Microstory 2042: New York

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As I said before, the state of New Jersey worked really hard to find out if my parents were still alive in Ethiopia. They were unable to find them, or any other family that I might have there, which is why my fathers were allowed to adopt me. When I was 7 years old, though, that changed. A special charity organization flew to Ethiopia, and started offering free DNA testing. Anyone in our country can send in a sample so a computer can study their DNA, but it’s not that easy in other parts of the world. An aunt of mine participated in this special program, and when they uploaded the information to the big worldwide database, they found that I was a match. My fathers did it for me early on after I first met them, because they wanted to know whether there were any medical issues that they should be worried about. When they found out that I did have some family in Africa, they decided that we would all three fly out there to meet them. As it turns out, my birth parents were dead, but my aunt had a husband, and they had a bunch of kids, who were my brand new cousins. They were happy that my papa and dad were now my parents, so they didn’t want to take me away, but they did want to have relationships with me. So my fathers worked really hard to help them get to the United States. It has taken years since 2019, but they are finally living here, and on their way to becoming U.S. citizens. I wish my papa was alive to see it. Oh, and we had a really long layover in New York while we were waiting to fly to Africa, so my papa was able to see it.

The Advancement of Mateo Matic: March 22, 2399

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Labhrás Delaney steps into the apartment behind Winona, and looks around with a frown on his face. It’s small, and it could do with some cleaning, but he’s lived in worse. He did not exactly grow up rich. That’s why he did what he used to do, because he had to. He’s trying to do better now, but he certainly wouldn’t say that he regrets his past transgressions. That’s not true; he literally said that he regrets everything, but he didn’t really mean it. He just knew that the only way he was ever going to get back to the surface of the planet was to tell these people what they wanted to hear. Luckily, lying is his specialty. He steps a little farther into the unit. “What’s this?”

“It’s your new place,” she tells him.

“I thought we were just stopping by to run an errand. You bought this for me?”

“Well, the government did; not me personally, and they rented it. Surprise!”

He shakes his head, looking at the mold on the wall, and incessant leaky faucet.

“Mateo taught me a phrase from his reality. He said that beggars can’t be choosers. This is what’s available. The government’s not going to spring for a penthouse apartment overlooking the water.”

“No, it’s not like that. I thought I would be living closer to my granddaughter.”

“She’s not your granddaughter yet, and I don’t think she thinks of you that way. And anyway, she lives in New York now, and I don’t think that she’ll be coming back anytime soon. There’s something there that cannot be moved.”

“Oh, you gave me access to the news down in the prison. I heard all about it. Which is why I was hoping that you would relocate me there.”

“That’s not a thing,” Winona says apologetically. “We don’t move people around. You began your rehabilitation in KC, because that’s where the person who was in charge of it—i.e. me—needed to be. We only relocate through the witness protection program.”

“I witnessed a murder,” Labhrás discloses.

“Are you talking about your own murder?”

“Would that not count? Hold on, I can think of another crime...”

“I’m sorry, Mister Delaney, but if you don’t want to go back to the black site, this place is your only option. You’ll also need to fulfill the requirements we spoke of. You need to check in regularly, stay sober, earn gainful employment by the end of April—”

“You don’t think this is going to last another month, do you?”

“What do you mean?”

“Word has spread, Miss Honeycutt. The world is ending.”

“Who did you overhear discussing that?” she questions.

“The guards never told me their names.”

“So it was a guard.”

“Don’t get anyone in trouble on my account.”

She sighs. “Leona is going to reveal herself to the Daltomists, and therefore the whole world, on Friday. The last thing she needs is a presumably dead future relative of hers showing up to make things even more complicated.”

He seems to get it now. He throws his knapsack onto the counter. “Thank you.”

“Try to find some joy here. This is the kind of second chance that no one else has ever received. I’ll come by to take you shopping tomorrow.”

The Advancement of Mateo Matic: February 13, 2399

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Labhrás moved Leona and Tarboda to a much nicer room, with cots to sleep on, clean running water, and control over the lights. They also allowed them to have a shower, and eat some real food, instead of this reality’s version of hard tack. The door was still locked, but he promised to let Tarboda go at the right time so as to avoid any run-ins with the authorities. The exchange was on, so they all had to get a good night’s rest. It was hard to tell when it was bedtime since Leona had yet to see a window, so they just turned in when they felt tired.

