The Advancement of Mateo Matic: September 25, 2569

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Romana had gotten out of control. Her father, and everyone else, fully understood where she was coming from—she was lonely, and she needed companionship—but she was playing with fire. They blamed the progression and simplification of technology. A lot of what Ramses did involved temporal manipulation, which most researchers and users didn’t have access to, but a lot of the rest had become ubiquitous. Their advanced substrates were quite common these days, except for the bit about being able to teleport, and their attached pocket dimensions. The computing power and the detail of simulations; the whole galaxy had it, or at least it was available to them.

Downloading what began as a programmed intelligence into a mobile body was nothing new, but it had certainly become easier over the centuries. And that was what a lot of the development focused on now. All everyday problems had been solved, so the primary changed involved removing friction from the processes. You used to have to know how to program a dayfruit with the right ingredients. Now you just told it what you want, and it grew. It even did it faster than the original species could be produced. It used to be that if you wanted to give a digitized consciousness a body, you had to have the education and experience for it, and to account for all sorts of variables. Now you pushed a button. All Romana had to do was push a button, and Boyd 3.0 was just there.

But Boyd was not perfect. She wanted him to be just like them, which meant he had to skip a year at the end of every day. That was time tech, and not in the central archives, so she had to come up with a workaround. According to her, every day at midnight central, his brain went dormant, and didn’t come back online until midnight 365 days later. This was the only way she could do it. If she had asked, Ramses would not have helped her, so she probably made the smart call in that regard. That didn’t mean it wasn’t a problem, though. If his mind could be switched off like that, he could be switched back on. Where were the safeguards? What if someone else showed up during their interim year? What if Boyd got tired of skipping time, and turned himself back on in the middle of a cycle? Did he even want to skip at all, or did he want to leave this planet, and go find his way elsewhere? Romana still hadn’t thought this through.

“I have thought it through,” Romana insisted. “You are just not listening.”

“No, you’re not listening,” Ramses argued louder when Mateo tried to. “Sorry, Matt, but I’m gonna have to take this one. She’s old enough to make her own choices, and suffer the consequences beyond a scolding from her parents.” He looked back at her. “This is dangerous stuff. There was a reason I was quarantining him, and I know you knew that. This was reckless, childish, and stupid, and there will be consequences.”

“Oh, you’re just mad because you’ve become irrelevant,” Romana contended. “Now suddenly the great Ramses Abdulrashid isn’t the only one on the team who can create life. I’m sorry science caught up to your genius, but it was inevitable. Get over it.”

“No.” Ramses was generally a chill guy. He usually only had anxiety over his own insecurities, but he was livid today. “You may not have used my personal lab, but you used equipment that I fabricated.” He stopped her before she could interrupt, “don’t bring AI into this. Of course I didn’t program them character-by-character. They are still mine, and you abused my trust in you by doing this. I’m sorry. I’m sorry to you and your parents, but there may be something seriously wrong with you, so you’re going in hock.”

“You can’t do that.” She laughed it off. No one else was laughing. “No, he can’t do that. I’m an equal member of this team!” No one said a word. “Dad! Moms! Stop him! Stop him!” They didn’t. The time bullet hit her, and sent her straight into lock-up.

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Extremus: Year 142

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The plan did not work as well as Waldemar and Faramund hoped. Some thought Waldemar was faking being an idiot while others claimed they thought he was stupid the whole time. This experiment has mostly served to show him who his friends are, and who his enemies are. So that’s something. He’s afraid that some have fallen through the cracks, though. What if his true enemies are smarter than that, and know how to keep themselves hidden? They could be conspiring against him right now, and he would have no idea. He needs help. He needs someone he knows might be powerful enough to track everyone on this ship. And she just so happens to be his girlfriend.

He’s sitting on the couch with Sable now. He knows he can’t trust her fully, but they’ve been getting along, so he will take this risk. It’s the only way. “Do you love me?”

“Of course I do, Waldy,” Sable replies. “What is this about?”

“I need something from you, but you may not like it. You may not agree with it.” He sighs. If she blabs to anyone it could ruin him. He won’t be able to control an uprising. Even some of his loyalists will fight back. This ship needs stability. No one else can give them that. They wouldn’t even try, because they don’t have the stomach for it.

“What is it?” Sable presses. “You’re making me a little nervous. Just say it.”

“I have reason to believe that there are people on this ship who don’t like the way I’m running things. I believe that they are plotting against me. Finding every single one of them might not be possible. It might even be multiple parties who have nothing to do with each other. I could never truly know. Unless I track everyone. The ship’s privacy controls are unalterable. Believe me, I’ve tried. They’re hardcoded into the design.” Probably to prevent this very thing. “So I need a workaround. I know that you’re an expert in time tech. I think you can help me. Would you be interested in that?”

“You want to spy on everyone?” Sable presses. “Would anyone be exempt?”

“Besides you and me?” Waldemar asks rhetorically. “No. No one can be trusted.”

“How can you be sure you can trust me?” Sable questions. “I could be faking my relationship with you. You don’t know. You can’t read emotions, let alone thoughts.”

“I don’t know it,” he admits, “but I have to ask someone for help, and you’re the best. There’s a way to know what’s happening on Extremus by peering through spacetime. It subverts all cameras, all spatial locks, everything. It can’t be avoided.”

“Are you sure that this technology exists, or are you simply guessing?”

“I know the tech exists,” he says. “What I don’t know is if you have it. Don’t deny that you have abilities. I remember killing you once. I thought it was a dream, but now I’m certain that you traveled back in time to undo it. It’s fine, I’m not mad. I don’t actually have an inherent problem with secrets. I just don’t want people to use their secrets against me. I don’t have the time or bandwidth to get people in trouble for every little thing they do. The surveillance tech would only be used to find rebels, full stop.”

