Showing posts with label teamwork. Show all posts
Showing posts with label teamwork. Show all posts

Sunday, January 25, 2026

The Advancement of Mateo Matic: August 23, 2536

Generated by Google Gemini Pro text-to-video AI software, powered by Veo 3.1
Leona walked back into the lab. Ramses wasn’t there, at least not in the main area. He did have that room in the back that he asked others to stay out of. Surely that didn’t apply to her, though. They were partners. She contributed a lot to rebuilding his lab, and the slingdrive array, which were their most important assets. She opened the door to find him naked on an exam table, at a high incline, a gaping hole in his abdomen. “What the hell are you doing?”
The robosurgeon stopped moving out of an abundance of caution since Leona did not step into this room decontaminated, or even very recently showered. Ramses wasn’t under anaesthesia, though, so he was annoyed. “Get out!” he demanded. He looked at the little surgical arms. “Get back to work!”
“Belay that order!” Leona countered.
“You don’t have control over this thing,” Ramses dismissed.
“Tell me what you are doing to yourself.”
Ramses sighed. “This was incredibly tedious and irritating. I cannot lose my forge core again. So no more pocket dimensions, no more bags of holding. This thing is being stored safe and sound inside of me, and if I lose that? Well, that means I’ve lost my entire substrate, so I don’t know what else I could try.”
“This is insane. You don’t have room to spare. What are you taking out to make space?” she questioned.
“Don’t worry about it.”
“I’m sick of repeating myself! What will you have to take out!”
“Just some of my voltaics, and my sleep regulator. Okay, most of my voltaics. And my nutrient booster, and my water recycler, and two of my metallic oxygen reservoirs. But that’s it.” He stopped, but it looked like he wasn’t done yet. “And part of my liver, but it’s fine. I’ll just have to sleep more, and eat more, and I won’t be able to survive the vacuum for as long as normal people do. Not a big deal.”
Leona shook her head. “I know that this was hard on you, but this is not the way.”
“I’m already using an upgraded body,” Ramses reasoned. “It’s not like it will reject it, or go septic, or something like that. People have all sorts of implants, and some even use artificial organs all the time, mixed with their organic ones. It really is okay.”
“Do you know why we aren’t telepathic, Ramses?”
“Because I couldn’t figure it out.”
“That’s a lie, and we both know it. You didn’t give us telepathy, even though it would make a lot of the things we do easier, because you decided that that was a bridge too far. Every posthuman has their line, and that was yours, whether you’ll admit it or not.”
“It’s not a spectrum,” Ramses argued. “It’s an array, so if your claim were right, it would be more like excluding something from the array.”
“Metaphors aside, you’re not a mech.”
“And this isn’t cybernetic. It’s a...flesh pocket.”
“That’s not what that term means,” she warned.
“A storage cabinet,” he amended. “I appreciate your concern, but I’m doing this, so you can either squirm and watch, or get out and breathe.”
“It’s a slippery slope. That’s what I’m trying to say. Because there will come a time when you have to escape this body unexpectedly, and it will prompt you to try something more drastic. You could lose a part of yourself trying more and more. You could lose our pattern. You would be off the team.”
Ramses frowned. They stared at each other for a while. “It wouldn’t be the first time a version of me lost the team.” He looked at the arms. “Keep going, surgeon. Take out the legacy parts.”
“There’s a better way. I think you should take more time to think of it.” Leona opted to leave. She didn’t want to watch the procedure. She didn’t know if she was in the right, or if there was nothing wrong with what Ramses was trying to do. She just didn’t want him regretting it, or doing something that couldn’t be reversed. She stood in the main lab for a couple of minutes, hoping that he would change his mind and come out. When it looked like he wasn’t going to, she started to walk away.
Ramses came out, still pulling his shirt down over his bandaged incision site. He set his forge core on the counter.
“Ah!” she screamed, “I changed your mind!” She reached out and took him into a bear hug.
He pulled away, still rather sore. “Careful, careful.” The local anaesthetics conflicted with the liquid bandage, so he would have to switch to painkillers. “Yes, you did change my mind.”
