Microstory 2175: Belly in the Saucer

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A few weeks ago, I had a bird problem. House sparrows were nesting above my balcony, and a few of the baby birds almost died, so I first had to save them so they could grow up and fledge away. Once they were gone, I sealed up the gap underneath the next ceiling to prevent them from nesting there again. Today, an adolescent sparrow perched on the railing of my balcony. It sat there for a pretty long time, jerking its little neck around, looking for either food or danger. There’s no way to know this, but I felt like it was one of the nestlings that I stuck back up with their brothers and sisters, come home to see the old place. I know that birds can’t feel nostalgic. At least, I think I know that, I don’t know for sure. Do they? In all likelihood, it was a completely unrelated bird who just wanted to be there in that moment. But perhaps not. Perhaps it could remember my scent (even though I wore gloves) and knew that I was not a threat to it. I opened the door to see how close I could get, pretty confident that just the sound of the latch would be enough to scare it off, but I was wrong. It stuck around, and just watched me. I shut the door, once again sure that it would be too startled by the noise, but when I turned back around, it was still there. It might have hopped over a few centimeters, but other than that, it was totally chill. I sat down at my little table, and took out my phone to catch up on the headlines. That’s pretty much all I do, just skim the news stories without reading any of the stories in depth. If it’s a good headline, it tells you all you need to know, and if it’s not, the full story probably isn’t worth reading anyway. If it’s a topic that I’m particularly interested in, then I will tap on it, though. The bird, meanwhile, stayed there. At one point, I reached behind myself to the corner where I keep one of my plants, and removed the drip saucer from underneath. It was totally dry, which probably means that I should water the plant, even though it looked fine. I set the saucer on the table, and scooted it away from me, closer to the bird. I don’t know what it’s like to be a bird, but their legs and feet are so tiny. I would think that they would get tired of standing on them, and even more tired of perching. I thought maybe it could rest on its belly in the saucer. It was a stupid idea. It didn’t understand that that’s what I intended, so it didn’t get in, but that would have made for a cooler story, wouldn’t it have? There’s really no point to anything I’m saying. I thought that it was just a nice little innocuous anecdote to tell you while I’m on my mini-vacation. If you didn’t like it, maybe my next post will be more interesting. Oh, and speaking of which, I now have a million subscribers to my blog, so there’s that too. Okay, talk later!

The Advancement of Mateo Matic: November 23, 2398

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The outreach team turned northward with Aquila, and headed for Costa Rica to rendezvous with an extraction team. While they were on their way, Alyssa came to them in the Bridgette to pick up Leona, Marie, and Aquila. Marie could see the frustration in the eyes of the three other members of her SD6 teammates. They’re being left out of the real mission again, and it’s getting to them. That could be something that she has to deal with down the road. Her loyalties are split. That is a known issue for all SD6 employees.

They’re back in Kansas City now, with all eyes on Aquila to make sure she doesn’t try to escape them again. She seemed to have gone to a lot of trouble to make contact, so an outsider might think that she wouldn’t do that, but it’s actually what worries them the most. Why didn’t she just call them on the phone? “I don’t own a phone,” she jokes.

“Sit down,” Marie orders.

“This is a big table for the three of us,” Aquila muses. “Where did Leona run off to? She’s the only one I really need to talk to about this.”

“It’s not just for us.”

They’re in the conference room on the ground level of the lab, which was originally designed to be cut in half. Visitors were meant to come in from the outside, and discuss the pandemic without going through quarantine. The other half was for people working with the pathogen downstairs, who didn’t want to spend time coming out of quarantine. The hermetic seal has been broken, because they currently have no use for it. Now there’s just one big table that everyone can sit around. Ramses comes in first, tapping away at his tablet, surely working on another one of his Reed Richards inventions that won’t see the light of day beyond these walls. Behind him are Winona and Kivi, followed by Vearden and Arcadia. Cheyenne is next, carefully holding the Insulator of Life, which will allow them to interface with the real Bhulan trapped inside with no body to go to.

As they’re finding their seats, Leona returns. A part of her is smiling, but she’s not showing it. Aquila is going to talk, whether she wants to or not. They’re finally going to get some real answers, instead of just last second messages before someone loses their memory, or brief interactions with someone before they run away. Curtis walks in last, and sits directly across from her, so they can begin. He has an odd look on his face, and he will not turn away from Aquila. It’s like he’s more invested in this than anyone, but that can’t be. He doesn’t have anything to do with this.

Ramses stops what he’s doing, and hooks the Insulator up to a monitor. Bhulan appears on it, sitting at a virtual desk, as if merely conferencing in from the San Francisco office. Aquila grimaces at her. “Awkward.”

Ramses sits at the head, places his elbows on the table, and interlocks his fingers. He glances over at Leona, who gives him a nod. “Where is Mateo Matic; my best friend, Leona’s husband, and your brother?”

“I know who you’re talking about. What is this, a deposition? You don’t have to be so formal, do you?” Aquila questions.

“Unclear,” Ramses replies. “You dodged the question to crack a joke, so...you’re sure acting like a defendant.”

“I didn’t hurt him. I didn’t do anything to him. I know how you get him back.”

“I didn’t ask how we get him back; I asked where he was. You avoid the question one more time, and there will be consequences.”

“What kind of consequences could you possibly—”

Marie reaches over with the Livewire, and taps Aquila on the head. It gives her a shock, but it’s not sending an electrical charge into her. It’s trying to pull her mind into it. She didn’t leave it there long enough to do lasting damage, and that’s what hurts. It would be like poking someone with a needle several times, instead of just stabbing them once, and drawing blood the right way.

“Answer the question,” Ramses demands. “I won’t ask it again.”

Aquila literally bites her bottom lip, desperately wanting to ask them where they get off torturing people, but recognizing that she’s not in a position to push these people. They want their friend back, and that has melted the ethical boundaries that would normally prevent them from taking things this far. He’s in a stasis capsule located in Phoenix 15-236P7 Marathon-Algae-Temple.”

“What the hell does that mean?” Alyssa asks, very confused.

