Microstory 2648: Exploits

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Hrockas Steward watches as the ruins of the transfer warehouse crumble to the ground on top of three visitors. All of their substrates survive, and they go on with their day. That’s not the issue. This is a testing ground for people’s new superhuman abilities. He expects damage. This is quite a bit, to be sure, but the bots will rebuild as needed. The real problem is that one of them is not in the records. Using the remote identifying system, he can’t even see that she’s in the system at all. Not even a regular retinal scan is coming up with a match. He has no idea how she ended up on this planet, but he does know that her consciousness isn’t streaming, so she has no business being in Underbelly. How did she get her powers in the first place? “Run it back.”

“How far, sir?” the Custodian asks.

“As far back as it will go,” Hrockas clarifies. “I want to track her movements since she first entered this dome.”

“There won’t be sound, sir. It’s a privacy issue.”

“I understand that, C-01131-1. I’m the one who designed the protocols. Now show me her path. Show me the whole thing.” They watch the accelerated footage in reverse. The mysterious woman leaves in a car going backwards, and gets in a morgue drawer. The drawer closes, then opens again, and her body is transferred out of it by the mortician. It’s taken to a jewelry store where a blade is pulled out of her body, as well as a superhero’s. The footage skips after that as she spent weeks in a private space with no cameras. They keep watching her story, piecing together what she’s been through by witnessing the events in the wrong order. “There. Right there. What is that?”

“That is a maintenance tunnel that leads from the in-game subway to the outside world,” C-1 replies. “It’s used to travel into the city without interfering with the story.”

“How the hell did she know that was there?” Hrockas questions. “Keep going. I want to see where she was before.”

“I can’t, sir,” the custodian explains. “I only have access to Underbelly internal.”

“Right, I knew that. I’ll input my admin codes.” They watch more reverse footage. She has not been on Castlebourne for long, having come in on that second arkship. He does not have access to the ship’s sensors, so he doesn’t know how she managed to stay hidden there, but he doesn’t care at this point. She met with someone weeks ago who he recognizes. He takes out his phone, and calls her. “Are you alone?” When she answers yes, he says, “then this is a warning that I am teleporting to your location immediately.”

After he lands at the gym, she smiles at him. “Welcome, Steward.”

“I’m not in the mood, Tereth. Come with me.” He offers her his hand.

“Oh my, Hrockas. I am a married woman. What will my husband think?”

“Just take my goddamn hand.” Once she does and stops smiling, he teleports back to the custodial wing of Underbelly. He then points to the screen. “Who is this?”

Now Yunil has fully lost her joyful attitude. “Dont worry about it.”

“You know I can’t do that. What did you do? And before your respond with some quippy lie, allow me to skip it, and reiterate with more fervor, what did you do!”

Yunil sighs. “She wanted to stay unregistered. I gave her a clean ID.”

“You didn’t just give her any regular ID. You gave her admin access.”

“I...” she looks confused. “Did I? Wait, how can I do that? Our machine should not be able to do that. It’s just for the refugees, mostly the government.”

“That’s why it needed to be universal,” Hrockas argues. “You have admin access to all non-utility and non-logistical domes. You even have access to Military Dome, and you gave it to her too. Can you imagine if she had gone there instead? She would have placed global security at risk, rather than only her own life.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t realize it was that comprehensive. I didn’t know I was granting any admin access at all. I thought it would simply allow her to enter the domes. As a normal human, I assumed she would only go to safe places. Are we in Underbelly?”

“Yeah, thanks to you.”

“What happened? Is she okay?”

“I obviously can’t trust you with that information. I’ll let you agonize over what may or may not have happened to her. But I’m not yet certain what the consequences of your actions will be. I don’t care if you’re the Deputy Superintendent. This is my planet, you’re all here as guests, and I reserve the right to take it away from any individual at any time. That includes you. Your husband can’t keep you safe.”

“Now, just hold on, asshole! We’re all grateful that you provided us sanctuary, but that was decades ago. You can’t keep playing that card. We already lived under a tyrant. That is the whole point, so don’t you dare threaten me with exile, or whatever the hell else is on your mind. You may technically own the planet, but we govern the citizens. There are more of us than there are of you. The majority of your military is from the Corridor. We give this world legitimacy, so stop acting like it’s a burden. I’m sorry for what I did. I saw a lot of Dreychan in Mandica, and I wanted to help her, just as I helped him. If she’s in danger, let me go in myself and pull her out.”

Hrockas sighs. “She’s not in danger anymore. She found a loophole. We’re still trying to figure that out. As for you...you’re right. I’m sorry for treating you like burdens. I love that you’re here. I’m proud that I was able to give you safe haven. It just seems like I keep running into these vulnerabilities for people to exploit. First your now husband is almost killed, using a different type of ID spoofing, then an Exemplar in Spydome emerges, and shuts down an entire dome network with a single thought. I get upset because I’m trying to protect you from the Exin Army. What if the Oaksent finds another vulnerability? What if he discovers where we are? Again, what you did placed only this Mandica woman in danger. I do not think she’s a spy, but the next one who comes to you may be. Dreychan almost died because people thought that’s what he was. Don’t let that happen again. Don’t open the door. Proper procedure is there for a reason.”

“That’s a good point. I apologize again,” Yunil says, contrite.

He nods, but it’s still awkward.

“What...happened to her?” she asks. “You said she found a loophole? Did she decide to become a transhuman after all? She said that she was against it for herself.”

“She didn’t seem to do it on purpose,” Hrockas divulges. He runs the footage back to the jewelry store attack. “It somehow happened to her, like a real origin story.”

Yunil peers at the screen. “You do know that the Philosopher’s Stone is real, right? I don’t know if that’s it, but it’s not just a story. Bronach found it at some point.”

“Oh.” Hrockas looks at the Custodian. “Find out where that prop came from.”

“And that looks like the Sword of Assimilation,” Yunil goes on. “You should talk to one of your executive administrators. Darko Matic is the one who told me about it.”

Microstory 2645: Red Lion

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It’s been another few weeks, and Mandica is getting stir crazy. She hasn’t felt safe leaving the lair, so she has hardly tried. She wants to go out and live a life, because if she doesn’t, then she’s not really living anyway. Malika and Reagan are going with her. They want to show her around, maybe do a little shopping. The world is incredibly detailed and believable. The bots are perfectly programmed, and never break character. They don’t simply ignore all mentions of Castlebourne and Earth when she tests a few of them. They act confused, and start to think that maybe she’s not mentally well. Malika suggests she stop doing that. It’s not respectful behavior, and she’s entirely right about that. So Mandica embraces it. She goes all in on Ravensgate. This is her city now, and everything in it matters, including the people. Things might actually be okay.

“So, you two have a lot of money?” She’s been learning about the fiat economy.

