Sic Transit...Pueritia (Part V)

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The Transit pierced the membrane, and crossed through to the other side without an issue, but they couldn’t go straight to their destination. Hyperdimensional physics is too complicated to fathom for most people, but thinking in terms of a bunch of universes floating in a vat is good enough for analogy’s sake. Looking at it this way, it’s easy to see that some branes are close to each other, and others are not. Meliora, Limerick, and Treasure can only travel to nearby branes. If they tried to go further, they would probably die in the equilibrium of the outer bulkverse. It is not a hospitable environment, and since there would be nothing protecting them, they wouldn’t last long enough to reach another membrane. Zoey Attar is different in that she wears a special suit that keeps her alive, but the further she wants to travel, the longer it will take. She’s still a little limited, because she can’t get up and move around while she waits. Fortunately, time in the outer bulkverse does not pass the same way it does inside of any given universe. Again, hyperdimensional physics. It does still pass, but people don’t age, and their bodies metabolize chemicals much slower. All that being said, according to clocks inside the ship, about five days passed before they were at the pit stop.

“This universe doesn’t have a name,” Azura started to explain just before they pierced the second membrane. “All I know is that its human inhabitants successfully made it through their Great Filter. Barring Ochivari invasion, they would be virtually impossible to destroy as they have now spread out across their galaxy. Their proper physics are reminiscent of what you might find in the Composite Universe, or your home, Universum Originalis.”

“What’s proper physics?” Gamma asked. “Isn’t all physics proper? Or am I translating that word wrong?”

“Proper physics refers to the set of physical laws specific to a given universe. Some laws are multiversal, like the fact that light moves faster than sound, or temperature usually flows spontaneously from hot to cold. Others can change. Not everyone has plex dimensions that they can use for interstellar travel. Treasure’s mother’s brane doesn’t. Her father’s has a bizarrely slow form of it. This universe has it at full efficiency.” She turned to watch the show. They broke through the barrier, and started flying through the air of whatever planet they were now on. Azura switched on the viewscreens, so they could see the trees before them, and a city off in the middle distance. They were pretty low to the ground. “And they use it well.”

Apparently through an automated subroutine, the Transit’s horn blared for presumably the entire frickin’ solar system to hear. Treasure wasn’t sure why the Maramon would want to announce their arrival, but it confirmed that its shape was no coincidence. They really did design it to be a space train. As they were slowing down to come to a stop, the viewports finally became transparent, and showed them the outside. They saw people stopped on a highway, watching this alien vessel fly by. As they slowed down more, they could make out faces of people who were surprised, but not frightened. They didn’t know this was coming, but they weren’t too worried about it.

Just as planned, they stopped at the entrance to an architectural marvel. It wasn’t designed with any practicality in mind, but to mostly be a giant art piece that people could walk in. If Treasure had to use one word to describe it, she would probably go with palace. As they were exiting the ship, guardsmen filed out, and took position up and down the steps. A woman in fancy attire stepped outside, and walked forward with a strong air of authority.

Azura approached her as nonaggressively as possible. She spoke into Olkan’s tiara, which could evidently amplify sound as well as translate thoughts. “Oh, Wise Leader, we come to you, tails between legs, hearts on sleeves, and as honest as the sun. We were marooned on a foreign world, with only enough energy to make one final jump. We chose to come to you, hoping that you should see fit to aid us in our attempt to return home. We require multiple advanced energy source replacements, and will do anything you ask as payment.”

The leader walked up to a microphone as the lectern rose up from a trap door. She cleared her throat. “We are cognizant of The Transit, and its purpose. And we understand the nonlinear nature of adjusted time. Is this the origin of The Transit Army?”

“We do not know,” Azura replied. “Our current plan is to return home. As for what happens to this vessel after that, we could be part of it, or we might not. We too know what becomes of it, but we are unaware of our level of involvement. Myself and this one here are the most likely to stay on board, we admit.” She indicated Treasure.

The leader chuckled once. “I would like to speak with Miss Hawthorne alone. The rest of you will be escorted to visitor housing.”

Azura didn’t see this coming, and didn’t like to be left out, but she kept her composure, and remained respectful. She nodded, and started to walk away.