“There could be thousands of objects in that bubble,” Leona complains.

“If you get close enough, you’ll see him,” Aquila explains.

“Can someone tell us what Phoenix fifteen-whatever is?” Vearden asks. He looks over at Arcadia, who shrugs, because she doesn’t know either.

“There are trillions of celestial objects in the Oort Cloud,” Leona begins. “Even in the main sequence, it will be centuries before we catalog and track them all. For now, the best we can do is estimate regions of space based on direction and distance. Phoenix is the constellation where you wanna look for your target. It’s 15,236.7 astronomical units away. He’s somewhere in there, or at least he was...four billion years ago. There’s no telling where he is now. Like I said, we can’t track them. We don’t have the data.”

“No, that is where he is now,” Aquila counters. “It’s stationary. All you have to do is look for a planetesimal in that bubble that doesn’t move.”

“Well, that would make it easier, but still not easy,” Leona says.

“Your ship can do it.” Aquila looks over at Ramses. “The AI you stole from The Constant can do it.”

Whatever, Ramses doesn’t feel any shame about that. “Well, we’ll look there. In the meantime, we have some more questions.”

“I’ve given this a lot of thought,” Aquila begins. “I’ve decided to tell you everything. I’m not supposed to...I’m not allowed to...but no one can stop me, right?” She shoots arrows at Curtis.

Curtis stares back for a moment, then looks over at Cheyenne. He stays on her for an even shorter amount of time before turning towards Arcadia and Vearden. “Take care of your daughter. She’s more important than you ever hoped to be.” He jumps up on the table, and dives towards Marie. He takes the Livewire from her, and jams it against Aquila’s—Bhulan’s—head. He doesn’t hold onto the insulation, though. His hand is touching the wire, so he’s being affected by it too. No one can pull him off of her, or they’ll be shocked by it just as much. In seconds, it’s over. They both fall onto the floor, but Curtis manages to get up, while Aquila looks dead.

“What did you do?” Cheyenne asks, horrified and confused.

“I can’t let her talk, I’m sorry.” Curtis looks at the crowd. “To all of you.” He looks out the window, and teleports away, but he doesn’t get as far as he thought he would.

The Advancement of Mateo Matic: October 26, 2398

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For the first time in a long time, the whole team is back together, heavy a few extra people. They all came into the city at about the same time, but they didn’t meet at the hotel suite, or the Lofts, or the condo. The government has a facility for this sort of thing already in the area. It’s a sanctuary for negotiations, where members of opposing sides can come together, and figure out how to solve their conflict nonviolently. It’s stocked with food, water, and other basic amenities, but it’s nothing fancy. There isn’t even a security system in place. That’s expected to be up to the guests, should they feel the need for it. In this case, they don’t, and they’re not even really dealing with enemies. They just need to ask a few people a few questions.

Marie flew in from Manila with a woman named Divina Tiongson. The latter called the authorities on the former. They took her in for some psychiatric care, which Marie actually felt was helpful and refreshing. Divina came to visit during her stay, and after some explanation on Marie’s part, admitted that while she doesn’t know anything about time travel, she has memories that are not her own. In a few cases, she can recall entire lifetimes that other people presumably experienced for real. She’s always believed that these visions meant that she was crazy, and never told anyone for that reason.

Bhulan agreed to follow Alyssa back from the site of Springfield, Kansas, but made no promises in regards to whatever questions the team might try to ask her. They probably can’t compel her to comply, but Fax!Mateo is a different story. The version of Mateo who came out of stasis months ago, and has been living here with his wife, knows what buttons to push. For one, Fax!Mateo will never be able to be with Leona, unless they can find some other version of her who would be interested in that, so that’s a weakness they should be able to exploit. He thought he was going to be able to get away in the Constant, but Ramses still had enough temporal energy in him to teleport to his location, and capture him. The reason they didn’t use it to get to Lebanon in the first place was because they needed to save it for their exit from the Facsimile. Fortunately, the Constant gave him just enough of a boost to transport all three of them back to Kansas City, where they exited the Salmonday Club with time to spare.

“Does she need to be here?” Fax!Mateo asks, in regards to Divina.

“You have a problem with her?” Leona asks him.

“Why are there two of you?” Fax!Mateo questions.

“Uh...I’m Arcadia, actually,” the other person wearing Leona’s face explains.

“Of course you are,” Fax!Mateo says.

“You need to turn your attitude off,” Mateo scolds.

“Forgive me for waking up in a world where my wife doesn’t love me, and I’ve missed out on months of my life. What makes you so special? When this Facsimile thing was created, why did I end up over there, and you managed to stay on the correct side?”

“You tell us,” Leona says. “You’re the one who remembers what happened in the Constant, however long ago in the past. Why were you in stasis at all?”

“I’m not saying a word,” Fax!Mateo insists. “It is far too early for that.” He can’t help but glance over at Bhulan.

“Just as I suspected,” Leona goes on. “You were there too, and your memory is intact as well. Tell us what’s going on here. Why don’t we have any time powers, or transhumanistic enhancements?”

“Who told you that my memory is intact?” Bhulan asks her.

“Oh, wouldn’t that just be super convenient,” Alyssa muses. She’s really embracing her new role on the team now.

“We have two psychics,” Leona warns her, pointing to both Arcadia and Kivi.

“I’m busy with another project with SD6,” Kivi says. “And to that, I can only stay a short while.”

“My baby is too far along,” Arcadia reveals. “The only thoughts I’ll be reading will be hers, and her mine. I can’t risk interfering with her development.”

“I didn’t know that’s how it worked,” Leona says to her.

“That’s what Dr. Hammer hypothesizes,” Arcadia adds. “There haven’t been many studies on the development of children from mothers with psychic abilities.”

“That’s fine,” Mateo says. “Bhulan is going to tell us what she knows because it’s the right thing to do, not because someone invades her mind.”

“Oh, you know me so well,” Bhulan says sarcastically.