“It’s my money,” Malika contends. “That’s how I wrote my character.”

“Why doesn’t everybody do that?” They’re in a jewelry store now called Magnum Opus. She’s scanning the gold and silver rings, and clocking the uppity saleswoman who is clearly afraid that Mandica is here to steal. But she doesn’t care about metals and rocks. They’re valuable, but only in their utility, and she doesn’t have the equipment. “Why do the others live in that studio apartment with a bed and a couch?”

“That’s the story that they wanted,” Reagan replies. “If you want luxury, book a room at the Palacium Hotel, or insert yourself into a virtual simulation. People come here because they want to get something they can’t get out there. Mal chose the wealthy life because it’s an interesting juxtaposition, having a rich person go out of their way to help others, instead of being selfish. She didn’t write it so she can afford nice things.”

“Still,” Malika adds, “pick anything you want. I can afford any three items here.”

“I have had jewelry before, but nothing fancy. It was mostly gifts with local cultural significance. And as Mordred’s lover, I sometimes accessorized.”

“That’s the beauty of the world now,” Malika says. “If something speaks to you, and it’s cheap, go ahead and put it on my card. If this world were real, people would judge it, but this is just for you. Choose it because it’s pretty, or even simply because it will remind you of the friends you were with when you were picking it out.”

Mandica breathes and nods in understanding and agreement. She looks away from the rings, and finds her gaze being pulled in one direction. Something is on display in the middle of the room. It looks unlike anything here, and may not even be for sale. It’s clearly meant to be wildly important and special, like a literal crown jewel.

“That’s the Philosopher’s Stone,” Malika tells her, “or what passes for it here.”

“Oh, I’ve heard of it,” Mandica says. “I may know more about Arthurian legend, but I’ve studied other stories too. It’s funny how...basic it looks.” She leans forward and peers at it. “It’s too even and smooth for a stone. It almost looks like it’s made of glass.”

“It’s not real,” Reagan says.

Mandica laughs. “It’s obviously not real. It’s just, why would they make it look like this. Is it only a placeholder until it can be replaced, or the propbots didn’t spend too much effort on it, because they didn’t expect any player to look too closely at it?”

“No clue. I lied earlier, though, because I could not afford that.”

That sounds about right. Mandica is still learning the value of currency, but eleven million dollars sounds like something that no player would have to throw around. She’s noticing the saleswoman again, who seems terribly afraid that Mandica is seriously considering heisting a silly piece of red glass. She’s about to confront her about the possible racial profiling when glass starts flying everywhere. Every window in this store has been shattered, and every display case, including the Stone’s. Mandica is thrown into its pedestal by the blast. It hurts, but she’s not injured.

She looks up at the commotion. Vanore is standing there now, not concealing her face in the least. She is as gorgeous as the day Mandica met her on Earth. But she’s dressed drastically differently here. She’s wearing an oversized dark cloak with striking violet lining. The collar is huge, cupping her rosy cheeks, which contrast harshly against her otherwise porcelain skin. Her hair has been darkened, and done up tightly over her head, held together by what almost looks like barbed wire. A security officer takes his gun out, and aims it at the intruder, but he’s shaking. She effortlessly slings some kind of blade at him. It lodges in his neck, and he bleeds. The bots bleed. Morgana steps forward menacingly. “When I take someone’s eyes, I expect them to remain eyeless! I’m going to have to take your new ones now, but when I’m done with you this time, there will be no space left for a second replacement!” She starts walking closer to Mandica.

Reagan, still wearing his civilian clothes, steps between her and Mandica.

Blue Umbra is now in her suit, but did not bother putting on her mask. She lunges at Morgana, and starts doing her thing. Whatever magicks Vanore has been able to replicate using real world tech, she keeps it in her back pocket, and fights back physically. She’s not breaking a sweat, though, while Blue Umbra is struggling. She is nigh invincible, and strong, but not strong enough for Vanore. They said that Ravensgate Rescuer and Cardinal Sin were the best in town, but that does not seem true.

At last, Morgana has grown weary of this distraction. She lifts Blue Umbra into the air by her neck. “Your name is an oxymoron, and you...are simply a moron.” She reaches over with her arm to lift Blue Umbra’s legs up. She then pushes both arms down to break Blue Umbra’s back against her thigh.

Mandica turns away in disgust. Malika will survive that, but it’s still unsettling.

Reagan tenses up now that he has become the last line of defense against the villain. He doesn’t have his gun. It’s too large to carry, and you can’t bring bags into jewelry stores. Still, he may be able to delay Mandica’s death by half a second.

Morgana scoffs. “You are hardly worth my time.” She pulls her arm across her chest, and backhands Reagan so hard that he’s thrown to the side, and passes out. Out of nowhere, the Ravensgate Rescuer drops down from the ceiling to take Reagan’s place. Morgana cackles. She actually cackles, like a witch. “I held back in the alley, but I won’t be so magnanimous this time.”

“I’m not alone this time,” Ravensgate Rescuer volleys.

Cardinal Sin appears from the side, and starts wailing on Morgana. Ravensgate Rescuer joins in too. A hero-villain team-up issue. Classic. It’s not enough. They are not strong enough for her. She still doesn’t act like she’s having any trouble. She cuts deeply into Cardinal Sin’s face with claws that she apparently has, and kicks her in the chest. She turns to her one remaining challenger. All out of quips, Morgana draws a sword from under her cloak, and drives it into Ravensgate Rescuer’s stomach. Having been standing too close, the blade cuts into Mandica too. Ravensgate Rescuer falls back on top of Mandica, and they both die.

The Advancement of Mateo Matic: July 3, 2485

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Dr. Hammer asked the team to take the Vellani Ambassador back to the future, along with Tertius Valerius. She worked with Romana in her own time period, and was able to jump to a few conclusions, though they still needed to be tested. Apparently, the dark particles that Buddy used to manipulate time were designed to replicate, and they were doing that in Romana’s system. To keep them from becoming overpopulated, she should probably find a way to purge them periodically, like the ship had to do with the excess heat shunt. Due to their immense power, these particles had become the dominant means of time travel for Romana. She wasn’t jumping forward in time, because the particles didn’t need her to. They weren’t sentient—they responded to her commands—but since she didn’t understand this, she hadn’t tried yet. Or she hadn’t tried in the right way. Theoretically, she should be able to force herself to return to her regular pattern, using techniques that a specialist Dr. Hammer had brought in to consult. They would not know until the end of the day when they could test it. But this had to be in the future, because they were trying to keep it matched up with everyone else on the team. Well, that was what she was trying to do. Mateo had other ideas.

“I know you want to be part of this, but you have an opportunity here. You have a choice. You should stay. Purge the particles when you need to, but otherwise stay in realtime,” he suggested.

“You don’t want me with you?” Romana asked.

“I didn’t say that.”