“What was it? Tell me what did it exactly...in case I need to say it again.”
“You told me I should look for a better way, and I think you’re right,” he answered. “I think I have one.”
“Lay it on me,” she encouraged.
“Bioprinting.”
“Bioprinting?”
“Bioprinting.”
“What does the method of substrate fabrication have to do with anything?”
“The science wasn’t there before, but it is now. What we need are brand new upgrades, complete with new parameters. Instead of just a handful of nanite implants, they will be evenly distributed under the skin, ready to emerge and form even faster than now. The forge core is still a part of the plan, but I don’t have to take anything out to make room for it. I just need a new design. I’m going to work on it now.”
“We were hoping to leave now,” she reminded him. “We need to take Meyers to his new home on the other side of the galaxy.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Ramses said. “Someone else can handle that. I need to focus.”
“I thought you didn’t want this to be a permanent lab.”
“And it won’t be. I have a new idea for that too. But I can’t waste time going off on a side mission for some hermit that I have no strong feelings about. You can go if you want to, or collaborate with me on my new projects. But from where I’m standing, the other five can handle it without us.”
“Four,” Leona corrected. “We need at least three at each location.”
“Sure, sure, sure, let’s do that. You make that call, but I’m not going to be on the away team. Not this time.”
Leona studied him as he turned around, and started pulling down tools, preparing his workspace for his new plans. He was instantly engrossed in the flood of ideas, he wasn’t paying attention to her, and didn’t notice when she snagged the forge core before teleporting away. She jumped to Olimpia, who was alone, but she wanted to talk to everyone. Well, most everyone. She tapped and held onto her comms disc, opening up for a voice command. “Group call to all team contacts, except for Ramses.”
“What?” Olimpia questioned. “Why?”
All team contacts except for Ramses Abdulrashid. Channel open...” the operator announced.
“Everyone convene at my location. Don’t tell Ramses.”
“Why are you leaving him out of it?” Olimpia asked. “What’s going on?”
Leona waited for everyone else to arrive before explaining herself. “Ramses is obsessed. He’s working on a new project, which places him in danger. He wants three or four of us to take Mr. Meyers to his new home, but I am not comfortable with that. I know what’s going to happen. If we use our new slingdrive array for the first time ever to separate, we will stay separated for an extended period of time.”
“Did you speak with a seer, or something?” Marie asked.
“It’s not that I know it for a fact. It’s more that that’s how our lives always go. We don’t really know where we’re going, and I’m formulating a hypothesis about how the slingdrives work, which I don’t even think Ramses has noticed. I believe that their scope is smaller than we once thought, and every time we use them, we risk running into someone that we don’t want to. I would rather we all be together when that happens. I’m sure you won’t like it, but I have admin access to the array, so we’re going to sling, and Ramses is coming with us, whether he wants to or not.” She held up the forge core. “Wherever we end up, we’ll at least be together, and we will rebuild from there. Even if that means ending up back here anyway, I would prefer not to take the chance.”
“You’re the captain, honey,” Mateo pointed out.
“I’m not asking you to be on my side about it,” Leona went on, “but I wanted to tell you ahead of time, because after we land, he’s going to be angry, and he’s going to have questions. I don’t want to have to answer to you five while I’m dealing with him. So ask your questions now, so when we do go, we’re only worrying about him.”
“I have a question,” Romana said, holding up her hand.
“Okay...” Leona prompted.
“Can I go warn Ramses?” Romana couldn’t keep a straight face with that.
Leona scoffed. “Any serious questions?”
“Yeah, when is this happening?” Angela asked.
Leona asked her husband. “Is Meyers in stasis?”
“He is,” Mateo confirmed.
“Then we’ll leave right now, or as soon as you all have everything you need.”
“Our pocket dimensions are back in order,” Angela said, “so I suppose there’s nothing more to pack.”
Leona’s gaze drifted over to her wife. “Oli?”
“I don’t agree with this. We don’t keep secrets from each other. We don’t trick each other. We have enemies, and we treat them how we must to survive, and protect others, but we’re only able to do that because of the trust that we’ve built within the team. I wouldn’t have asked you to marry me if I thought you were capable of something like this.”
