The Advancement of Mateo Matic: August 16, 2529

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The team stayed on Jaunemus the rest of the day, eating the local cuisine, and recharging their photovoltaics by the star that they were orbiting right now. This moon was a gargantuan spaceship, which could move through space at will. The Jaunemusians couldn’t travel all the way back home to Verdemus to eat lunch with their friends every day, but they didn’t have to stay in one place either. They bounced around the nearest stars in this area, and spent a lot of time in interstellar space to avoid detection.

There was nothing for Team Matic here, so they decided to bug out. “We have to get back to Proxima Doma,” Angela suggested. “We have to find out what happened there, if anything.”

“I thought we were going after Miracle,” Ramses countered.

“That trail has gone cold,” Marie figured. “She has had a whole year to get those cuffs off.”

Leona chuckled. “She has not been able to get them off. They’re held together by a distributive bond. Breaking them would cause her to explode, and I’m the only one with a key.”

They all looked to Ramses for confirmation. He nodded. That was how their EmergentSuits worked. It was how they could be so thin, yet so durable, and protective against harsh environments, like the vacuum of outer space.

“There’s still the question of where she is,” Olimpia tried to remind them. “She could have gone anywhere. I’m guessing the quantum connection doesn’t extend this far.”

“Even I have my limits,” Ramses admitted. “But your husband doesn’t.”

“Me?” Mateo questioned. “If I can find her, why didn’t we do that yesterday?”

“We all needed a break,” Leona explained, “especially you. As I was saying, those cuffs aren’t going anywhere. There was no need to rush off, and besides, I don’t like traveling with low slingdrives. Mateo, your dark particles are the backup, not the other way around.”

“All right,” Mateo agreed. “I’ll use my black magic for a locator spell.”

“That won’t be necessary,” Romana said. No, it wasn’t Romana, but Miracle. She was holding her arms in front of her chest, like a beggar. “Get them off of me, and I’ll agree to transfer to a new substrate. It doesn’t matter anymore. I stole this body because that’s what Pacey asked of me. But I never wanted this.” She sighed, and looked off into a random direction. “I just wan—I just wanted to end him...and his reign of terror.”

The real Romana stepped forward, and placed a comforting hand on Miracle’s shoulder. “You’re not doing this for Pacey, you’re doing it for yourself. You’re from the Goldilocks Corridor.”

Miracle sighed again. “My name isn’t really Miracle. It’s just Mirinda. Mirinda...Oaksent.” They didn’t know exactly what that meant. In modern times, you couldn’t guess someone’s relationship to someone else based on their appearance. They could look 50 years older, but be 200 years younger. She giggled. “You’re all waiting for the clarification before judgment. That’s quite magnanimous of you. I’m his daughter. I’ve been that way for millennia. You see, all those people out here in the Corridor, they are his subjects...his toys. He built them to serve, and to adore him. But the problem with that is they were indoctrinated into belief from birth. Ignorance is the killer. I mean, you showed one person the truth about Earth, and an entire opposing faction spread out from it, which is what he’s always been afraid of. Sycophants who don’t know any better aren’t very satisfying either way. He wanted a group of people who loved him because that’s what they were supposed to do. He wanted a family. He made us just like he made the others, but he made us immortal, just like him. He didn’t really raise us, but we got more face time with him than most, so I suppose he figured that was enough.

“I grew to resent him, of course, which is how we ended up here. In defiance of his plan to curate a family of superhumans, I started fighting back violently. I killed all of my clones, as well as my brothers and sisters’ clones. I didn’t kill them too, but they eventually died, and there was nowhere for their consciousnesses to go. Oaksent doesn’t like virtual simulations, I don’t know why, so there’s no uploading to a central server. There’s just backup bodies. I was just about to kill my own final clone when Pacey found me. He made me realize that Bronach never cared about any of us, which was why he made almost no attempt to stop me. His plans didn’t work. He’s not a likeable guy, and if he didn’t force adoration through ignorance, it wasn’t going to happen. All of his children loathed him. I’m just the only one who wanted to do anything about it. Pacey promised that he could kill my father. He promised to find a way. You were supposed to be that way, but what he didn’t tell me was that you always look for the peaceful resolution. Your ship was literally called the Vellani Ambassador. I’ve been trying to get you to change, but if I thought that anyone could do that, I would never have let my siblings die. I would have tried to call them to action. I believe that I’ve just been trying to replace them...with you.”

Leona stepped forward, and gently held Miracle’s wrists in her hands. It looked like she was about to remove the cuffs from her. “Obligation.”

“Yeah,” Miracle said with a nod. “Wait, what?”

“It’s a movie, about a sibling rivalry that goes too far. The motif throughout is Nazca boobies, which are known for killing their siblings.”

“Oh, I guess that’s kind of similar,” Miracle agreed.

“No, it’s almost the exact same premise. What you just described here, killing off your siblings to drain the parents’ of their power, and their legacy...that is the plot of Obligation. That never happened to you.”

“Well, I hardly think that’s a unique situation. I mean, I’m sure—wait, wait, wait, wait, wait!” she screamed when Leona started to lift her arms up. “You don’t have to do this! Okay, okay, okay, okay, okay! I’ll help you! I’ll switch sides! Just don’t make me transfer out of this body.”

This was such a weird freak out. What was she so afraid of? Why did she not want to transfer to a new substrate? It wasn’t like the processes hurt, or anything. It just felt like going to sleep, and waking up in a different room after surgery. It could be disorienting, but that went away, and relatively quickly. Why did she even ever want Romana’s body if not to parade around as Romana, and give her a bad reputation? They should have asked this as soon as Miracle agreed to keep it. They shouldn’t have been so trusting of her. They won’t make that mistake again.

“Please don’t, please don’t! Miracle continued to beg.

Leona suddenly broke the cuffs apart, and let the nanites recede into her implants. “There you go.”

“You’re setting me free?” Miracle asked, shocked.

