Castlebourne Capital Community: Here by Default (Part I)

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The year was 2521. Dreychan didn’t agree that it should be, though. He had the idea to stop tying themselves to the Earthan calendar, and form their own identity. Unfortunately, it wasn’t that popular of an idea, and one of the reasons was that a lot of people living here didn’t have a very decent grasp of the passage of time anyway. On some homeworlds, it wasn’t necessary. They produced what they were indoctrinated to believe should be produced for the Empire, and that was just how things were. You didn’t need to know what day it was. The transport ships would come and grab what they demanded on their own schedule. As long as everyone kept up with quota, everything was fine. They weren’t living in the Goldilocks Corridor anymore, however, and were not subject to the Exin Empire’s rule. They needed to assimilate into this region of space while somehow forming a new, distinctive culture. That was no easy feat, and it wasn’t Dreychan’s job to do that. Perhaps in the future, when the war is over, they will be able to focus on their own self-fulfillment. For now, though, they just needed to survive.

Everyone was arguing over each other, and Dreychan was staying out of it. He didn’t have much choice. They never listened to him anyway. They called it the Council of Old Worlds. Everyone here represented the planet where they once lived, and were elected by their constituent refugees, according to whatever methods they chose. Of course, a ton of people didn’t even understand the concept of voting, so it took some time, and a lot of education, but they all figured it out. Dreychan was different. You might even call it special, but be careful who you say that to, or they’ll laugh you out of the room. He was the only person from his planet who agreed to come to safe harbor on Castlebourne.

Ex-777 was one of the few places where the residents didn’t suffer. They were the ones benefitting from all the labor that the slaves on the other planets performed. The only known world more desirable was Ex-999, or maybe Ex-69, depending on your priorities and proclivities. The rest of the Council hated Dreychan, which he thought was ridiculous. He was the one person who defected. If anything, they should revere him. They escaped to a better world, but for him, it was a lateral move, but not even that, because he was too busy to enjoy all the recreation that Castlebourne had to offer.

Ugh, he should stop feeling sorry for himself. Yes, he was only on the Council by default, and yes, he deserved to have his voice heard anyway, but it wasn’t irrational for them to ignore it. He wasn’t representing anyone, but that was exactly why they did need to listen, because this council shouldn’t exist. They shouldn’t be maintaining their old world connections. They should all become one peoples. How could he get through to them?

“What do you think?”

Dreychan just sat there, and yawned a little.

“Drey,” she urged.

“What? Are you talking to me?” They weren’t usually talking to Dreychan.

“We need your opinion.” What was her name? Ex-777ers were all born with names, but just about everyone else only had a number. It was a way for the Empire to dehumanize its subjects. Once they came here, they were told that they could start using names now, and there were various ways of choosing them. He just couldn’t recall hers right now, which was very bad of him. She was actually quite nice, and didn’t seem to hold the same grudge against Dreychan as the others.

“What was the question?” Dreychan asked awkwardly.

“Oh my God.” Now, Dreychan knew Maaseiah. There was no way he was gonna forget a name like that. The Corridor was 16,000 light years away, and actually predated Earth’s bible times due to time travel, so none of Earth’s religions existed there. This meant that Maaseiah had to do a ton of research to decide on the most obnoxious name he could possibly find. He seemingly wanted to put his delusions of grandeur on full display, and he freakin’ nailed it. “Do you want to be a part of this, or not?”

The lovely woman sighed—Lubiti! That was her name. He didn’t know why she chose it. He was remembering now that she was from Ex-883, which manufactured spaceship shielding plates, and really that was it. “Calm down, Masy.” She always called everyone by a nickname. It was exciting to learn that names could be unique and interesting, and even more exciting to learn that each one came with variations and alternate spellings. She turned to face Dreychan again. “We’re trying to decide whether we want to move Castlebourne closer towards the Core Worlds, or stay out here in the Charter Cloud.” This was a fascinating concept. The closest colonies to Earth were the most cohesive, and the farther out you went, the less familiar the culture and laws became. These were divided into three-dimensional bands. The Charter Cloud wasn’t the farthest, but it was beyond the stellar neighborhood, which meant they were afforded no protection from hostile forces. They had to protect themselves, and the decision was already made to simply leave the area entirely.

“Hrockas needs an answer,” Maaseiah explained. Hrockas literally owned this whole planet himself. He was the one who built the domes, and filled it with all the fun and interesting things to do. He graciously let the refugees live here when they had nowhere else to go. He was even more powerful than the Council. “He said he needed it yesterday, which I suspect was metaphorical, though he might be expecting us to send a message back in time, which we will need to look into. Teemo, write that down.”

Teemo wrote it down. He was from a world with very few refugees, so it was relatively easy for him to be elected the council representative, though unlike Dreychan’s case, the ones who chose to stay behind did so because they were too scared. They were right to be, given Castlebourne’s predicament now.

Dreychan had already thought of this, because he was good at being ahead of the game. He just didn’t have all the facts. “If we move closer in,” he begins, “will we join the neighborhood? Will our status amongst the other worlds change?”

“No,” Lubiti answered.

“So we’ll be...weird. There might be colonies farther out than us who are better protected due to us being an anomaly.”

“I don’t agree with that interpretation,” Maaseiah countered. “To get to one of the other colonies, they might have to pass by us. In fact, I propose we intentionally place our star close to another colony, so we can receive some ancillary protection from them. From what I gather, the Teaguardians volunteer their firepower to protect the colonies. Surely if we ask for help, they will just help us, even if we’re not technically entitled to it. It would be a lot easier if we were only a couple light years away when we ask, though.” Teaguardians were battleships that came from an outpost called Teagarden, which orbited Teegarden’s Star. They evidently didn’t stray far from the root word. They were only obligated to provide protection to the Core Worlds and the stellar neighborhood. Castlebourne didn’t qualify, and it was sounding like it never would, even if they moved themselves closer.

“The whole point of moving our host star is to not have to ask for protection,” Lubiti reasoned. “We’re trying to hide, which is why we should limit the number of people who know where we are. Our location has already been leaked. Let’s not let it leak again, because we don’t know if we’ll be able to move again. Hrockas never told us how it’s going to be accomplished in the first place. It may be a one time thing.” She was so right about that. “Do you agree?” she pressed Dreychan.

“I do,” he said, and not just because she was pretty, and he never did find someone to love on Ex-777. “We must stay in the Charter Cloud. Our anonymity is our greatest strength. We can swing quite far from here, and still stay a hundred and eight light years from Earth. Hell, we could go a little farther.”

“We can’t go farther,” someone else contended. Dreychan didn’t know his name, but he used to work out of Ex-741, which was a giant spaceship manufacturing plant, so he understood all this light year/special relativity stuff. “I mean, we technically could, but we shouldn’t. Castlebourne serves as a recreational hub for the entire colonial sphere. Everyone wants to come here, and the population is rising exponentially. Now, quantum communication allows them to make their connections without knowing our coordinates, but vast distances are more difficult than closer ones. It’s called coherence. Hrockas will not want to make the casting equipment work harder than it has to. If anything, we should get a little bit closer, but I agree that we ought to stay in the Charter Cloud, and mostly move laterally, relative to the Core.”