“You didn’t see what I saw,” Leona tried to explain. “He was mutilating himself.” She shook the forge core. “He was going to stuff this thing under his liver, and take out a bunch of his transorgans to do it.”
“That sounds like his call,” Olimpia argued.
“And this is mine. I’m still the captain here, even without a ship. You all spent a great deal of energy convincing me of that. So which is it? I’m your leader until you don’t like a decision I make?” Leona questioned.
“Yes, exactly,” Olimpia concurred. “That’s what good leaders do. They listen to their people, and change their minds when reasoned with.”
“I’ve not heard a good reason not to do this,” Leona decided.
“Then you’re not listening. Captain or no, I have my own agency, so I’m going to go talk to my friend. I agree that we should stick together, but we’re not going to do it as a surprise. Thank you for making sure he keeps his forge core with him, but he may want something else, or he may need to turn off some machines, or place an AI in dormant mode so it doesn’t go insane in the void of time. This is irresponsible, and I won’t stand for it.” And with that, she disappeared.
There was an awkward silence in her absence, which Mateo broke. “She has a pretty good point.”
“I know that!” Leona snapped back. She tapped and held on her comms disc again. “Team lurk mode. Admin authorization Dolphin-Racecar-Kangaroo one-niner-three.”
She listened to the conversation between Olimpia and Ramses in secret. The former wasn’t selling Leona out. She just appealed to the logic side of Ramses’ brain, reminding him that the slingdrives were brand new and untested, and it was too dangerous to let them go their separate ways. They all had to go together. She promised that they would find a place for him to continue on with his projects, either here, back on Castlebourne, or somewhere else entirely. Ramses was understanding, and persuaded. While everyone was making sure they had everything closed up and secure, Ramses shut his lab down, and gathered the last of his belongings. He told Leona to go ahead and keep the forge core that she had taken as it was only one copy, and he had another. He was considering making five more of them so everyone could have their own. They were fairly user-friendly, and getting easier to operate with each iteration. Their main function was to rebuild his lab, but they could also just construct some other structure, which could come in handy if they did ever end up getting separated, and stranded somewhere hostile.
Pribadium glided into the room. “All ready to go?”
“Thank you for your hospitality,” Mateo said to her.
“Is that what you would call it? I was pretty combative,” Pribadium noted.
“Let’s just call it passionate,” Mateo decided.
She smiled. “Thank you for doing this. If he wants to be a hermit, I don’t have a problem with that. I just don’t want him to go back into the system, and try to scrounge up the energy credits. He’s not much of a contributor. He’ll never save enough if he relies solely on passive income.”
“Energy credits?” Romana asked Leona in a whisper.
“I’ll explain it later,” Leona whispered back. “We don’t worry about credits. We generate our own energy.”
“No problem,” Mateo said. He pressed a button on the stasis pod so it started hovering over the magnetized floor. Rambo, could you take the other end? Leona can drive.”
“Yeah.” Ramses held onto the pod, just enough to make sure it was transported with them. He was still a little perturbed, but hopefully he would be able to return to his work quite soon. Perhaps they would carve a chunk out of Linwood’s new celestial body, or something nearby, and stick around for a bit while they rebuilt.
“Wait,” Pribadium said. She went over, and planted a kiss on Mateo’s lips. “I know you like the ladies.”
“What has become of my reputation!” he questioned rhetorically.
“Better step back, Pri-Pri,” Leona suggested.
Pribadium saluted them, and then disappeared.
“Prepare to sling,” Leona said as she was tapping on her arm band. “Yalla.” They left.

Monday, January 12, 2026

Microstory 2581: Renata Comes Back Out from Behind the Counter After Shutting the Other Gates

Generated by Google Gemini Pro text-to-video AI software, powered by Veo 3.1
Renata comes back out from behind the counter after shutting the other gates. Her statement stands, that she can’t trust Quidel, but those motorcycles don’t sound good. They’re so loud and obnoxious. This is a remote part of town, but it’s not completely cut-off. People can hear them, and if there’s a shootout, the cops will become involved, whether the alarms are still working or not. All this running through her mind, she’s starting to freak out. She didn’t pass the first test—the first test!—for the NSD. She can’t protect an entire bank from a bunch of shadowy biker spies. She gets on her knees, and checks for Lazar’s pulse. He doesn’t have one. “How will they get in? Blowtorches? Explosives? A truck?”