“I don’t want us to be enemies anymore. It doesn’t come for free, though. I want you to take us to Pacey. We need to have a talk with him. I’m sick of going through his little minions. It’s inefficient at best.”

Yeah, sure,” Miracle said, stepping away and rubbing her wrists. Déjà vu, this was basically what she looked like yesterday, just before escaping through a black hole portal. “I just need to, uh...speak with him first. I’ll be right back!” Still reminiscent of just yesterday, she fell through a portal, which closed up behind her immediately. And it wasn’t going to reopen.

“Why did you do that?” Olimpia asked her wife.

“She ruined our plans,” Ramses answered for Leona. “Miracle was supposed to lead us to Pacey, not come back here. Matty?”

“Okay,” Mateo said. Gather ‘round.” They huddled in a group, and let Mateo generate a swarm of dark particles to overwhelm them. It was a pretty weak showing, though. There weren’t very many of them. “I think we’re trying too soon! I can’t pull enough out,” he warned. “It took too much to get us to the Fifth Division!”

“That’s okay,” Ramses shouted back. “Just build a bridge! The slingdrives will take us the rest of the way!”

Mateo didn’t exactly know what he meant by that, but his intuition told him to spread the dark particles thin, so they reached far enough out to their destination without being wide enough for a group of seven people to cross over with them. They then activated their slingdrives, and used the signal to navigate them to the right destination. The technicolors came and went, and they found themselves in a familiar place. This was the room they went to before they were knocked unconscious, and inserted into the Underburg simulation with false memories. The place was empty back then, but not this time. Miracle was there, as were Octavia, Pacey, and some other woman. He seemed to like the ladies. He wasn’t happy right now, though.

Miracle’s eyes widened in fear as she stared at the team. She looked over at her boss. “I’m sorry. They took the cuffs off! You said I could come back if they took the cuffs off!”

“We never needed the cuffs, you idiot,” Ramses argued. “He can find anyone in the universe.” He jerked his head towards Mateo.”

“Not with my shielding,” Pacey contended. “There must be something else.”

“Nanites are very smol,” Leona said to him. “They could be on you, without you even knowing it. We never needed the cuffs,” she echoed Ramses.

“You tracked me, like an animal,” Miracle spat.

“You’re a murderer. Which one is worse?”

“Who said I murdered anybody?”

“So you were lying.”

“Enough,” Pacey interrupted. “You obviously came here to talk, so let’s talk. Leave my girls out of it.”

“Mr. Henricksen, again, I’m so—” Miracle tried to apologize.

He held up a commanding hand. “We’ll talk about it later. You both can go now.”

Miracle left, as did Octavia, having never said a word. Miracle was annoying, but an opposing force. Octavia still felt like a betrayal. They wanted to talk to her again too, but on a personal level. Today was about business. The mysterious other woman stayed. She didn’t lurch or hesitate. She knew from the start that he wasn’t ordering her to do anything. If this were an action movie, she would be the one in charge here, and all of their previous dealings were with her henchman or lieutenant, who was only pretending to be in charge. But this wasn’t a movie, was it? Was it? It was a movie before, under the dome. It could certainly be that again, or worse...still.

“I understand that you have reservations about fulfilling the mission,” Pacey began, getting himself comfortable in an arm chair while the woman sat next to him in a hardback.

“That’s an understatement,” Leona said. “We’re not doing it. We don’t need higher compensation, or incentive. We don’t need you to explain why you think we should do it. It’s just not happening. We don’t care if you agree or not. We don’t care what you want or know at all. It’s. Not. Happening. If you have some kind of Plan B, which doesn’t involve us, then I suggest you move forward with it. We’re not interested, and we never were. Why don’t you make like a snowflake, and let it go?”

“I don’t know what that means, but I want you to know that I’m listening, and I hear you. I won’t make you do anything that you don’t wanna do.” He seemed proud of himself for the response, which meant that it was a trick. It probably had something to do with the woman next to him.

They all realized that this wasn’t actually going their way, and it felt exhausting. Mateo stopped forward and placed his hand upon Leona’s chest. He gently nudged her backwards in the direction of the team. “It’s all right. I got this.” He took another step forward, but more towards the stranger. “Who are you? What is your stake in this?”

The woman looked over to Pacey, not for guidance, but more like they were having an unspoken conversation with each other. She lifted her eyebrows to ask a question. He shrugged like the answer was maybe. She pointed at him, and lifted her brows again. He shrugged again, but this time, more as if to say, yeah, fine. They made a couple of other gestures towards each other, all basically implying that they were relenting to the team’s demands, but really, it was impossible to know for sure what they were saying. In fact, they could have been in the middle of an actual psychic conversation. Finally, after Pacey said, “okay” out loud, the woman took a breath, and leaned back in her chair. “I was admittedly hurt when I first heard the term Team Kadiar.”

“No,” Mateo said.

“I felt left out,” the woman went on.

“No,” Mateo said louder. It couldn’t be.

“Yes, it’s true, father. I’m your fourth daughter. Or should I say...your first. His name isn’t Pacey. It’s Séarlas. And I am Franka.”