“Good, because actually, it’s not that I wouldn’t be with you. It’s that you wouldn’t be with me. I’ll have to wait a year at a time to see my own father. I’ll keep aging while you just stay like this.”

“I appreciate your position,” Mateo promises her, “but there’s a benefit to you staying.” He walked over, and slid then nearest viewport cover open. The Ambassador had landed in Castledome. Kivi and Dubravka had found swords in the castle a few months ago, and were teaching themselves how to use them properly. They were sparring now, not even worrying about amateur injuries, due to their access to great medical care. “You should get to know them. They should be your team.”

“Why can’t we all just be one team?” Romana questioned, tearing up.

He took a breath, and admired their surroundings. They were alone in Delegation Hall. “This ship was designed to protect people, not only from each other, but from themselves. We get it one day a year, and we make the most of it. But it’s not enough. Your stepmother wants to use it to rescue people from an oppressive empire thousands of light years away. This is one of the very few vessels capable of making that journey in any reasonable amount of time. And it’s not a once-per-year type of need.”

“You want us to go rescue people, one ship-full at a time?”

“I already spoke with Ramses,” Mateo went on. “He’s building a new model pocket dimension. It will be able to hold hundreds of people, efficiently, and safely. You can ferry one group per day. You’ll have to evade capture and destruction over the course of several hours, though, as there’s a time restriction for how many jumps you can make.”

“You’ve thought a lot about this,” Romana pointed out.

“Leona’s been working on the plans for a while now,” he explained. “All I did was multiply it by 365. By the time we get back, you will have potentially saved tens of thousands of people. That’s tens of thousands of people per year. This isn’t something that we can do. Only you and your sisters can, because you’re the only ones we trust with this technology, and the mission.”

“I’m surprised that you think I’m capable of such a thing,” she noted.

He nodded. “You’re eighteen now. Since I didn’t raise you, I have to assume that you’re capable. It would be as unfair as it is irrational for me to assume otherwise. But still, this is not an order. I’m only asking. Kivi and Dubra are training, whether they know it or not. If you wanna take a few years to do the same, that’s perfectly all right. You know, this planet has multiple simulations that can give you the skills you’ll need to protect those Exin refugees. The ship itself is automated, but you’ll run into conflict.”

“Oh my God, the planet...the dome! I never showed you the dome that I built for you! It completely slipped my mind.”

“You didn’t have to do anything for us,” he assured her.

“Well, I didn’t lay the bricks and plant the trees by hand.”

The two of them exited, and joined the girls. They then went around and gathered everyone else; Olimpia and the twins from the South Pole Ocean, Ramses from his lab, and Leona, who was finishing up a meeting with Hrockas and Tertius Valerius. They were trying to figure out if Tertius had any interest in staying here, or if he wanted to be transported to some other point in spacetime. They all held hands, and let Romana navigate them to the dome that she claimed for herself years ago.

They found themselves standing on the roof of a pretty tall skyscraper. It wasn’t as high as a megastructure arcology, but it clearly dominated the skyline. Everyone separated, and started to get a look around. It wasn’t the only building in the area. They were in the middle of a city fit for hundreds of thousands of people, and if their views of the outlying lands were any indication, even more. It wasn’t an original design, though. Many of them had been here before, just on a different world.

“I recognize this,” Mateo said.

“It’s Kansas City,” Leona confirmed. “It’s a detailed replica of all of Kansas City.”

“In the 2010s,” Romana agreed. “The whole metro area in the main sequence.”

“How did you do this?” Mateo asked.

“It’s actually not as hard as you might think,” Romana said. “I just searched the virtual stacks for this area, in this time period. Then I asked the computer to convert the map data to a format that the large-scale automated fabricators could read. Years later, here we are with a replica of the KC Metro within a diameter of 83 kilometers. The interiors of the buildings are predominantly unfinished, and definitely unfurnished, but it looks like the real thing from the outside. The mansion where you briefly lived with your once-mother in an old timeline is totally done, though with some creative liberties, since my access to real estate sales photos was limited.”

Tertius was looking towards the holographically simulated sky. “What’s happening up there?” He wasn’t looking at the clouds, though, but focusing on something protruding from the curved walls.

“Oh, that’s a second layer,” Romana said. “I started it, but commanded it to stop, because I don’t actually know what I would put there, or how big it should be.” Since these domes were 83 kilometers in diameter, the total height from the ground to the zenith was 41.5 kilometers. There was no reason why extra layers of livable space weren’t possible. In fact, one could build hundreds, or even thousands, of stacked layers, if they were so inclined. It could become pretty stifling, but with modern technology, it was certainly feasible. One extra layer several kilometers up was no problem at all. They could do whatever they wanted with it.

“I can’t believe you did this,” Mateo said.

“I thought you might like a taste of home,” she replied. “We could put Topeka in the dome next to it. Maybe Sutvindr next to that one?”

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” Hrockas jumped in. “I didn’t approve this one in the first place.”

“Ya mad, bro?” Olimpia asked.

Hrockas smiled. “It’s fine. This isn’t where you were planning to bring the refugees, though, right? Because I have some other ideas for that.”

“Ideas, like what?” Leona asked him.

This world has lava tubes. Some of the domes were built on the mouths of these tubes, which give them extra space, and a place to hide from their enemies.”

“Are we worried about that?” Dubravka questioned. “How likely is it that the bad guys find them here?”

“Pretty likely,” Leona said sadly. “It would not be difficult for an empire sympathizer to infiltrate the refugees, and send a message back to the Goldilocks Corridor, with our coordinates, and other intelligence. Of course, it will take most of their ships 23 years to get here, but we can’t be a hundred percent sure that Bronach hasn’t cracked true faster-than-light technology, or stolen it.” She looked over at Ramses. “That’s why I had my engineer design a fleet of orbital defense platforms. In any case, I do not hate the idea of the refugees having bunkers to hide in during the eventuality of an attack. I would much appreciate access to all such domes. We don’t fully understand the politics of the Corridor. People from different worlds may not get along, or there may even be internal conflicts. This is gonna be very complicated.”

Roman stepped forward. “I’m up for the challenge.” She looked back at her sisters. “What about you two?”

“What was that?” Kivi asked, not knowing what she was talking about.

“Our father offered us a job. We’re to take daily trips to the Goldilocks Corridor to relocate refugees to this planet.”

“Uh, it won’t start that way,” Leona began to clarify. “You won’t be able to just land on a planet, pull in some passengers, then bug out. You’ll need to find out who even wants to go, and make sure that transporting them won’t make things worse, for them, or for those they leave behind. If a population of millions wants to leave, it’s going to take tons of trips, which will leave people vulnerable until their numbers are called. And that’s just one planet. The enemy will have so many chances to retaliate while you’re in the middle of this.”