Mateo reaches across the table towards her, but doesn’t touch her. “I don’t want you to become an enemy. I find it annoying every time that happens. The Anatol Klugman thing was heartbreaking.” He stands up, and starts pacing like this is his room, and they’re all his guests. He places both hands on Arcadia’s shoulders. “I much prefer accumulating friends.”

Bhulan pantomimes chewing gum, just because she’s uncomfortable sitting still. She’s a bit of a fidgeter. She doesn’t speak at first, but it’s clear that she’s about to, so everyone just waits patiently. “I can only tell you my story. I won’t say anything about anyone else, and I’ll be as vague as I must to protect their identities.”

“Very well,” Mateo agrees. “Its a start.”

“I was in the main sequence,” Bhulan begins, “when I found myself in the company of Horace Reaver, Serkan Demir, and Paige Turner. They were in possession of the hundemarke, and they wanted to destroy it. For those of you who don’t know, the hundemarke creates fixed moments in time. If activated, it will protect every event that occurs within its spatial bubble, no matter how much time travel tries to interfere with it. This means that it can’t be destroyed under normal circumstances. You can’t just throw it in the fire, and watch it burn. As soon as you let go, the hundemarke will deactivate, and that moment will have the potential to be changed. And with something so powerful and important, it will be changed. Someone will want to stop it from being destroyed, even if they’re born a trillion years from then.

“Therefore, if you want to destroy it, you have to destroy yourself along with it, so that it remains activated the entire time. You use the power of the object against itself, it’s the only way it’ll happen. So that’s what I did. I was a trespasser from an old timeline, and I decided that my sacrifice was worth it, and that I was worthy. I don’t know if what we believed about it was untrue, or if I was just the wrong person to try it, but my plan failed. I jumped into the fire, and landed in this reality, unburned.”

“In that parking lot,” Alyssa figures.

“No,” Leona says, shaking her head. “The parking lot didn’t exist yet.” She points at Bhulan knowingly. “You landed in The Constant. You were with Danica Matic.”

“I can neither confirm nor deny that I was with The Concierge in the Constant.”

“That’s a yes,” Vearden claims. “That always means yes.”

“Forgive me,” Winona interjects, “but is this what’s most important right now? I have a prisoner in my custody who needs to be dealt with. If you can get him out of my universe, I would be fine with that, but I can’t be responsible for him forever.”

“I need to talk to everyone about that,” Kivi says. “Well...not everyone.”

That’s fair. They are not getting anywhere with these extra people around. The core group needs to peel off, and discuss things on their own. They all trust Winona by now, but she doesn’t need to be involved, so maybe she would agree to guard the others for them. Or maybe not guard them, but keep watch over them, so they don’t get lost in this five room building. “Is there somewhere we can go?” Leona asks her.

“Down the hall, to the left.” Winona stays seated, like she knows what Leona needs out of her.

Leona, Mateo, Ramses, Marie, Alyssa, Kivi, Vearden, and Arcadia leave the room, and go to the other conference. Arcadia doesn’t even hesitate, which is a big step for her. She’s learning. Leona waits a moment to speak. “We have a plan to kill Meredarchos and Erlendr. I won’t go through with it, though, if anyone here can come up with a good reason why we shouldn’t, besides the obvious fact that killing is a no-no.”

“Well, for one, Cheyenne is still alive,” Kivi finally tells them.

“Excuse me?” Leona asks.

“She’s in that victim’s body right now, along with the other two. She hides in his subconscious. I’ve been reaching out when I can, but the longer I stay in the triple mind, the easier it is for him to find me. That wouldn’t be a big deal, but if he finds me, he finds her, and I can’t let that happen. We have to get her out before we do anything else to that body, but I don’t know where she could go.”

“We still have Andile’s body on life support,” Ramses throws out there. “We have Leona Reaver’s body too, though we’re planning on getting rid of it, so I wouldn’t call that a good long-term strategy.”

“I can’t believe we’re talking about trading bodies around like they’re cars. Has anyone considered the ethical ramifications of all of this?” Alyssa asks.

“Yes,” Leona answers. “History’s top ethicists debated it for centuries before it was possible, decades once it was, and continued to regulate it as necessary. No one takes this technology lightly. I appreciate and recognize your concern. Andile signed away her body to do with it what we need. I firmly believe that she would agree to donate it to Cheyenne in a heartbeat.”

“The last time we tried to use the Insulator of Life and Livewire in this way,” Ramses begins, “it didn’t go so well. We have to figure out how to get one consciousness out of a body shared by two others, and not accidentally pull in those other two.”

“That’s what Kivi is for,” Arcadia believes. “She’s already described performing head dives. Use her in tandem with the temporal objects.”

“Okay,” Leona says. “Assuming we succeed in that endeavor, I’ll ask again; is anyone opposed to executing the prisoner via intervening fate.”

Divina opens the door. “You won’t be killing him. Meredarchos is not on this world. He’s safe and sound in his own universe, reaching out psychically. That’s how he always does it. He doesn’t have the ability to travel the bulk physically.”

They all stare at her. Why did Winona let her leave?

Divina sighs, realizing that she has to start being honest. “All right, I may know a little more than I let on before.”

The Advancement of Mateo Matic: August 28, 2398

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While the agency continues their search for Erlendr Preston, who is still in the body of Ramses Abdulrashid, Leona and Ramses continue their work on the timonite. It has gotten them just about nowhere. Since Mateo coughed it up in Lebanon, there is very little they have been able to learn about the thing. It doesn’t respond to temperature or pressure changes. It doesn’t refract light, or interact with immortality water. Despite its beautiful, and sometimes mesmerizing, appearance, and the unusual route they took to find it, it just appears to be a regular rock. It does feel a long lighter than they would expect, given its size, but perhaps that’s more about how important it is to them.

Mateo has come up to the lab to check on them? “Hey, wadya know?” 

They don’t know much. It’s technicolor, which implies a connection to the greater bulk. It’s impossible to cut, even using lasers, so that’s both an interesting fact, and why they have not been able to learn anything else. There must be some loophole. There must be a way to do something with it, because it can’t just be a really pretty paperweight.

“You cleaned it, right?” Mateo admires it, sitting on its little display stand.