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Microstory 2538: Personal Chef

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I’ve been cooking my whole life. My grandmother raised me, along with my two siblings. They were older, but they were tasked with other responsibilities to maintain the household. I had a knack for the culinary arts, so that’s what she fostered in me. I cooked all the meals for everyone, and I loved it. My grandmother was very practical, though, so she didn’t let me focus all of my attention on my passion. She made me study all of my subjects in school, and after I graduated, she refused to let me go straight to the culinary institute. She knew that I wouldn’t get much out of a four-year degree, but she didn’t want me to have to rely on only one thing. It wasn’t that she didn’t believe in me, but a cooking school wasn’t going to teach me all of the skills that she thought every adult should have. Spending two years at my community college was a great experience, which I believe turned me into a more well-rounded person. I’m still a chef, and that’s really all I care about, but I also remember reading the books, exploring evolutionary ecology, and learning to speak French. That was a pretty big one. I adore French cuisine, so it made sense to add that to my personal inventory of skills. Once I was done there, I went on to the Antova School for the Culinary Arts, where I graduated at the top of my class. It too was a two-year program, so when I entered the workforce, I wasn’t behind my peers. People often ask if—or even when—I’m going to open my own restaurant, but the truth is that I have no interest in that. There’s too much businessy stuff going on with that. I didn’t study any of that stuff, and I don’t want to return to school to do so. And I don’t wanna do it anyway. It gets in the way of the cooking. Sure, I can slap my name on a building, and call it mine while someone else actually handles the business side of things, but that’s just vanity. I’m perfectly content in the kitchen, working with my hands, and making something that people will enjoy. I never thought I would ever be cooking for a man like Landis Tipton, but who knew such a man would ever exist? It’s not the most exciting role, cooking for only one person who is not a picky eater in the least, but I’m a part of something bigger, and that’s good enough for me. If this job ever ends, I could always start tutoring elementary school students in French.

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 2334: Earth, January 22, 2179

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Dear Corinthia,

I beamed your contact card to dad, and he said that he’s going to write to you as soon as possible. Take that with a grain of salt, because his definition of possible might be different than yours. I would say, give it a couple of weeks, and then maybe just give up. I could talk to him again, if you wanted, but he’s really nervous. He doesn’t know if you forgive him, or hate him, or what. I have not told him anything about you. I told him that you and I were in contact now, and demanded he explain his involvement in our separation thirty-six years ago. I didn’t say anything about your job, or what your life is like on Vacuus. I did divulge that his wife, your mother, was dead. I felt like he had a right to know that, regardless of how at fault he is. Anyway, I hope that whatever happens between the two of you, it doesn’t negatively impact our relationship. I think he may be partially worried about that too. I want you to know that I won’t let him ruin our new sibling connection, and I would hope that you don’t let whatever he does or says—or doesn’t do or say—stop you from wanting to converse with me. Okay, I think I’m done with all this negativity now. You inspired me today. I actually don’t have much idea of how the platform can move from one part of the ocean to another. You’re right, it’s pretty big, so it can’t be easy. I’ve started taking some courses on it, not necessarily so I can tell you, but because I would like to understand it myself. I’m so old, I doubt that I’ll ever become an engineer, or a mechanic, or a sailor, but it doesn’t hurt to learn more stuff.

Until next time,

Condor

The Advancement of Mateo Matic: January 3, 2399

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Alyssa wraps her towel around Leona Matic’s body, wishing that she had a robe instead, and peeks her head out into the hallway. It’s kind of annoying now, not having a bathroom directly attached to her room. Then again, this was how she grew up. She had to share one with her brothers and sister growing up. What’s awkward here is that she still looks like Leona. It’s not her face, though; she’s a temporal illusionist, so it’s not the first time that she’s looked like someone else. It’s the rest of the body. Seeing it, washing it, using the toilet. It all feels like a violation. Leona told her that it was fine, partly because this isn’t even her original body anyway, but that hasn’t made things any less weird.

By the time she makes it to the shower room, Mateo has come around the corner, holding his own shower stuff. “Oh, sorry. Go ahead.”

“There’s more than one stall in there,” she points out.

“That’s okay, I’ll just wait.”

Alyssa frowns, but doesn’t enter the room.

“Have you talked to Ramses about switching to your old body? When does he think it’ll be safe?”

“Oh, it’s safe now,” she replies. “I just don’t really want to switch back just yet...”

“Why not?” He starts thinking about it when she doesn’t answer. “Oh, you like the idea of being able to teleport and survive in the vacuum of space.”

“I haven’t tried to do anything yet, I’m kind of scared, but yeah. Is that wrong?”

“No, it’s not wrong, I’m sure—” He stops talking abruptly, and a look of horror appears on his face. “Oh, no.”

“What? Did I already mess something up?”

“No. No, you didn’t do anything wrong. This is their fault. They should have seen this coming. In fact, Ramses shouldn’t have let you even attempt to transfer to Leona Reaver’s body, because something like this may have ended up the consequence.”

“What? What consequence? Tell me.”

“It’s hard to explain, and I definitely don’t understand it, but when we were resurrected from the afterlife simulation, the man in charge added a code to our minds that gives us our time skipping pattern. We can’t delete the code, or modify it. We can’t even get rid of it by switching to new bodies, because it’s a part of us. Every time we transfer to a new body, it somehow becomes a part of it too. Again, I don’t get how it works, but that body you’re in right now has the code...and now so do you. You are now like us, and it apparently can’t be undone.”

“So once you five start jumping through time again, I’ll go with you?”

“Yeah, unless Ramses can finally figure out how to stop it, which he might actually, because he didn’t really have time to work very hard at it the first time it happened, and now we’re in this world, which has different rules.”

This is big news, and a huge game-changer for Alyssa. It explains why all these people already knew her from the future. She would not officially join the team if something like this hadn’t happened. They wouldn’t have asked her, and she wouldn’t have been able to keep up. She needs some time to process. Without saying another word, she just walks through the door, and spends a good forty minutes under the hot water. The good thing about this being a medical facility is the shower seat.

The Advancement of Mateo Matic: September 14, 2398

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Ramses is back in his own body. That’s the first thing Mateo wanted done when they returned to Kansas City from their nearly three week-long ordeal into the bulkverse, and between the realities. They didn’t switch bodies, though. Ramses took his place where he belongs, but Erlendr was left in the Insulator of Life. He’ll be trapped there until he can be delivered to his fate in the afterlife simulation, where Past!Leona murders him with a zeroblade. Now no one is in Leona Reaver’s body. It’s destined to return to its native reality as well, so it can die for real—fortunately without the consciousness that once inhabited it, however. They have to figure out how they’re going to make that happen, just to be safe. They don’t want a doomed substrate floating around that someone might end up in without a chance to escape before fate intervenes, and destroys it forever.

