Microstory 2509: Former Girlfriend

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Landis wasn’t always the great and noble guy you’ve heard of. I’m not surprised that he became what he is today, but I do wish that it was happening while we were dating. He wasn’t a bad guy, but he really struggled with motivation. He didn’t want to work very hard at anything. He didn’t want things handed to him, but he didn’t want to have to think too hard either, and figure the solutions out for himself. He wanted to know how to do something, and understand why he should be doing it. He didn’t have a great job, bu he was content with it, because he gave an unremarkable interview, yet they gave it to him. He didn’t care about being promoted, or even making more money. His budget was always based on the bare minimum, and he didn’t care about anything else. He didn’t want to improve, or have a better life. This sounds really selfish of me, but it might have been nice had he treated me to dinner every once in a while. I felt like I was the only one making an effort in the relationship. I had to leave him, because it was so one-sided, and when I finally did, he didn’t seem to care. This goes to show how dispassionate he was. I wanted him to want something, even if it wasn’t me. I couldn’t tell you how he got his powers, because I wasn’t around for that, but I’m happy for him. I am not bitter, and I’ve not tried to get back together. He’s doing his thing, and I’m doing mine. I feel lucky that the path we walked took us to where we are. Even if I were miserable, at least he’s a superhero now, and that’s a beautiful thing. People ask if I regret not sticking by him but if I had, the Foundation might not exist. It’s all so mysterious, so we don’t know how he ended up with the abilities, but he has told us that we received them. He wasn’t born with them, so he would not have randomly developed them in an alternate reality. He was reportedly simply at the right place at the right time. If we had still been living together, he would have been in a completely different place at that particular time. We would have gone on with our lives none the wiser, still not happy, and none of you would be cured. I guess I should say...you’re welcome.

Microstory 2508: Lie Taster

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I can taste your lies, and numb your reality. Now. What does that mean? Well, the first one is obvious, but you might be surprised to learn that lies taste sweet. They actually taste really good. You might think it should be the opposite, but what you have to understand is that my ability was something that all humans possess, just to a lesser degree. We can all tell when someone’s lying, depending on how good they are at being deceptive, and how good we are at picking it up. Think about it, if someone tells a lie and it tastes bad, it’s going to be quite obvious to you, and you’re just going to reject it. Lies are meant to make you happy with something that isn’t correct, so they tasted good to me, so they would feel good. Of course, I wasn’t doing my job if I just accepted the taste, and didn’t do anything about it. It wasn’t hard either, to ignore that part, and just use it as a tool to get to the root of our subject’s issues. Only when they were honest with me could I be sure they were being honest with themselves, and only at that point could I help them not have to lie anymore. If you genuinely enjoy your job, for instance, you won’t have to lie when your boss asks if you’re happy doing it. My responsibility was to get the taste of these lies out of my head, which didn’t involve anything beyond just talking with them in a therapeutic setting. I’m the only one who almost never used my active Vulnerability gift. There just wasn’t much reason to. The best use cases were when someone was having a panic attack, and I happened to be in the room. By numbing them to their struggles, they could gain some much-needed perspective, and maybe it wouldn’t hurt so much when I brought them back to reality. It wasn’t always prudent to do this, though. I mean, they really had to be going through it at the time, and acting violent, or threatening to harm themselves or others. It was a last resort that thankfully did not come up most of the time. There is one time that I wish I had used it, and it was our last client. He could have done with a hell of a lot less emotion on that night, and we would not have ever been in danger from him. Or not. He might have used that against us as well, fueling his anger, and making him even more vindictive. There’s no way to know, but I think it all worked out, because the world has Landis now. I am enjoying being able to walk into a restaurant, and taste food, knowing that what I taste is real, and not coming from a lie coming out of someone else’s mouth.