“Since it was in your stomach? Yes, husband.”

“Whoa, I thought you were Ramses,” Mateo jokes. “Hold on...who did I sleep with last night?”

“Trying to lighten the mood,” Ramses presumes. Nice try. This is pretty depressing work.”

“Maybe it’s alive. Have you tried to feed it?” Mateo reaches out to poke it like a middle schooler at the museum of natural history. He doesn’t tap on it very hard, or it would fall off the pedestal, but it doesn’t matter, because it sticks to his finger like a magnet. He instinctively tries to flick it off with his other finger, but it only makes things worse.

“What the hell is happening?” Either Leona or Ramses questions.

What Mateo said before was a joke, but he’s not looking at them, so he genuinely can’t tell who said that. He’s too focused on getting the stone off of his fingers. He shakes it like you’re not supposed to shake a Polaroid picture, but it won’t come off. He tries to pull it off with his other hand, knowing that it’s not going to work, but desperate and not thinking clearly. The stone melts in his hands, and separates in half. The molten rock wraps itself completely around Mateo’s hand and fingers, and threatens to flow higher up on his arms. “Oh my God! It’s Venom! I’m Venom! Stay back, I’m gonna bite your head off!” But then it stops. “Oh, wait. Wait, I think I’m fine.” His hands are now technicolor and kind of sparkly, but otherwise, they just look like hands.

Leona and Ramses are staring at him in concern. “How do you feel?” she asks.

“I feel fine.”

“Does it...tingle, or hurt?” Ramses asks, ready to take notes, as always.

“It doesn’t feel like anything,” Mateo replies. “I can’t even tell that it’s there.” Without thinking, he leans back on the table beside him, and sets his hand down upon it. A pool of technicolor liquid comes out, and begins to overwhelm the desk, and everything on it. Once the entire top is covered, it all disappears, but it doesn’t manage to take any of the legs, so they just fall down, unsupported.

“Ramses, can you track that?” Leona questions.

Ramses grabs his tablet, and taps through the menus. “It’s off the charts.”

“What does that mean?” Mateo asks, making sure that he doesn’t touch anything else, including his own face, which of course, now itches quite a bit.

“Wherever you sent that stuff, it’s beyond the borders of our reality. I can’t track things that go to other realities, or...”

“Or what?” Mateo prompts.

“Or other universes,” Ramses finishes.

“You are wearing technicolor hands now,” Leona notes.

“Oh, yeah, just say it like it’s normal,” Mateo says sarcastically. He calms down a notch or two. “What was on that table?”

“Not much,” Leona explains. “Just some basic equipment, and a high-powered microscope.”

“That’s not all,” Ramses remembers.

“What?” Leona asks.

“My copy of your fusion work. That was on there too. That was all there. I didn’t think something like this would happen.”

They don’t know if that’s really bad, really good, or maybe doesn’t matter. If it landed at the bottom of the ocean, or an uninhabited world, or somewhere in the middle of outer space, it could be fine. It could also change the course of history for the entire population of some unsuspecting universe out there. They may never know. All they know right now is that Mateo can’t touch anything for the time being, not even his own clothes. Within minutes, he’s completely naked. This is gonna be a problem.

The Advancement of Mateo Matic: August 13, 2398

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Mateo, Marie, and Alyssa are sitting on one side of the table, trying not to look up at the overly bright bulb above. The others have yet to arrive. Alyssa is noticeably nervous, bouncing her knee, and cracking her knuckles. They know that she’s under a lot of stress, so they don’t want to say anything, but this isn’t the kind of behavior that she should be displaying when that door opens. “It’s okay,” he assures her.

“What?” She didn’t even notice what she was doing.

“Are you gonna be able to handle this?” Marie asks her.

“Yes, I’m fine, it’s fine. It’s just...this is the government, but kind of not?”

“That’s the best way to describe it,” Marie says. “They’re sanctioned, but...not everyone who expects to know what they’re doing actually knows what they’re doing. It’s a special kind of covert.”

“And you’re one of them, but no one can know.”

“Yes, you can’t tell anyone,” Marie confirms.

“I can do that. I can keep secrets. I basically raised Trina, and the boys, though less so. You learn how to lie when you have kids.”

Mateo places a hand on her shoulder. “She has to see what you can do, that’s the only reason you’re here. We wouldn’t involve you with this side of things if we had a choice. Sometimes I wish I didn’t know anything about these people.”

Winona comes in, followed by two men, one of which appears submissive, and maybe about as nervous as Alyssa. “Sorry we’re late.”

“It’s my fault,” the nervous one says.

“We’re fine,” Marie promises.

“Yes, it’s all right, Tate. You’re not losing my job.” She faces the members of Team Matic that are present. Mateo starts to think about this. They only ever called it that because most of the members used that name, but now they have multiple Waltons, and multiple McIvers. So it just sounds self-serving.

“Snap out of it,” Marie orders him, reaching across Alyssa’s face to literally snap her fingers in front of his.

Winona laughs. “He does do that, doesn’t he?”

“He’s waiting for the narrator to finish talking,” Marie explains cryptically.

Winona doesn’t know what that means. She was never briefed on the whole Superintendent thing. “As I was going to say, this is my assistant, Tate. He’s afraid of his own shadow, so you can speak freely around him, and he won’t tell anyone.”

Mateo leans forward. “If he really is so afraid, then don’t forget to be nice.”

“I am,” Winona says. “He’s not just loyal to me, I’m loyal to him. The way I see it, that’s what separates us from the bad guys. Speaking of which...” She turns to look at the other man. “...this is Timofey Putin.”

Mateo is surprised by this name. He tries to exchange a look with Marie, but she’s not fazed at all. He’s the only one balking at it.

“What is it?” Winona asks, concerned.

“We really can speak freely here?” he asks.

“Yes, Timofey knows. Marie okayed him a month ago, even before all of this.”

“Vladimir Putin is the name of a historical President of Russia where I come from. He’s...well, he’s a bad guy.”