Trina’s body is currently not being used either. Its original consciousness found itself in a new home in the main sequence, and lived a complete life from then on, choosing not to undergo any significant life extension treatments or enhancements. So that’s done, and will likely not be undone. Unlike Reaver’s body, Trina’s isn’t destined for anything. If they wanted to, they would be able to keep it indefinitely, but they’re not going to do that, because it’s unnecessary and macabre. Maybe if they were discussing an adult substrate, it would be one thing, but they don’t want to leave themselves open to the option of transferring someone into the body of a child. That’s just creepy. They might regret not having the alternative later, but they will burn that bridge when they come to it. Trina deserves to be put to rest in all her forms. They’re on their way to a memorial service, one that her brothers, Carlin and Moray can attend, since they could not be present for the first one.

In this region in the main sequence, normal people are not allowed to dig the graves for their family and friends. It’s a liability issue that requires paid employees to take part in the work. For religious reasons, the law can’t really stop it from being a thing, so that’s what they’ve chosen to do. They’ve selected a non-denominational cemetery, since Trina wasn’t old enough to come to her own decision about what faith she would follow. This is a sacred space where any interreligious squabbles people might have with one another are put aside. Everyone has the right to bid farewell to their loved ones. Carlin and Moray are young, but they’re both old enough to wield a shovel. They’re mainly responsible for the digging, but Mateo and Ramses are helping as well.

Now the youngest, little Moray has grown tired of the work, and they’re not even halfway through. He climbs out of the grave, embarrassed and ashamed. “It’s okay.” Heath has shown up without anyone realizing. “I got you.” He gently takes the shovel from the boy, and hops in to continue the digging.

“Thank you for coming,” Marie says to him.

“I’m not here for you.”

That’s when they notice that he did not come alone. Vearden and Arcadia are here too, arms locked together. Are they together, together? “We’re here for you, even though we don’t know you very well,” Vearden says.

“Have you two been living in the condo the whole time?” Kivi questions.

“Yeah, it’s an unfilmed updated reboot of Three’s Company,” Arcadia jokes softly.

Marie doesn’t know what to think of all this.

“We assumed that you ran off to a far corner of the Earth,” Leona tells them. “We never thought to look this close.”

“That’s what we were planning to do,” Arcadia says. “Starting at the Bran safehouse seemed like the most logical first step.”

“We didn’t know that someone would be coming back to it, especially not so soon,” Vearden adds. “We talked, and agreed to share the space as outcasts.”

“No one cast anyone out,” Marie argues.

“Let’s not fight today,” Heath requests.

Marie looks at her bare wrist. “Well, I’m free tomorrow, and everyday after that.”

“I’ll come back when I’m ready. Today is just about Trina and the McIvers.”

“How did you even find out about the service?” Mateo asks.

Heath can’t help but glance over at Angela, not sure if she wants to keep their link secret or not. They all look over at her. “Someone had to maintain contact. It’s a safety thing. Rule Number Thirteen, never get separated from the people you love. Please don’t ask me to pick sides.”

“Thank you,” Marie says to her alternate self, taking her by the hand affectionately. They smile mildly at each other.

Heath takes note of the tender moment, and then gets back to work.

Twenty minutes later, the job is done. The gravediggers move off to shower at the facilities, returning with the formal clothes they had brought. Heath didn’t have any extra clothes, because he didn’t come knowing that he would help, so the sexton provided him with a spare set of ceremonial robes to keep the dirt and grime covered. Leona was never officialized as a ship captain. She was chosen by the crew at a time when a leader was needed, and accepted by all who have joined the group since. The state would not usually acknowledge such a distinction, but it made an exception after a conversation with a certain U.S. senator. She performs the ceremony in this capacity, so the whole memorial can be kept in the family.

All three siblings speak to their relationship with Trina, but no one else speaks, because they did not know her well enough for that to be appropriate. At the end of the ritual, each attendee tosses a handful of dirt over Trina’s casket. To make up for having to quit earlier, Moray insists on finishing the burial all by himself, determined to stick to it no matter how long it takes. While the others return to the Lofts for the reception, Mateo hangs back so he can drive Moray home later. He gets it done quickly, then Mateo waits for him to take another shower. The reception is nice, and bigger than they thought it was going to be. Heath, Vearden, and Arcadia came with a bunch of food of their own. It’s considered a celebration, but a rather subdued one. They don’t drink and laugh and tell stories, or dance. They mostly listen to the siblings who knew her best, particularly Alyssa, who is able to relate stories she heard during Trina’s final moments. At the end of the day, the outcasts go back to the condo, and everyone else retires to their apartments.

That night, Ramses gets out of bed, and sneaks out of the building. He takes one of the cars, and drives back to the cemetery. He digs up Trina’s grave, steals the body, and then fills it back up exactly as it was, so that no one will notice. He takes Trina’s corpse to their building, and leaves her in a secret refrigerated room in the basement that he never told anyone about, in case he needed to store hazardous materials. When he wakes up the next morning, he has forgotten all about it.

The Advancement of Mateo Matic: July 19, 2398

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Leona got lucky back in the timeline that they used to just call Reality Two. K-State University assigned her a roommate for her first semester in college, which was the spring of 2018. Andile Mhlangu was a year younger, but already a sophomore, having skipped the third and seventh grades. Her former roommate was a night owl partier, who didn’t like how strict Andile was with her schedule. Andile was actually okay with the incongruent living arrangement. She grew up with four siblings, so she knew how to study and sleep amidst a lot of noise, and a little chaos. The old roommate felt bad, though, and got tired of tiptoeing around, so she decided to go live on her own. She reportedly got herself a note from her doctor, claiming to have social anxiety, which is what allowed her to secure a single dorm room, despite having missed the registration deadline by months.