Microstory 2504: Regret Seer

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I can see your regrets, and show you your potential. Before Landis Tipton received the gifts of The Ten Vulnerabilities, I was responsible for two of them. There were five of us in total, and we chose to use our abilities very differently. We were nomads, traveling all over the world—mostly the North American continent—helping people one at a time. We searched for those who were at their lowest, who needed the most help. I was on the frontlines of this mission. Regret is one of the strongest emotions that a person can have, and sight is one of the strongest senses. It was easier for me to pick our targets out of a crowd without having to wait for them to do something to draw attention to themselves. I could just see it. Once I found a candidate, the five of us would explore this person’s life further. We could strategize about what we could do to help this person live a better life. The way we saw it, our tasks were helping the whole world exponentially. Everyone we supported would go out, and pay it forward. With a brand new lease on life, they would find it in their hearts to help others in their own ways. Honestly, we didn’t think to focus on only one of the Vulnerabilities, like Landis has. We were drawn to one another, and it felt like we absolutely had to work together in order to fulfill our destinies. Had we only let the Health Smeller do her thing, what work would have been left for the rest of us? We just had a different perspective. And fittingly enough, I regret nothing. And you know that’s true, because if I did, I would be able to tell, and I’m comfortable enough with my own vulnerabilities that I would be honest about it. I can’t bring my own regrets to the surface, but I’m very good at recognizing them. We did our own thing our own way, and I still think we improved the world. We didn’t always hit it out of the park. There is a reason why we don’t have the gifts anymore, and why we had to transfer them to Landis. But I don’t like to talk about it, because that is something that I regret. Maybe I’m not as brave as I believe. I should be able to talk about what happened. Unfortunately, while I helped countless others see their potential, I could never see my own. But again, the gifts belong to Landis now, and while it saddens me a little that my Vulnerability senses aren’t being used, I’m proud of the work that he’s been doing. That’s why I chose him in the first place. I didn’t know exactly what he was going to do, but I knew that he was on his way to reaching greatness.

Microstory 2503: Sibling of the Savior

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My brother, the hero. Yeah, it’s petty, but I can’t help but be annoyed by this. Obviously I love my brother, and obviously he’s doing good work, and obviously I shouldn’t be jealous. It’s hard, ya know, to live in the guy’s shadow. I’m older than him, and I’ve always been good at what I do. It’s not that I’m immediately great at everything I try. Well, it is, but not how you think. I’m good at everything I try, because I only try things that I know I’m gonna be good at. That’s my real skill, knowing myself so well. I can picture it in my mind, and if I imagine how it’s going to turn out, and if it’s no good, I simply won’t go down that road. I didn’t love growing up being more successful than my brother. I wanted him to succeed. I just didn’t know what it would look like once he finally did. People—total strangers—stop me on the street now. They all ask the same questions, about how I must be so proud, and also whether I have any magical powers too. No. No, I don’t. It’s not hereditary. He received them as gifts from other people. I’m not downplaying how important he’s become, but come on, I had nothing to do with it. Whoever these people were, they didn’t come to me. Why not? Well, we don’t have the whole story, but they didn’t seek Landis out either. He happened to be in the right place at the right time. It easily could have been anyone else who lived or worked in that area. I’m complaining a lot, I get it, it’s just annoying because I feel like I’ve addressed this in interviews, yet instead of actually doing their own research—which would take all of five minutes—they ask me again and again. And the jokes, oh the jokes. I’ve heard them all, and everyone thinks they’re so clever, like they’re the first to come up with them. Give me a break. I had a chance to live at the hotel with Landis. He wants me to. Our parents have their own suite. I just don’t want to be involved in all that. I’m sure they could use someone with my technical skills, but I’m happy where I’m working. They need me there. In fact, we still don’t know what this fabled panacea is going to do to the global economy yet. People like me need to stay where they are to keep the lights on once we conquer death, and people stop spending their money. Do you have any idea how much we spend on health? It drives the whole world, because the death rate has been at a steady 100% throughout all of human history. If the day comes that that changes, no one at that hotel is gonna be able to save you, or will even want to try. You’re gonna need people like me out here. Who will be your hero then? No, I shouldn’t end this on such a negative note. The truth is, that we have a decent relationship. I was always in his corner, and he in mine. We loved playing together as children, back when there was no pressure on either of us. It’s only when we grew up that things really started to get hard. I started feeling the need to be the best of the best, and he started getting discouraged when one little thing didn’t work out. I don’t regret anything, though, because we’re both happy now.