“I may have a solution for that,” Ramses said. “Or a workaround.” He opened his bag, and removed a toy spaceship. “Battledrones. They can stay behind, and protect the innocent and vulnerable. They can distract the empire with war.”

Leona took in a deep breath, and exhaled it. “I was hoping to avoid violence.”

Mateo cleared his throat. “Bronach claimed that he maintained control over the resistance’s ships. War is happening. The right side needs resources, because they may not have any without us.”

“That’s true,” Leona admitted.

“There’s a lot to work out,” Romana admitted as well. “For now, I’m raising my hand to join the mission. Can you two say the same?”

Dubravka appeared to be considering it. “As long as we come up with a great plan, it would be more productive than just swingin’ swords, and lounging by the pool.”

“I’m not much of a fighter,” Kivi added, “but I believe I can use my vast lawyering skills to negotiate with the potential refugees.”

Tertius stepped forward. “I’m in too, if you’ll have me,” he announced sheepishly. “I can erase everyone’s memories. They won’t even know that their friends are gone while they wait for the next bus.”

“That’s a brilliant idea,” Leona said gratefully. “I think it would be profoundly helpful. Thank you.”

Tertius replied with a polite nod.

“I’ll need time to get the domes ready,” Hrockas reminded them. “And arrange regular transport from them to the recreational domes. I would like to create a welcome video too, so they understand what this world has to offer. It sounds like their lives aren’t all that fun. If they know how great the planet is that they’ll be going to, they might be more willing to entertain the option. I’m happy to use them as my gamma testers before the grand opening fifteen years from now.”

“Much appreciated,” Leona said, grateful once more.

“I can help with the video,” Angela said. “I have some experience welcoming people. I’m imagining a series.” She looked at her watch. “The problem is I’m only around once a year.”

“Oh, we’re not ready to go either way,” Romana explained. “I need time to train. I don’t have a lesson plan yet, but it’s gonna be somethin’.”

“I have some simulations that are ready to move from alpha testing to beta that I’m sure would be of help,” Hrockas told her.

Mateo had been listening to all this, taking note of what Romana and his other daughters were going to need in the coming years. This first year will be important, and they don’t have much time to prepare for it. Having a thought on something, he walked over to Ramses. “Sidebar.” He teleported them both to the middle of the woods on the outskirts of the dome.

Ramses looked around. “How did they get trees and other plant life here?”

“Turn off your comms.” Mateo tapped his neck as his friend did the same. “Romana wants to be trained, and I don’t want her teacher to be some artificial intelligence. We already took the VA to Snake Island today, and back again. How dangerous would it be for the slingdrive if we tried to make another trip?”

“Well, it would be two trips, not one, so...”

“So...” Mateo echoed. “You’re still the one with the answer.”

“So, I think I can make it work, if it’s an emergency.”

“It’s not an emergency, but it’s time-sensitive.”

“Are you trying to pick someone up?”

“Yeah. My brother, Prince Darko. And maybe the rest of my family. And Kivi’s beau, Lincoln. And a bunch of other friends.”

Ramses smiled. “Let’s start with the one.”

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The Advancement of Mateo Matic: February 8, 2338

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In the year 2008, in one reality, day rewinder, Horace Reaver accidentally killed his best friend, Dardan Lusha. The former was only six years old, and the latter only seven. Knowing he was capable of it, Horace went back in time at the end of the day, and prevented himself from making the same mistake again. This was when he realized that other people only got one shot in their lives, and also when he knew that the two of them could no longer be friends. Dardan moved on with his life, never knowing what had happened to him. But Horace’s future daughter, Meliora knew, and she was worried that Dardan would always be in danger. She built a place called Sanctuary on a planet millions of light years from Earth. Here, normal people who were negatively impacted by time travel could live out the rest of their lives, protected and in peace. A fifteen-year-old Dardan was her first resident, but he was nowhere near its last. Even as travelers continued to change the timeline, Meliora rescued as many people as she could, always starting with Dardan Lusha. In one timeline, soon after him, she agreed to rescue a few more.

Starting with Ramses Abdulrashid, and ending with Jeremy Bearimy, seven more people were brought to the Sanctuary hotel in its very early days. There defeat Anatol Klugman. Though this enemy yet remained, the vacation was over. It was time to leave Sanctuary, and make a jump to over 300 years into the future. Mateo, Leona, and Kivi would be waiting for them to finish this once and for all. It was predetermined that when they arrived in 2338, the final battle would ensue. They could put it off as long as they wanted, but there was no avoiding it altogether. The duel had to take place, and the winner would decide both their own fate, and that of their opponent.

“That’s a beautiful story,” Anatol said in disgust. “Why don’t I remember any of it? I mean, I know how it happened. What I don’t understand is how you managed to overpower me, and let Tertius Valerius manipulate my memories.”

“We didn’t have to overpower you,” Mateo began to explain. “You agreed to forget about the challenge as long as we eventually got to it.”

“Why did I agree to forget about you friends, though?” Anatol pressed. “I still don’t remember those people.”

“We had him take a little bit more from your mind than you agreed upon. We figured you would circumvent the agreement yourself, so we at least wanted to protect them from your wrath.”

“Wait, you’re telling me you were worried I would betray you...so you betrayed me first?”

“Exactly,” Mateo confirmed.

“I know I’m supposed to be mad, but right now, all I feel is respect for your decision,” Anatol admitted.

“Thank you,” Mateo said. “It was actually all my idea. I had to make up for years and years of being all but completely useless, and having to rely on much smarter people.”

Anatol would have done a spit take if he had been drinking. “Do you believe you have accomplished this goal?”

Mateo looked over to his wife, who was on the other side of the sandstone monolith. She was warming up for the duel, supported by their people. Mateo felt bad about The Warrior being alone, and came over to at least clarify what was happening, and why. “Not in the least.”

“Indeed,” Anatol agreed. “Even today she fights for you as champion.”

“She trained for this,” Mateo said. “I never would have made it through that training. She has a knack for learning new things.”

“Do you honestly think that she can beat me? Keep in mind that you are no longer protected by the powers that be, and that I have already demanded Uluru not let anyone else on the battlegrounds. That is the only reason you beat Zeferino Preston, and I will not let you so easily come at me through a loophole.”

“Where is Zeferino, by the way? He was with you at the theatre, and then we never saw him again,” Mateo pointed out.

“I put him back in his reality,” Anatol answered. “He wasn’t fun to work with anymore.”

“Indeed,” Mateo responded simply.

“Is there a point to you being over here?” Anatol questioned.

Mateo placed a hand on his enemy’s shoulder. “Whatever happens today, just know that I still believe in you. I still believe you can be redeemed. All you have to do is take that first step. The second one will be easier, I promise.”