“They’ll use a key,” Quidel answers calmly.
She’s just staring at Lazar’s bloodied face. “If they have access to this building, why did this guy kill my boss?”
“Because he didn’t have a key. They’re not working together. The location of this bank was leaked, and multiple parties are coming to claim it.”
“Are they here for everything, or for one specific thing?”
“Little bit of both. They all have their priorities, but they’ll take anything they can get their hands on. Grab his gun. Our only hope is to fight back.”
“Are reinforcements coming?” Renata presses.
“Yes, but they’ll be a while. The Kumati will be inside in seconds, as soon as they find which key goes to which gate.” They can hear the warble-whang of the gate as the bad guys begin to try to open it. “Their slight lack of intel is the only thing protecting us right now, and the clock is ticking. Please pick up that gun.”
Renata is still not looking up. “If this bank is so valuable, why doesn’t it have round-the-clock surveillance?”
“Renata! Please!”
“I mean, at least keep a guard here overnight.”
The gate opens. A bunch of men file in, and start waving their guns around, as if there were more threats than only two people in the center of the lobby. They’re speaking Kumati, which Renata never learned, but they don’t sound happy.
“If it were me, I would keep a surveillance house nearby, with officers who are always on watch. If not every bank employee knows it’s a front, the panopticons only come in during an emergency.”
“It’s over, Renata.” Quidel drops his gun, holds his hand up to surrender.
“Like this one,” Renata finishes.
More yelling.
“Stand up, Renata,” Quidel urges. “These guys aren’t messing around, and I don’t know what happens to your consciousness when you die!”
Now she looks up. “Huh?”
“You. Are. A. Ro. Bot.”
She winces.
More yelling. This guy’s right up in her face with his shotgun. And he’s about to fire it.
She slaps the muzzle of his gun, so it swings to the side. He instinctively pulls the trigger, shooting a few of his compatriots. She takes the shotgun with both hands, jams the butt into his toe, then shoots him in the chin. No more shells. She finally does pick-up the original motorcyclist’s pistol. She shoots the rest of the attackers in the head, one-by-one, before any of them can fire back even once. No more bullets.
Two more guys rush into the bank. Quidel has since retrieved his own weapon from the floor, which he uses to take out these guys. They can still hear more outside. A lot of people came for the treasure. The two of them swipe their dead enemies’ guns from their hands, and walk out of the bank together. They don’t speak, they don’t coordinate. Renata handles the gunmen who are more on the left side as Quidel takes care of the right. They only fire as many times as necessary to get the job done, and they don’t take a single bullet for themselves.
They stand there for a moment, waiting for anyone to come out from behind a tree, or something. “What did you mean by that?”
“By what?”
“You said I was a robot.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“I heard you, plain as day. It...triggered something in me. I felt invigorated. I felt bulletproof.”
“You may be.”
“Because I’m a robot?”
He shakes his head. “That’s not the right word for it. There’s no such thing as an intelligent robot. Android, yes. Superintelligence, absolutely. But robots are just machines with programming. You don’t have programming. Even when you did, it wasn’t a rigid set of instructions, but a deeply engineered personality. You still made your own choices. It’s just that you made the predictable ones, and you didn’t know that they came from implanted memories, rather than lived experiences, and that you were designed by another intelligence.”
“What the hell are you going on about?”
Quidel looks at her with what Renata feels is unwarranted sadness. “You’re not the only one. I just think you were the first. That’s what I’ve been doing here, in your world. The NSD gives me missions, which I take, but I’ve been running my own investigation in parallel. It took me a long time to find you, and I encountered other anomalies along the way.”
“You are not making any sense, as per usual. Maybe the gas that nearly killed us gave you permanent brain damage.”
“It didn’t nearly kill me, Renata. It did kill me.”
“How is that possible?” she questions.