Microstory 2502: Father of the Cure

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I’m going to be totally honest here, Landis and I have not always agreed. His mother always believed that he was gonna move on to do great things, but the kid was approaching his thirties, and he had nothing to show for it. Don’t get me wrong, I love him to death, and nothing he could have done would have been able to change my mind. I just remember wishing that he would have some kind of ambition. I wasn’t one of those fathers who had a plan for their kid, and they were going to follow it no matter what. I only had a few requirements. Number one, he had to learn a second language. Most of the world understands English, and I feel like the least we can do is meet them halfway. You can’t learn them all, but you can at least learn one. Well, he didn’t do it. He didn’t even try. He did the bare minimum in school, in his language classes, and everything else. He wasn’t an idiot, but he was a poor student, because he lacked motivation. I only got him into sports to teach him discipline, and perseverance. I didn’t care if he became obsessed with it, or even if he liked it. He could have switched to theatre or A/V Club, if that’s what struck his fancy. I chose baseball, because that’s what I was familiar with, but I made it clear that he had a choice. What he didn’t have a choice in was doing nothing. He couldn’t just coast through school, and work minimum wage for the rest of his life. I know, that might seem unrealistic. Someone is working minimum wage, that’s why it exists. I just wanted him to want more out of his life. Again, he didn’t have to do anything that I specifically chose for him, but he had to have at least some passion about it, even if that passion was for the money itself. He had to contribute positively to society, and if that meant sticking with that minimum wage job, well, I figured I could get over that. At least he was doing something. But he kept losing them, and having to find something new. Secretly, I think that he preferred it this way. He gets tired of things, you see. He doesn’t quit because he’s no good at it, but because he just doesn’t wanna do it anymore. It becomes tedious. I’m actually kind of surprised he came up with his foundation, because it’s the same thing; day-in, day-out. I can’t believe that he can take it, but I’m proud of him, and I’m happy for him. I never expected him to cure the entire world. I would have just been happy with him holding down a job for longer than six months. But he went for it. He really went for it. He exceeded all of my expectations, and I regret every doubt I ever had for him. That’s my kid, and I’m grateful for him.

Microstory 2155: Tiny Home Community

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You’ll recall that I was planning to put off my community service hours until I was finished with my jail time. This was the best decision at the time, because it meant that I wasn’t trying to pile everything on all at once. If I had tried to rush through it, I would have gotten burnt out, and probably had a nervous breakdown. Other than that, though, there’s no other reason that I can’t start working through my hours earlier if I want. Before I get into it, I have one last update about that business deal that I’ve been working on. They pulled out of it. Completely. They made it quite clear that there was no legal issue, and that the whole reason they’ve changed their minds is because of my post last night. They asked me to eat steak with them, because that’s traditionally what they do after a handshake. I felt pressured to go along with it, even though I’m vegetarian, but they don’t see it that way. I’m an adult, and I made a decision, and I could have declined. Except I did try to decline, and they kept pushing and pushing. Still, they don’t want to work with me anymore, because I made them look bad. I pointed out that I never mentioned them by name, but they volleyed that I eventually would have, when I started to promote them, and that’s a good point. I must say, I have mixed feelings about it. On the one hand, it’s probably for the best that we don’t associate with each other, whoever they were—I’ll never tell. On the other hand, I ate meat for no reason now, destroying my five year streak, and making me feel even worse about myself. If I could go back in time, I would have politely rejected their initial proposal, and then just moved on with my life. I’m gaining not only new readers, but also new subscribers. I have a good job in addition to this side hustle. I really don’t think anything else on top of that.

I still feel pretty crappy about the situation, so I decided I needed to do something about it. A long, long time ago, in a universe far, far away, I used to volunteer all the time. It came so naturally to me that I barely thought about it. That was one good thing about the scouts, because if not for them, or for church, I might not have done any, because, well...I wasn’t thinking about it. I didn’t have to go to the opportunities. They always came to me. Despite the fact that I’m now required by law to participate in community service, it’s not that easy. The court isn’t going to send me a list of places where I can volunteer, and they’re certainly not going to coordinate it for me. I have to reach out to the organizations myself, and have them approved by my parole officer, Leonard. That’s mostly a formality, because the only reason he would reject a particular proposal is if I’m being asked to do dumb, pointless, or unhelpful work. Good, non-scammy organizations who legitimately need help should be fair game. I forgot to say anything to Leonard beforehand, because I wasn’t initially planning on starting my service so soon, but I called him after, and the eight hours I earned will still count just fine. Homes for Humankind is presently building a tiny home community not too far from me on the Missouri side. It’s for people of low or no income, who need a place to live, but don’t need their homes to be lavish and expensive. I spent a half day cutting wood, and drilling screws. Most of the other dozen or so volunteers were highly experienced with this standardized model, so they went fast, and had a shorthand with each other. They were wary of me, but I have my own experience with this sort of thing, so I kept up. We still got the whole unfurnished product done in a day. I’ll help build another next week.