“But first,” the leader stopped her, “please give her back her tiara. Her bare head makes me uncomfortable.” That was weird.

“Your future is in their past.” Azura placed the tiara in Treasure’s hand, but didn’t let go right away. “Be careful what you let them tell you. Causality breaks down when you travel the bulk.”

Treasure remembered the warning as she was following the leader into the palace, Quino right at her flank.

“No, no, no,” the leader argued. “Just her.”

“I am her bodyguard,” Quino defied. “She goes, I go.” That wasn’t the truth, but it was probably a good idea, seeing as that Treasure avoided combat training as she was growing up. They made it available to her, if she wanted it, but she never did. She wasn’t a pacifist, but she wasn’t a fighter either.

“Very well.”

“Thank you for the invitation, Wise Leader,” Treasure said once they were in the office, hoping it was the right and polite thing to say. “We appreciate it.”

The leader closed her eyes gently, and nodded slightly. “I am Principa Hoyvanen, and I knew you when I was a little girl. You never told me that I would become Principa one day. You acted like our meeting was an accident, and could have happened to anyone.”

“Perhaps it was,” Treasure acknowledged. “And perhaps, we shouldn’t be talking about this. It could be dangerous.”

Principa Hoyvanen dismissed this. “Have no fear, it is a stable time loop. I’m not telling you anything you don’t already know. I’m only here to bring the truth to the surface of your consciousness. That tiara you wear, the man who once owned it no longer needs it. He speaks all the languages he’ll ever need. It is yours now, and you will need it. As you’ve learned, every time you speak, you release a little bit of bulk energy. It disperses from there, spread so thin that it cannot be used. In order to conserve this energy, you must silence yourself. The less you speak, the less you lose, the more you have to power your trips. It is almost worthy of a song.”

“How does the tiara help me with that?” Treasure asked

“It can boost this energy. Well, that’s not the word you used. It was...”

“Sharpen,” Treasure guessed. That was the word she would have used, had she figured all this out herself.

“Yes, sharpen,” the Principa echoed. “It doesn’t let you make any more energy than is already there, but it helps you focus. When you scream, and release all that bulk energy, some of it goes into opening a portal, and delivering you to your destination. Some of it is wasted. The tiara cuts down on that waste. It’ll help you only release as much energy as you need to reach your destination. You’ll still need to learn to control it better, but you will. I know it as fact.”

“Well, thank you. However, that can get me home. You say nothing of The Transit.”

“The Transit is not my problem.” Hoyvanen gestured around her in general. “We have found harmony with our world. The Ochivari will not attack us. When you are ready, you will transport these people back to their respective homes, and then you will move on with your lives.”

“The Transit then stays here.” Treasure realized this was what the people of this world wanted all along.

“Do not concern yourself with the Transit,” she said, hoping her position as leader would prevent Treasure from questioning any further.

Treasure was sixteen Earth years old. She was not quite an adult, and still had a lot to learn about the worlds. She thought she was ready to go out, and make her own choices. She came to the realization while she was brooding in her train car alone that this was the wrong call. She should have trusted her parents, and surrendered to the process. None of that could be undone now, though, and she had no other choice but to act like the adult she once thought she was. This Wise Leader was the ruler of a foreign world, and while she deserved respect, she was not Treasure’s ruler, and she didn’t have to do what she said. “Azura lays claim to it. My mother was seeking it. And I control it. I can leave here right now, with all my crew, and go find another world that will provide us with the tools it needs to keep going. It doesn’t actually need these tools, however, as long as it has me. I won’t leave it behind until I’m sure it can run independently, and that it’s in the right hands. I do not believe yours are those hands.”

“That may be,” Hoyvanen began, “but this is my world, and I am holding all the cards.”