“Interesting,” Winona begins. “I said, speaking of bad guys, because that’s what he used to be. He was a spy, but he’s recently defected. We believe, however, that his people do not yet know, which is why he could be a great asset to you on your mission. I mean, I don’t know why you’re on the mission, or what this has to do with everything that you are, but that’s why we’re here today, right? Anyone want tea?”

“We’re fine,” Marie says. “Please, sit.”

They sit down. Tate pours himself a glass of water, spilling it from the pitcher, from the glass, and out of his mouth, right down his shirt; all three, a turkey. Alyssa can’t help but giggle. For a moment, no one speaks.

“Does this have to do with that fancy hat you’re wearing?” Winona asks, looking at Mateo.

“You don’t know what that is?” Marie asks her.

“I believe it’s called a fumbler?”

Marie laughs. “Alyssa, are you ready to remove it from Mateo’s head, and place it upon yours?”

Alyssa first looks at Marie, then turns her head to look at Mateo, and then turns back. “Any requests?”

“Her,” Marie answers, nodding towards Winona.

“Is this going to hurt?” Winona asks.

“Not if you hold still, and give Tate a raise.”

Winona cracks a smile. “Fine. Three percent.”

Tate is more scared than anyone.

Alyssa takes a deep breath before taking the hat. She immediately transforms into a mirror image of Winona, complete with the same clothing she’s wearing right now. She adjusts her position to match too, which is a trick they didn’t know she had until yesterday.

“You can move again,” Marie says as Winona is doing everything she can to hold back a gasp.

She adjusts herself, and Alyssa continues to match in realtime, like a true mirror. It’s just something that she can feel. When she creates an illusion of someone who is still alive and kicking, she also creates some kind of connection to them. Ramses figures that she could match Winona’s movements from the other side of the planet if she wanted to. It’s not necessarily just an image. It’s...her. This is important, because they need to convince people that she’s someone else, both in how they look superficially, and how they move around. Everyone has their own gait, their own way of itching the back of their head, or pushing their glasses up the bridge of their nose. Even holding up the wrong specific fingers to gesture a quantity could give her away. She has to look and act like her target at all times, or people might get suspicious, even if they could never guess that it has something to do with a time power illusion.

“I do not understand how that works,” Winona laments. “I thought all powers had to do with time in some way.”

“Time and space,” Marie clarifies. “You’re in that space over there, so she is superimposing everything in that space over what is in her space. It’s all about the movement of light.”

“Fascinating,” Timofey finally speaks, and does it in his thick Russian accent. “I have heard the stories, but to actually see it... Is there more you could show us?”

The Advancement of Mateo Matic: August 4, 2398

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Certain that the team would make new friends, or reunite with old ones, Ramses bought a gigantic table for the common room on the third floor. This is the kind of thing that you see in castles, where two people who married only for political purposes sit on either end, forcing their servant to make the ungodly trip several times throughout the meal. It comes in at five meters long, which is over sixteen feet in a measuring system that no one in this reality uses. It was hauled up here through the window, since it was custom made as a single piece, and had no way of fitting in the elevator. It’s designed to accommodate eighteen people, which is good, because they have fifteen at the moment. Vearden!Three joined them yesterday after being spotted, tracked, and recruited by Alyssa McIver, with assistance by Carlin McIver. They’re all gathered ‘round for a nice dinner, prepared by Heath, Andile, and the three youngest McIvers.

There was nothing particularly special about today, besides Vearden’s arrival, and some people were sort of maybe just a little bit worried about the possibility of these massive group dinners becoming a regular thing. Not everyone was available yesterday to hear Vearden’s story, so he tells it again at the urging of the children, who want to hear it again, since they’re still excited about this time travel stuff. “After the other Vearden—who I now know to have been Leona and her friends in a clone of me?—took my place on Tribulation Island, I took the map, and headed for Jupiter.”

“He means a person named Jupiter, not the planet,” young Moray makes sure they all know.

“Right,” Vearden agrees kindly. “So I find him, and he tells me that my work isn’t done yet. He says that I have one more thing to do before I can relax. He agreed to send me to when and wherever I wanted to go for my retirement, which I’m not sure I’m going to do. I mean, what does that even mean for people like us? This isn’t a job, it’s a lifestyle, right? Anyway, he asked me to open a door. Now, I don’t know if you realize this, but that whole opening doors to other points in spacetime isn’t something that I was truly ever able to do. I did it in order to find the other Vearden on Tribulation Island, but I was pretty sure I had help. But I did as he asked, and on the other side of that door was Jupiter again. They gave each other a knowing look, like it was all planned out. After I closed the door behind me, the second Jupiter handed me this necklace, and pushed me out of the window. I landed on my feet in a parking lot, so far from other buildings that it had to be some kind of portal.”

“So Jupiter can transition people from the Third Rail too,” Mateo muses. “He could bring us back if he wanted. Or Nerakali could, or The Warrior.”

“One of them would have to know that we’re even here,” Ramses believes.

“They might not be able to even then, though,” Angela reasons. “I’m starting to get the feeling that coming here is a hell of a lot easier than leaving.”

“That makes sense,” Marie says.

“Let me see the necklace,” Leona Matic requests of Vearden.

“Okay, sure.” Vearden takes it off, and hands it to her.

She examines it, with her eyes, and with her fingers. She holds it open like the start of Cat’s Cradle. She tries to ball it up, but it’s not really flexible enough. Finally she twists the clasp open, and separates the two ends, peering at one of them. “There is something in here.” She pinches it, and delicately begins to pull out the wire. As she does so, it grows thicker, like a cartoon. The casing is apparently bigger on the inside. The length appears to be the same as the circumference of the necklace, though. Once it’s free, they all look at what appears to just be a regular metal wire, though with an unusual greenish coloring.

“Oh, it’s the Livewire,” comes Mateo’s voice, but it’s not from the one sitting at the table. Alt!Mateo has come in, arm in a sling, and a bandage still around his forehead.

“Self,” the other Mateo begins, “you’ve decided to join us?”

“I realized that I had some unfinished business here.” Alt!Mateo glances over at Leona Reaver, but quickly corrects himself.