Microstory 2154: It Can’t Be Undone

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I’m not having a good day. The meeting with the people went fine. We struck a deal, and I’ll start to promote their products and services in future installments. These won’t be non sequiturs, though. They’ll provide me with samples, so I can mention them more casually and naturally during my regular updates. You won’t ever hear me just randomly doing ads only for them. I’ll still have normal things to say about how my life is going, but also what I’m using. I’ll also be incorporating their own banner advertising system, as opposed to the one that’s built into the blogging service. Everything still has to go through their legal department, and I’ve been advised to find a lawyer of my own, but once I finish signing the paperwork, we’ll start. It was after the meeting was over that things started to become not so great. As you know, I’m vegetarian, and I’ve been this way for years. It’s something that I wanted to do for a long time before I found the opportunity to make the leap. I never liked the idea of killing to survive, but fresh fruits and vegetables are expensive, and I am not a good cook. Once I started living in Havenverse with Cricket and Claire, though, that all stopped being a problem, so I was able to adopt my desired diet. That all changed this evening. My new business partners wanted to celebrate the deal with a meal, like you do. Unfortunately, they have a more specific idea of what that entails. To avoid being rude, I let them order a steak for me, and I ate it. It was the first meat I had eaten in years, and I did not feel good about it. I’m an all or nothing kind of guy. It can be my worst character flaw, but it has kept me completely away from drugs and alcohol, so I’ve never tried to change. I don’t want to.

I once believed that I wasn’t very susceptible to peer pressure, but now I think that that had more to do with the fact that I didn’t have peers. No one outside of my family ever cared much what I did or didn’t do with my life. So I reluctantly agreed to the steak, and I had to hold back tears as I was chewing. When it was over, and we officially said our goodbyes, I went back to my apartment, and threw up again. A part of it was because it was too much, and a part of it was stress and guilt, but another part of me believed that I could undo it by not letting my body process the meat all the way. Of course, it doesn’t work like that, and anyway, one point is to lower my carbon impact, and the damage has already been done. I’m just going to have to figure out a way through this. I’ve said this before, and it’s always been about my health and weight, but this time, it’s for the animals: my diet starts now. From tomorrow onwards, I will never eat meat again, whether anyone asks me to or not. They’ll have to force me if they want it to happen. I’m just gonna go to bed for now, and try to put it in the past. As I said, it can’t be undone.

Microstory 2096: Before I Came Out

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When I was pretty young, my dad told me that he once jumped off a cliff in Boy Scouts. I think he said it was a hundred feet or something, which may or may not have been an exaggeration. Because of the way my brain works, I interpreted this to mean that jumping off a cliff was some kind of a requirement, which immediately took me out of the running, because I’ve always been afraid of heights. That’s not a phobia, by the way, because it’s not irrational. You fall down, you could die. It doesn’t even have to be that high. You could fall from your own height, and still crack your head wide open. Some time later, I either learned that it wasn’t really a requirement, or I forgot all about it, because I did join Cub Scouts, and eventually moved up the ranks as appropriate. I graduated to Boy Scouts with a group of other boys, and we stuck together for a little while. Over the course of the next several years, almost invariably, when one of them would attain the highest rank of Eagle, they would stop coming to meetings and camping trips. I started noticing this throughout the whole troop. If they didn’t quit sometime before, they ended up seeing reaching Eagle the end of their journey. By the time I turned 18, I was one of only a few kids my age left. Everyone else was younger, placing me in a de facto leadership position in many cases. Despite the fact that I initially ranked up faster than most of my peers, I was the last to finally get Eagle. In fact, it was four weeks before I turned 18. I don’t think there was a rule that said that I was disqualified at that age, but I definitely wanted to finish by then either way.

Shortly thereafter, we went on a canoe trip, which we would do every year. It was set to be my last. I knew that I wasn’t going to be involved in the organization for much longer. Since all of my “friends” were gone by then, I shared a canoe with my dad. In the middle of the trip, we came across a cliff that looked like we could climb up to from the side. It was not a hundred feet up, but it wasn’t six feet neitha, I’ll tell ya that much. I was still afraid of heights—which, like I said, is rational—but older, stronger, and more confident in my abilities. So we got out, checked the depth of the water below the cliff, and then made the short trek to the top, where we jumped off together. I dunno, I think it’s rather poetic that the one thing that almost stopped me from experiencing those ten years of my life was one of the last things I did for my scouting career. I left the scouts, and I never looked back. I don’t regret the activities that I participated in, but I can’t look back on the whole experience fondly either. Those people suppressed my sexuality for many years beyond that. I just got so used to being someone that I wasn’t, and it took a lot for me to decide to live as my true self. I was in my 30s before I came out as omnisexual, and I will never forgive them for that. I could have been so much happier. How many others went through something similar? I’m still attracted to women, so at least I wasn’t lying about everything, but there are those who can’t express themselves at all, and that was never okay. I do not tolerate the excuse that it was a “different time”. A part of me wants/wanted them to change, but another part of me just wants to see them destroyed. I’m vengeful like that sometimes.