“We must remember that it is not our call exclusively,” Lubiti jumped back in. “Hrockas is asking for our input, not our decision. He probably will want to move a little closer, but stay in the Cloud, because that’s what gave him the freedom from the establishment. And don’t forget that we have our own defenses. We don’t need the Teaguardians. If the Oaksent finds us again, and we can’t get away, we can fight back. We will fight for our new home.”

“I agree with Biti,” Dreychan said.

“Of course you do,” Maaseiah spat.

Dreychan ignored that outburst. “If for no other reason than to stay in his good graces, we should give Hrockas the answer that he prefers. What is easier on him and whoever has this power to move a sun? What do they want to do?”

“Okay.” Council Chair Rezurah stood up. “I think it’s time for another vote. If we can secure the supermajority right here, I will be able to meet with Hrockas today to determine the particulars. Worst case, we will get back to you tomorrow morning for Council approval. If all goes well, we should be traveling at relativistic speeds by the end of the month. I urge you to vote wisely, as this decision could mean the difference between staying hidden, and being discovered by the enemy. Teemo, you’ll count this time, as you have not done it in a while.” They rotated this responsibility to make it fair, and to make sure that no one would have more than one opportunity to cheat.

The vote went in favor of Lubiti and Dreychan’s plan. Well, it wasn’t really theirs, and very much not his. Around half of the people agreed with it before they even started, and half of the rest had come around. Rezurah went off to her meeting with Hrockas, which she was already late for, and the Council meeting was closed. Dreychan was just going to return to his habitat, as he did every day, but Lubiti stopped him in the hallway. “Hey, a few of us were going to have some fun in 2.5Dome. You interested?”

“I don’t know what that is,” Dreychan responded, when he really should have just politely declined, since he didn’t like anyone who might be going besides her, and he wasn’t really the fun type. All his old peers were surprised that someone chose to give up paradise to become a refugee, but not surprised that it was him. He liked the boring life.

“It’s hard to explain. You just kinda have to see it. Come on!” she encouraged.

He did want to spend more time with her, to maybe see if his sudden feelings were just because she was the only person in the world who would give him the time of day, or if they were more substantial. “Okay. Sure. Why not?”

They sat alone together in a vactrain pod. The others had evidently either already left, or would be meeting up with them later. Despite Lubiti’s mild protests, Dreychan ended up looking through the prospectus for this adventure dome. There was reportedly a time when video games on Earth were so unsophisticated that they were two-dimensional. The player could move up or down or side to side, but no other direction. In fact, a lot of them apparently wouldn’t even let you move your character backwards, if there was something you missed before. The other half dimension was because the playspace was in base reality, so it was still technically 3D. Still, they would be in a very narrow field of play, and had to make it through the level without falling, or being killed by something. Both the prospectus and Lubiti assured him that the dome came with a number of different varieties. Most of this world’s visitors could die and come back to life in new bodies, so they could actually fall into a river of lava and be fine. For people like them, who only had one life to live, the levels were a lot safer, though the reviews promised that they were still fun. Good for her, not great for him.

The train stopped. They stepped off, and approached the counter for registration. “Froenoe, party of three. We already filled out our info, and signed consent forms.”

They did? That was news to Dreychan. He certainly didn’t sign anything. Whatever, he trusted her. But hold on, party of three?

Lubiti sensed his confusion. “It’s better in small groups. The others will be running their own game nearby.”

“Yes, I have you here,” the registration bot said to Lubiti. “Your third is already at the entrance.” He set two green bracelets on the counter between them. “These are your security bands. If you ever run into issues, squeeze that button, and a door will open up on the side wall, where you can step out onto a platform that follows you around the whole time.” Scary, but at least there was a theoretical way out.

“Thanks,” Lubiti said. She took the bands, and then they listened to a little more about how safe it was, that no one has ever been permanently hurt, and all that stuff.

They then took another train to their playspace, where they found none other than Maaseiah waiting for them. That was the most surprising development today. He and Lubiti didn’t seem to like each other, and he really didn’t like Dreychan. “Is he ready?”

“No. That’s the point,” Lubiti replied. Something had changed in her voice. She was no longer smiley and light, but overserious, and maybe a little angry? It was so confusing, Dreychan didn’t understand what was happening.

The three of them stepped through the entrance, and onto the first platform. It was very narrow. They would be able to pass each other, but only if they squeezed by, facing the restrictive walls, one way or another. After the door closed, a third wall slid across in front of it, and then began to make its way towards them. Yes, this was one of the ones that didn’t let you go backwards. Lubiti and Maaseiah walked a few meters forward. There weren’t any obstacles yet. They must have wanted you to get acclimated to the environment first. Shockingly, they exchanged a nod, then pressed their emergency buttons at the same time. Two doors opened up next to them.

“What’s going on?” Dreychan questioned, laughing, trying to sound friendly.

“We can’t trust you,” Maaseiah contended. “We can’t trust you to know where Castlebourne will move to. For all we know, you’re the one who leaked our location in the first place.”

“I didn’t,” Dreychan insisted for the umpteenth time.

“And now you never will.” Lubiti took one step through her special exit.

“You know I have one of those too,” Dreychan reminded them, shaking his green bracelet for them to see. It glowed a little in the dim lighting.

“Press it all you want,” Lubiti replied with a shrug. “I broke it.” She left, as did Maaseiah.

Dreychan pressed his button. He pressed again and again, but she wasn’t lying. There was no escape. The moving wall hit him in the ass, forcing him to move forward. He just stood there, letting it slide him down the path, ready to fall into the next foam pit or water tank. But it wasn’t foam, or water. It was lava. He could actually die here.

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The Advancement of Mateo Matic: August 10, 2523

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They should have realized that Ramses!324, a.k.a Tok’ra’s responsibilities and loyalties would remain with the people of New Welrios. Apparently, the two factions there had managed to become one cohesive peoples since the rest of Team Matic—including a different version of Ramses—was there. When they sent Old!Bronach back to the Goldilocks Corridor to reclaim his throne, they asked Team Kadiar to ask Tok’ra for his assistance in this matter. It would be his job to make sure that Old!Bronach became a decent leader, and started treating his people well. They never really found out how Tok’ra took it. They didn’t even know how the crew of the Vellani Ambassador broached the subject; whether it was more a command or more of a request. He apparently accepted his new role out of some sense of guilt, which wasn’t what they wanted. More recently, however, he put his foot down, and returned to his roots on New Welrios.

They had become a powerhouse over the last century, armed with a plethora of technologies that Tok’ra built for them. They were completely untouchable, much in the same way that Vitalemus was. Even The Oaksent was reportedly scared of getting near it, or even sending troops. Also like Vitalemus, they had evidently stayed out of the politics, and were satisfied with being independent and isolated. They were living proof that Oaksent’s hold on this sector of the galaxy wasn’t as strong as they once believed. The movies made it look easy, but it was probably pretty hard to keep control over so many worlds. Things had only gotten harder since the team showed up. They hadn’t realized how much of an impact they had had, but things were looking up.