It’s the morning, and Tarboda is gone. Leona is at the exchange with her future grandfather, the two smelly brothers, and a few other goons. Or maybe they’re henchmen. There’s a difference, apparently, and they would probably be offended by being called the wrong one. Labhrás altered the conditions a little bit. Leona is in chains, and she is wearing a hood, but the shackles were bought at a magic shop, so they only appear to be locked, and the hood is see-through. They still want to make it look real while Leona finds out who’s really after her, and why. They’re standing on the docks, which is a truly unique locale for a ransom exchange. Really, no one has ever thought of that before. Why don’t criminals meet at the docks more often?

Leona still doesn’t know where she is. It’s cool, which implies they’re still in the northern hemisphere, and she can taste the salt in the air, so the body of water to her left is an ocean, rather than a lake. That tells her that she’s not in a landlocked region, which rules out places like Kansas. She never thought they were in Kansas, but it would have been nice. As far as she’s aware, her grandparents emigrated out of Ireland, and went straight to Topeka, so it wouldn’t have been the craziest of developments. Then again, they’re in a completely different reality now. Labhrás has probably never even heard of Topeka, and maybe not even Kansas City. None of that has happened yet, and all this timey-wimey stuff is weird and complicated, so maybe it never will. Maybe everything they’re doing now will negate her existence, kind of like what Mateo did to himself when he killed Adolf Hitler, but worse because it would happen in every timeline for her, and she wouldn’t even have the satisfaction of killing Hitler.

“Are ya still with us?” Labhrás asks.

Even with this hood on, he could tell that Leona was stuck in her head. “I’m fine. What time is it?”

“Half past they’re feckin’ late,” he answers. “Pardon my English, Madam.” Hm. What is England to him?

“Doesn’t bother me. That’s not even a real word,” she jokes.

The smellier brother waits for a solid minute before responding with, “yes, it is.”

We don’t wait much longer before a well-dressed man carrying a cane shows up. He’s kempt and confident, and does not seem embarrassed by his tardiness. Leona doesn’t recognize him. Now that doesn’t mean he’s not the one who put a price on her head, but she’s still getting the impression that the true force behind this mess is still living incognito. This guy’s just a lackey. “My name is Connell Arrington,” he announces. British accent; British name. Where are these people from? Happy cliché day, anyway.

“You don’t look like you’re carrying very much money on you?” Labhrás notes.

“Everything is electronic these days, my dear.”

“That’s not what we agreed on. We want untraceable bills.”

“Impossible. You’ll take what you can get, or you’ll get nothing.”

Labhrás just fumes.

Connell goes on, “you identified yourselves as the Bounty Hunters of the Old World. As a result, we are unaware of your specific designation. What is your name?”

“Labhrás Delaney.”

Connell’s eye twitches. He looks over at Leona. “You would give up your own kin for a bit of cash?”

Labhrás looks over at Leona as well. “We are not related.”

Connell twitches again. “You expect me to believe it to be a coincidence that you are both named Delaney?”

“Her name is Leona Matic,” Labhrás tries to clarify.

“Pull the hood off, please,” Connell requests.

Smelly Goon One does so without waiting for Labhrás’ go-ahead.

“Did you not tell him your unmarried name?” Connell asks Leona.

“Do we know each other?” Leona asks, undeftly changing the subject.

“You and I have never met,” Connell begins. “Neither have you and the man I work for. Yet you have wronged us both, and we are here to collect on your sins.”

Leona narrows her eyes at him. “Which sins?”

“All of them,” Connell replies.

“Who are you to make me answer for all of them?”

“We are...in a great position to do so. That is what gives us the right.”

“How are we related?” Labhrás questions, frustrated at the tangent.

She’s been avoiding eye contact, but that’s no longer viable. “It’s complicated.”

“Is it?” Connell asks. Then he has a realization. “Ah, I see. Who is he, then; your son? Great great great great great grandson?”

Labhrás is super confused now.

“You’re my grandfather,” Leona corrects while continuing to look at Labhrás.

“How is that possible? You may be older than me!”

“Time travel, old chap!” Connell says jovially. “She’s from the future.”

“I’m not from the future,” Leona contends. “You are. I don’t know why you go back in time, or how you do it, but it has to happen, or I never exist.”

“Is that all it would take?” Connell asks. “I believe we’ve found our solution.” He twists the handgrip of his cane, and pulls out a gun, instead of the usual sword. He shoots Labhrás in the chest, and then ducks away to avoid gunfire from the henchmen.

Leona catches Labhrás as he’s falling to his back, already coughing up blood. She removes her shackles, and tries to apply pressure to the wound, but he’s not going to make it. “I’m sorry. I would have told you if I thought that this might happen.”