“I have a few cards myself,” Quino revealed. “It’s already been programmed to deliver you to your evacuation planet. The trip will be short.” He removed a sort of kazoo-lookin’ thing from his breast pocket, and slammed it on the ground. An orange light shot out from the larger opening, and overwhelmed Hoyvanen and the two guardsmen behind her. In a flash, they were gone, along with every object and piece of furniture that was on that side of the room. He lifted his wrist, and spoke into his communicator, “Badjob, fall back.” He then took Treasure by the hand, and escorted her out. He didn’t rush, or look panicked. The guards they passed had no idea that their ruler had just been spirited away to another planet, so they just assumed the conversation was over, and the two visitors were on their way somewhere else.

Once they were outside, they moved a little quicker, worried that someone would start to get wise before they retreated into the Transit. Azura and the Verteans were coming out of visitor housing, and on an intercept course. Two of them were carrying something that looked pretty heavy, but it was covered with a tarp. This was what aroused suspicion. The guards took offensive positions, and sought out orders from their superiors. They were too late, though. The crew made it into their ship, and closed the doors before anyone could fire a single shot.

“Problem,” Treasure said simply once they were all safe inside.

“You’ve been talking too much,” Azura guessed. “You don’t have enough bulk energy to get us out of here.

“Based on what little experience I have with this,” Treasure said, “I don’t think so. I could probably get all of us out of this universe, but not the whole Transit. Kind of the whole reason we have to bail is because the Principa was hoping to steal it, so I feel like it would be counterproductive to leave it behind.”

“We’re not doing that,” Azura agreed. “This thing is far too important to hand it over to just one brane. It’s destined to save all of humanity, and the only two people I can confidently say will work towards that goal are myself, and your mother.”

“Can they break through?” Hadron questioned. “Is the bulkhead strong enough to withstand their attacks?”

“Over a prolonged period of time?” Azura assumed. “Probably not. It’s strong, it’s powerful, but it’s not impregnable. They’ll find its weakest spot, and once they’re in, they’re in.”

“Will this help?” Gamma asked as she and Alluvia removed the tarp from the object they stole. Treasure had no idea what it was.

“Fusion reactor.” Azura gave it a quick inspection.

“Take it to Onboard Weapons. “Hopefully we’ll deter retaliation until Treasure is ready to take us out of here. Speaking of which.” She turned to face her.

Treasure mimed zipping her lips shut, and locking them up.

“Good girl. Breathe, though. I think breathing will help. Don’t power up weapons!” Azura called over to the ones taking the fusion reactor away. “I don’t want to make the first move, just get it connected!”

Breathing did help, as Azura predicted, but it wasn’t nearly enough. She had just been talking too much, and it was gonna get them killed. The guardsmen fired the first shot, and while they were frightened by the Transit’s onboard weapons system, they held their ground, and strategized. If Treasure was going to get them out of here before a hull breach, she needed to accelerate the absorption of bulk energy that her body could accept. Her instinct was telling her to cut herself. It was like the opposite of bloodletting, or trepanation. Instead of wanting something out, she wanted to let more of something in, and honestly, if felt amazing. If she wasn’t careful, she could probably become addicted to it.

< > Entire Story

Exemption Act: Critical Existence Failure (Part V)

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The team spent over a standard month in the Composite Universe, which was closer to six weeks in Earthan terms. The natives measured time differently. They learned a lot of things from these people while they were there, eventually figuring out that a nayko was equal to 2.442 kilometers. There was no Earth in this universe, but there were plenty of humans. Nearly all of them spoke English—though they did not call it that—and while they were genetically incompatible with people from other universes, they were indistinguishable in most cases. In a more taboo sense, men did not have scrota, so there were ways to tell the difference without a DNA test.

The information they gave Bellevue was invaluable to them, so much so that they agreed to give the team anything they wanted. Khuweka possessed a lot of knowledge about the Maramon, and their tactics, and Landis regaled them with fascinating tales of the voldisil. They even found Andraste’s input incredibly useful. People from her Earth were well known to the people in this universe, and they were decidedly off-limits. It was like the Prime Directive, except it only applied to this one planet. The chance to speak with one was a great honor to them, and they did not take it for granted. Earthan input was highly coveted on its own merits, as they had a completely different perspective, especially when it came to philosophy and psychology. Drug addiction was practically non-existent here, but not completely. Understanding how to help the few addicts they did have was something they had been struggling with for millennia.