Leona managed to convince the other parties to let the New Welriosians speak. They didn’t want to be so distant anymore. They wanted to participate in the community. The negotiations started back up again. Some of the agreements they had come up with last year had to be scrapped or replaced, but many weren’t rendered obsolete by this development. They pushed forward, and were almost home free. All that was left were signatures of all parties involved. It may have taken a long time, but they seemed to be able to agree that they wanted peace. That wasn’t possible just a couple of years ago. It was going to be a perpetual struggle, just as it was in the Sixth Key, but they should be able to handle it.

There was just one more thing before the deal could be finalized, at least according to everyone but Tok’ra, Dubra and Kivi, and Team Matic. The other negotiators had evidently come up with a new demand during the interim  year, which they decided not to bring up until the New Welrios situation could be resolved. Korali volunteered to be the one to speak for the group. “We want slingdrive technology.” She smiled, thinking that she had them right where they wanted them. “Nothing gets signed until we get it.”

Mateo stared over the table at her. “There are seven of us in total. We are in this room for you. This is not to our benefit. If you fail to sign these agreements, the VA will continue to ferry refugees to their new rightful home on Castlebourne. And in the midst of all that, the rest of you can fight it out all you bloody want. It’s sad, and we feel for the people of the Goldilocks Corridor, whether they identify with the Exin Empire, or otherwise. We won’t feel bad about our decision to bug out, however, because we did everything we could. And again, there are only seven of us. No one would blame us for failing to fix the whole universe. We will not let you get your hands on this technology. There is no threat you could make to change our minds. So sign it, don’t sign it; I don’t care anymore...our job is done. You never had any leverage against us. We came to this world in good faith to help, but we’ll only let that go so far before we hit our breaking point.” He stood up. “Let’s get out of here, ladies, back to Castlebourne.”

Bronach stood up as well. “If you leave, we can’t guarantee the safety of your new homeworld. Even if we do sign this, nothing we agreed to in the document bars us from attacking your region of the galaxy.”

“Do what you must,” Mateo responded. “We’ll take care of our people.” He looked over at his old friend. “It was nice meeting you, Tok’ra.”

Tok’ra nodded back respectfully.

Mateo, Leona, Angela, and Romana disappeared in a flash of technicolors.

They found themselves floating in the middle of outerspace, rather than on a planet, or even near one. Mateo laughed. “Slingdrive still slingin’.”

“That was a good speech you made, love,” Angela said to him. It was up to Leona to figure out what was going on, and to see if they could determine where they ended up, and they all knew it, so there was no point in vocalizing the plan of action. They just let her do her thing.

“Do you mean it?” Mateo asked.

“You said what we were all thinking,” Romana noted.

“Constellations are the same,” Leona interjected.

“They use constellations here?” Angela questioned.

“Well, they’re not named constellations, like Taurus or Leo. It’s just a map of the firmament as seen from our coordinates. We could be a couple light years off course and still be in the right vicinity, but...I would also be able to see the host star, which I can’t. The whole solar system is missing.”

“Wait, I’m getting a message.” Mateo tapped on his wristband.

“So am I,” Romana confirmed.

They listened to the message together. “Friends. This is Ramses. I can’t tell you what it took to get Hrockas to let me drop this buoy in the water for you to find. He hooked up with a powerful time traveler, who agreed to literally move the star system. This is to prevent any enemy from ever finding us. Ever. Depending on when you return, we’re probably only five or ten light years away at this point. Please retrieve the buoy, so no one else can find us. It includes an onboard tracker, which will pinpoint our exact location. Don’t leave it there, please. Rocky’ll have my ass.”

“I see where the beacon is,” Leona said. “It will only take us one normal jump to get there.”

They all teleported away, and took hold of the buoy. Leona popped the access panel open, and started working on the tracker. It wasn’t just there for them to consult on the first screen. She had to log into the system using her credentials, then go through this whole security system to prove her identity. If she made one little mistake, the entire thing would apparently self-destruct, so she had to be very careful and methodical.

“Do we have enough power for a second jump?” Romana asked. “It’s looking a little low to me.”

“It’ll be pretty short compared to where we just came from,” Mateo said to her. “I’m sure we’ll be fine.”

“We’ll wait several hours to be safe while our safety levels rise,” Leona said as she was still working. “They will not have traveled very far at all in that time.”

“Wait, what about the Vellani Ambassador?” Angela realized. “They need to find Castlebourne’s new location too. In fact, if it’s constantly on the move, they’ll need constant updates to keep up.”

Leona stopped and sighed. “That’s a good point. We can’t leave this here, though. Hrockas will be mad. I’m sure he went to great lengths to hide. The new coordinates cannot be allowed to fall into the wrong hands. But we have no idea when Team Kadiar will come back too. We just left them behind, and we cannot communicate with them from this distance.”

“We have to go back,” Romana urged.

“Correction,” Leona said. She tapped one more button, like it was the last one she needed. “We’ll go back. You need to stay here to protect the buoy. We don’t know what the VA’s quintessence levels are. They might not be able to return until tomorrow. We also may not be able to find them at all, so you can be our back-up messenger.”

“Leona, we’re not leaving my daughter here alone.”

“There’s a pocket dimension attached to this buoy. She can rest in stasis, and wait for someone else to arrive.”

“What if that someone else is an enemy, who blows this thing out of the sky?”

“They won’t be able to find it,” Leona reasoned. “I’m turning off the beacon. Only we or the Ambassador will be able to reconnect with it.”

“It’s okay, dad, I can do this. I’m the only one who can turn off my pattern.”

“I don’t like you to use that loophole all the time,” Mateo argued. “It’s so...lonely. I was never lonely. I met Leona right away after I started slipping time, and it wasn’t even two weeks before she joined my pattern. You shouldn’t have to keep doing this for us. We shouldn’t keep putting you in this position.”

“What’s the point of a loophole if we can’t use it to loop holes?” She winced. “You know what I mean. I won’t really be alone, I’ll be asleep. And I’ll only wake up if my sisters show up.”

He reached out and hugged her the best he could with their suits on. “Argh!”

She smiled at him, then receded her nanites so she was just wearing jeans and a t-shirt. He did the same, so they could hug each other for real. I love you, she mouthed.

I love you too, he mouthed back.

They each reengaged suit mode, then Romana had Leona help her access to pocket dimension. They could still hear her in there through comms, so she was able to promise that everything was okay. It was pitch black, but her suit was equipped with everything she needed. She said her goodbyes, then initiated stasis. Leona needed to watch her vitals, and run diagnostics on her behalf, before they could leave her behind. Once she was satisfied that Romana was going to be all right on her own, it still wasn’t time to leave just yet, because their own slingdrives weren’t safe enough to make another jump. Finally, though, after the waiting period, the three of them synced up their tandem slingdrives, and jumped back to Vitalemus. They were floating in orbit, though, not on the planet anymore, so hopefully no one would even notice their return. It was kind of embarrassing, to make such a dramatic exit, only to come back because they forgot their keys.