“I’m sorry,” he struggles to say. “Ta...Ta...”

“Thanks? Are you trying to say thanks?”

He shakes his head. “Tarboda. Tarboda is dead.”

Leona’s face falls. Tarboda was not a great friend, but he could have been one day, and he did nothing to deserve that. “You’re no grandfather of mine.” Connell is still in a firefight with the rest of Labhrás’ people. She stands up, and ignores the flying bullets. She walks across no man’s land, and approaches him.

“I thought you would disappear before our very eyes,” he says to her.

“That’s not how it works, you bleedin’ eejit. Now take me to your boss.”

The Advancement of Mateo Matic: Year 252,398

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Curtis and Cheyenne have known each other for eight years now, which Mateo is finding surreal, because he’s awake even less than they are. Though, he shouldn’t think it’s that weird, since skipping time has been his life for awhile now. The two lovebirds met tens of thousands of years ago, but since they have so much time on their hands, they have spent some of it keeping track of actual time. In fact, that eight year figure doesn’t even account for the time that one of them was out of stasis without the other. A normal couple would count all the time they were geographically apart from each other, so all told, it’s longer than that. There aren’t a whole lot of options for partnerships here. Between relatives and external relationships, neither Curtis nor Cheyenne has a large pool to choose from. So they worked really hard to test their relationship with each other to make sure that it was real, and not just a last man on Earth type of situation. After all that, they have decided that they really do care for each other, and exclusively so, even if there were billions of others around. They want to get married, but the problem is that no one here is qualified to officiate the ceremony, or sign the papers.

“We don’t need a big ceremony, though,” Cheyenne says. “Are you sure that no one vested that power in you?”

“Certain,” Danica replies. “It’s the responsibility of someone else in our world.”

“Well...could you contact that person?” Curtis requests.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know how,” Danica apologizes.

“I know how.” Bhulan steps forward.

“You do?” Danica question.

“Not her; me,” Bhulan says, confusingly. “This is Aquila.” Oh, right.

“Oh.” Danica nods. “You know how to contact The Officiant?”

“Yeah, I know a lot of things,” Aquila replies.

“I’m not sure that she can come to this reality,” Danica says, worried.

“She can go anywhere,” Aquila claims. At least that is the assumption. Perhaps they should come up with some way of knowing which one is talking. One of them could always be wearing sunglasses, or be holding the talking stick. “Trust me.”

“Okay. We have nothing else to do for the next 4,000 years, so let’s plan a wedding. And by let’s, I mean anyone else, because that is not my strong suit. Really, you don’t want me involved. I can set up chairs, or fold announcements, but...”

“We don’t need much,” Cheyenne says. “We can’t invite anyone else, and don’t really want to.”

Curtis is confused. “Wait, we talked about this,” he says to her in a hushed tone.

“Yeah, and I don’t think they’re gonna be able to swing it,” she replies in a more hushed tone.

They continue to argue softer and softer until no one else can here.

“Aquila, do you know if the Officiant would be able to transport people here, like her family?” Curtis asks.

“I doubt it, but you can ask. You can’t have the wedding today, she’ll want to meet you first, and then give you time.”

“Great. Call her.”

“I have to do it alone,” Aquila explains. “That includes you,” she says to her own shoulder, likely as a way of communicating with her brainmate, Bhulan. “I’ll go dormant, like we practiced,” she then says, suggesting that this is Bhulan speaking now. Yeah, a good talking stick would really help. “Just remember to wake me up.”

Aquila goes off to do whatever she needs to do to make contact with the Officiant. By the time she walks back into the room, the woman herself has arrived. A bookcase in the master sitting room disappears, and is replaced with the door to the Officiant’s office. She steps out. “Who are the lucky two?”

Curtis and Cheyenne step forward.

“Come with me so we can talk. This could be the first of many, or the last.” As they’re stepping up to the door, she looks at the rest of the group. “I need someone to join us as witness.”

Bhulan raises her hand.

“Only one witness, please,” the Officiant clarifies. “How about you, sir?”

“Me?” Mateo questions, looking behind him to see if she means it.

“Yes, you’ve gone through this before, you know what to expect. It could help.”

“We didn’t have a witness at mine and Leona’s meeting.”

The Officiant scowls. “I made a lot of concessions for that marriage. How is it going, by the way?”

“It’s been better,” Mateo replies. “I miss her.”

“Well, come on, then. Your friends need you.”