Microstory 2094: This New Life Chapter

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I’ve been missing my family. I’ve told you lies about them, like how they live in a different universe, but I’ve also told you some true things, including the fact that a lot of them are teachers, and that my parents liked to log the number of kids who came to their house for Halloween. Don’t worry, it’s not like there’s anything bad between us, but I flew the nest years ago, and I never went back. I was being rebellious, and wanted to exert my independence, and for the longest time, I felt like I couldn’t return, even just to enjoy a Sunday brunch with them, because I thought it would look like I was a failure. I still talk to them, but we’re not nearly as close as we used to be. I think I would like to change that. Things are in motion. I spoke with them on the phone earlier today, and asked if I could visit them. They insisted that they come see me here instead. They say that nothing has changed about where they live, or the way that they live, so they want to see where I am, and how I’m doing. I think that’s okay, even though things aren’t super great right now. They needed a day to get their affairs in order, but they’ll be flying in tomorrow, late morning. I’m going to rent a car to meet them at the airport. I was worried that my social worker wouldn’t like it, because I’m not really supposed to travel, but he actually encouraged it. He thought that I would need closure, or something, but I see it as a new beginning more than anything. I’ll let you know how it goes, but my next blog chapter will probably not be long, since I’ll be too busy writing this new life chapter.

Extremus: Year 53

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Half a century ago, the original passengers and crew of the Transgalactic Ship Extremus began an intergalactic voyage across the galaxy, which was set to take 216 years. That wasn’t some random number that they came up with. That was how long it was going to take to reach the outer edge of the Milky Way. Well, only going for 215 years would have been fine, or all the way to 217, but they had to draw the line somewhere, and 216 was a nice number. Year 217 is, therefore, known as the first year in a new era. By then, the destination should be reached, and the descendants of the original people should be starting their new lives. If this is where Tinaya and Lataran are now, they have just traveled through time.

“Yes, you did jump through time,” Avelino confirms, “but not actually to the year 217. That’s what we call this place sometimes, because that is our primary focus. This is what we’re going to use to find the final destination.”

“Isn’t that what the Extremus itself is for?” Lataran questions.

“No. When the last generations of the generation ship reach the end of their mission, they will want to get off the ship, and start to build their new homes on the new world. They can’t do that if they don’t know where the new world is. There are hundreds of millions of habitable worlds out there, but we don’t know precisely where they are, or which one we’ll want to call home. So the Bridger section was sent a year ahead of time to scout. We’ll find it first. It may take us the whole year, but that should be enough time to get it done before everyone else arrives.” Avelino points back down the dark hallway. “You’ve just stepped through a portal between the two ships, which are a light year apart, and always will be.”

“But that doesn’t make any sense,” Tinaya points out. “Admiral Yenant changed course. We’re not going the same direction we were when this started. The assumption was always that you were parallel to us, at least for the people who knew that the Bridger section was an entirely separate ship in the first place. How can you be following us from in front of us?”

“Time travel,” Avelino says simply. “We’re not just a light year ahead. We’re a year ahead. That’s how the portal works. It doesn’t only jump through space; it jumps forward in time.”

“So that hallway goes back to September 5 2321, and this to September 5, 2321?”

“Correct,” Avelino agrees.

“Good. I can’t lose a year of school,” Lataran says in relief.

“You’ll have to lose time,” Avelino counters. “We need the two of you here, so you can take part in some...extracurricular training.”

“Spycraft?” Tinaya guesses.

Avelino smiles. “That’s why we chose you, Miss Leithe, Fifth of Ten, because sometimes you just...know things.”

“It’s called intelligence.”

He chuckles softly.

“You called me Fifth of Ten, as if I’m going to be a captain one day,” Tinaya began. “But that’s impossible. I didn’t get on the captain’s track. Or I didn’t stay on it, anyway. I was humiliated.”

“That’s why we didn’t take you out of school any earlier than we did. You’ve gone through enough of it that people will respect it once you do become captain. But we had to stop you from going to college, because you’re currently the perfect age to start your real training. The Extremus has never had a captain with the skills that you will possess when you begin your shift in 2337.”

“That’s not the end of Tamm’s shift,” Lataran contends.

Avelino frowns now. “It will be.”