They tried to reach out to their friends, but no one was responding. After a few tries, they shifted gears, and made a call to the version of Vitalie on this planet, who informed them that the Vellani Ambassador had already left, but she didn’t know where they were going. Cool. So now they were stuck in the Goldilocks Corridor with nothing to do, and no way to go back home until their slingdrive came back online.

They just hung in orbit for a few minutes, having no better plans as of yet. They certainly weren’t going to try to land back on the planet.

“Wanna make out?” Angela joked.

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The Advancement of Mateo Matic: August 9, 2522

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Mateo and Angela stood before three of the launch pads. Two claimant shuttles had already arrived, and the last one was landing now. No one had exited yet, per the Vitalemusian instructions. A few minutes after all shuttles were down, the hatches opened at about the same time. Korali, Bronach, and Old!Oaksent began to walk down their respective ramps. They were each accompanied by six others. Also per instructions, they were allowed to bring one lieutenant, one assistant, and four personal bodyguards. They were also allowed to leave one or two pilots in their vehicles, to be protected by no more than two security officers. They took full advantage of their limitations, which suggested that they would have rather had even more people backing them up. That told them something about how this was probably gonna go.

As the claimants approached, medical professionals first handed them their breathing apparatuses, which only Korali refused. “Team Matic,” Bronach said to them. “You’re looking...partial.”

Korali looked around. “Where are the other parties?” Her voice sounded normal, and it didn’t seem like she was having an issue pulling in oxygen. She must also have an enhanced substrate of some kind. Interesting that the two Oaksents apparently did not, despite being nigh impossible to kill.

“The Anatol Klugman and the Revolumusians are landing in a different dome, next to the Vellani Ambassador,” Angela replied. “We are here to escort you to a neutral third dome, where discussions will begin.”

“We would like to rest first,” Old!Oaksent all but demanded. Tok’ra was not with him. He was supposed to be, but they received word earlier today that he had business to take care of elsewhere. Mirage expressed that everything was okay, and that she would join him as soon as she dropped off her crew.

“That’s not happening,” Mateo informed them. “Your journey on your ship was not taxing. You would have plenty of time to sleep. If you want Team Matic here...we’re here. And we’re only here today. You know that.”

Korali scoffs. “He’s weak, and he’s losing. He knows we can’t harm him here. He doesn’t want a few hours to rest. He wants a year.”

“He’s not getting it,” Mateo reiterated. “Follow me.” He began to walk away while Anglea shooed them forward, and took up the rear. Vitalemusian guards surrounded them on either side. They were not taking any chances in this very delicate situation. He led them to the land vehicle that they were going to take to get to the diplomacy dome. It was gigantic, and should be quite comfortable for them all.

When the claimants realized this, they pretty much all stopped at the same time. “I’m not getting in that thing,” Old!Oaksent insisted.

Mateo was confused. “We can’t walk,” Mateo tried to explain. “It’s, like, 50 kilometers.”

“Don’t they have trains here?” Bronach asked. “I thought that was the go-to way to get around a paraterraformed planet.” He winked, reminding them that he was well aware of Castlebourne, and its location.

Angela looked up at the shimmering dome above them. “This world isn’t paraterraformed. It’s naturally habitable enough. The plasma domes are here for defensive purposes only. You can’t build permanent structures on the surface as there is too much seismic activity. Land vehicles are the only way. They live in them.”

“How do you not already know this?” Mateo questioned. “Didn’t you found all these planets?” Bronach probably knew all this entirely, and was just trying to get a rise out of them.

“I didn’t give this one very much thought,” Bronach replied. “I’m only one man.”

“Two, actually,” Old!Oaksent corrected.

“Shut it, grandpa.”

“You’re both old,” Korali argued.

“Get in the car!” Mateo urged.

They relented, and let the guards help them climb in. They found their couches, and settled in. Yes, they were couches, instead of seats. This particular vehicle was designed to transport VIPs. They weren’t really VIPs now, though. It sometimes felt like the driver was running them over boulders on purpose, instead of choosing the smoother path.

About two hours later, they were at their destination, having had to drive slowly because of the instability of the ground, as Angela had explained. This was actually a little faster than the locals would normally go, but they were tracking the progress of the other parties, and wanted to arrive at the same time. The claimants tried to engage her and Mateo in conversation, but the latter two realized that there was no reason why they all had to occupy the same space. It was more than big enough for each party to have their own compartment, so he made the executive decision to separate everyone.

The other vehicle pulled up next to theirs, and everyone started getting out. The Vitalemusian guards tensed up into high alert, prepared to stop any violence. There was very little obvious hostility among the enemies, though. If Mateo had to guess, none of them wanted to appear to see the others as any significant threat. In order to maintain a façade of confidence and dominance, they had to make it look like their opponents meant very little to them. Interesting again, and it too said something about everyone’s strategy going into this. They were going for the same one, which how would that turn out? The non-claimants had one clear advantage, however, in that the Revolumusians only came as a primary diplomat and a lieutenant. They didn’t feel the need to bring their own security guards at all, which really showed how self-assertive they were, and how safe they felt. One point to the allies already, and talks hadn’t even begun.

Team Matic reunited with each other, along with Vitalie and Kivi.  The 31 of them walked together to a third vehicle, still surrounded by about as many guards. The place was even bigger than the transporters, and resembled a gigantic clam. It did have wheels, but there were no tracks in the dirt, giving them the impression that it wasn’t designed to move regularly, but only when necessary. This might have been a particularly geologically stable region of the planet.

The diplomacy room looked like it was specifically tailored for this occasion, and it genuinely might have been. This meeting was on the books for an entire year, so they knew how many people were going to show up. It was a round table, much like the one in the VA, but this could specifically hold fourteen members. Well, it could technically hold more, but it was clearly divided up with concave sections around the edge, each one large enough to accommodate the primary and lieutenant. The rest of each party sat at a half circle table behind them, almost kind of like a VIP area in a nightclub. The entourage, who weren’t expected to speak.

While Mateo and Romana hung back in their little pod, Leona and Angela sat in their designated spot at the big table. They waited there silently until realizing that everyone was staring at them. Leona spoke, not with awkwardness or confusion, but calm, grade school teacheresque inquisitiveness. “Are you expecting us to run the show?”

“That’s why you’re here,” Bronach responded.

It hadn’t been entirely clear what her role here was supposed to be, but she was prepared for this. She glanced at the other members, whose facial expressions implied that they agreed with Bronach’s assertion. “Okay.” She looked over at Vitalie. “I need them to have compatible personal devices; tablets or handhelds, or something.”

Vitalie looked up at the nearest guard, who unlocked a cabinet on the wall with his biometrics. He distributed seven phablets accordingly.

Leona went on, “please take a few moments to write down your goals here. Only one each. Tell us all what you want. You can say, we demand a bouquet of flowers or I wanna destroy the entire universe. It’s up to you what you choose—however insane or unreasonable it may be—but it must be singular, and genuine. Go ahead.” She simply typed PEACE on her own device.