“You called this the Livewire,” Leona Matic says. “What does that mean?”

“No idea,” Alt!Mateo answers with a shrug. “That’s just what my friend, Gilbert called it. He didn’t say anything else.”

“You knew Gilbert Boyce?” Leona questions.

“Yeah, you too?”

She sighs and scoffs. As far as they were aware, Gilbert Boyce had nothing to do with anything in the timeline that this version of Mateo is from.

The other Mateo gets a better look at the thing. “Has anyone else noticed how familiar that shade of green is?”

“Yeah, I noticed,” Marie concurs.

“You’re right,” Ramses decides. “It looks like the Insulator of Life, which I guess makes sense since that’s what glass insulators do, hold wires in place.”

“Okay, fine!” Leona Delaney cries. “I’ll help you make it work!”

“Leona, what are you talking about?” her friend, Andile questions.

“If you get the Insulator of Life, I will help you work it. But you have to promise to give it right back to the person who’s using it right now.”

“Keep going,” Andile urges.

“Okay, I met The Dealer several years ago, Andile, when we got separated. He asked me if I needed the Insulator, and of course, I didn’t, because I was only living one day out of the year at the time. He asked me to help him find a worthy successor, and I’m like, what do I know about that? But I actually did find someone. She was a visitor to this time, and she didn’t belong, but she was going to die before she got back to her rightful place in the timeline, so I connected them, and I never saw either of them again. I didn’t know that this senator’s daughter had anything to do with it, I promise.”

“Delaney, it’s okay,” Leona assures her. “You don’t have to explain. We all have secrets. But can you tell us, what does the Livewire do? We may end up not having a use for it at all, and won’t have to bother your friend about it anyway.”

Delaney sighs. “It can get you back home. Well, theoretically, it can. I don’t know that much about it, but when I was researching it back in my own timeline, the literature made it sound like someone would have to give up their life. It said something about needing a sacrifice on the other side of the call?”

Leona turned back to Vearden. “V, what did you see when you were with Jupiter the first time? Did you see me, and maybe a few other people?”

“Yeah,” Vearden confirms. “You were sleeping on the couch with Ellie Underhill, and two people that I didn’t recognize.”

Leona Matic grins in a devilish way. “We don’t need any sacrifices. Those four bodies on the couch aren’t asleep...they’re vacant. Jupiter planned this all along.”

The Advancement of Mateo Matic: May 31, 2398

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The team sits around the table, prepared to have dinner together, but not yet ready. Ramses is methodically walking around the condo, waving his wand at every wall, every floor, every object; sometimes more than once for good measure. They believe that they’ve been pretty sensitive to his needs, but there is a limit to their capacity to indulge him. “Rambo,” Marie says, but has to stop when her own grumbling stomach interrupts her. “This is the third time you’ve done that today. We’re all here to eat. Come to the table.”

“Yeah, it’s the third time, and I’m not with it yet. You think I’m gonna stop at two and a half? I just need a little more time.”

“You ain’t got more time,” Marie pushes. “Now we’re all here to celebrate Angela’s pending graduation, and you’re going to be a part of it.”

“Just one more room,” Ramses begs.

“No, it’s fine. No one snuck in here in the last three hours, and planted bugs. They would have to contend with our bugs!”

“I’m just trying to protect you in the only way I’m capable. I was once the only engineer, but now that everybody’s constantly studying, where does that leave me?”

“With any luck, at the dinner table,” Marie responds to his question, instead of trying to console him.

“Honey, he’s going through something right now,” Heath says, hoping to help.

“We’re all going through something,” Marie dismisses. “Angela has to steal my identity, Leona was just taken hostage, Mateo was...also just taken hostage, you recently quit your job, and I have to have an abortion.”

Ramses stops scanning for listening devices, and drops his arms depressively.

“You promised never to play that card,” Angela scolds.

“Why is everyone attacking me now?” Marie questions loudly.

“No one’s attacking anybody,” Leona contends. She stands up. “Ship or no, I’m still the captain of this crew. Ramses, come let us eat. Marie, be a little nicer. Mateo?”

“Huh, what?” Mateo wasn’t really paying attention. He’s too hungry.

“Pay attention,” Leona orders. “And Angela?” They hold their breath, not sure what criticism she could possibly have of Angela. “Congratulations,” she finishes.

“I’m not graduating anything,” Angela argues. “I’m just decent enough at my doppelgänger’s job to fake my way through a shift from here on out.”

“Pretty impressive, if you ask me,” Mateo says, hoping it’s enough to make it seem as if he’s been listening this whole time. He knew a kid like that in grade school. He would always answer one question, ask one question, or make one comment, per day. Sometimes it was very small and inconsequential, but that way, the teacher couldn’t claim that he never participated in class. He had some anxiety problems which otherwise made him the furthest anyone could be from the class clown, so that sort of thing was always a struggle for him.

“Well, the real test is tomorrow in the meeting.”

“I thought you had dealt with a meeting by now,” Heath says, digging into his potatoes, now that Ramses has surrendered.

“I’ve been to a meeting, yes,” Angela explains, “but I’m running this one.”

“It’s a big deal,” Marie says, trying to sound supportive, but realizing immediately that it also makes it sound like a lot of pressure. “You’ll do great.” Saved it.

“Thanks, but...”

“But nothing. You’re me, and I rock in those meetings, so you will too.”

“Who was that guy we met in the simulation?” Angela asks. “Somehow, we ended up teaching him how to play horseshoes? You remember?”

“Oh. Uh, Cyrano. What about him?”

“Well, we saw him at that restaurant something like fifty years later. He had won a ghosting mod in a raffle, and was using it to—”

“Oh, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah,” Marie recalls. “He was, like, hypnotizing people to make them say weird things to their dinner dates? I don’t remember how he did that part, or why we were able to see him. But yeah, I remember him. Why?”

“You could basically do that,” Angela suggests. “I could wear an earpiece and video glasses, and you could just tell me what to say, and how to act in the meeting. That way, I wouldn’t be able to screw it up.”