Freya felt pretty useless here, as she had little to contribute. Her entire reason for being on the team was to help them navigate her universe. Not only was that probably not all that necessary at all, but it certainly didn’t help here. Faster-than-light travel was ubiquitous in the galaxy, except for the planet they were on right now, and even they were nearing these technological capabilities as well. Freya was able to give her insights about the Maramon, having spent time studying their descendants, the Gondilak, but that wasn’t much. Hopefully it was still useful information, however, because it illustrated an emphasis on nurture against nature, and suggested Maramon were the way they were by how they were raised; not by some inherent evil that was impossible to be rid of. Bellevue didn’t seem too bothered by how little Freya helped, but she did what she could, including a lot of grunt work when it came to hauling the retrofits back to salmonverse.

Bellevue gave them more than the power-enhancement platform, and the promises Zektene’s oncoming drug experiment. They retrofitted The Sharice Davids with its very own Nexus, which they could use to transport themselves to anywhere in the network. They also installed something called an astral collimator, which would allow them to enter their version of FTL known as the orange plex dimension. It would probably do nothing for them in salmonverse—or any other universe, for that matter—but it was nice to know it was there. They enhanced the Sharice’s capabilities with gravity transfunctioners, smaller transport ships with their own collimators, and they finally got the pocket dimension generators working, which were already there, but not yet in working order. It would seem Bellevue was even more advanced than they let on. They were ready to explore the galaxy, they simply hadn’t done much of it yet.

They had to travel back and forth from this universe to theirs a few times to transport everything through, so Limerick managed to get a lot of punching practice in. He was exhausted by the time it was over, but also a pro now. There was only one thing left to do. While all of this was happening, Zek was undergoing a battery of tests, first to prove she really was an anomaly, and then so they could tailor the ability-enhancing drug called Aukan to her physiology. They warned her of the risks, including unforeseen side effects, and she agreed to take the drug anyway. It was for a good cause, and she decided it was worth it.

They gathered in the infirmary, at Zek’s request, and watched as the doctor injected her with the substance. He explained it while it was still working her way through her system. “We have been working on this compound for decades. It comes from an old drug program a rogue group of scientists came up with that was dangerous and volatile. We’ve managed to correct their mistakes since then, and Savitri has helped us immensely.” Evidently, Khuweka and Savitri were part of a group of people who had lost their time powers while they were just trying to help other people who wanted to be rid of theirs. They went off on a quest to try to get them back, but the process was interrupted, and they all ended up just sharing each other’s powers. Soon thereafter, they were stranded in separate universes, and some, like Savitri, lived there without the others for centuries.

Zek reported a deep but dull pain throughout her entire body. While a nurse for a time traveling doctor named Sarka, Freya once got hurt herself, and was given narcotics. She recalled feeling heavy and stiff, and believed she could detect the blood moving throughout her body. This was what it looked like for Zek. It was surreal and uncomfortable, but at least not excruciating. Then it got excruciating. She started writhing and screaming, and the medical team had to hold her down. Landis tried to help, but they fiercely rejected his interference. There was no telling what would happen if their completely different kinds of powers interacted with each other. Zek turned blue, and not lack of oxygen blue, but a bright and glowing blue. Electricity surged around her skin, which was what her version of teleportation looked like, but only when she was in her home universe. It wasn’t supposed to last this long, or be painful. She just kept tossing and turning, and glowing brighter.

The blue light escaped from her body, and lit up the whole room. Then the room disappeared. It didn’t blink out of existence, but slid away rapidly, like they were on an extremely fast people mover at an airport. They were outside the hotel headquarters, and then they were across town, and then the state, and then the country. They flew across the ocean, through all the lands on the other side. More ocean, more lands, more ocean, more lands. They just kept circling the globe, randomly changing directions, sometimes going straight through the planet, and back out the other side. They appeared to be on the moon at one point too. They were falling and flying and being shot out of a cannon. Finally they stopped being able to see the world altogether, and were immersed in a sea of electric blue. It was hard to tell if they were still moving, or static. Zektene finally stopped thrashing about, though she appeared to still be in a little pain.

“Where the hell are we?” Freya demanded to know.