Anatol rolled his shoulder away. “It’s always mind games with you. People think you’re this helpless little moron who hides behind his friends, but I know the truth. I know that you’re the most dangerous of the bunch. But what makes you dangerous isn’t your intellect, or your muscles. It’s your ability to make even the most steadfast of people feel like they’re making a mistake; like you know something that they will never quite understand, not even once the fight is over. I believe that you are an undiagnosed psychopath.”

Mateo chuckled once, like a high school student who knows the middle school student will know better someday. “Catch you on the flippity-flop.”

Unlike the duel he had with The Cleanser those many years ago, there weren’t many people in the audience. Only Leona’s friends would be there to take witness. No other family, no people from their future, no bulkverse travelers. It was a private affair, and it was much simpler, which was why it was taking place on the Uluru rock formation, and not in the Colosseum replica. Uluru, the man, approached the center of the grounds, and began his opening remarks. “This is a physical duel, with swords as exclusive weapons. All temporal powers and patterns are temporarily suspended. Death is not required to indicate defeat, but it is also not against the rules. The winner may spare the loser, but in order to be considered the winner, they must be in a position where a final blow would end the battle, and the loser must be without options. Both of you have been trained...trained under different circumstances, but trained just the same. You know the difference between winning and losing, but if there is a dispute as to who wins, I will step in and make judgment. Does everyone understand?”

The two duelers walked towards him.

“I do.”

“Yes.”

Uluru looked from one to the other, assessing their fitness for the fight, and then he gracefully stepped back. “Have at it.”

The two of them began to clash. Anatol had been training for this sort of thing for more than his entire adult life, which was likely longer than most. They didn’t know if he was immortal, or if he just managed to pack in a whole lot of life during his prime years. He did look older than he did when this first began, but maybe Mateo was just imagining that. No matter what, he was a career fighter—which was what earned him the right to be called The Warrior in the first place—and Leona was not. She only trained for three years; by one of the most skilled fighters in two realities, but practice makes perfect, and Leona’s experience was limited. Still, Anatol was not overconfident, and he did not underestimate his opponent. He went at her with full force, and he clearly respected her. A lot of time travelers were from the past, during a time when women and minorities were considered less than. Yet nearly all of them embraced the wokeness of the future, either because they came to see it as superior, or because they never really bought into the racism and sexism of their day. Dr. Hammer posited that backwards-thinking time travelers necessarily did not exist, because if they were too tied down to the culture of their given day, they would never learn to escape it. Perhaps social responsibility was an important prerequisite. Anatol was evidently no exception, and unfortunately, that only lowered Leona’s chances of winning the duel.

Leona managed to hold her own, though. She just kept striking back, never letting him get any significant advantage over her. They swung and slashed and hit and kicked. The audience could see the fatigue setting in as the battle continued. If a scene in an action film were to go on this long, the audience would grow bored, and probably stop caring who won. They weren’t hopping off of rocks, or sweeping the legs. They were just desperately trying to cut each other with the blades, and never getting close enough. It would seem that Anatol’s advanced age, and Leona’s inexperience, made for quite an even match. Six minutes later, it was still going, which might not have sounded like a long time, but for this kind of combat, it was an eternity.

It was then that Mateo decided to break the rules, and step in. He walked right up to the duelers with his arms up, knowing that either of them could hurt him instead, whether by accident, or with malicious intent. Upon seeing him, they both dropped their weapons, and took a step back from each other. They were both grateful for the break. “Okay, okay, okay.” He smiled, not because it was humorous, but because it was absurd. “What the hell are we doing here?”

Anatol had to speak between breaths. “I made a challenge, and she accepted.”

“That was a long time ago,” Mateo pointed out, “for all of us.”

“Time ain’t nothin’ but a thang,” Anatol replied with the old adage.

Mateo didn’t know what he was going to say, so he just winged it. “The challenge was a duel, which has now taken place. There was no rule about someone needing to win, or how long it needed to go on. So let’s just say it’s done, and move on.”

“Someone needs to win,” Anatol argued, “or how will we decide what happens to the lot of you?”

“Is that really what you want, to be in control of powerless people? Is this the warrior’s way? Is this where you saw your evil plan going? There must be a reason they don’t call you The General, or The Lord High Commander.”

“I haven’t always won my fights,” Anatol began, “but I’ve never had a tie. It cannot end in a tie. This is not football.”

“No, you’re right,” Mateo agreed. “We can’t tie, because in a tie, both teams lose. I’m talking about a win-win situation. You walk away now, and the timeline will remember you as a merciful warrior, who fights with honor. You keep fighting my wife, whether you win or not, you’ll be forever known as a villain, not because she’s a hopeless girl, but because she is indisputably a good person, and everyone loves her.”

“You can’t control that,” Anatol contended. “You can’t decide how people perceive me, especially not in both directions of time.”

“We’ve done it before,” Mateo reminded him. “We restored the reputation of Nerakali Preston, Gilbert Boyce, and Horace Reaver. Hell, I’d like to think we even helped make Zeferino Preston look a little better. The jury’s still out on Arcadia; there are too many conflicting versions of her, and the noblest one doesn’t live in this universe.”

“All I have to do is walk away,” Anatol echoed.

“Might sound too easy to you, but remember where this offer is coming from,” Mateo said. “We are not known for being petty or vengeful, are we?”

“I suppose not.” Anatol considered it for a moment. He had long ago caught his breath, and was standing straight. He could go another round if he needed to, and so could Leona. Chances are, it would last another six minutes, and end just as inconclusively. “Very well.”

The three of them looked over to Uluru, who couldn’t care less about the results for this particular battle, and didn’t seem perturbed by the interruption.

Anatol picked up his sword, and jammed it into a crevice between himself and Leona. Assuming it was her turn to do the same, she followed suit. They shook hands, and then the Warrior dropped his Cassidy cuff, and disappeared. It would be the last time that anyone on the current Matic team would ever see his face.

“Well. That plan worked,” Mateo noted.

“I’m glad you rehearsed the speech,” Leona said, relieved at how well it went.

He didn’t rehearse nothin’. “What do we do now?” he asked. “We didn’t plan anything past the draw, and I imagine it’s only a matter of time before the next antagonist decides it’s their turn to torment us in what they believe to be a new and creative way.”

Leona retrieved her sword, wiped it off, and sheathed it. She picked up the primary cuff too. “Ya know what? I didn’t really like skipping from the 16th century to the 17th, to the 19th, and so on. I grew rather comfortable on the Bearimy-Matic pattern. Let’s put our cuffs on, and go back to that pattern.” She turned, and began walking towards their friends to tell them her idea.

Mateo, meanwhile, reached down and pulled Anatol’s sword out. He turned it up, and admired the craftsmanship. He wasn’t much of a swordsman—or any kind of swordsman at all—but this could come in handy one day.

“Put it down!” Leona ordered without turning back. “You’ll hurt yourself!”