He gestures all around them. “How is this? Did you take marksmanship classes? Did you even learn basic gun safety? This is your handiwork, yet as far as you remember, you’ve never picked up a gun even once. Can you explain that?”
“No. Can you?”
“Yes. But you won’t believe me, and if I do manage to convince you of the truth, it’s gonna ruin your life.”
Renata looks around now. “What else is new?”

Sunday, December 28, 2025

The Advancement of Mateo Matic: August 19, 2532

Generated by Google Flow text-to-video AI software, powered by Veo 3.1
It wasn’t really accurate to say that the slingdrive explosion sent the space station to somewhere else in the universe. They were actually not in the universe at all anymore, and in fact may not have even really moved, in the three-dimensional sense. The totality of the cosmos include a seemingly infinite bulk of universes called branes, floating around, occasionally colliding with each other. The stuff that the bulk was made out of was known as bulk energy, but it went by other names. When bulk energy would leak into a brane, it essentially created a tiny new pocket of space, and this phenomenon was once known as dark energy, because scientists couldn’t explain why it was a thing. After settling into a more stable quantum state, it became known as your average, everyday vacuum energy. Each of these leaks caused the universe to expand, which stretched the brane out, which caused it to thin, which caused more leaks. That was why the universe was not only expanding, but why this expansion was accelerating. But if the outside of a brane was bulk energy, and the inside was vacuum energy, and these two things were virtually the same, what was the difference? What was the barrier? What was the membrane part of the brane? Well, it used to be called dark matter, but it was now known to be quintessence. As the fifth fundamental force, quintessence was repulsive, and served as the mirror image to the attractive force of gravity.
Quintessence was there to hold everything together. It didn’t like to touch anything else, but it liked to touch other quintessence. So it naturally formed clumps, like two raindrops sliding down a window, ultimately coalescing into a single, larger drop. This was why 3D space existed, because it was being contained. Without it, matter and energy would just be floating around that bulk as formless blobs at best, inherently at its own equilibrium, and having no reason to make anything of itself. You owe your entire existence to quintessence. But was still dangerous and unforgiving, and despite being so repulsive to baryonic matter, it wasn’t a one-dimensional sheet, but a massive clump with thickness. This was how the slingdrives worked, not by escaping the universe, and then returning to it, but by only piercing one layer of the membrane, and sliding alongside it to a new destination. And if it was possible to get into it, and get out later, it was possible to succeed at the first thing, but fail at the second. It was possible to get stuck. Team Matic, and a few opposing individuals, were stuck. To make matters worse, they weren’t all stuck together. To make matters even worse, they weren’t all stuck with friends.
They were alive, and had been for about a year, but divided, and communication was difficult. The space station was supposed to be a sphere, but it wasn’t like that anymore. It had become unraveled, as if God herself had come by with a grapefruit peeler, and spiraled it out to slurp it up like linguine. Lots of metaphors here, but when there was nothing to do, they came up with such things to occupy their time. When this happened, all pocket dimensions, and other temporal anomalies, burst apart. Reserve water flooded the chambers, dayfruit smoothie spilled out, and slingdrive components broke apart. Everyone had the basics, like carbon scrubbers, food synthesizers, and the power to run them, but they weren’t left with ways to retain their sanity. No inter-sector talking, and no teleportation. Not even their team empathy could penetrate the barrier.
Romana and Franka were alone together in one sector, having to figure out how to be civil with each other, if not sisters. Mateo and A.F. were in another sector, and it took everything they had not to tear each other apart. Marie was all right as she was with Dutch. They met Dutch years ago in another universe. They didn’t really know how he ended up here, but in order to survive, he ended up having to go into stasis with Romana during the period where half the team was in the Goldilocks Corridor, and the other half was on Castlebourne, which had been physically moved to another region of space. Truthfully, they had kind of forgotten about him, and just sort of left him there in his pod. He didn’t seem upset, because no time had passed for him, and he was a pretty easygoing guy. The sector with the most number of people contained Ramses, Angela, and Octavia. They weren’t hostile with one another, but it was rather awkward, and the two members of Team Matic had to learn to get along with this stranger whose alternate selves they didn’t even know very well. Leona and Miracle were trapped in the fifth sector, and that was weird too, but unlike with Mateo and A.F., they weren’t too worried about killing each other. Fittingly, Olimpia was alone again in the final sector. When was this girl gonna catch a break?