“This is an astral plane; the blue one,” the doctor explained.

“This is how she teleports in her universe,” Khuweka clarified. “She doesn’t just jump from one point to another. She falls through a simplex dimension.” No sooner did she say that did the lights turned from blue to a purplish blue.

“Okay, that’s weird,” the doctor noted. “Now we’re in the indigo astral plane.”

“One step lower than blue,” Khuweka added. “You can’t travel as far.”

The colors changed again, to full on purple.

“Okay, that’s bad,” the doctor said. “But we’ll be fine as long as it doesn’t turn black.”

Everything turned black; a hopeless void of busy nothingness. No one was talking anymore, but Freya still knew what they were thinking, like they were all communicating telepathically now. Zek started screaming again, but tapered off, not out of relief, but a lack of air. They sounded like the life was being choked out of her, and she couldn’t move. Freya couldn’t move either. She didn’t have a body anymore, just a noncorporeal mind. She couldn’t help. She couldn’t save Zek. All she could do was listen to her friend’s last thoughts as the space around her crushed her into a single point. Ten seconds later, the lights turned on, and they were back in the infirmary. Zek was gone, replaced by the largest diamond Freya had ever seen. You would need two arms to lift it up, even for a really strong person. You just couldn’t wrap your fingers around it with one hand.

“What happened to her?” Andraste wasn’t used to being so angry.

The doctor and her team looked ashamed and scared. She took off her stethoscope, and placed it on the diamond.

“What the hell are you doing?” Limerick questioned.

The doctor placed her palm on the diamond now. A few seconds later, she released. “It’s her.”

“What do you mean, it’s her?” Even Khuweka was lost.

The doctor sighed, distraught. She was trying to work through the problem. “This is like the virus, but they cured that years ago.” She stopped a moment, but didn’t wait long enough for anyone to press her for more information. “The drug this was based off of, it worked. It worked fine. It enhanced the anomaly abilities, sometimes even giving them related, but new, abilities. It had side effects, though, eventually causing the anomaly’s abilities to turn on them. Milo could no longer control magnets, but became helplessly magnetic. Diane, who once controlled fire, exploded. A few people experienced something called critical existence failure, which is worse than it probably even sounds. This was all before my time, I’ve just read the reports. They fixed that. They promised me they fixed it. This wasn’t supposed to happen. They used Aukan-6, this is Aukan-11.”

“Answer her question. Clarify what you meant when you said it’s her,” Freya demanded.

“Put your hand on the diamond.” The doctor took Freya by the wrist, and gently placed her hand on one face of the diamond.

“Freya?” came Zek’s voice. It wasn’t coming from outside, but inside Freya’s head. This was a psychic connection.

“You’re alive?” Freya questioned, both grateful for it, but horrified that her friend was now somehow trapped inside a gemstone.

“My consciousness has survived. As for whether I’m alive, I could not answer that question.”

“She’s in the diamond?” Freya asked the doctor.

“She has been turned into the diamond,” the doctor corrected. “Forced that way by the incalculable pressure from the black astral plane. It’s like being a one-dimensional object, I’m surprised the rest of us survived. We must have enjoyed a persistent connection with the higher dimensions.”

“I’m not enjoying this,” Limerick contended.

“Can it be reversed?” Carbrey suggested.

“It cannot,” the doctor apologized. “I am...” she trailed off.

“Landis,” Andraste prompted.

Landis had been waiting for someone to ask him to do his thing. “I’m obviously going to try. You cannot, however, get your hopes up. What’s happened to her is nothing like I’ve seen before, but it is not unlike being cremated. People have asked me to repair their cremated loved ones before, and I haven’t had any bit of luck. I don’t bring people back to life. I just heal them. At some point, they’re beyond my gifts. I would say being transformed into a diamond goes far beyond that point of no return.”

Freya presented him with the Zek-diamond. He stepped forward, and placed his hand on her so they could have some private conversation. Then he leaned over, and breathed upon the stone. Nothing happened, nothing changed. It didn’t even sort of almost begin to work, or even moderately illustrate that he had any kind of supernatural gift at all. The rock just sat there. Zek wasn’t gone, but she would never be the same.