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The Advancement of Mateo Matic: November 23, 1876

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Anatol didn’t give them any time to rest before sending them off to their next mission. He didn’t say much about what they were going to be doing, which was standard protocol. He was careful to make sure they understood to convince the young version of himself to go back to Prussia, while they did whatever he was intending to do instead. They still didn’t know what that was, but they still didn’t have any leverage against The Warrior, and he was providing them with opportunities to save people’s lives. Perhaps he was becoming more like Nerakali and Jupiter, which was what they wanted all along. At the moment, they were standing at the bank of a river, or a lake, or something.

Olimpia knelt down, and dipped a few fingers in the water. She then stuck them in her mouth. “Salty.”

“My dear!” said a gentleman who was walking by with a fancy cane. “Of course it’s salty. It’s the ocean!”

Olimpia smiled submissively. “Yes, sir. I’ve never seen the sea. I have lived my whole life inland, on a farm.”

“Very well, miss.” The dandy started to walk on.

“Um, first,” Olimpia stopped him. “Since I am such a fool, could you tell us where we are, and maybe...the date?”

He looked upon her with such pity. “Portsmouth, on the twenty-third of November.”

She continued to give him puppy dog eyes.

“Eighteen-seventy-six.”

“Thank you, kind sir.”

He was able to walk away.

“At least they speak English,” Jeremy noted.

“Anyone got eyes on the target?” Angela questioned.

“Yeah, he’s over there behind all that brush,” Mateo answered. “He’s been spying on us since we arrived.” They all looked over to see the figure of a man, crouched behind the tall grass, still as a statue, hoping he wasn’t actually spotted. “Come on out Annie,” Mateo instructed. “We need to talk.”

A young Anatol Klugman stood up, and approached them. Though he had just spent the last several years killing Prussian enemies in every war that his state was involved in, he appeared wide-eyed and naïve. He had yet to become so cynical and combative.

“You speak English by now, don’t ya, Annie?” Mateo went on.

Anatol just nodded his head.

“You gotta go home.”

“Why?”

“I don’t actually know, but it’s where you belong right now. Perhaps it has something to do with your mother?”

“My mother is dead.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Mateo said genuinely. He reached behind him, and offered his hand to Angela, who took it, and stepped forward reluctantly. “This woman delivered you. Your mother was alone, and we showed up to help.”

“That was thirty-eight years ago,” Anatol said.

“We skipped all that time to come right here...to help you yet again. Helping you is sort of...what we do,” Mateo explained, mostly truthfully.

“I have business to conduct here,” Anatol argued.

“We’ll do it for you,” Mateo promised.

“You don’t understand...” Anatol lamented.

“We understand enough,” Mateo contended. “Prussia needs you. The port is ours.” He gestured towards the harbor behind him.

Anatol thought over the proposition. “I suppose, if you fail, I will always be able to return to this moment to repair what you broke.”

“Yes, you could always come back. But you might not have to...if you tell us what it is you were here to do in the first place.”

“You don’t already know?” Anatol asked rhetorically before disappearing without so much as a helpful hint.

“We’ll figure it out,” Leona assured her husband. “We always do.”

Mateo turned and gazed upon the water. “My guess is that someone is going to drown. Let’s fan out, and look for trouble.”

Since there were only five of them, they couldn’t cover much ground, but they were theoretically already in about the right spot, or the Warrior would have dropped them off somewhere else, and the other Warrior would have shown up there too. It was Olimpia who happened to be closest to the problem when it arose. It wasn’t just a drowning, however. As reported later, a man was deliberately holding a woman’s face down in the water; possibly to murder her, or maybe just to shut her up. The rest of the gang didn’t make it there in time to help. They just heard a blood-boiling scream, along with probably half of England.

When they arrived, the man was frantically crawling around on the ground like a dog. “You—you damned dirty wagtailing hedge-creeper! What did you do to me!” Blood was running down his ears, and dripping onto the grass. Olimpia’s arm was wrapped around the survivor’s shoulders, and she was slowly crab walking them both away from the would-be killer.

Jeremy knelt down, and tried to hold the man in place, but he freaked out, and started flailing around like a fish on the dock. Jeremy didn’t let up, though. He pulled the man’s wrists together behind his back, pressed his cheek down on the grass, and started rubbing his back. It kind of looked like a deep tissue massage. After a few moments, he looked back up to the group. “I once saw my dad use this technique on a dog who wouldn’t let him into a house to help its injured owners.”

“He’s right, though,” Leona said, looking over at Olimpia. “What did you do?”

“I think I burst his eardrums,” she answered. “With my voice,” she added.

“He deserved it,” said the survivor as she wiped some residual water from her face. It was then that they realized quite how young she was. A girl, they might have called her. He was much too old for her, though they had to remember this was a different time. Besides, there could be any number of reasons these two were at the harbor together, and anyway, nothing would have given him the right to shove her face in the water like that. It didn’t really matter who she was, or who he was, or what they were doing, or what precipitated the attack. It shouldn’t have happened, and none of them could feel bad about the consequences that this man was now suffering. They weren’t here to hurt people, even though that was what Anatol wanted, but that didn’t mean they were going to condemn Olimpia for taking it this far. Sometimes, the only way to keep someone from getting hurt was to hurt someone else. Some people just gave you no choice.

They left the man on the ground, knowing that a passerby would discover him at some point. It wasn’t their responsibility to make sure he was okay. They needed to get this young woman to safety, and if that meant giving her a cuff temporarily, so she could join them on the next jump, then so be it. For now, they just made their way into the woods, where they could set up their fancy futuristic tents, and stay on the fringes of society. She was obviously impressed that such a large structure once fit inside such a small bag, but she didn’t ask questions about it. It wasn’t crazy enough to warrant her rethinking everything she knew about the world, like a cell phone, or something, would. She was particularly attached to Olimpia, for obvious reasons, so the latter stayed with the former while she tried to get some sleep. The rest of them made a fire, and sat around to talk.

“Did you notice her name?” Angela asked as she was warming her hands.

“Orna?” Mateo echoed how the woman had answered the question on the walk here.

“Orna Kelly,” Angela said in full.

They all shrugged their shoulders, and shook their heads to indicate that they did not see the significance.

“Does she become famous, or something?” Jeremy asked.

“Not her, really. And maybe not at all. It could just be a coincidence.”

“Go ahead,” Leona encouraged.

Angela began the story. “Decade after I died, I wasn’t anywhere near being considered for a role as a counselor yet. I was just a normal resident, but I was...privy to certain historical knowledge that other people didn’t have access to. I didn’t know it at the time, but since I had a personal connection to a time traveler, Tamerlane Pryce let me know a thing or two about life back on Earth. You have to understand that once you died, you lost all connection to the world. If you wanted to know what was happening, you had to wait until you just so happened to run into someone who died at some point after you, and just ask them to recount the history. I, on the other hand, like I said, had access to the news. I received a newspaper every day that gave me just a brief overview of current events. I didn’t know why I was receiving this, or why other people weren’t, but I just accepted the privilege, and read it during my breakfast.