The spirals of the space station were not uniform, which meant that some of them were able to see each other some of the time. They didn’t understand why at first, but there were some theories floating around about passing suns, which they tried to share with each other during optimal times. While it didn’t feel like they were moving, they maybe were. It was dark the majority of the time, so the windows showed them absolutely nothing but the black. Periodically, however, light from some unknown source would bounce off of them, allowing them to peak into other sectors. They would leave messages for each other by gluing pieces of paper together into shapes, mostly letters. If they were lucky, they would happen to be there at the right time, and could use hand gestures to convey information. There was no quantum communication, nor even radio signals. These brief moments of connection were the only way for them to know that everyone was still alive and well enough, albeit depressed and pessimistic. The smarties worked through the problem, though they couldn’t do it together, so it was slow-going. They finally thought they had a solution, but it would take coordination.
“Do you have any idea what the hell you’re doing?” A.F. questioned.
Mateo sighed. “My wife was clear on how to do it. I wrote it down.”
“You’re the worst person to be responsible for this.”
“Yes, well, Ramses is in the cargo bay, and Leona is basically in a bathroom.” That was the worst part of all of this. The other sectors had the means to access the sewage lines, but not officially or...pleasantly. Leona and Miracle weren’t actually in a bathroom either, but the stasis chamber was equipped with better access.
“I’m saying that I should do it,” A.F. reasoned.
“I’m not trusting you with it, and I’m taller.”
“Oh, by, like, a centimeter.”
They had done something similar to this before. When trying to escape the kasma—from A.F. and his army—the quintessence was trying to crush them too, or let them crash into it. Olimpia used her magical Sangster Canopy to create extra space in front of them, cutting through the membrane until they were free, and in the greater bulk again. They would come to realize now that she was channeling bulk energy. It wasn’t easy back then, but even harder now. Olimpia’s window appeared visibly the least often, and she reported issues with her umbrella. As it turned out, it needed some power. She had to tap into the fuel cells of the station, which was not something she knew how to do right away. All these little studies, experiments, and instructions were why it had taken months to solidify the plan. It was now finally time to implement it.
Olimpia’s would be the toughest job, but Mateo’s was not voluntary either. Right now, a magnetic field was the only thing preventing the quintessence from crushing them into what Leona was calling proton soup, and that was keeping Mateo up at night. While the field was great, it was also what was trapping them in the membrane. What they needed was to make it spit them out, and that was a delicate and nuanced procedure that he didn’t know if he was prepared for. The field couldn’t simply be switched off. It had to be oscillated and directed, matching progress with Olimpia’s work at creating an opening for them, because there was no way to steer. They still couldn’t talk, so Leona and Ramses came up with a very tight schedule, and taught it to both of them beforehand. If they both started at the right time, and followed the plan correctly, they shouldn’t need to communicate.
He was standing on a ladder, staring at his watch, waiting for the right moment. There was a very small margin of error here. He could start adjusting the field generator a few seconds early, or a few seconds late, but no more than that. He was breathing deliberately now; in through his nose, out through his mouth. He noticed A.F. copying him, but didn’t say anything. Six, five, four, three, two, one, go. Mateo reached up, and tried to connect the wires together. A paralyzing sensation spread throughout his whole body, and sent him flying backwards, onto the hard surface of the floor, but not before slamming his head against the edge of the counter.
Meanwhile, Olimpia was having her own troubles. The blasted umbrella wouldn’t open. There wasn’t a problem with the mechanism, it was just that her hands were sweaty, and she was incredibly nervous. Oh, no. She was late. She was too late! No, she had to just start. If she didn’t get on it, there was no going back. They couldn’t just wait until the next communication window, and try to coordinate again at a later date. There was no way for Mateo to know that she had given up. And if he made his adjustments thinking that she was creating space when she wasn’t, they would all die. Proton soup, she didn’t like the sound of that. Open, open, OPEN! It opened. NOW!