He wouldn’t feel comfortable calling either of them friends. Curtis is from a timeline that Mateo doesn’t remember, and he’s only ever met Future!Cheyenne. But still, if they need someone to be there, he can’t say no.

Once they’re all seated, she begins. “Why don’t I let you start and drive the conversation? What are your biggest concerns regarding this event?”

“Well,” Cheyenne says, looking over to make sure that Curtis doesn’t want to say something first. “Neither of us wants a big wedding, but I was hoping my family could be there. He thought it would be okay to ask if you could retrieve them for us.”

“I’m afraid I can’t do that,” the Officiant replies. “Guest lists are beyond my purview. We in the business call it scope creep, and it’s caused some issues in past ceremonies. I can, however, perform the ceremony whenever, and wherever, you like. We can wait until you return to your family. Is that a possibility?”

“Not for a long time,” Curtis responds. “But we’re anxious to get to it.”

“Even if we did go back,” Cheyenne says, “people would hear about it, and ask a lot of questions. Who’s this guy? Where did he come from? Why wasn’t I invited? We don’t just want to keep it small, we don’t want excluded people to know about it.”

That’s an interesting take that Mateo and Leona might have tried in another life. There were some people at their wedding that they would not have chosen to invite. They didn’t get the chance to discuss before it was forced upon them. They probably would have split the difference, where all their loved ones could attend, but not the entire multiverse. Maybe they should consider a do-over. It’s certainly possible.

“Snap out of it,” the Officiant instructs with a literal snap of her fingers. “Today is about them. We can discuss your own situation at a later date.”

“Sorry, yes, of course,” Mateo says. He doesn’t remember her being psychic.

The Officiant nods. “Now. What else would you like to discuss?”

“The most important aspect of any wedding ceremony...flower arrangements,” Curtis jokes.

Microstory 963: Adoption

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When I was four years old, and still felt okay with making wish lists, I asked for a baby for Christmas. I wasn’t asking for a baby brother or sister, and I certainly wasn’t asking for no doll. I just figured it was about time I have a child to raise myself. Of course this was an absurd idea, but that’s how deeply my imperative to raise children was, even back then. I ended up getting that doll, named him Johnny, and changed his clothes every other day. A few years later, I had still never had a girlfriend, and didn’t think I ever would. Surprise, Past!Self, you were right. A neighbor told me that some children weren’t raised by their parents; that they were given to other families. She didn’t go into detail about why this was necessary, but I figured it out over time. I realized that this was the most logical choice for me, and I’ve held to that sentiment ever since. There are currently hundreds of thousands of children today in foster care—in the United States alone—who have not yet been placed in their forever families. Many will age out of the system, and have to fend for themselves as adults. This reality bothers me quite a bit, and has led me to developing a fairly radical stance on the matter. I keep seeing TV shows and movies get into this issue. Boy meets girl. Boy and girl fall in love. Boy and girl can’t have children, so they find a surrogate. If it’s a comedy, the surrogate is probably crazy. If it’s a tragedy, the couple just go their whole lives without children. That’s such a terrible message to be spreading to audiences. Infertility/sterility are good reasons to not conceive a child, but not good reasons to not raise a child. It’s troubling how rarely adoption occurs to characters, and they almost never consider adopting an older child. Never forget, you have options.

Everyone wants to be biologically related to their children, and they seem unwilling to budge on this. I don’t how well these fictional stories reflect real life, but judging from the number of foster kids, they’re pretty accurate. The fact is that there are already plenty of people in the world, so we don’t need to be making any more until we find a way to protect those people first. I would love it if your only way of having a child is by conceiving one, or using science, but there are too many kids in need of homes that can’t be unborn. Families come in all shapes and sizes. You don’t need a baby, and you don’t need it to be your baby. Older children need good homes just as much as the babies, but they are easily dismissed—or trivialized, which is how it looks in that new Racist Mark and Rose Byrne film, Instant Family. It’s true that I’ve not yet seen the movie, but since half the trailer shows people “hilariously” getting hit in the head with various objects, I don’t have high hopes for it. Now for the radical part, I’m not entirely convinced that conceiving children shouldn’t be illegal until every child in the world is placed in a good home. The problem is that this would be impossible to enforce, because any punishment for a breach would only hurt children further. So you’re free to go off and live your life as you please, while children across the globe are all but alone. If everyone with the means to adopt did so, our problem would be solved overnight. That’s really why I’m trying to publish a book, because nobody’s going to give a child to a single man who doesn’t have much money, and that has always been my life’s primary driving force. Without it, I probably wouldn’t have any ambition, because the next generation is perpetually the point of life.