Andile, meanwhile, needed a roommate of her own, or she would have to start paying for a double as a single, which is kind of a bullshit rule that the university shouldn’t have had. Fortunately, Leona was there to fill in after graduating from high school a semester early. The two of them didn’t become great friends, but they got along very well. They kept pretty much the exact same schedule, maintained comparable work loads, and had no use for the noise. They occasionally had dinner together, but didn’t know each other’s secrets, or anything like that. They continued to be roommates for the next three years after that. Andile decided to stay there for grad school, so they moved off campus together. Even then, they weren’t great friends, but Leona didn’t want to risk being assigned someone crappy, and Andile still couldn’t afford to pay full rent anywhere.

After Leona received her bachelor’s degree, she was accepted to grad school in Colorado—once more starting in the spring—so she had too move out of the apartment, but she agreed to pay Andile her half of the rent for the next semester anyway. They remained connected through social media after that, but still from a healthy distance. A few years later, Andile paid back the extra rent, with unnecessary interest, after getting a great job at a prestigious laboratory. Then she disappeared; fell completely off the map. There were two theories: one, that she was abducted or dead, or two, that she was working for the government, or some other clandestine organization. The second option wasn’t all that crazy. She was sure smart enough to be doing something like that, and she was in a good position to be recruited. When Leona became a time traveler in 2028, she theorized that Andile was, in fact, a time traveler as well. It might have been true, but no one she met along the way had heard of her, and the investigation ran cold, especially since she was so busy with her own stuff. Then the timeline reset, and the new version of Leona didn’t even meet Andile in the first place. She hadn’t thought much about her until yesterday when Kivi dropped her name.

Winona was surprised to hear from Leona, and not be yelled at about something, but not surprised when she heard that it was for a favor. Then she was surprised again when she learned that the favor was providing Leona with Andile’s location, but quickly realized that it made sense. Senator Morton locked up Andile for a reason, and while the Honeycutts were apparently not cognizant of everything that Morton knew, it was entirely plausible that her imprisonment was for the same reason as the team’s. There are at least three sides to this war, including Leona’s, the Honeycutts’, and Morton’s. How those two relate to one another remains a mystery that Winona refuses to divulge at this time. That wasn’t good enough for Leona, who demanded something for all the trouble. Winona agreed with this assessment, and was half-prepared to comply with the request to find Andile, but half not. She was reluctant to hand over the information, citing a desire to protect Andile from further disruption of her life. The plan was evidently to get her out of town, much in the way a witness protection agency would. Leona has a hard time believing that.

It’s taken a day, but Winona has finally come through, and now Leona and Mateo are at the safehouse. They open the gate for the really tall front yard fence, and knock on the door not sure what kind of person they’ll find on the other side, or how she’ll react to this development. Mateo ran into Andile once when he came to visit Leona that first semester, but that was well after he started jumping through time, and again, this was in an old reality. Neither of them expects her to recognize either of them, but especially not him.

Andile smiles when she opens the door, as casually as she might if she were expecting a friend, but not for a few hours, once she’s finished cooking a meal. “He told me an old friend would be stopping by.”

“Who told you that?” Leona questions.

“This guy. He called himself a seer.”

That makes a bit of sense, but it doesn’t answer their real question.

“How did you get here? Did the seer tell you how to travel?”

“Let’s talk alone.” Andile pulls her inside gently. She offers them a seat on the couch. “I didn’t believe him when he first approached me, but he started out making simple, yet hard to explain, predictions, so I started to believe. I started to trust him. He didn’t tell me that I would end up in this world—there was a lot he didn’t tell me, in the end—but the last thing he said was, once you’re safe in the brown house, an old friend will be stopping by. The next day, I found myself in this reality, and now I’m sitting in here. It’s brown, wouldn’t you say?”

“You found yourself in this reality...in the year 2398?” Leona asks.

Andile thinks that’s funny. “Oh, no. Noooo. It was 2026, just like it was where we’re from.”

“So how did you get here?” Mateo asks, “Or have you just lived long enough?”

“I only spent a few years there. My friend brought me the rest of the way,” Andile says cryptically. “It wasn’t 370 years, like it was for most people. To us, it was more like 370 days.”

Now that is a surprising response. “Andile, who is your friend?”

Andile hesitates for a moment, but resolves to answer. “Leona, it...it was you.”

Microstory 1887: Feeling Poverty

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Even though I grew up as the son of general store owners, I always felt poor. I think it mostly had to do with the fact that we couldn’t afford the time it would take to enjoy luxuries, like vacations, because someone always had to be at the store. When mom and dad both retired, I took over fulltime, and tried to put my snazzy business degree to good use. We expanded into the empty unit next door to add more shelves, but I never thought to franchise out, or do major advertising campaigns, or anything like that. I just wanted us to be a little more comfortable, and work a little less. I ended up hiring a larger staff than we ever had before, and spent less time there personally. My children weren’t interested in helping out after serving their part time sentences as middle school and high school students, and I didn’t discourage them from pursuing their respective dreams. I ran a clean business. I filed my taxes accurately and on time—or rather I paid the right person to handle it all for me—and I treated my employees fairly. I also kept my prices fairly low; not enough to dry out my profits, but enough to support my community faithfully. Back in the late 1990s, this country suffered a terrible economic depression. Inflation was at an all time high, as was unemployment. Everyone was struggling, including us. But we did okay. I didn’t have to let anyone go, I just had to raise my prices a tiny bit. For some, that tiny bit was as vast as a canyon, and for the very worst off, an untraversable one. People starved to death. My heart went out to them, but I had to protect my own family. Still, I did what I could, instituting promotions where possible, usually when a particular item was in higher than normal supply. Even then, not everyone could afford to buy what they needed to survive.