< > Entire Story

The Advancement of Mateo Matic: August 7, 2153

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At the moment, Mateo was sitting on the floor, up against the wall. Lincoln, Kivi, and Darko were there too, along with The Weaver, and Porter. The latter would provide them with anything they needed, and some other things that just made this whole ordeal easier. Her power, and drive to help, seemed to have no bounds. While the rest of them were working the problem, she used her ability to apport objects to fill up the building. Everyone had their own bedroom and bathroom, complete with running water, and electricity. There were common areas, entertainment centers, laundry services, a kitchen, and anything else a home would have. The lab itself was full of diagnostic equipment, electronics, soldering tools, and a ton of other junk that never really amounted to anything. They were hours away from the deadline, and though they had made some progress on the task, they didn’t know if they could make it in time.

Arcadia was requiring them to build a map of time and space. Lincoln Rutherford had the ability to navigate this map in his head, but now she wanted an actual piece of paper that could be used by anyone; namely her. Weaver generally had the ability to transfer other people’s abilities to objects, but this particular one was proving profoundly difficult. They had a map of sorts now, which was good, but it wasn’t near enough complete. Weaver drew upon the power of the time mirror Leona had found on this island years ago, but that could only show one thing at a time, rather than the entire system. They called upon Juan Ponce de León so they could borrow the Compass of Disturbance. It took him awhile to arrive, and even longer to be convinced to help them. He was a generous man, but that was asking a lot. Weaver had to take his most prized possession apart and figure out how it worked. If she couldn’t put it back together right, he would feel a great loss.

In the end, the map was proving itself capable of showing them some things in time and space, but not everything. Darko said it would be like trying to invent the whole internet all at once, rather than coming up with the basic structure, and letting it add upon itself over time. “That’s it,” Weaver said in response to his remark. “What we lack is time. More to the point, we lack perspective.”

“How do we get more...perspective?” Mateo asked, pulling himself out of his funk, and standing back up. He nearly tipped back over from the change in blood pressure, but managed to stay upright.

“We’ve been going about this all wrong. It’s not about Lincoln.”

“It isn’t?” Kivi asked.

“Of course it isn’t,” Lincoln agreed. Then he leaned towards Weaver. “Why isn’t it?”

“We and Arcadia alike have been operating under the notion that we need to somehow make a paper version of Lincoln’s brain. I’m not saying that’s impossible, but it’s not easy, especially since we only have until midnight central.”

“So, we go back in time?” Kivi suggested.

“Or we create a time bubble.” Mateo remembered when Future!Leona put him in a five year bubble so he could recover from a traumatic experience in only a day. The Rogue had done something similar when he trapped him on, and around, Tribulation Island for an extended period of time.

“No, because we’ll still have all this work that isn’t necessary. Again, it’s not about Lincoln. He’s not the only thing with a map of time and space.”

“Who else does?”

“Danica?” Darko wondered.

“No.” Weaver was getting excited. “Time. And space. Itself.”

“Uhhh...what?”

“We don’t have to build a map using the one we have in this room. It would be much easier if we just mapped the whole thing ourselves.”

“Yeah.” Kivi held her hand up like a student in a classroom, indicating her puzzlement. “How is that easier?”

“Dimensions,” Weaver said simply.

“Dimensions?”

“Dimensions,” she repeated, still without expanding her thoughts.

“Explain.”

“For us, spacetime is a continuum. But if you leave the universe, then it happens all at once.”

“Okay, how do we leave the universe?” Kivi asked.

“It doesn’t matter, it wouldn’t work,” Lincoln noted, to everyone’s disappointment, except for Weaver, who was still confident in her idea. “Arcadia asked for a map of time and space. If we go into the bulkverse, sure, we can see what’s happening in this one brane, but not all of it. The bulkverse is still part of it.”

“Can you?” Weaver asked with a smirk.

“Can I what?”

“Can you see what’s happening in the rest of the bulkverse? Can you see other universes?”

“Well...no.”

“Then Arcadia isn’t asking for that. She only cares about this universe.”

“I guess that’s true...” Lincoln may have been feeling genuine doubt, or petty sadness over no longer being the objective of their mission.