“Oh, right, that’s a great idea!” Marie says, giving Angela some hope. “Oh, but no, there’s a problem with that plan.”

“What?”

“The problem is I’m not going to do that.”

Microstory 1753: Mountain Table

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I have to stop and take another break. I know that I only have a few more steps to go, but I’ll topple over if I don’t take a few seconds to catch my breath. I don’t hear my master up on the mountaintop. He’s probably on the far side of it, peeing over the edge, or laughing to himself about his accomplishments, of which there are many. Technically, everything he ever did was actually done by someone else; someone like me. Don’t tell him I’m complaining, though. A single word of slight displeasure with work conditions, and he’s sending me back down this mountain the quick route, if you know what I mean. It’s what he does. He’ll take any reason he can find to kill his servant, and move on to the next one. There always is another candidate waiting, so it’s not like he has to worry about doing any actual work on his own. I wish I could thank the ones who came before me, who learned his quirks and pet peeves, so the rest of us know what to expect. I just hope the guy just before me was the last to ever make a mistake. My sister tells me it doesn’t matter, that it’s not worth it. She thinks he’ll always find a reason, but I know that he has in mind the perfect life, and if I can give that to him, he’ll reward me. He’ll reward my entire family if I go above and beyond above and beyond, and that’s why there is always someone ready to take his servant’s place. If I get this right, he won’t need another servant until I’m dead. Then maybe my grandson will take over for me. That would be a dream come true. Okay, I can keep going now. Then I’ll assemble the pieces, and be finished with this once and for all. I’m grateful he didn’t demand that I bring the whole thing up here at once. That would have been impossible, and I would have become the first in an infinite series of servants to die on our respective first days.

I keep walking, and make it all the way to the top. Then I approach the pile of parts, and carefully set the last one down next to it. It’s the largest and heaviest one. When it’s finished, this will be the largest table in all the lands. Kings, warriors, and sorcerers from all over will one day hold meetings here. Dozens of sections will fit together on top of four times as many legs. Those were the easiest to do in the grand scheme of things. He let me take as much, or as little, as I wanted, and as much time as I needed. Unfortunately, the central leg structure was custom made by a follower of his, and it was constructed as a single piece, so I couldn’t take it apart, but that’s done now, and I’m ready to move on to the next phase. I begin to fit legs under leaves, and connect them all together. It goes quite fast, and I don’t need any more breaks. I suppose what I went through to get here has made me so strong that I feel invincible. Perhaps it’s a taste of my ultimate reward. I’m so proud of myself once it’s completely complete. I didn’t make any mistakes, or have to redo anything. It’s perfect, if I do say so myself. As if he knows it’s ready, my master appears from the other side of the ridge. He takes a long time to inspect my work, making me nervous, probably on purpose. He smiles and places a warm hand on my shoulder. “You have done well. It is a magnificent table.” I smile back and thank him for the praise. He continues, “now drag it over to that side, and flip it over the edge. Follow it down, as carefully as you would like, but be at the bottom by the end of the day. If you survive, commission the carpenter to make another one just like it, and then do it all over again.” He begins the trek down the steps, and I do as I’m told. After the fourth table, I don’t make it down the mountain in time, and he kills me for it.

Microstory 1715: Little Dog

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They call me Little Dog. My mom says my grandpa was Big Dog, or maybe his grandpa? Or maybe his grandpa’s grandpa’s grandpa’s grandpa’s grandpa? I can’t remember it. It’s not my real name, that would be silly. I am this many years old tomorrow, and I’m so excited. They tell me I’m going to be getting a table for my birthday. They seem pretty happy about it. I guess grownups all have their own table, and when you get your own, it means you’re one of them. I don’t know if I’m old enough to use my own table, but I see my mommy and daddy using them all the time. They tap, tap, tap on it, and pretty pictures come up on the top of it. I hear them arguing with each other about whether I’m allowed to have a style to go with it. I don’t really care what style it is, as long as it works. My big sister has a table, but she doesn’t have my name anymore. When I’m old enough, our parents will have another brother and sister, and he’ll be named Little Dog instead of me. That’s what my sister says she used to be called. I don’t want to not be the Little Dog anymore. I mean I don’t want someone else to have my name. I like being a Little Dog. I like to crawl on the floor and bark at people. They seem to think that it’s cute, but if I stop being the dog then I won’t be able to do it anymore. My dad doesn’t get to see my dog game very much anymore because he always works in the big office. They sometimes take me to see everyone, and all the people in the blue jackets seem to think I’m pretty cool. Okay, bye!

Microstory 1538: Lost at Sea

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I’m lost at ________, and I don’t know how I got ________. The last thing I ________, I was trying to wake ________, only able to catch ________ of a ceiling passing by. ________ must have been wheeling me down the ________ on a gurney. Before that, I was just ________ my own business at the ________ shop across the street from my ________ building. I don’t know if I was ________, or rescued, but whatever these people’s reasons, something seems to have gone ________. I saw fire on the ________, and dark shapes in the darkness. It was hard to tell where the ship ended, and the sky began, if it was a ________ I was seeing at all. I’m sure it was, but what do I ________? I’m dehydrated and starving, but at least I’m not ________, presumably because I slept pretty much all the ________ here. I look ________, and scan the horizon, hoping to catch ________ of land, or some other survivor, if only so we don’t have to ________ out here alone. Even if it’s one of my captors, it would be ________; they might be ________ to give me some answers. There is nothing, and no one. I mean, all I see is ________; not even one piece of debris. It all sank or ____ed away by the time the ________ came up. The ocean is so still, and so ________, I feel like I can see the curvature of ________. I lie ________ and watch the clouds go by ________, like ceiling tiles in a strange ________. I am acutely aware of the passage of ________. My ________ and hunger grow worse with each passing ________. An hour, another hour, two more. Several more after that, and then half a ________. The sun does not disappear. It does not even ________. It’s stuck in the ________ as much as I’m trapped on this ________. I think at any ________ that I should ________ up and discover this is nothing ________ than a ________, but that never happens. Perhaps a ____ulation? The ceiling ________ belonged to a virtual ________ company. Yeah, that must be the ________, right? I call out to the simulation ________, begging them to let me out. I don’t want to ________ anymore, or they’ve made their ________, or they’ve learned something about how people react to their ________. I don’t know, I’m just ________. Desperate for anything that ends this ________. My skin is ________ and peeling, and may even be bubbling. This all feels pretty ________ to me, and the virtual reality angle seems a little unlikely, even though being ________ abducted for no clear reason, and then ________ surviving a sinking ________, also seems unlikely. After another two ________ come and go, with no end to the sun’s harsh death rays, I start to ________ slipping off this ________, and letting the water fill my ________. I recall ________with similar premises. The hero always survives—or at least one of them does, if there’s ________ than one—and they move on with their ________. This is not a ________, and I am not a ________. I don’t die, though. The sun keeps ________ me, and I keep ________ here, and the ________ barely ever moves. After a few weeks of this, I realize that the reason I can’t ________ is because I already have. And I can’t ________ through the water either, because my ________ just won’t go that way. This is just my own ________ hell, and it will never end.