We had a couple of security cameras by then, but they weren’t exactly HD quality. There were likely a number of instances of theft that went by unnoticed. A box of cereal here, a can of soda there. It happens, and anyone who runs retail just sort of has to accept the risk. One day, during this depression, I was stocking an aisle with canned food when I noticed a misplaced item. People do this all the time when they change their minds, you’ve seen it. All I had to do was hop over to the next aisle over, and reshelve it. I incidentally did this quite quietly, and happened to catch a young woman sticking baby formula inside her stroller, right under her baby’s legs. At that moment, we locked eyes, and she froze like a stunned animal. I recognized her as a regular, and I’m pretty sure she knew that I was the owner, and not just some minimum wage worker. All of those were on the younger side of the spectrum. I didn’t know what to say as we stared at each other, so I ended up not saying anything. I cleared my throat, shelved the item in its place, and walked away. I don’t know what was going through her head, but she probably had her own internal debate about what to do. In the end, she left with what she needed, and only actually paid for a carton of milk. Years later, she returned to my store in tears. I had seen her many times since the incident, and we never spoke of it, so I’m not sure what had changed, but she wanted to apologize. She wasn’t the real mother. She was actually the sister, and their mother had died, which was why she wasn’t producing breast milk. I told her it didn’t matter. The kid needed food, the kid got food; end of story, no apology necessary. I wasn’t able to help much during the depression, but I was able to help this one person on that one day. I guess it will have to do.

Microstory 1862: Full Sets

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It wasn’t that big of a deal when I got started. Back then, we only had three channels, right? So people had to find other ways to entertain themselves. I mean, that sounds like people wished there could be more channels, so they wouldn’t be so bored all the time, but obviously no one was really thinking about that. They took up hobbies that people before them had done. Maybe it was the same old, same old, or maybe it was updated, but nothing is ever really new. It’s always just some kind of new sort of way of doing something that we’ve always done. I got really into collecting things. Our parents traveled a lot, leaving us to be raised mostly by my uncles. It wasn’t weird in those times for rich people to place their children in the hands of others. They didn’t want me and my siblings to get in the way, so we never went with them. Even once we were older, and didn’t need constant attention, we didn’t go on family vacations. In retrospect, my parents were kind of assholes. They were the ones who sent me down the path towards my dark and inescapable habits. They thought they were great, and it was true, we were so excited to see them whenever they finally did show up that we accepted whatever we could get. Ancient Greek coins? Parisian stamps? I’ll take ‘em. A magazine in a language I’ve never heard of, and will never be able to read? Yes, please. Toys, toys, and more toys; sign me up, please and thank you. We loved all the gifts, because they were coming from them, but we would have rather they had just been around more. I wish they could have raised me right, but I doubt they would have done a better job. That brings us to where we are today. My siblings ended up okay, but I never recovered. I took those coins, and those stamps, and those novelty toys, and based my life around them. I began to collect on my own, and like I was saying, it wasn’t a problem until it was a problem.

The word you’re looking for is hoarder. Some people become as such by not being able to get rid of things. They don’t deliberately order magazines just to stack them. They subscribe to a given periodical, and then just keep each one. I’m not like that. I am a discerning hoarder. I have a very particular compulsion. I don’t just want a whole bunch of cats, or even a whole bunch of dead cats. I want sets. I want every size of every color of a given series of highly absorbent towels. I want one of every item in a line of kitchenware from a certain brand. I don’t buy junk at random, and drop it all somewhere in my house. Each one has to belong, so I end up with a comprehensive—and truthfully, beautiful—collection to put on display. Because that’s the whole point, to showcase my collections to others. It’s not my fault that I don’t have a big enough place to do it right. If I lived in a mansion, you wouldn’t think any of this was weird. No, you would walk into my classic English literature room, and see my copy of Tarmides of Egypt, as well as all of his other works, along with his contemporaries. That’s what belongs there. And there’s a room for the stamps, and one for sports balls, and another for a generic license plate from every single unique region in the world, and so on, and so forth. That last one has always been my dream, I don’t actually have a complete set. If I did, I wouldn’t have the space for it, because I can’t afford that mansion. My parents were the ones who were rich, not me. So here I am in my wee little flat, where I look like a crazy person who’s oblivious to the state of her world. Whatever, my great-niece was telling me about haters, and that’s all people are. I regret nothing.

The Advancement of Mateo Matic: March 30, 2388

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“So, this is a retcon,” Leona figured, totally unimpressed—bored even. “We were told that The Artist built three Preston children, but in fact, there was a fourth. You must have been so evil that the others never talk about you, and blah, blah, blah.”

Mithridates chuckled. “No. I wasn’t built, I was born. You think my parents spent centuries not having any children? I mean, even if they weren’t trying, having at least one kid eventually would have been practically inevitable. They don’t talk about me, not because I was too evil—because we’re all evil—but because they were just ashamed that I left the Gallery Dimensions with the rest of the disgruntled workers, instead of sticking by my family.”

“I see.”

“Besides, as far as I can tell, they so didn’t talk about me, that not even my brother and sisters know that I exist.”

Leona sighed, still bored. “Are you gonna...do your speech?”

“My villain speech where I reveal my dastardly plans?”

“Yeah, that one.”

Mithridates smirked. “Don’t have one.”

“You don’t have a speech, er...?”

“Don’t have a plan.” He started pacing somewhat menacingly. “Have you wondered why I’m bringing all of the star systems together, or why I’m taking so long to do it?”

“We’ve noticed it doesn’t make much sense.”

He shrugged. “It doesn’t have to. It’s cra-zy.” With these words, he bobbled his head around, rolled his eyes, and spun his finger around his temple. “The plan is to make everybody think I have a plan.”

“Okay, so no plan, but what’s the objective?”

“To make everybody think I have an objective!” He was so pleased with himself for having come up with a gigantic waste of time.

“Oh, Jesus Christ.”

“It’s pronounced Mithridates,” he countered. “You can call me Mithri, though.”

Leona didn’t want to end up in another battle royale with yet another antagonist. The bad guys always lost, but the team always lost a lot along the way, and she was disinterested in seeing that happen again. If the best option was to jump over all of this, and just move on to the plan to return to the main sequence, that was what she would do. “Look, I’m sure you’re quite happy with—” She stopped talking when she noticed that all the holography was back. The water, the tiny island, the hut; they had all returned. The sky was just a regular blue with one sun, but everything else looked as it did before Mithri dropped the illusion. Baudin’s faux son wasn’t around, though.