Swept Under the Rogue

Click here for Clean Sweep.
Click here for Rogue Possession.

“Ummm...hi.”

“Yeah, hi.”

“My name is Gilbert Boyce.”

“Zeferino Preston. But they call me The Cleanser.”

“They either call me The Apprentice, or Oh My God, Get Away From Me.”

“Stirring fear in others seems to be something that we have in common.”

“The difference is that I do not enjoy it.”

“Maybe you don’t, but that body you’re in sure does.”

“I’m working on that.”

“I have a few ideas.”

“I’m not sure I can trust you. I mean, we’re standing on a frozen lake, for God’s sake.”

“First of all, never rhyme around me. Secondly, frozen lakes are exciting. And C, can anyone trust anyone?”

“I trust...”

“Who? Mateo Matic? Leona Delaney?”

“You stay away from them.”

“Why, ‘cause they’re your friends? You’ve still not learned. How many years are behind you in your personal timeline? You should know by now that guys like us don’t have friends.” Zeferino drew near and spoke softly. “Those two don’t care about you. I saw what happened on that prison tower. You were a patsy. They only let you come along on the jailbreak because they felt bad about it afterwards. Aren’t you angry with him for what he did to you in the Shimmer?”

“I can get over it.” Gilbert drew even nearer, and spoke even more menacingly. “That’s why they’re my friends, and why you have none. They done me wrong, but I can learn to love them again. They felt bad about the prison thing, and had we seen each other again, I’m confident that he would express regret for what he did to me on Worlon. Have you even once felt bad about something you did?”

“Once,” Zeferino answered honestly. “When I killed Horace Reaver, a few spawn ended up as collateral damage.”

“A few what?”

“Don’t worry about it. It’s just that they were innocent, and not a threat to me. I’ve not killed anyone since who didn’t deserve.”

“According to whose calculations?”

“To mine. I have been granted the latitude to make these decisions. I’ve even been asked to do it. You see, we have these contracts...”

“Are you trying to tell me that you have a license to kill?”

“You could put it like that, but I understand that I’m not James Bond in this movie.”

“You’re the villain, yes, I would agree with that assessment.”

“Not sure how interesting a character he would be if he didn’t have any opposition.”

“Are you saying you’re only bad because you believe in some sort of Lucasian cosmic battle between good and evil that can’t end or they wouldn’t be able to keep making movies?”

“It can’t end because that would cause either a boring utopia, or endless, actionless nothingness.”

“I would love to get inside that head of yours to understand how your ego got so goddamn big. You are not the epitome of evil. You’re just part of it.”

“By that logic, Mateo wouldn’t be wholly good.”

“Why are we talking about him? This is a fight between you and me, which is why it has nothing to do with good or evil.”

“We’re talking about him because he’s a tweener.”

“A what?”

“He is supposed to be a salmon, but he’s more influential to our world than any chooser I’ve ever known, or will know. We’re talking about him because he’s a project of mine. If I’m going to do what I need to do, I need him either on my side, or warming the bench.”

“Please, no sports metaphors.”

“Don’t change the subject. This is important. I’m trying to accomplish something here. I’m trying to fix the world.”

“Well, that’s funny...because that’s kinda what I’m trying to do.”

“Riiiight? So you get it?”

“No, I don’t get why you have to kill Mateo.”

Zeferino shook his head. “I don’t have to kill him. In fact, I’m contractually obligated to keep him alive. He’ll cause problems for my work, though. Man, when he gets to the late 23rd century? After he takes on the...it’s epic. People start really paying attention after he does all that. I can’t have that. Or at least I need to be in control of it.”

“How are you gonna do that? Torture him? Now that he’s still a young salmon, you think he’ll be more malleable.”

“Nothing so distasteful, I assure you. But yes, he needs to be conditioned. I was under the impression that you would know how to do that.”

“Why would I know anything about brainwashing people?”

“Well, I wouldn’t call it brainwashing, but I don’t think I have to remind you of the time you were the leader of the free world.”

“I spent four years losing everybody’s trust. The real Donald Trump is the one who got all those votes.”

“Still, I think you would have value to me.”

“Well, I have my own agenda, and it doesn’t include you at all. It’s slower, more painful, but it’s also thoughtful and intricate.”

“You want to start at the beginning, yeah I get it.”

“I’m not sure you do. That’s a simplistic perspective of it.” Gilbert thought for a second. “Did you ever get the chance to see Maxxing Out, or its first sequel?”