“Okay, you exist a year in the future. That I can wrap my head around. But now you know things that won’t happen for another fifteen years? How do you have all of this intel? Do you have seers? Time machines? What?”

“That will all be part of your training while you’re on this side of the bridge.”

“Even if she agrees to this,” Lataran says, “I can’t. I have to get back to real, publicly visible, college.”

“You’ll have to defer.”

“I haven’t even finished out one year,” Lataran argues.

“I know,” Avelino acknowledges, “but the curriculum is not going to change by the time you return. Trust me, it will all be worked out. The people of the ship are gonna be a little confused, but officially, you had to take a break from school for personal and private reasons, and will be able to restart your studies right where you left off. If you had homework due tomorrow, you’ll turn it in two years from tomorrow.”

“Two years?” Tinaya exclaims. “Me, I understand, “but she has people who care about her. She can’t be away from them for that long.”

“Ours is a two-year program,” Avelino explains, “just like regular college. “I assure you that you have plenty of time. Like I said, your respective crew shifts won’t start until Year 68.”

“You’re acting like we don’t have any choice in the matter,” Tinaya decides.

“You do,” Avelino assures them. “We’re not monsters. We’ve just...never been rejected before. We choose our candidates very carefully.”

“Exactly how many students have walked the halls of your secret school on the secret ship in the future?”

“Not many,” Avelino answers. “It’s quite elite.”

Tinaya studies his face for a few moments. Lataran is about to speak when she notices this, knowing what Tinaya looks like when she’s trying to figure something out that someone doesn’t want her to know. “Bronach Oaksent was one of them. He’s a dark mark on your record.”

Avelino scoffs and shakes his head. “How the hell did you determine that? None of your predecessors knew that he was one of ours.”

“You’re telling us that the greatest threat this ship has ever seen once worked for you?” Lataran asks, horrified.

His head sank. “Oaksent was part of the program before the ships left. Before either ship left. We didn’t realize that he was a threat to us until the last second. He was...dangerous. We wish we hadn’t taught him anything. We wish we hadn’t shown him anything. So we left him behind. Somehow, he managed to change his name, and board the Extremus proper. We didn’t know until it was too late.”

“I always thought that was a fake name,” Tinaya says.

“Yeah, he adopted it from an insidious propagandist from ancient Earth history.”

“What a nutsack.”

Avelino nods, intending to shift the conversation back to the matter at hand. “I know this is a shock, but the time you spend here will be well worth it. You’ve never heard of this, not because the people we train are all anonymous, but because many of them are not. We know how to reintegrate our students. I’m sure you’ll miss your families, and they’ll miss you, but this is important. This is really important.”

“I wanna talk to him.”

“Him who?” Avelino asks.

“Yenant. I want to speak with Admiral Halan Yenant. He answered yes to The Question, didn’t he?”

Avelino sighs.

“What are you talking about?” Lataran doesn’t know the secret. “Yenant is dead.”

“We are not allowed to divulge who answered yes, and who answered no,” Avelino tries to explain. “Even if we could, we wouldn’t be able to allow crosstalk.”

She laughs. “You’ve told me that supposedly important people have gone to your secret college, but you’ve also told me that no captain has been made aware of it. It’s my understanding that there are more things that captains don’t know about the bridger section than the things they do know. If you want to have a captain in your pocket, and you think I’m the best for the job, then make an exception, and let me speak to Admiral Yenant. I know he’s alive, or you would be reacting differently to my demands.”

“How could he possibly be alive?” Lataran presses.

“You’ll see,” Tinaya tells her.

“No,” Avelino objects quickly. He pauses again and sighs. “I will log you into the system, but not her. We can explain it to her afterwards, but we cannot make a habit out of this. I will allow one exception, but not two, Miss Leithe. No captain is worth that.”

Tinaya gently closes her eyelids, and nods.

“Very well. Follow me.”

Lataran reaches out as Tinaya is walking away, but makes no attempt to hold her back. “Naya,” she whispers earnestly.

“Follow the lights, Miss Keen,” Avelino tells her without looking back. “They’ll lead you to your new cabin.”

Green lights begin to point down the other direction, but Lataran isn’t ready to go just yet. She secretly types out a quick message on her watch, and programs a beacon. She pops the memory card from it, and throws it all the way down the hallway that leads back to the Extremus proper. Then she heads for her cabin.

Tinaya makes her way there half an hour later. “Hey.”

“Did you speak to Yenant? Tell me about The Question.”