“Well, since I’m a clever girl, I was able to occasionally use this knowledge to meet certain historical figures, because I got an alert every time they died. It’s essentially what eventually made me become a counselor in the first place. I am cognizant of certain...truths...about certain...conspiracies. I know who killed JFK because I was able to talk to people that people on Earth weren’t. Anyway, the year is 1888. I meet a twentysomething woman named Mary Jane Kelly.”

“Jack the Ripper,” Leona interrupted.

“That’s right. She was his last victim, and she told me...well she told me a lot of things, but she talked about her family. She mentioned having a sister named Odharnait, which I believe is the full name for the diminutive Orna.”

“You think that’s Dark Mary’s sister?” Leona guessed, pointing to the tent.

“Timeline checks out,” Angela said. “I don’t know anything for sure.”

“What does this mean?” Jeremy asked. “For the rest of the timeline, that is. Did we save this Mary Jane’s life just by saving her sister first, or what?”

“Without someone like Anatol to tell us, there is no way to know the consequences of our actions, or Olimpia’s,” Leona explained. “All we can say for sure is that she saved someone’s life today. How that impacts the future is not for us to say...not yet. We still don’t know why Young!Anatol had to go back home, and let us take care of this mission, instead of just letting things play out as they did. He’s a time traveler, he should have been able to go back home afterwards.”

“Maybe that killer has powers.” Olimpia was out of the tent, and sitting down on the log. “And maybe Anatol didn’t want his younger self to end up with those powers. Maybe Prussia has nothing to do with this.”

“Spot on!” The Warrior said. They turned to find him standing a few meters away, covered in blood. He jammed the Sword of Assimilation into the ground, and left it there while he walked over to warm himself by the fire. “My stupid younger self was an idiot. He was reckless with his powers. He just jumped around the timeline, taking whatever he wanted. That man’s abilities...it was too early. Young!Me isn’t ready. I’m ready now, so I had you alter my personal timeline, so I could assimilate myself into my future alternate self’s body. I know it’s confusing, but everything’s better now. Miss Kelly is on her way to her true destiny, and it’s time for you to return to the modern day.”

“What exactly is Orna’s destiny?” Leona questioned.

“Don’t worry about her,” Anatol said. “No one is going to connect her to that asshole’s murder. I know how to get rid of a body. And before you get all high and mighty on me, I agreed to let you save people’s lives, instead of taking them. I never agreed to go celibate myself.”

“That’s not what celibate means,” Jeremy said to him.

“It does for people like me.”

“Where are we going?” Mateo asked, knowing that this conversation about death could only end up in a fight if it were allowed to continue.

“How does 2013 sound?” Anatol smiled with his teeth. “Huh? Computers? Showers? Ubiquitous antiseptics? Let’s do this. You’ll have a week to rest.”

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The Advancement of Mateo Matic: Tuesday, November 12, 2250

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After the deed was done, Mateo sent a message through the cuffs that he needed to be alone for the rest of the day. He asked the Nexus technician on Varkas Reflex to send him to a random planet in the galaxy. There actually was a setting for that, which let the computer decide where he would go. The world it chose was almost entirely desert. A single artificially constructed oasis supported life for the few people who decided to check the place out. He was the only one there at the time, except for the world’s caretaker, which suggested the Nexus computer knew exactly what he was looking for. It wasn’t that luxurious, so Mateo didn’t feel bad about not inviting his team to be there with him. Apparently, this world was floating around the Milky Way at a pretty great distance from the black hole in the center. This was what made the place so barren, but Mateo didn’t bother listening to the whole explanation, which involved heavy elements, and gravitational disturbances. He just sat in his chair, and tried to think about anything besides the fact that he just murdered another person; and a friend, no less.

Before the day could end, he jumped back to Earth, and rendezvoused with his team on the Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez. He just wanted to put the past behind him, and focus on the fact that Pharrell was right when he claimed that No-one Ever Really Dies, and Nerakali was just having different adventures in the simulation. He still wished that he could erase his people’s memories of what he had done, but unfortunately, what he had done had quite specifically removed brain blending from their inventory of time powers. Hopefully they would never run into another situation where such a thing was called for. The question remained, what were they going to do with their lives from here on out? Were they going to stay on this pattern, and do nothing with that? Would they change to a new pattern? Would they drop it entirely, and start fresh in 2250? Would they return to their respective time periods, or maybe choose some other time period together?

“Well, should we vote on it, or just discuss what everyone wants, and see where we end up?” Leona put forth.

“Yeah, let’s just talk about it,” Angela suggested.

Silence.

“Who wants to go first?” Olimpia broke the ice.

“I’m cool with whatever everyone else wants to do,” Jeremy volunteered.

“Yeah, me too,” and “agreed” were the responses bandied about. It would seem they quite enjoyed helping people transition, but if that was no longer necessary, there wasn’t much reason to do anything else.

“I think we should go back to the past, and continue doing what we do,” Leona began, “whether it’s by transitioning people, or not. We could help the Salmon Runners put right what once went wrong, or join another transition team under Past!Nerakali’s purview. Hell, we could join the salmon battalion, I don’t know.” It actually kind of sounded like she didn’t want to do anything.

Mateo decided to allow her the possibility of doing nothing without making her vocalize it. “Or we could just stay here in The Parallel. I’m sure there’s a planet suited for our whims, where we could live forever, and not worry about responsibility anymore.” It was a selfish offer, but not unwarranted. All of them did deserve it, for what they had been through. Had they not given enough to the worlds already?

The others stood there awkwardly, and did not want to argue.

Mateo still had to be the bad guy. “Okay, let’s do that. We could always go back to a life of service later. Let’s just suppress all patterns, find a nice little planet to call home, and relax for a little bit. Or we could travel. There’s no rush. There’s no rush to do anything.”

“I’m not opposed to this plan,” Jeremy finally agreed. “Like the man said, we can always change our minds later. We have the cuffs, plenty of people here have powers.”

“I can do that,” Angela said.

“Yeah, sure,” Olimpia confirmed.

Leona just nodded. She wanted this more than any of them probably, but was too used to helping people to admit it. That was fine.

“Unfortunately, that’s not how this works,” came a voice from above. A man was climbing down the steps from the upper level.

It took Mateo a hot second to recognize him. They had met him a few times before, but were never close, and there were so many faces to remember these days. “Anatol.” The Warrior. He used to go around the timeline, killing people. Though, time travel being what it was, used to wasn’t a real concept. Which version was this one here?

“Yes, it’s me.”

“I know why you’re here,” Leona said.