“I did. How is that relevant?”

“He was trying to create the perfect reality. But he couldn’t do it with all these people getting in the way.”

“So he tried to kill them, yeah. Real noble of you.”

“Don’t focus on the fact that everyone else in the galaxy would die. Remember that he protected all the children.”

“So that he could be a creepy father figure. Gross.”

“Well, I’m not gonna do exactly what he did...but there are a lot of people who just gotta go.”

“You sound like Hitler.”

“I knew you were gonna bring him up. What I wouldn’t give to shoot that man in the head.”

“What would you give?”

“Don’t change the subject,” Gilbert echoed. “What do you want from me? What’s supposed to happen here? I met this weird apparent human in the early 21st century who told me you were there at the same time, but that we weren’t going to meet until later.”

“Oh you were there at Analion’s fall too? Me, you, Kallias Bran. What a weird convergence.”

“Do you know why we’re here together...now, or not?”

“I assumed you were here to help me,” Zeferino said plainly.

“I thought you were gonna help me.”

“Maybe we could help each other.”

“In what capacity?”

“Let’s sign a contract. You help me manipulate Mateo, while I promise not to hurt him, or anyone he cares about.”

“What do I get out of it? I don’t want you to manipulate him.”

“I’ll let you do the one thing you’ve always wanted to do, but never got your chance.”

“What’s that?” Gilbert asked, unconvinced that Zeferino had any clue what he was talking about.

“I’ll give you the opportunity to kill Horace Reaver.”

“He’s already dead.”

“I know, I killed him.”

“And I’m a time traveler, I could always just go back and kill him before you did.”

You could, but then you would lose your power.”

“How do you figure?”

“Horace Reaver is the reason you can do what you do. If you destroy him, it will destroy you. It might even kill you too.”

“Like a vampire?”

“No, not like a vampire. Christ, are movies the only thing you think about? It’s just this weird thing, I can’t quite explain it. But I promise that, if you kill him, you’ll only be killing yourself. He doesn’t have to be alive for you to be what you are, but you cannot be the one who takes him out of the equation.”

“If that’s true—and I’m not saying that I believe you—then how could you help me with that?”

“I have an extraction mirror. It can take people out of the timestream at the moment of their death. That’s your loophole. If you don’t kill him in the timestream itself, then you’re free from the consequences.”

“That sounds made up.”

“I can show you the mirror. I’m not lying.”

“You could be lying about the loophole, or the idea that I would need one in the first place.”

“I could.” Zeferino paused for effect. “But do you really wanna risk that?”

Gilbert thought over it, and even though he knew the Cleanser was a gifted manipulator, he really couldn’t risk the whole thing being true. “An extraction mirror, huh? You mean like—?”

“So help me God, if you say a word about Doctor Who, I’ll just kill you right now. Like, I don’t even care.”

“Fine.”

“So you’ll help me?”

“I will help.”

Zeferino smiled.

“But I will do it in my own way. I need full creative control. You have to trust the process, are we clear?”

“As mud,” Zeferino said.

“I will also need some protection. If you go back on your word, if you break our contract, then you will have to lose something.”

Zeferino laughed. “What could you possibly take from me?”

“One of your sisters.”

Zeferino stiffened up, but knew that he had to remain calm if he was going to get what he wanted. “You couldn’t. I would protect them from you.”

“That may be, but it needs to be in the contract just the same, along with a clause that says you can’t employ help from your family while I’m working for you either. They would make things unfair.”

“Very well. I accept your terms. We shall work out the details, but now, let us drink. I believe this to be your poison of choice?” He apported a bottle of bourbon, as well as two glasses, into his hands.

“If we’re gonna do this,” Gilbert said, “then let’s do it right. I hear the best place to drink is on Luna about 14,000 years from now when Durus collides with Earth.”

“Gilbert, Gilbert, Gilbert. You’re a weird one, aren’t ya? All right, fine by me.”

And so The Cleanser and the soon-to-be-named Rogue, traveled to the future and watched the planet be destroyed by a different kind of rogue. Later, they reluctantly began executing their truly insane plan. Their relationship was never bound to work out, though. Things went horribly wrong seemingly ever other week, and once around Christmas. In the end, Gilbert won out. Even after working against him so long, he managed to get himself back in the good graces of Mateo Matic. Zeferino was no match for the two of them working together. They gathered several other allies along the way, and ultimately bested him in a fight to the death. True to his word, for an earlier breach of contract, Gilbert acted on his promise to kill one of Zeferino’s sisters. He asked for help from a man named The Warrior so that no one would know of his involvement. Unfortunately, she was not the one they should have been worried about. Former Conservator—and current Extractor—Arcadia Preston, would go on to cause for them a great deal more problems. And the only one who could put an end to it was the Cleanser himself. They would need the extraction mirror.