Once they were all complete, Vitalie used her master device to project holograms in front of each party to display their response. Bronach wrote total control over the entire Goldilocks Corridor, and the safe return of all Exin defectors and hostages. Okay. Korali and Old!Oaksent both basically said that they wanted control over their half of the Corridor, suggesting that they had already been working on a deal to divide territories in some fashion. It also clearly told everyone that Bronach should end up with nothing. The resistance fighters from Revolumus wanted the dissolution of the Exin Empire, and for a fair republic to be erected in its place. All three claimants would be barred from so much as thinking about taking any part in the new government. The Verdemusian warriors didn’t care what the people in this sector of the galaxy did, as long as they left everyone else alone. They were evidently fine with an oppressive government if the Exins—or anything which might take its place—remained isolationistic. They were particularly concerned with the secure and successful dispersal of the modular ships in the Stargate project. Team Kadiar asked for safe passage within the Corridor to ferry any refugee who would like to leave for Castlebourne. She quickly added not hostages in response to Bronach’s message. Vitalie abstained from a response.

“All right,” Leona said. “Now we know where we’re starting from, which means we know how far apart we are. Our goal here should be the move everyone as close to the center as possible. You all want power that you can’t have at the exclusion of each other. My job is to see what we can do to make everyone both unhappy, and happy. I’m actually already seeing a potential solution, and your goals are probably not as distant as you think. I’ll hold off on judgment for now, though. First, we all need to spend some time making clarifications and elaborations.” She literally rolled up her sleeves. “Let’s get to it.”

They talked all day, barely taking any breaks. It wasn’t as hard as they assumed for people to start recognizing Leona’s idea, even without her ever saying it out loud. She was right that they could reach an agreement without making too many sacrifices. The main thing that some of them would lose was absolute supremacy. Even Korali and Old!Oaksent’s plan to divide territories assumed that each planet in that territory would want to follow their new, singular leader. The easiest decision they made was to appease the Verdemusians to halt all aggression from the Anatol Klugman warship. Verdemus was sufficiently far outside of the Goldilocks Corridor, and Extremus was not even a blip on their radar anymore as it had long since reached its destination, or at least attempted to. As far as Project Stargate went, the Corridor was obviously wholly off-limits, but so was a sizable bubble beyond that, which should insulate them from interference from worlds that Stargate did manage to settle. It was hard for the Exins to agree to allow the module that would be responsible for colonization here, but that was kind of a non-starter. The Anglos needed to follow their pattern as planned. Even if that meant staying dormant forever, they couldn’t just send that module somewhere else. The algorithm didn’t work like that. That’s what they claimed anyway.

Next came the hard part, which was the question of who would control all of these stars. The claimants all had rational reason to believe that it should be them, but if they didn’t find a peaceful way to govern, the Revolumusians weren’t going to let them relax. The rebels were friends with the crew of the Vellani Ambassador, which was still the most powerful ship in the universe, even compared with the Jameela Jamil. If Team Kadiar ever decided to stop transporting refugees, and start using their vessel as a weapon instead, no one would be able to stop them. As small as it was, its speed was unmatched, and nobody wanted to antagonize them, especially not after Angela strongly suggested that Ramses was developing an entire armada of slingdrive-equipped battleships. That wasn’t actually true, but it was believable enough, and unequivocally within his capabilities.

They could not complete all of the negotiations in only one day, but they did have a framework for one. The three claimants could maintain control over the sector as a Triumvirate, but planetary and local governance would be completely democratic, as overseen by a team of Revolumusians. It wasn’t apparent how exactly this would all work, but they would spend Team Matic’s interim year hashing out the details. They still hadn’t figured out how to handle the refugee issue, but Kivi pointed out that there would likely be fewer applications for emigration if the citizens were treated well. They would be happy, and not interested in leaving, as wherever they were now were their homes. It was hard for the claimants to believe this, and it was true that there was no guarantee, but they seemed to be opening their minds. This might actually work out.

Team Matic disappeared at midnight, confident that all would be resolved by the time they returned. Of course, though, their faith was unfounded. When did anything ever work out that well for them? They finally found out why Tok’ra was not present as the equivalent of Old!Oaksent’s lieutenant. He decided that this meeting did not have the right to speak for the entire Goldilocks Corridor. He had been back on New Welrios, rousing a new rebellion. They too wanted a seat at the table, and nobody was having it. Surprisingly, not even the Revolumusians thought that they deserved a voice. After all this work, war was closer than ever.

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The Advancement of Mateo Matic: August 8, 2521

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Leona was not happy when she found out that Miracle was going to stay in Romana’s original body. She argued that this naturally placed her on the team’s pattern, and gave her other temporal abilities that she was not really supposed to have. The problem was that it wasn’t really their choice. Body swap laws were complicated, but not too complicated. Basically, the only way they could force Miracle out of Romana’s body would be if Romana wanted it back. But even if Romana expressed such interest, she couldn’t then turn around and upgrade to her new substrate right away, just as a means to keep Miracle from the original. It would have to be a sincere wish. Since Miracle did not ask to be cast into the wrong body, her rights to that body were assumed unless someone else were to have a stronger claim to it, and a legitimate one at that. Since this was now simply where Miracle’s mind lived, it fell under my body, my choice laws, which predated even the most nascent consciousness transference technologies by decades.

After Ramses completed Romana’s upgrade, she immediately took herself off the pattern, so she could spend the next year helping Miracle control her own relationship to that pattern, and stay in real time semi-permanently. She could always decide to start time-skipping like the rest of them, but what would be the purpose of that? They didn’t know her; they weren’t friends. She didn’t seem to want to be part of the team, and they kind of had a full roster at this point. Ramses programmed his AI to look for ways to clear Miracle of her temporal manipulation properties altogether, but again, she would have to consent to any procedure that might make such changes.

During the interim year, an old frenemy reached out. Korali was aware of the team’s schedule, but timekeeping was different in the Goldilocks Corridor. It was hard to keep track of precisely when the team was available, and when they weren’t. So they spoke with Team Kadiar at first. “She wants a meeting?” Leona questioned.

“She and the other claimants, which is what they are calling each other, all want a meeting with us.”

“They haven’t killed each other yet?” Marie asked.

“They can’t really die,” Romana reasoned. “There have been a ton of loss on all sides, which the crew of the Vellani Ambassador have been trying to put a stop to, but...they don’t have any support.”

“They don’t have support from who?”

Dubravka stepped forward. “Let’s break this down. You got three claimants, which are the two versions of the Oaksent, and Korali. On the other side, you have the internal resistance, headed by the inhabitants of the penal colony, Ex-666, which they now call Revolumus. I know, not very clever, but they’re trying to tie themselves to the Extremus mission. That brings me to the fifth opposing faction, which is composed of allies from Verdemus, headed by the Anatol Klugman warship. The sixth and final faction are the refugees, and us on the Ambassador who try to rescue them. Revolumus and Verdemus don’t really support our efforts. They don’t exactly want war, but they don’t think there’s any choice.”