Mithri was wearing the same female avatar as before, but she was clothed now. He was walking out of the hut. “Oh, you’re back.”

“Where did I go?” Leona asked, pretty sure she knew the answer to that question.

Mithri checked his watch. “Nowhere. You just disappeared exactly one Earthan year ago. Imagine that.”

She reached over, and desperately tapped on her Cassidy cuff. It was off. It was never off. Something was very wrong.

“Oh, yeah, that technology won’t work here.”

She looked back towards the tooth mountain, in the general direction of the Suadona.

“That technology is fine. Your friends are fine. I’m sure they’ve just been hanging out all year, wondering why you’ve not checked up on them.”

“How do you know so much about us? You didn’t ask me my name, or anything.”

“This.” Mithri grabbed a crystal tablet from a little table. He tapped on it, and presented it to her. She could see a website on the screen, which appeared to be a blog of some kind. The top entry read Extremus: Year 38.

“What is it?”

“It’s the Superintendent’s. This is how he tries to get people to read his shit. Nobody does, of course. Well, not in his universe. The sad irony is that thousands read it in this reality, and billions more in other self-aware universes. Unfortunately, he doesn’t earn page impressions from us. It’s just a mirrored site. You could even call it a quantum mirror?”

“So everything we’ve ever done, you already know.”

“No, not everything. Just what he writes about, and I don’t know how accurate it is. It hasn’t exactly been fact-checked.”

“What are you going to do with me and my friends?”

Mithri yawned deeply. “Nothing. I’ve read enough to know that you’re a non-threat.”

“How do you figure? We’ve fought against a lot of people, and we always win...in the end. Some of them even became our friends.”

“I know, and those enemies of yours have one thing in common.”

She didn’t prompt him to continue. He was going to on his own.

He smiled, recognizing her attempt to take some level of control. “They all tried to defeat you. You were right, when someone fights you, they lose, so all I have to do is not fight. Ya know, there’s this saying in your reality; you miss a hundred percent of the shots you don’t take. This sounds right, but it’s not. You miss zero percent of the shots you don’t take. I mean, can you imagine not running for president of the United States, and then being criticized for not being the president of the United States? That’s so stupid. You should only take the shots you think you might make, and also want to make. I’m not saying you shouldn’t try, or shouldn’t challenge yourself, but come on! You and your team are a behemoth, but an underdog at the same time. I’m not going there. So you tell me what you want me to do, and I’ll just do it, because I don’t care.”

“Because you’re an agent of chaos,” Leona put forth.

“I’m an agent of confusion. Which means, if you stop asking me to do anything I’m doing, it will maintain the status quo, because the status quo is there is no status quo. I can’t lose! It doesn’t matter what you say.”

This sounded like one of those stories where the hero runs into a genocidal artificial intelligence, and the only way to stop it is to force it into some kind of logical paradox. There was an answer that Mithridates didn’t want to hear, and she had to figure out what that could be. What would cause him to lose?

He could see the gears turning in her head. “You’re hunting for a loophole, but I assure you, it doesn’t exist.”

“What if I ask you to kill yourself?” She didn’t really want him to do that, but she needed him to illuminate the boundaries, so she could start with a decent frame of reference.

He shook his head like it was no big deal. He approached his hut, where a relatively sharp bamboo pole was sticking a little too far out. With little hesitation, he shoved himself forward, and let it dig into his neck. Blood dripped down to the sand, followed by the rest of the body. After Leona knelt down to check for a pulse, which she didn’t find, a figure started walking towards her from the mountain. It was Mithri in his own form.

“Was that real, or an illusion?”

“This is like a holodeck,” he explained. “The objects aren’t real, per se, but they are physical, and that body really died. I have mind uploading technology, just like you do. Anything else?”

“Don’t ever hurt anyone ever again.”

He crossed his arms, and looked to the sky as he pondered the demand. “That is a loophole,” he finally decided. “Yeah, I can’t do that one.”

“Because you just like it too much.”

“No, because it’s impossible. I mean, think about someone you love. Mateo, your parents; whoever. You didn’t wanna hurt them, but you did, on a number of occasions. You dated the wrong boy, or you failed a math test. That’s not killing them, or punching them in the face, but it did hurt them. Just because they forgave you for these things, doesn’t mean that pain could be undone. No one can live their life painfree.”

“Fair enough,” Leona agreed.

“I suppose you just need to figure out what you want. If you tell me your objective, I’ll come up with the plan.”

She had to laugh at this, but it did give her the idea she needed. “I want you to become an agent of peace in this reality.”

Now he was laughing. It went on a little too long, actually. He literally slapped his knee. “Have it your way, Mrs. Matic. I’ll become an agent of peace. You’ll pardon me for having to take some time to figure out what that means.” He laughed some more.

She closed her eyes, and tilted her head down respectfully.

“Now it’s my turn.”

“What?”

“Oh, this was a back and forth. You asked me for something, so now I get to ask for something. What, did you think it was gonna be unfair?”

She sighed. “I should have seen this coming, but you should have warned me.”

“You hadn’t asked me to become an agent of peace yet. I was still an agent of confusion, so I didn’t tell you, because that’s confusing.”

“Whatever, Mithri. Get on with it. I’m sure you already have your idea.”

“Two ideas,” he contended. “You asked me to do two things.”

“No, I asked you to do one thing. I asked for a response to a hypothetical about killing yourself. I never actually said to kill yourself.”

He thought about this for a moment. “I’ll allow it. You’re a smart one.”

“I have three timelines of experience to draw upon,” she said.