“Yes,” Anatol went on. “I have been waiting to come to you for a long time now. Of course, I didn’t have to wait, but I had some other things I wanted to make sure got taken care of, and I didn’t want to cross paths with Nerakali.”

“Who is this?” Jeremy questioned. “Who are you?”

“This is the man that killed Nerakali Preston,” Mateo explained. “I pushed her over the edge of her last life, but he actually dealt the final blow. Now he has her powers. More to the point, he has Jupiter’s powers.”

“That’s right,” Anatol concurred. “I’m here to replace her, after she replaced him.”

“What does that mean?” Leona asked. “What kind of...?” She hesitated to continue.

“What kind of boss am I?” he presumed. “I’m pretty cool, but I do have a different...mission.”

“You’re going to have us kill people, aren’t you?” Mateo assumed.

“I’m going to have you correct the timeline in a way that you’re not used to doing,” Anatol pretended to clarify. “You can call it killing, if you want. I would probably also call it that.”

“I’m not going to be killing anybody,” Olimpia declared.

“The rule is, kill or be killed.” Anatol took a blade out of its sheath. It wasn’t the Sword of Assimilation, but it was just as deadly. “I’m a pretty cool boss...to a point. That...I—that wasn’t meant to be a play on words. But seriously, this is what I’ve decided, so it’s what’s happening. And the sword really is a threat. I have no strong feelings about you people. I’m not sure I know the names of you three there.”

“Well, you probably should know their names if you’re going to boss them around, and threaten their lives,” Leona figured.

“Don’t worry about that,” Mateo said. “He’s not staying.”

“Oh no?” Anatol was confused.

“I challenge you to a duel.”

“Are you serious?” Anatol couldn’t believe it. “Like a...air hockey duel, or something?”

“No. Swords,” Mateo corrected. “I challenge you to a sword duel.”

“That’s stupid, Mateo; I’ll destroy you.”

“Prove it,” Mateo said simply. “You kill me, you get to take the primary cuff, and order my team around. I kill you, and you leave us alone forever.”

Anatol wasn’t going to argue about it anymore. There was no doubt that he could beat Mateo, and there was no getting around this fact. If they were normal people, maybe Mateo could sneak a gun into the duel, and just kill him, and it wouldn’t matter anymore, because the threat would be eliminated. But Anatol couldn’t die, and Mateo didn’t think he could die permanently anymore either, so there seemed to be only one outcome to this story. There was no cheating, and no loophole. Mateo had to magically become the better swordsman, fair and square. “Fine. Deal.”

“Could we have a minute?” Leona requested.

“You can have three hundred and sixty minutes. Meet on Uluru at that time. We’ll transition to the main sequence there. Eat a good lunch. It will be your last.” Anatol disappeared.

“I thought he wasn’t so violent anymore,” Leona said once he was gone. “Didn’t you change him? If he has Nerakali’s powers, he has to be the version of him that changed.”

“He never really changed,” Mateo pointed out. “I think he just started choosing his victims differently.”

“What are you going to do?” Leona asked, shaking her head. “He’s right, you can’t defeat him.”

Mateo smiled. “I don’t have to. There’s not going to be any duel. I just needed to distract him.”

“He’s a time traveler,” Leona argued. “He can’t be distracted. Or rather, it doesn’t matter how long he’s distracted. He can always come back to the past.”

Mateo smirked, and looked around. “I don’t see him, returned from the future to ask me why I never showed up.”

“How are you going to stop him?” Jeremy asked. “Or how did you? Or how have you will?”

“Yeah,” Mateo said. He rested his chin on his palm, and smiled pensively at the corner of the ship. “How did I do that?”

The others looked between him, and the wall he was staring at, but there was nothing there. He never explained what he was talking about, and they quickly dropped the subject. They decided to program their cuffs to suppress all patterns, and keep them in the present moment at all times, at least for now. They then went to what passed for a library in this reality, and searched the directory for a new home. They tried all kinds of search parameters, switching them out when they thought of something better. They only kept the basic criteria, like a regular spherical planet orbiting a yellow dwarf with comparable Earthan surface gravity, and of course, a breathable atmosphere.

“Let’s get away,” Olimpia finally suggested. “Let’s find a remote world, in a distant galaxy, far from the reach of this Warrior guy. Let those be our only requirements.”

The team considered it. “That makes sense,” Leona agreed. “Just because he doesn’t try to get back to us in the past, doesn’t mean he won’t try to show up later.”

Angela typed in what they were looking for. “The farthest inhabited galaxy, which means it has at least one Nexus, is Krovow. Also known as the Sculptor Galaxy, or Silver Coin, or NGC-253, in the main sequence, this spiral galaxy is eleven-point-five-six light years from the Milky Way. The best planet I’m seeing here is called Flindekeldan.”

They looked over her shoulder at the specifications. It seemed a pretty good spot to escape to, if not live there semi-permanently. “We’ll send a message to Ramses,” Mateo said, “and ask him to prevent Anatol from being allowed to use the Nexa. There’s no way he’s traveling eleven light years on his own, unless he kills The Trotter at some point.”

They didn’t waste much time. They jumped the AOC back to the Nexus, gave the technician their coordinates, and asked that they be erased from the computer’s memory after they were gone. The technician agreed, though whether that was good enough was anyone’s guess. The only way to truly know information has been erased is by physically destroying the storage hardware, preferably by dismantling it at the atomic level.

They arrived on the other side just fine, but still, they were nervous. They crept out of the ship carefully, almost expecting Anatol Klugman to be waiting for them, having gone back in time, and arrived in a relativistic ship. It would have taken him over sixteen-thousand years at maximum sublight, but it wasn’t impossible. He wasn’t there, though, and everything seemed all right. The world was a beautiful place, at least it was where they landed, right next to a creek. They weren’t next to the Nexus building. It wasn’t necessary, because the egress window could drop them off wherever; it was just impossible to jump this far without starting at a Nexus. Still, it was kind of strange. The technician would have had to deliberately input slightly altered coordinates, rather than going with the default.

A woman stood before them, waiting patiently for them to climb down. “Greetings. Welcome to Flindekeldan. I am Crucia Heavy, Zora Loncar.”

“That is a Croatian name,” Mateo whispered to Leona.

“Hello, Crucia Heavy, my name is Leona Matic. This is my husband, Mateo Matic, and friends, Jeremy Bearimy, Angela Walton, and Olimpia Sangster. We hope we’re not intruding. We were looking for a new place to live, and this sounded like a great spot.”

Zora smiled. “We know why you are here. Everyone comes here to get away. It’s about as far as you can get without having to settle a new world on your own. That’s why we have no Nexus.”

“There’s no Nexus?” Olimpia questioned. “We can’t go back.”

Zora sighed, satisfied. “No need to. This is your home now. Come. I will show you around.”

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