“That sounds like a lot,” Mateo admitted, “but what does it have to do with us? The whole reason I had you transport the old Bronach there was so he could deal with it, and we could wipe our hands clean. The situation is far too complicated for a small group of people who only exist one day out of the year to make any meaningful impact.”

“You are the only people they all like,” Kivi explained.

“Why would they like us?” Mateo questioned. “I mean, Korali, I guess. But we’ve grown apart. And the other guys? Sure, I saved one Oaksent from death, but he doesn’t seem like the grateful type. The other version of him definitely isn’t. He keeps trying to kill us, and we keep almost killing him.”

“He respects you,” Dubra clarified. “You never stop fighting to fix things, which speaks to him. Apparently, that’s how this whole thing started. That’s why he founded the Exin Empire in the first place, to fight for his rights.”

“We don’t fight for our rights,” Olimpia contended. “We fight for others. He doesn’t see the difference?”

“I don’t think he understands the concept of helping people,” Kivi replied.

“Look, if you don’t do this,” Dubra went on, “we’ll go back and let ‘em know to take care of their own shit. We’re just the messengers. Hrockas is already aware that the location of Castlebourne is out there, and is working on his own arrangements. Our refugees will be safe, and we will keep gathering more as long as there are more to gather. But. I would love it if the violence stopped. It would make my job easier.”

“Debatable,” Mirage interjected. She was noncorporeal, but visible to them via holographic projection. She was pretending to be sitting on the counter, one of her legs propped up on the backrest of an empty chair.

“What’s that?” Leona asked.

“Ignore her,” Dubra requested.

“Go on with what you were saying,” Leona encouraged Mirage.

“There’s no such thing as a peacetime refugee. They ask us to save them because there’s something to save them from. If you negotiate a ceasefire—which, let’s face it, is as close as you’re gonna get to peace—people won’t feel any impulse to escape anymore.”

“And that’s a bad thing?” Dubra spat.

“Yes,” Mirage said, raising her voice a little, and hopping off the counter. “The Exin Empire is corrupt. The body can’t be saved. You can’t even save the limbs. The best you can do is save the individual cells, and bring them here.”

“That metaphor doesn’t make any sense,” Dubra argued. “Shut up.”

“What does Alt!Ramses say about this?” Mateo asked. “Is he still in control of what Old!Bronach does?”

“He goes by Tok’ra now,” Kivi divulges.

“Like as a first name? It’s a person’s name?” Mateo asked.

“It’s his only name. It’s a mononym.”

“He does love that franchise,” Leona admitted. “He said that he appreciated how much Egyptian culture and history played into it.”

“Where is the other Ramses?” Marie asked, looking around.

“He’s working on what he calls the Miracle Cure,” Leona answered cryptically. It wasn’t really their place to tell the crew of the VA about the Miracle Brighton issue.

There was a pause in the conversation.

“So, what do you say? Will you come back with us?” Dubra offered. Mirage was technically the captain of the ship, but Dubravka had full decision-making power over the missions, and she was apparently really adamant about that.

“Does it have to be today?” Leona asked her.

“If you go today, you’ll be waiting until tomorrow,” Mirage jumped back in. “They’ll all wanna make you sweat.”

Leona looked back to Dubra, who closed her eyes, nodded slightly, and shrugged even slightlier. “That tactic is not really gonna work on us. My problem is that we don’t have enough information. We’ve received piecemeal updates from you, but if we go back there, we need a more comprehensive report.”

“I can write one up for you in minutes,” Mirage volunteered.

“No, you won’t, Dubra insisted. “You’ll add too much bias. We already have reports,” she said to Leona. “The resistance fighters have their own form of central archives, and the AK tracks everything it does, and everything it sees. I can have an unbiased AI compile the information into something more digestible.”

“I can do that.” Ramses was standing in the doorway. “I’ve been listening this whole time. I trust Thistle. Feed him all your information, and he’ll take it from there.”

“So are you all coming today, or waiting?” Dubra asked again.

“We’ll catch up with you,” Ramses told her.

“That’s a complication,” Dubra began. “You’re not allowed to come. Well, you are allowed to be nearby, but they won’t talk to anyone on Team Matic if you’re involved. They see it as an unfair advantage, since an alternate version of you is on Old!Bronach’s side.”

“I don’t talk to that guy,” Ramses explained. “Tok’ra, you say?”

“It doesn’t matter what the truth is,” Mirage said. “It’s what they think.”

“How’s your work coming along?” Leona asked Ramses.

“It can wait,” Ramses claimed.

“Why don’t you stay and keep working on it?” Leona suggested. It was probably the smart move anyway, to keep someone on the outside, protected. They couldn’t do it all the time, since they were supposed to be a team, but they would still have him there, just in a different form. They wondered what he was like now. Tok’ra had been without them for years now, but he surely wouldn’t have changed too terribly much.

“I’ll stay here too,” Olimpia proposed. “I don’t care to be around any version of the Oaksent. I tried to kill him once, so...”

“So did Ram,” Mateo reminded them. “This is the right call. ‘Kay, buddy?”

“Yeah, that makes sense.” Ramses didn’t like being sidelined, but he understood.

Marie hung back too. It was prudent to not leave one or two people stranded somewhere without a full tandem sling drive array. The rest of them accepted the Vellani Ambassador’s invitation to transport them to the Corridor, since it left their tandem slingdrives at full capacity. The VA had to go back there anyway.

They were now orbiting an Earth-like planet. From this viewpoint, there appeared to be more land and less water on the surface, but that was otherwise unremarkable. What they focused mostly on was the atmosphere, which shone brighter. An aurora wrapped itself all around the world, dancing with brilliant shades of turquoise and magenta.

“Don’t try to teleport down there,” Dubra warned. “This world is a fortress, which is why it’s a perfect neutral planet. Argon is extremely rich in the crust, and makes up about 60% of the atmosphere. It’s safe to breathe, especially you with your advanced substrates. The locals use breathing apparatuses to pull in oxygen, and raise the pitch of their voice to normal standards, but they don’t require them, so you will meet people who move slowly, and talk deeply.

“I don’t understand,” Mateo said.

“Argon is what we use in plasma shields,” Leona said. “They got domes down there?”

“They got domes,” Dubra confirmed. “Transparent ones, though, unlike Castlebourne. They have a real sky, so they never felt the need to fake it with holograms.”

“As it turns out, they’ve been in revolt and independent for a long time,” Kivi went on. “They never fought back, or tried to recruit. They just said, leave us alone, and we’ll leave you alone. Let us develop and advance however we see fit, and we’ll continue to ship refined plasma to you, but at our discretion. Since the war began, they stopped shipping anything at all, but they did agree to not provide plasma to their enemies either, so there’s that.”

Leona chuckles quietly. “Argon is not a rare element. Sure, I bet it was convenient to have a single, highly concentrated source of the stuff, but they never needed this particular planet to satisfy their needs. I bet they harvest it from lots of other worlds, and that they weren’t too butthurt to let this one go.”

“How do we get down there?” Mateo asked.

“We’ll take The Puff!” Kivi replied excitedly. She ran off.

Dubra ran after her. “You’re not flying it!”