“I don’t know about you,” Darko began, “but I don’t know how we get outside of the universe, or what we would do there in order to map it.”

Weaver turned to Mateo. “He does.”

This was a surprise to everyone. Mateo rarely had an edge over anyone, least of all something involving physics. “I may have a way, but I will need Porter’s help.”

Porter elegantly glided over to him. “I am at your service.”

He took a deep breath and reluctantly said, “would you be able to provide for us...Bell’s bell.”

She held her smile, but widened her eyes. “That will be rather difficult.”

“But not impossible?”

“That is a metalink object, which means it cannot be retrieved from a microreality. I will have to take the real thing. I believe Arcadia has it at the moment, and I don’t think she would like that.”

“Then don’t take it from her,” Darko said. “You can pull things from the past and future, so take it from someone who had it before her. Then we’ll give it back, whatever it is.”

“You misunderstand. There can be only one. If I try to call forth a second version of a single metalink that’s not designed for that, it could destroy them both. Very few things in this universe hold it together, and that is one of them.”

“Please,” Mateo begged. “I’ll deal with Arcadia.”

She took a deep breath. “Very well. Bell’s bell.” She held up her hand and apported the object into it.

Mateo took it from her and rung it. A door appeared on the wall that was not there before. The bellhop, whose name was definitely not Bell, came out of it. “What can I do for you, sir?”

“I need access to the rest of the Crossover. I need to speak to Vearden.”

“Who is Vearden?”

“Doesn’t he run the Crossover? Or maybe his wife, Gretchen.”

“Never heard of ‘em,” Bell said unemotionally. “Perhaps they take possession of the Crossover sometime in its future. No one holds onto for very long. It’s kind of an unwritten rule that you pass it onto someone else afterwhile.”

“Oh. Well ,who runs it now?”

“That would be Harmony.”

“Okay. Could you...call Harmony here?”

“I will ask her. Please wait here a moment.” Bell stepped back through the door. He returned ten minutes later with a beautiful young woman wearing a cat t-shirt.

“My presence was requested?”

“Hello. My name is Mateo Matic. We were hoping to gain entry into the bulkverse.”

“You mean the m-void?” she asked.

“If...that’s what you call the space that’s, like, above all the universes, then yeah.”

“We’ve been tasked with creating a map of time and space,” Weaver stepped in to explain. “We have all the pieces, but we need data from the entire universe, which we can only get by leaving it.”

Harmony turned to Bell. “What brane is this again?”

“Your Highness, this is the one with all the time travel.”

“Temtea?” she asked.

“No, that was a galaxy in the composite universe. This one doesn’t have any simplex dimensions, or hyperspace, but does have temporal manipulation. Salmonverse is what we sometimes call it. Your Majesty.”

“You make him call you Your Majesty?” Darko questioned.

“I am Imperatrix Harmony, Ruler of Three Worlds, Founding member of QS-1.”

“Yes, of course. Sorry.”

She looked over the group, weighing her options. “Very well. You may do whatever it is you wish. Let me know when you’re done so I can return you to your Earth.”

“Oh, this isn’t Earth.”

“Just as well.”

Bell closed the door. Once he released his hand, the doorknob disappeared. He turned around to reveal a doorknob on the other side of the door now, which he opened for them. A woman was already in the room, looking over her instruments.

“Emery,” Harmony said to her. “Please navigate us to just outside this brane. The scientist apparently needs to study it.”

“Copy that,” Emery replied. She pushed buttons and turned knobs. They couldn’t feel the Crossover moving, but she seemed to think it was. Once she was where she evidently wanted to be, Emery stood up and gestured towards the back door. “I will escort you to the interface sector.”

“Thank you,” Weaver said. She and Lincoln followed, while the rest remained. There was really no way they could help. None of them was qualified to make any significant contribution, and any time they had helped over the last two days was nothing more than illusion and delusion.

“So,” Darko started a conversation. “How long have you had the Crossover?”

“Darko, you have a wife and child.”

“What does that have to do with anything?”

“I have been here for three of your Earth months. I will be returning home soon, though.”