“The Question is just one part of a giant conspiracy that’s hanging over our ship like a dark cloud. There’s a lot I still don’t know, but it’s more than I thought before. This whole thing is being tailored. Free will is an illusion. The Bridger Section—Year 217—whatever they want to call it; it’s not just about finding the destination planet ahead of time. They control so much from here. No, I didn’t speak with Halan, but I never wanted to. I just wanted access so I can code a backdoor. Now I can get in anytime I want, as long as we stay here.” She points to the floor demonstratively.

“Is that wise? Is it safe?”

“Probably not.” But she has to do something. There’s too much power here. It goes against the spirit of the mission, and the purpose of the people’s journey. Tinaya thought she knew the big secret. She had no idea. She has to put a stop to it, and if that means getting in on the inside, then okay. “You can go home, but I have to do this.”

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The Advancement of Mateo Matic: August 1, 2398

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The night nurse comes into the hospital room to check Alt!Mateo’s vitals. At first, he doesn’t notice the other Mateo in the chair next to him. He managed to get some sleep last night, but only a few hours, and now he’s probably awake for the rest of the day. “Oh, I didn’t see you there,” the nurse whispers. He looks over at the one in the bed, and then back to Mateo. “Twins?”

Mateo rolls his eyes as if he’s heard it a million times before. He hasn’t, but if they really were twins, this is likely how he would react to such a dumb question with such an obvious answer. “All my life. Sometimes I feel like we’re the same person, but other times, I look at him, and I don’t know who he is.”

The nurse nods, and takes a look at Alt!Mateo’s chart. “He got hit by a car?”

Mateo nods. “It was his fault. He’s an idiot.”

“All the smart genes went to you in the womb, huh?”

“No,” Mateo replies. “I’m an idiot too.”

This gets a chuckle out of him. “Can I get you anything? Some water, a soda?”

“I’m all right, thanks.” Mateo waits until the nurse is finished with his work before saying, “he’s gone.”

“How did you know that I was awake?” Alt!Mateo asks, turning over to face his other self.

“Because I know you.”

Alt!Mateo turns back away. “No, you don’t.”

“Do you remember what happened to you?”

“It’s like ya said, I was hit by a car...because I’m an idiot.”

“You ran into traffic, because you desperately wanted to get away from me and Delaney,” Mateo clarifies for him.

“Delaney?” Alt!Mateo echoes.

“That’s what we call her, to distinguish her from Leona Matic and Leona Reaver.”

“Peachy.”

“Would you like to be called something else too?”

“Don’t matter to me. Call me Alligator Pimpleface, for all I give a shit. Just get out of my room, and out of my state.”

“How much did it cost?”

“How much did what cost, New Jersey?” It’s surreal, talking to an alternate version of himself with the same sense of humor. It’s hard to trip him up when he sees every punchline coming a mile away.

“One dollar, Bob,” they say simultaneously like creepy twinspeak in a horror film.

Alt!Mateo can’t help but laugh at this, causing Mateo to hope that he might be opening up. “Look, I don’t know what you’ve been through, but...you’re not alone anymore. We can help you. All you have to do is let us. Come back.”

“Who told you that I was ever alone?” Alt!Mateo question.

“I don’t see anyone else in the room,” Mateo points out.

“They’re probably just getting tea.”

“What’s got you so upset? So sour?”

Alt!Mateo sighs, and sits up quickly, immediately regretting straining his still healing body, but pushing through it. “What has me upset? I killed someone, Matt!” He realizes that he doesn’t want to be so loud in public, but no one seems to have heard. “I killed an innocent woman. And to make matters worse, it hasn’t even technically happened yet. But that doesn’t mean I can stop it, so now she dreads every second she spends above ground, because she knows it’s coming, she just doesn’t know when.”

“Most everyone lives their life like that,” Mateo points out. “Most people don’t know the date of their own deaths.”

“Yes, because that’s what God decided. It’s not like that for her. I’m the one who put her in that position. No wonder God doesn’t come down and help us. He’s probably paralyzed with guilt!”

Mateo waits a beat. “You know that no one ever really dies, right?”

“What, like, we all go back to the earth, and it’s the cycle of life?”

“No, I mean that literally. It’s called the afterlife simulation. There are tiny little tube things in your brain, which are actually organic computers. They convert all of your thoughts to digital format, and when you die, your consciousness is uploaded to a server in the center of the galaxy, on a giant space statue called the Matrioshka Body.”

Alt!Mateo peers at him. “That sounds insane, Matt, and that is saying a lot, given what we both know about how the world works.”