“Oh, yes, I am!” Kivi insisted.

The team followed them to the shuttle bay. They obviously knew this was here the whole time, but as teleporters, never had any use for it. The Puff looked mostly like a smaller version of the Vellani Ambassador. It was purple, sleek, and pretty. “Wait, where’s The Tammy?” Leona asked when she noticed the empty second docking bay.

“It’s...being borrowed,” Dubra replied, uncomfortably like it was a lie. Had it been stolen, or something?

Leona decided not to press for more answers. They climbed into the shuttle, and flew off down to the surface while Mirage stayed alone in orbit. Where was Tertius? They also decided to ask probing questions about that either. After receiving permission, they flew through the entry barrier of the visitor dome, and landed on the pad. The welcome party consisted of only one person. It was presumably this planet’s variation of Vitalie Crawville.

“She’s why they revolted,” Dubra explained without prompting. “They found her stasis pod, managed to break her out, and kind of elected her as their leader. Some may even worship her. I forgot to tell you,” she added in a more hushed voice, “they call this planet Vitalemus.”

“Will she see us as friends?” Angela asked. “I’m getting the impression that this secession happened quite a long time ago.”

“Oh, yes, it was centuries ago,” Dubra responded. “She is a little bit different than the other World Caretakers. A little bit more jaded, maybe? Serious. Hard to read. You should be fine, though.”

They stepped out of the shuttle, and approached Vitalie. She did look quite serious. Her face wasn’t sporting a frown, but it was still a little jarring when it suddenly turned into a smile. She reached out and took Leona in an embrace. “Oh, how I’ve missed you, old friend. Come quick, come quick.” She turned, and started walking away. “Let’s fuck some shit up.”

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Microstory 2429: Capital

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This is the Capital City of Castlebourne. It doesn’t have any other name besides that, which is unusual, since they seem to have an appreciation for word puns in their other names. I suppose they just wanted to be real serious here, which is probably a good thing. Where I’m from in the Goldilocks Corridor, our planet didn’t have a capital. It was just a village where we made soap. That’s really it. Several years back, we were visited by the resistance to the Exin Empire. They wanted to know if any of us were willing to join the movement, and fight alongside them. We didn’t understand why we would even consider that, because for the most part, the empire left us alone. They asked us for soap, we gave them the soap, and they left. They never abused us, or attacked us, or anything. The resistance started educating us, though. They taught us about the other worlds, which were being forced to do other things to serve the Emperor. They showed us images of these other places, involving big machines that could produce their own wares in a fraction of the time. We were stunned. Some of us didn’t believe it. Some of us still don’t, and presumably still live on our home planet. We were making soap by hand. It was hard work, and the only reason we didn’t complain before was because we literally didn’t know that there was any better way. We were intentionally kept in the dark. Well, anyway, no, none of us joined the resistance. We were soap makers, we didn’t know how to fight! But then a few years later, another new ship showed up, and promised to take us somewhere where we wouldn’t have to make soap anymore. We asked them what work we would be doing, and they kind of laughed. No work, they said; we wouldn’t have to work at all. This was another concept that we didn’t have any frame of reference for. You work, it’s what you do. Not even the war-fighting people said anything about a life where we wouldn’t have to work. After some further education, most of us agreed to go with these other people. We flew away, and landed on Castlebourne. They didn’t lie to us, we don’t have to work. It’s taken some adjusting, but we’ve gotten used to just being alive and happy. I still wanna work, though. It still feels like the right thing to do. So I came to Capital to see how I could contribute to the governing body of our new society. I don’t have much experience, but they were all so welcoming to me. I’ve not been assigned anything yet, but they’re working on finding a place. I’m sure it’s difficult since I don’t have any skills. As for the dome itself, it’s gorgeous. Our village was dull and lifeless. I didn’t realize how much of a struggle it was for us just to survive. In contrast, this place has trees and other plant life. Tall buildings with hundreds of people work to make the world a better place for us refugees. For whatever reason, we were allowed to know how to read, but not everyone here had that luxury, yet the government is helping, and they’re doing it in style. I can’t wait to get my new job, and get to come to this beautiful dome every single day for the rest of my life.

The Advancement of Mateo Matic: July 12, 2494

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There was no need to worry about the new Minister of Foreign Affairs for Castlebourne. They didn’t know who she was prior to today, but she was already familiar with time travelers, a few in particular. Rochelle Sumner grew up with Dalton Hawk as he was living through multiple lifetimes. Curious about people like him, she started to be on the lookout for others, eventually running into Dave Seidel and Jesimula Utkin. She was actually with them in the past, trying to figure out how to transport a citrus fruit from the future at the behest of the villainous Buddy. Rochelle couldn’t or wouldn’t divulge whether they succeeded in this mission, but she had long since moved on. In more recent decades, she was trained as an Interstellar Charterwright, so it was her job to handle these situations specifically. The fact that she knew about time travel could have entirely been a coincidence, because it didn’t sound like she had concerned herself with such matters for the last few centuries.

While they were gone, Ramses’ machines finished all of the calculations and simulations for the new mini-slingdrives, but it was complicated. The components were successfully miniaturized, and shunted into specialized pocket dimensions. The problem was that they could not accrue enough quintessence on their own for an individual to make a jump. At least three people had to come together to combine their power. They should all be able to jump together at that point, which meant that the resulting power was more than the sum of its parts, but it was a limitation that the math simply could not overcome.

“I don’t like that word,” Angela decided.

“What would you have me call it?” Ramses asked.

She pursed her lips to the side, and looked up towards the ceiling with only her eyes. “A constraint?”

He laughed a little. “Okay. That’s our constraint. Three or more of us have to go together, which will allow us to theoretically split into two groups, but no more.”

“Can we take other people with us?” Mateo asked him. “Passengers?”

Ramses took an uncomfortably long time to respond. “The AI couldn’t figure that out. I can run as many simulations as you want, but it needs targeted data. It needs to know who these passengers are, and what’s up with their quantum and qualium realms. I can’t just iterate the variables. We would have to calculate each particular passenger, like they used to do with airplanes, when they needed to know everyone’s weight for safety.”

“Have you devised a way to gather this data, if we were to find ourselves in a situation where people are in need of being evacuated?” Leona asked.

“Yes,” he confirmed. “It’s a little slow, but I can improve the efficiency.”

“That’s good enough for me for now,” Leona determined.

There was a lull in the conversation. No one knew if they were going to leave this very moment, or after saying their goodbyes to everyone here, or even this year. Leona was still worried about her right to be the leader, so she couldn’t just order it. Fortunately, Romana appeared out of nowhere to break the ice. She showed up using the dark particles that she was now stricken with thanks to Buddy’s protracted abduction and imprisonment of her. “Good, you’re not gone yet. I wanna go with you.”

“With us?” Mateo asked. “We don’t even know where we’re going.”

“Yeah, that’s the point,” Romana agreed. “It’s time for me to move on from Team Kadiar. They can handle it without me.”

“It wasn’t about needing you,” Mateo argued. “You should be with your sisters. I can’t...for any extended period of time, but you have a choice.”

