a right way to think about how the world should be run, and a very bad way. It was impossible to walk away, though, and not because the only way out would have been in a bodybag, but because it was so tempting to accept their gifts. With their help, I was poised to step on a lot of heads, and make a lot of money. At that point, I didn’t really care that everyone who was helping me get there disgusted me to my core. Because maybe they didn’t. Maybe they weren’t so bad. None of my brothers were violent or outwardly intolerant either. They were great at hiding it, and some of them probably weren’t even that conservative at all. That’s obviously how the secret society formed, but we all make our own choices. I had to make a choice too. I had to do something to become my own man, and stop letting my family dictate how the world should see me. The brotherhood fed into a militia. Not everyone joined it, but it was an option. I continued to pretend, and took the path towards that anti-government group. They accepted me, and armed me, and it wasn’t long before they decided to plan an attack on the capitol. Before they could, I warned the authorities, and got the place raided. I finally made the right choice, and it was my last.