Rogue Possession: Winning (Part V)

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“How did you find me?” Gilbert asked. Neither of them were making any effort to hurt the other, but they were careful about maintaining a healthy distance.

The Weaver held up the hilt of a bladeless knife. “This allows me to track teleportations.”

“That could come in handy,” Gilbert said. “Why don’t I hold onto that for you?”

“I want my Apprentice back.”

“Well, you can’t have him. Here’s something that you need to understand. I’ve been struggling with my purpose my entire life. All along, even with tons of money, I always felt like a loser. Then the world of salmon and choosers falls into my lap. All I could think when I encountered them was, man, I wish I were like them. I wish I could get some control over things. Well now that’s what I have. Now I have real power. I was the President of the United States for four years, and that wasn’t even enough for me. That was first grade table tennis. I want Wimbledon. I want a win.”

“You want to take over the world?”

“Nothing so pedestrian. I want to change the world. I want to fix it.”

“Well you’re not going to be able to accomplish that with the Apprentice’s body, I can guarantee it.”

“Why not?”

“He’s still young, but I see something in him. In his eyes, the way he looks at others. He’s...he’s dangerous.”

“How so?”

“He seems to feel no empathy for others. He’s probably a psychopath. He’s destined to hurt people. I know that, when you possess people, you adopt properties of their personality. You can’t stay good, and keep his body. Besides the fact that such a thing is morally objectionable on its own, the longer he remains in your possession, the worse you’ll be.”

“How is it that you know so much about me?”

“Did I say destiny earlier? I meant future circumstance. He’s not simply bound to turn out bad, he’s known to become bad.”

“Oh my God, if he’s a bad person then why the hell are you teaching him how to use your temporal power?”

“I was hoping to adjust the future by showing him kindness. I cannot do that if you do not return him to me.”

“Well, you’re not wrong about me being corrupted by my possessions, but I’m still the one in control. I can make him better. I can do whatever the opposite of corruption is to him.”

“I cannot take that risk, and I cannot let you continue.” She wasn’t backing down.

“That hilt can track me even when I jump through time?”

“The Apprentice never learned to time travel, but yes.”

“I think I can figure it out. I do it all the time, in my own way.”

“But again, I’ll always find you.”

“That’s why you’ll have to die.”

“And you say you think you’re not becoming too corrupted.”

“This is pure logic. It’s all about survival. You understand.” Gilbert, using one of the Apprentice’s powers, apported a full knife of his own to his hand, and approached the Weaver.”

“My dear sir,” came a voice Gilbert didn’t know. “Could I ask you to not do that?”

“What?”

The man approached the gaslight and showed himself. He was dressed in an all-white suit and a bow tie. He had wild high-standing white hair. Only two people in the world ever looked like that. One of them was Albert Einstein—who was a teenager at this point in history—and the other was Samuel Clemens, otherwise known as Mark Twain. He spoke in an unusual cadence, slowing down and speeding up, carefully choosing his words, as true writers do. His voice was gritty and older than the man speaking it. “I was hoping to dissuade you from harming this woman.”

Gilbert let his arm drop to his side. He was curious, more than anything. “I know you.”

“Well...if you two are time travelers, which is how I understand it, you may know me better than I know myself.”

“Mark Twain,” the Weaver said.

“I prefer Samuel Clemens for the story of my own life. That’s Clemens, with an e.”

“You do not seem surprised at meeting two time travelers.”

Samuel shrugged. “You may not be the first. Who knows?” It was unclear whether he was joking or not. “What I do know is that no good can come from murdering this woman. You may disagree with each other, but you both have the right to live. I suggest you leave it as this...and part ways.”

“He has something I need,” the Weaver insisted. “Someone,” she clarified.

“It sounds like you’re not going to get it. I suggest you take what you can get, which is your life, and hope that it works out.”

The Weaver gave Gilbert this look, like she wasn’t really going to let it go. She was planning on finishing this once and for all when they were out of sight of the human. “If I have no choice...”

“This has to end now,” Gilbert said. He really was being massively corrupted. Donald Trump was bad, but this guy was violent, and his urges were really itching to come out. Gilbert couldn’t help himself. He lifted the knife again and prepared to plunge it into the Weaver’s chest.