Mateo opened his eyes. Well, he opened them as much as he could. His eyelids were heavy, and were his lashes clinging together like Velcro? His head hurt and felt sticky. He lifted his hand and reached for his neck. Some kind of fluid. Was it blood? Red. Yeah, it was blood. He could surely live, in this superadvanced substrate that Ramses has cloned for him. There was something else wrong, though. He was meant to be doing something. It felt very urgent and important. What was it? He shot up at his waist. “Magnets!”
“Yeah, buddy, I got it,” A.F. replied.
Mateo looked over to see A.F. on his ladder, his arms buried in the ceiling access panel. He didn’t look back over his shoulder, but kept his focus on the wires. If he wasn’t fulfilling the plan, what else would he have been doing? “Are you doing it? Are you doing it right?”
“Yes, I’m not an idiot,” A.F. replied, sighing with annoyance.
“I didn’t know you were paying attention to Leona’s messages.”
“Again, not an idiot. If there were nine other people here with us, I would have expected them to learn the procedure too.”
“Well...I appreciate it.”
“Do you think I wanna die any more than you? You think I wanna kill you so bad that I would sacrifice my own life to do it? I’m not crazy either. I doubt there’s an afterlife simulation relay module anywhere near here.”
“No, probably not.” Mateo massaged the back of his head, knowing that he was risking getting an infection from all the touching, but confident that his body would survive that too. He paused awkwardly. “So...is it going okay?”
“I’m doing what we were told to do, and we’re still alive. Maybe you can look through the windshield to make sure we don’t accidentally pass our turn?”
“I’ll get on it,” Mateo joked back. A.F. wasn’t such a bad guy when he wasn’t trying to kill all of them. They obviously called a truce because it was profoundly irrational for them to try to reenact Hell in the Pacific, but Mateo didn’t know how long that would last after they got out of this mess.
“Right,” A.F. replied quietly.
Mateo suddenly started to hear something. It was a crunching, crackling sound, but only in one ear. He stuck his finger in it, and tried to scratch out the noise. He looked at the tip, worried that blood was pooling in his ear cavity, but it seemed to be okay. It didn’t even quite sound like it was in there, but more behind it. Oh, the comms disc. It had been so long since he had been able to use it. He tried to regulate that instead, standing up, and wobbling around as he searched for a better signal. Voices began to emerge, and become clearer. “Hello?”
Mateo?” Ramses asked.
“Yes, it’s me.”
That’s my dad, everybody, he’s here too!” Romana said jovially. 
Is that the whole roster?” Marie asked.
Yeah, the whole station is out of the membrane. We’re in realspace now.
“How is Olimpia?” Mateo asked.
I’m fine,” Olimpia answered. “I’m still using my umbrella. I’m afraid to let go. I still can’t see anything.
A little extra vacuum energy never hurt anybody,” Leona promised. “Nonetheless, you can indeed let go. I assure you, we’re free.
Are we still a spiral?” Angela questioned.
Nothing to be done about that,” Franka said. “My station is a spiral now.” When did she get her own comms disc? She responded too quickly to not have heard it herself.
I can help you seal up the damaged sectors so the bulkheads open again,” Ramses offered.
I’m sure I can figure it out on my own,” Franka said.
“So, uh...” A.F. began. “Since you’re talking to people, can I stop futzing with these power crystals?”
“Oh, sorry,” Mateo said, embarrassed. “Can confirm, we’re safe now.”
A.F. let go, and climbed back down the ladder. He took a breath, and stared at his enemy for a moment. Finally, he reached out with a friendly hand.
Mateo looked down at his own. “It’s a little bloody.”
A.F. chuckled. “I’ve been trying to get your blood on my hands for decades. This will have to be good enough, I guess. Let’s call it a draw.” He shook Mateo’s hand.
“I would love to not have to run from you anymore.”
“This doesn’t make us friends.”
“I shouldn’t think so,” Mateo agreed. He took a beat. “What happens now?”
“Now...I leave you in her hands.”
“Whose?”
“Proserpina’s. Good luck.” And with that, A.F. disappeared.