“Plus, you put the R in Kadiar,” Olimpia noted.

“We’re not the only three on the team,” Romana said. “It was never only about us, or the name.”

“We’re Team Matic, but more than half of us aren’t Matics,” Marie reminded everyone.

“Y’all wanna switch to Team Walton?” Mateo proposed.

“That’s okay,” Angela replied sincerely.

“I’ve spoken with my sisters,” Romana went on, getting back to the matter at hand. “They give me their blessings. We’re doing good work out there, it’s not like I hate it. It’s just that the operation has grown so much since we started. The Ex-Exins—we need to come up with a better name for them too—have become so much more involved. Kivi and Dubra are considering leaving as well, and just letting the refugees take care of themselves. Mirage would stay, as would Tertius, since their powers are paramount, but I would say that anyone else is interchangeable.”

“I would love to have you here,” Mateo assured her. “I’m not going to harp on how dangerous it will be, because you already know that, and it’s not like you’ve been living in a padded cell for the last several years. I just want to make sure you don’t walk away with any regrets.”

“It hasn’t been long for you,” Romana said, “but I’ve been seriously considering my options for a year, and questioning it for years prior to that. I’m not doing this on a whim.”

“Yeah, it’s hard for us to remember that,” Leona admitted. “Everything happens so fast from our perspective.” Another break in the conversation, though a short one. “Well, okay. You’ll need a suit. Ram, you have a regular IMS that’s fitted with all the slingdrive upgrades?”

“Actually,” Romana interrupted Ramses before he had a chance to speak. “Could I maybe get one of those...nanite suits? What do you call them...?”

“The EmergentSuit,” Ramses answered. His eyes darted over to Romana’s father. “I suppose you’re not a child anymore, and you can make that decision.”

Romana waited for a moment before tensing up with confidence “I have. This is also not on a whim. I don’t want the upgraded substrate like you all have, just the nanobot implants. I don’t know if I should have these dark particles in my body, but they’re part of me now, and I can’t risk losing them.” She looked over at Mateo now. “I hope you don’t disapprove.”

Mateo took a respectful moment to ponder his position, then decided to simply say, “your body, your choice.”

“Thank you,” she said softly.

Romana underwent the procedure in private with Leona, instead of with an audience like most everyone else. She had a harder time adjusting to the way her brain interfaced with the implants, and their nanites. She had less experience with that sort of thing. She spent a lot of the day practicing in the lab, during which Ramses realized that there was a flaw in his programming. They were optimized to the team’s physiology and neurology. They were walking around with posthuman bodies, and teleportation and illusion powers. Romana was in no risk of exploding, or something, but she wasn’t ever going to be good at using her new suit in its current state. Her software needed to be adapted to account for the differences between her and her friends. He finished it by the time the day was over, but there wasn’t enough time for them to leave Castlebourne for their little exploratory slingdrive jump. Still, Romana wanted to integrate herself into the team, so she chose to turn her pattern back on, and skip over the next year.

When they returned, it was July 13, 2495. Castlebourne was celebrating a major milestone in their development. For the first time ever, the percentage of domes in the Gamma testing phase exceeded the percentage that were still totally non-operational. While the domes currently still in Alpha and Beta testing would gradually go down as more and more people were given the opportunity to explore these worlds, the top number would probably remain largely unchanged moving forward. Using various methods, including crowdsourcing, ordered list iteration, AI creativity, and just plain sitting down and thinking about it, Hrockas had managed to come up with over 67,000 ideas for the various recreational and relaxation destinations. The other 16,000 or so just wouldn’t be original enough to warrant construction, and would be left there as barren deserts. There were many other deserts, but these ones were unplanned, bare, and unused.

It took some time, but Hrockas eventually accepted the fact that there would be empty areas. Four out of five domes did have something to brag about, and that was a pretty big deal. The only reason he chose to construct as many as he did was because that was close to how many could fit on the surface of the planet. It wasn’t like he came up with all of the ideas first. He was happy, and so were the residents. The population from the Goldilocks Corridor was still growing at a steady rate. The ones already here held a vote, and agreed to call themselves Castlebourners. They were here to start new lives, and build a new civilization. Language mattered, and tying themselves to where they escaped from by calling themselves Ex-Exins—or by the designations of their planets of origin—wasn’t helping them move forward.

“Why are you telling them about this?” Hrockas questioned Aeolia when he finally came into the room.

“I’m trying to get them up to speed,” she defended. She was taking charge of the briefing while Hrockas was busy with other matters.

“I don’t care about that. They need to see that desert, and explain what the hell is happening there.”

“What’s happening in what desert?” Leona asked.

Hrockas took wide strides over to the holo-wall on the other side of the conference table. He switched it on. It was showing a nude beach located in the South Ocean. “Who the hell was watching this?” he questioned, frustrated as he was trying to find the right feed on his handheld device. “Here.” He changed it to the view from a flying drone, looking down at one of those deserts that they were talking about. It wasn’t natural, though, as was the majority of Castlebourne outside of the domes. It was sandy and duney. And there was something else.

Leona leaned forward and peered at the screen. “Are those...?”

“Dark particles?” Romana finished the question with a gulp. There were tons of them, flying over the surface, morphing and turning like starlings.

“That’s what they look like to me,” Hrockas responded. “Care to explain?”

“Which dome is that?” Romana asked.

“It’s Dome 216. A meteorite crashed through it years ago, and I never bothered repairing it. I just marked it for disuse, and moved on to 217.”

With fear in her eyes, Romana looked over at her father. “It’s mine. That’s the one I used to release the excess energy I have pent up when I’m not skipping time, or teleporting, or whatever.”

“You always go into the same dome?” Mateo asked her.

“It was in disuse,” Romana explained.

“How is there an atmosphere?” Olimpia asked.

“Oh yeah, if there’s a breach...” Romana posed to Hrockas.

“You tell me. There’s not supposed to be an atmosphere, I can’t believe I didn’t notice. Maybe it has something to do with what you do in there? Some kind of weird form of electrolysis?”

“I purge the energy,” Romana repeated. “It doesn’t really even look like I’m releasing dark particles. It’s more of a transparent wave that distorts space around me. It’s a very private experience, and I don’t talk about it. It shouldn’t be making oxygen, though. I have no idea what’s going on.”

“Ramses, you need to go there and see what data you can get,” Leona ordered.

“No,” Romana and Hrockas argued at the same time. “It’s too dangerous,” Hrockas continued. “I’ve sealed it off; placed it in its own quarantine.”

“I’ll send a probe,” Ramses negotiated.

“There’s already one in there,” Hrockas said, pointing to the feed.

Ramses chuckled. “I’ll send a better one than that paper airplane you got roaming around the skies.”

“Please do,” Hrockas said.

They started to get up to return to their respective duties when Marie noticed something. “That paper airplane just spotted a person out there.”

“Computer, zoom in,” Leona commanded.

The camera zoomed in towards the ground. It wasn’t a person, more of a silhouette...made of dark particles. If it had any approximation of eyes, though, it was staring up at them.

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