“Where’s home?”

“A little planet in the Peg—”

“Mateo!” a voice cried from another room. “Mateo, where the hell are you! This place is a freakin’ maze!” It was Arcadia.

“We’re in here,” Mateo called back, knowing he couldn’t literally hide from her.

She finally found them. “What did I say about traveling to other universes?”

“Nothing.”

“Well, it was implied.”

“Why shouldn’t I? Because the powers that be can’t control me when I leave?”

“Yeah, kinda. I mean...no.”

“It’s all right, I have no intention of leaving without Leona and the rest of my family.”

“Well...good. What are we doing here?”

“This is where we’re gonna make the map.”

She looked at her wrist. “You don’t have long before midnight central. If you’re not back where you belong before then, your pattern is gonna get screwed up, and the powers will get mad.”

“How did they handle it the last time I was in the Crossover?”

“They didn’t.”

What? Mateo had to let that go for now. “We need it, Arcadia. I promise to be back in time, even if that means I leave Weaver and Lincoln here to finish the job.”

“The expiation calls for you to finish it by end of day,” Arcadia argued.

He got closer to her. “Something tells me you’ll be willing to let the time limit lapse for this particular thing.”

“If you’re not helping—which I’m okay with in this case, you’re right—then you might as well leave now. Be on the safe side.”

“Okay. Come on, Prince Darko. Kivi, the island or Lincoln?”

“Lincoln,” Kivi answered.

“Hold on,” Darko said. “This ship can go anywhere?”

“It’s not a ship,” Harmony corrected. “I know ships.”

“But it can take me anywhere, at any time, in any reality.”

“It can, yes.”

“Can it take me to my daughter?”

“Where is your daughter?” Harmony asked.

“I don’t know exactly.”

“Then no.”

“She made her choice,” Arcadia said impassionately. “You’re going to have to live with that; without her. Everybody comes, including you, Kivi.”

“It’s Kivi,” Kivi corrected the pronunciation that few of them could really get.

Darko walked by with steam coming out of his ears. He whispered something in Arcadia’s ear, and then left the not-ship. Kivi followed.

“What did he say to you?” Mateo asked, fearful for his brother’s safety.

“He thinks he’s gonna kill me one day,” she relayed. “If you’re interested in seeing that happen, I suggest you work hard on the next two expiations. Otherwise, you’ll never see him or Marcy again.”

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Microstory 675: Hide the Bar Catel

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The Bar Catel is not the only ship of its kind, but it is the most famous one. A bar is a type of interstellar vessel known for its brute sturdiness and massive capacity. Bara (true pluralization) are not elegant or attractive, but they are quite useful. They are cargo ships, often used to transport large amounts of sometimes extremely volatile substances. Bara were created 4,000 years ago in Lactea, the origin of the name being lost to the obscurest of historical trivia. The Bar Catel was one of the early models, and has been passed down across multiple cultures over time. Though obsolete, it has proven its worth time and time again, having shipped any number of precious commodities for various owners and clients. While large enough to accommodate an astral collimator capable of traveling intergalactic distances, bara were not built this way. All space needed to be designated for cargo. Around the time we were leaving our home galaxy in pursuit of Fostea, our peoples came into possession of the Bar Catel. In order for our ancestors to take it with them, they had to retrofit it with a red astral collimator, which was something that had never been done before. Honestly, there was a fairly decent chance that the whole thing would vaporize somewhere in the middle of the trip, but it didn’t. It survived, just like we did; just like we always do. We consider the Bar Catel to carry with it the spirit of Fostea. It is still in use today, with its red collimator, making frequent trips back and forth between here and Lactea. We take what we feel we deserve from them, and then we leave, while the Lacteans remain entire oblivious. Seemingly randomly, the Sacred Savior foretold in the Book of Light that the Bar Catel would have to be hidden, and that everyone who knew of its whereabouts would have to die so that the secret would die with them. In order to minimize the damage, only three people took the Bar Catel out, and no one else knows where they went. They could still be in Fostea, or they could be in a galaxy we’ve never even heard of before. A later taikon will explore its rediscovery, and we’ll go over that when the time comes.