An arm appeared and held his own at bay.

“Mateo?”

Mateo Matic still had to use a considerable amount of strength to pull Gilbert’s arm all the way back, and wrestle the weapon from his grip. “Hello, old friend.”

“You look older,” Gilbert pointed out. “Much older.”

“Heh,” Mateo said. “Time, right?”

“What year is it for you.”

“It’s supposed to be 2369, but I’m on a diversion because I need your help for a mission. Actually, I need the Apprentice’s body, and your mind, and I need it before you’re more fully corrupted.”

While Gilbert thought through the ramifications of going to a future he did not understand, Mateo casually greeted one of the most famous authors in history.

“Time is of the essence here. We have a short window when you’re powerful enough to help me but not quite as much of an asshole as you’re going to become.”

“If you know how bad I get, then maybe I should leave this body right now. Maybe I should find a way to stop possessing people altogether, even if it kills me.”

“You cannot do that,” Mateo informed him. “I don’t love the future you create, but it’s the one I know, and I don’t want you making another one. Come with me now, and do some good while you still can. If you kill this woman, though, all hope will be lost. For you, and for me.”

That was a pretty convincing argument. It would be nice to go back to where it all started; when he was both helping, and being helped by, Mateo. “I’m all in. Anything for a friend. I’ve never been to 2369 before. Do they still have bourbon?”

“You won’t be going quite as far as 2369. You’re needed the better part of three decades earlier. And I’m sorry to say that I won’t be able to be there with you either. I have to get back to my own time. You won’t believe what it cost me just to get a diversion trip back here. It’s almost worse than what Dave charged me for a simple Sanctuary ferry.”

“I’m not sure what you’re talking about, but how will I know what to do if you’re not there?”

“You’ll figure it out. First, we have to get there, though. I’ll need you to teleport us to The Great Pyramid of Giza.”

Gilbert took Mateo by the arm, and teleported them away, despite protests from the Weaver. “Why would we need to go there?”

“Stargazer?” Mateo asked. They were standing in what must have been the benbenet of the Great Pyramid. A small window showed the night sky, but it didn’t look like the regular starry heavens. It was a strange, and even somewhat unsettling, mix of swirly colors. This was no normal place.

A middle-aged balding man replied in a Franco-British accent, “I am, yes. I was not expecting passengers. You know that you don’t actually need to be in Aarukhet to access Shimmer, right?”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Gilbert said. “Slow down. I don’t understand what’s happening. What is a Aarukhet? What is Shimmer?”

Mateo ignored him for the moment. “I need you to send this man to Worlon at...” He pulled out a slip of paper. “Let’s see, Leona wrote it down for me.” He turned it around a couple times, trying to find the right scribble among an army of them, all written in different directions. “Zero-point-two-zero-four-four-one-six-c.” He handed the piece of paper to The Stargazer. It’s very important that he arrive on that exact day. If the calculations are off by even—”

The Stargazer dismissed him. “Yes, yes, I know how relativity works, thank you very much.”

While the Stargazer was adjusting his sextant, Mateo finally turned his attention back to Gilbert, who was feeling very confused and left out. “This pyramid was built to focus travel to other planets. Like the man said, normally, you don’t have to actually be here to access the hyperstream they call Shimmer. But that’s because most people are trying to get there instantly. I need you on a delay, and I know that your current body can’t jump through time, which is why the Stargazer has to do it for you.”

“Okay that makes sense...as much as anything in our world could possibly make sense, at least.”

“I’m ready,” the Stargazer said.

Mateo looked at his watch. “Perfect timing. I can’t stay here much longer. There’s one more thing you need to remember, though. When you see the one-eared dog—” Mateo suddenly disappeared

“I sure hope that wasn’t important,” the Stargazer said unsympathetically.

“I appreciate your support,” Gilbert responded sarcastically.

“This is gonna hurt a little bit,” he held the sextant up to Gilbert’s eyes. “You’ll get used to it after a few years, though.”

“A few years!” But it was too late. The Stargazer activated the temporal object and sent him on his way. What both of the others failed to mention was that the delay did not abate consciousness. Gilbert was entirely aware of the passage of time throughout the entire course of the journey. It took him 450 years to reach his destination, and he felt every second of it. Upon arriving on another planet for the first time in his lives, Gilbert Boyce found himself to be extremely pissed off. That anger never really went away, and even after finishing his “mission” and returning to Earth, his rage persisted. Most of it was directed towards Mateo Matic.

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