“I have more than that. What you asked me to do is very complicated, and it’s not going to come without its mistakes. I’m sure you expect something similar from me, but what I’ve learned over the tens of thousands of years is that sometimes simple is best. So I’m not going to ask you to do anything crazy. It’s even going to be something that you weren’t going to do anyway.”

“Just say it.”

“Kill yourself, and immediately transfer your consciousness to the upgraded organic substrate that Ramses engineered for you.”

“It’s not ready yet. She’s only twelve.”

“Yeah, that’s the joke. I thought you were smart.”

“I thought you were an agent of peace. Death isn’t peace.”

He shrugged. “Grace period.”

She frowned, now looking for a different loophole. There didn’t seem to be anything to that. He specified which substrate, so she couldn’t use some android body while she waited for the body to finish developing.

“I’ll give you one alternative.”

“What’s that?” It was probably going to be something even worse.

“Either start using your own new body right now, or make the rest of your team transfer to their own new organic substrates within the year. That will give me enough time to figure out what you even mean by peace. I’m not confident I have the right definition in mind, since I’ve never done it before.”

That was probably better, not worse. They would all be fifteen by that point, which would almost make them look like adults. The prenatal growth hormones and antibodies that they were currently floating in was the only stuff capable of accelerating their aging safely, and without side effects. It wasn’t something they could just inject into themselves afterwards. If they wanted to age after the transfer process was complete, they would need someone’s time powers. The team would surely understand that this was better than her being stuck as a twelve-year-old. Still, they had a right to know. “Let me speak with them first.”

“You can talk all you want, but the timer has already begun. If you jump to the future, or leave this planet in your ship—which will restore function to your Cassidy cuff—then you’ll have no choice but to switch to the alternative. Either you’re a twelve-year-old by the end of the day, or they’re fifteen by the end of the year.”

So Leona began to run. She wanted as much time as possible to figure this out. “It was nice meeting you, Mithri!” she called back, recalling Leona’s Rules of Time Travel number fifteen, don’t antagonize the antagonist.

“It was nice meeting you too!” he replied.

Leona hooked herself up to the computer, and entered the simulation. Her friends were all there. They looked relieved to finally see her. She explained the situation to them.

“Why can’t we just run?” Olimpia asked.

“I don’t know what he’ll do,” Leona replied. “He may just void the deal, but he may come after us.”

“The answer is obvious,” Angela said. “Just transfer us. We can be fifteen, that’s fine. It’s late enough in the timeline that people will understand.”

“Wait, Ramses, can’t you do something about this?” Marie asked.

“Can I accelerate growth after birth?” Ramses assumed. “With some time, yeah, probably. I didn’t invent this technology. I stand on the shoulders of giants, and none of them ever invented forward aging treatment, because it could be used as a weapon, and not much else.”

Leona nodded. “Mateo, you’ve been quiet.”

“Angela’s right, the answer is obvious. He didn’t tell you that you can transfer your mind to another body. He said you had to kill yourself to do it. I’m not okay with that. What we experienced was awful...necessary, but awful. You managed to avoid it, and I would like to keep it that way.”

This was true. They all died to end up here, and she never had to go through the same trauma; at least not for a while. All things being equal, that was the difference, so by the end of the day, Leona’s most recent body was dead, and she looked as she did when she was twelve.

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Microstory 1695: A Whole New Meaning to Omega Male

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Most of the time, The Omega Gyroscope makes big changes to reality. It causes the global population to go back in time, or alters their perception of it. Or it instantly switches everything to a new timeline. Some of the time, however, it makes small changes, and it all has to do with the person wielding it. The Gyroscope is basically a wish fulfillment device, which reads its user’s mind, and makes changes to the universe in whatever way it’s capable of, getting as close to the user’s desires as possible. It’s not really trying to do that. It’s not really trying to do anything. Some people are just better at forming a psychic connection with it, and it accepts this input like a computer. That’s all it is, a very fancy and advanced computer with no buttons or monitor. The results of a user’s desires are often not what they truly wanted, but not because of a be careful what you wish for aphorism. It’s more that the Gyroscope has its limitations, and can’t just do whatever you want. Before the little powerful device ended up in the museum, where it would later be used by a number of people, it was discovered in an attic by three adult children who were cleaning out their father’s house after he passed. Since the Omega Gyroscope is so small and seemingly innocuous, the three of them thought little of it. They just threw it in a shoebox, and focused on the rest of his effects. It was only later when one of them, bored at the estate sale, idly spun it. At the time, she was thinking about her father, and how she wished he had never died. Apparently, the Gyroscope interpreted that to also mean that he wouldn’t ever die, even in the future.

The daughter stayed in her seat for the next hour or so before realizing that something had changed. The sale was still on, and she was still in charge of handling the money, but it was no longer an estate sale. It was just a regular garage sale. Evidently, in this new reality, the four of them decided to clean out the father’s house anyway, and sell what they could before donating the rest. He was still very much alive, and just as she was noticing that the sign by the street was different, he was returning from having helped transport his kayak to its new owner. Only she seemed to remember that he had died in the other reality, but by then, there was no way for her to make the connection that the Gyroscope had had anything to do with it. She didn’t even consider it as a possibility. She also didn’t try to explain what she could remember to the others. She kept her mouth shut, and decided to be grateful for the gift, no matter what had actually caused it, be it her magical powers, or simply a welcome relief to a bad dream. Since she didn’t know that the Omega Gyroscope was responsible for the gift, she let the thing be donated to an antique store, where it would one day be found by the curator of a museum. For the next ten years, the daughter watched her and her siblings continue to age while their father stayed the same. No one could explain it, and it was eventually decided it was best that they keep him a secret. Other people would start asking questions. What would happen in the next ten years, or the next hundred? They didn’t know if there was a limit to it, so they all moved, and started a new semi-anonymous life in a new city. Their intention was to move again, and start referring to him as their brother. Before this was necessary, the Omega Gyroscope precipitated a major global phenomenon, which saw the entire human population sent back in time to their younger bodies, and father and daughter would find themselves at the center of the action.