Microstory 1537: Grave Error

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I’ve always loved going to ________, and in fact ________ to when I’m feeling ________ from work. They make me ________ calm because of how remote they are. Even the ones they ________ inside the ________ seem distant from ________ else, as if crossing through that ________ puts me in a different ________ altogether. I suppose I could just go ________ through nature, like the ________, or ________ ________, because it’s not like I ________ this fascination with ________. Then again, maybe I do, because I do like ________ the names on the tomb____, and especially the ________. I like looking for the ________ grave in the ________, and the most ________ life spans. I guess I can’t say that I ________ it; more like it’s a compulsion. I want to ________ who the youngest person is in ________, and who the ________ is. I saw one a few ________ back where the ________ date was the same as the ________ date. What ________ there? I mean, I ________ what happened ________. But how did the ________ react, and what became of ________ afterwards? It ________ have been heart____, I don’t know what I would have done if I were a ________ of that ________. The oldest ________ I’ve ever found up until ________ was a hundred and ________ years old. I can’t ________ that either, seeing all your ________ ones die as you go ________. I did a ________ research into her and her ________. All five of her ________ passed before her, and all but ________ were pretty old at the time. No one would have scoffed at their ages, but she ________ outlived them, and that must have been pretty ________. Now I’ve found someone who appears to be so much ________ than that, and I don’t know if I can ________ it. This guy’s marker reads ________ 1812 to ________ 1979. That is a hundred and sixty-seven ________. I mean, come on. The marker itself looks ________, so I’m thinking it has to be some kind of prank. I lift up on it, as ________ as that sounds, because I figure if it’s ________, it won’t be stuck in the ________ very well. The marker does move, but not because it hasn’t been ________ for long, but because it’s some kind of switch. The ________ where the grave ought to be ________ over like a trap ________, revealing a ________. A small group of ________ are sitting around a ________. They look up at me, unsurprised by my arrival. “Welcome,” one of them says. Now that you’ve found this ________, you must join us. Or ________.”

Microstory 1056: Carrie

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I don’t know why I’m telling you this story, because it’s not in my best interest to reveal the secret of how I knew Viola, but I have this inexplicable compulsion to get it out. I don’t have all the answers, so you’re going to have to talk to Earl and Edgar, but the reality is that the whole Gertrude-Maud tragedy was not the first deadly and harrowing adventure that Viola took it upon herself to help with. Last year, Edgar found out that I had a bit of a crush on him, and he decided to do something about it. If I had realized who—and what—he was, I wouldn’t have had those feelings, but I was just excited he was taking an interest in me. The four of us started hanging out; the fourth being this other person I can’t really tell you about unless I explain what happened to us that night, and maybe then you’ll also understand why someone told you to speak with Ida before me. How they knew you should do that, I couldn’t tell you. The first thing we took was a pack of gum, from the grocery store. Roy even caught me doing it, but Edgar used his charm to get him to let us go, which of course wasn’t that hard, because he has a learning disability. The next time, though, we took something larger. I don’t remember what it was, but Blanche caught us this time, and there was no way she could be convinced to look the other way. Yet she did, all because Edgar simply told her to. I was scared, but also mesmerized. How did he do that? I had to know more, so I kept doing everything he asked; be it more stealing, some vandalism, or stashing a baseball bat at my house. By the time I had the good sense to stop the madness, he already had me in his claws, and no matter how much I wanted to pull away, he kept me subservient. Some people seem to think Viola had superhuman powers, which I know was true, but no one seems to be considering the possibility that she was never the only one. There is so much about this world that we can’t explain.

Things got so much worse when he asked me to film him give our fourth friend a beating. He didn’t say why he was doing it, but he was enjoying it a lot, and that psychopathy was enough to break me out of my trance. I immediately knew that Viola was the only one who could help me with my problem, even though I had no real reason to think that. By the time she and I found them again, the fourth friend was already lying on a wooden table, in this creepy dungeons, his blood draining into a bucket. Viola was clear he wasn’t a vampire, but that didn’t mean she fully understood what he was going to do. It was very ceremonial, and culty, which she wasn’t surprised to see. The victim was inches from death when Viola started taking Edgar on in a physical manner. They spilled all the blood during the fight, and drenched the place, except not a single drop touched me, or Earl, who was in an even deeper trance than I ever was. Before too long, Viola had him bested, and knocked unconscious. She ruthlessly rolled the victim off the table, and placed Edgar on it. When she picked up the knife, I thought she was going to kill him with it, but she just made several very shallow cuts, all over his body. I couldn’t see anything change, but I could feel the heat from some kind of energy pass from the victim, up to Edgar’s body, and a coldness transfer the other direction. When Edgar woke up, he wasn’t Edgar anymore. They had switched placed, thanks to Viola’s magic. The reason I can’t name him is because Viola erased him from history, and everyone’s mind, including his own. I was one of only three to remember that any of this happened, but Viola never told us why, and I still don’t recall his name. That’s all I know. Earl can tell you more. I’m done talking about this.