“Worlds,” Mateo corrects. “There are countless others, and I know a lot more than you. I don’t remember how many times I’ve died. What I’m trying to tell you is that Leona is going to be fine. She’ll just go up to the big video game in the sky. So shall you.”

Alt!Mateo considers the possibility for a moment. “Even if that’s true, it doesn’t matter. It won’t last.”

“What do you mean?”

“We’re from an old timeline,” Alt!Mateo reasons. “It’s gonna collapse, whether we’re in this so-called simulation, or not. Everybody dies.”

Mateo closes his eyes, embarrassed at the terrible logical mistake he made. “You’re right. Reality One doesn’t count. Neither does mine. We keep changing the timeline, so what does that mean for me, and my past?”

Alt!Mateo struggles to lean towards his alternate, almost menacingly. “It means nothing. Life doesn’t matter. Everything you try will be erased...and you too shall be replaced. No rhyming intended.”

Mateo leans back, letting the words sink in. “You’re right again.” He doesn’t let Alt!Mateo be pleased with himself for long, though. “Which begs the question, why are you so butthurt about all of this? Leona Reaver will die no matter what you did.” He shrugs coolly. “She’s even already met her replacements. That’s pretty rare, even in our world...or worlds, rather.”

Alt!Mateo reaches out for the remote, and lowers the head of his bed down until it’s fully flat. “I need to get some real sleep now. Leave me be, please.”

Mateo stands up, and grabs his tea from the table. “Come back to KC, and not for me, but because my guess is that you owe her. She deserves some level of closure before fate intervenes, and spirits her away to her inevitable death. Goodnight, sir.”

Microstory 1812: Civic Duty

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I was alive for the turn of the 20th century, but I obviously don’t remember it. I was only a few months old at the time, but I still get people asking me what the 19th century was like. I suppose it wasn’t much different than the early 1900s. If there’s one thing I’ve learned in my 122 years on this Earth, it’s that things don’t change dramatically. They’re drastic. It’s not like January 1, 1980 hit, and everyone who was listening to disco at the time turned it off all at once. Life is a journey, and it’s hard to see the path while you’re on it. Living all these years, I can see my pattern; where I’ve been, and whether I made the right choices. I made a lot of mistakes, and I die with a lot of regrets. We didn’t have much money growing up, but my parents saved so they could send me and my two sisters to college. They wanted us to get ourselves educated, so that we could choose whether we wanted to work or not. Some women didn’t have a choice back then. If you didn’t continue school, you had to find a man to take care of you. Well, those weren’t the only two options, but they were the only two society told you about. I was the middle child. My younger sister didn’t go, and married the widower who lived a few streets down. Our parents were tight-lipped about our financial situation, so it wasn’t until decades later during a fight when my sister let it slip that she actually did want to go, but I had taken her tuition for myself. I was smart enough to get accepted into a really good school, but unfortunately, it cost a bit more than my parents could afford. Their future son-in-law helped make up some of the difference for me, but that left nothing for my poor baby sister, who ended up being—let’s face it—the prize for his generosity. Reportedly, he would have been willing to shoulder the burden of her higher education too, but I suspect that he strongly discouraged it. He was an old man, and she was a pretty seventeen-year-old trophy. He wanted her to be dependent on him.

As far as I could tell, he wasn’t abusive, even for the time period, which saw more blatant inequality than 2021. And when he died, she inherited all of his money, so maybe she was the one with the last laugh. I’m certainly not laughing. I went on to find my own problems. I met a nice girl in college. By then, homosexuality was all right on principle, but there was this unfair unwritten rule that you didn’t go down that path unless you were infertile, or had already given the country at least two more children. You see, we had just suffered a massive population decline from a nasty pandemic, and a lot of propaganda came out, urging people to do their part by having as many children as possible. Gay people weren’t deviants anymore, but they weren’t productive. I could have my girl on the side, but I was expected to find a man, so we could do our civic duties together. It was a war, really, against a neighboring country. Both were vying for global domination, but instead of amassing weapons, or developing technology, they figured that growth in all sectors meant prosperity. The man I married ended up not being able to have children, which of course, defeated the whole purpose. Still, neither he, nor the love of my life, were willing to share, so we all lost. Divorce was frowned upon back then, even when it could help the population problem. I wasn’t miserable my whole life, though. He wasn’t nearly as old as my brother-in-law, but he died long before me, and I was free to be myself. By that point, the population was fine, but my love had moved on without me. So I die here today, as alone as I always have been.