“Well, how do I know if I can trust you? You say that that’s all it would be for. You might even mean it at this very moment, but you could always change your mind.”

“You can always turn it off,” Waldemar says. “You will retain that power.”

Sable appears to think about it. “Hm. That’s not good enough. I would have to suspect that you’re abusing it and then turn it off. Besides, you’re in a tricky spot, being the captain. You should distance yourself from this anyway. I won’t give you the tech—which I admit, does exist, though I would have to make some modifications—but I would give you the intel. I retain full control over it. I surveil, and report my findings.”

Waldemar considers her proposition then offers her his hand. “Deal.”

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Extremus: Year 140

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Waldemar has gathered his most trusted advisors and loyalists in a sector of the ship just for them. He knows what these people think, and how they react to news. Still, he’s not just going to stand here and blurt out the plan. He’s divided everyone into circles. A lot of people in history seem to have had inner circles, and then everyone else, but he’s chosen to have nine of them. The outermost is simply the entire population of the ship, though, so it doesn’t really count. And they are certainly not all here today.

This isn’t just for the ninth circle either, though. Those are the ultra-loyalists. He could literally extinguish the entire population of Extremus, and they would still be on his side, as long as they personally survived, of course. That’s obviously not on the table, but it’s important for him to know who those people are, and to keep them happy. Right now, he’s standing before the seventh circle, which includes the niners, and everyone in the eighth as well. Only the people in this room are even aware that the circles exist. The people in the sixth circle outwards can be trusted to varying degrees, but never enough to let them in on all this. Even so, he has to play this smart. He has to play it cool.

Waldemar is the one who came up with the vice captain program. It was great for him—it got him the job—but now it’s a threat. Most people expect him to step down to let the next one step up. He has no intention of doing that. He only allowed the program to continue to find his last true loyalists. Unfortunately, none of the candidates passed the secret tests he ran on them while they were undergoing the overt tests. So they’re not here. It’s time. It’s time to start planting the seeds. Will some intelligent people figure it out before the time comes? Yes. Will they voice their concerns? Absolutely. Will it matter? It won’t if he rewards his current army of loyalists...and curates more.

That is why there aren’t too many people here today. It will be their jobs to go out and start spreading the good word, so to speak. He first has to teach them subtlety, though. Well, he won’t be the one to teach them subtlety. He is not particularly good at it, because he still doesn’t understand human emotions. But he has someone right by his side for that. “And now—you all know him, you all love him—it’s my new steward...”

His late wife has been haunting him. He still doesn’t know how it’s possible, but Silveon claimed to have seen her too. That’s one reason he had to fire him. They’re not enemies, but he’s only in the fifth circle now. He just doesn’t get it. Ghost!Audrey doesn’t either. She keeps trying to get him to change his ways, but if anything, it’s made him more determined. She almost invariably shows up when he’s alone. That’s why it was so hard to prove to himself that she was a ghost, and not simply alive and teleporting around at will. But she’s here now. She has just suddenly appeared on stage right in front of his steward. Waldemar is too confused to stop himself. “Audrey Husk!”

The crowd was ramping up into another cheer, but they fall deathly silent. They know that name. They know it’s not the name of his steward. They don’t know what to think. It is certainly an odd mistake to make with no explanation. She has been gone for many years now. Why would he call his friend that, accidentally or otherwise?

Waldemar freezes. He has never been so embarrassed. No, he has never been embarrassed at all. He doesn’t feel shame, because he doesn’t care about other people’s opinions. How can he save himself now? What explanation could he give? “That’s right!” he decides to say. “It doesn’t matter what your name was, or what you prefer to be called! If I want to call you something else, that is exactly what I’ll do! You are now the new Audrey Husk! That’s the only name I’ll ever let you use! Accept it...or die!”

The new Audrey accepts it.

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Microstory 2738: Out-of-Context Problem

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Sora and Pribadium have no words. This is an out-of-context problem that neither of them can understand, especially not Sora. Pribadium comes on strongly once she does find the words, demanding to see this entity’s medpod results. She provides them freely. When her mind—whatever it is—downloaded into this substrate, it was not entirely coherent yet, but now she has a better understanding of what she is. The pod helped her relax so she could finish the integration process, and now she’s complete. She has since put on clothes, and is waiting patiently for a response from the humans.

Pribadium skims the data at first. “Your neural network is profoundly dense and complex. I can’t definitively say that it necessarily holds the...consciousness of a universe, but it’s certainly not the architecture of a normal human.”

“How could it be possible?” Sora questions. “The universe isn’t a thinking thing.”

“I’m not the personification of the universe itself,” Pribadium!Three—or whatever they should call her—explains. “You’re right, it doesn’t have a mind, and isn’t a person. It’s made up of a chaotic mess of baryonic matter and energy, held together by quintessence. Instead, I am the collective consciousness of everyone in the universe.”

Pribadium pauses to listen. “Wait, which universe, and how much of reality? Because if it’s the main sequence, we’re talking hundreds of billions of people. If it’s all of Salmonverse, it’s an undecillion.” That would be physically impossible. And it only includes sapient beings. What about the animals? Insects alone number in the trillions.

“It’s just the people in this pocket universe,” ...the Universe explains. They really need to come up with a real name for her. “So a few thousand people.”

“Ah, just the ones who got swept up in the transdimensional field,” Pribadium decides. “That sounds far more manageable, but still incredibly complicated. How are you feeling? All of my substrates are designed to be high-capacity, but I never imagined quite that number. Are they compressed? Are they dormant? Are you missing chunks?”

“All of those things,” the entity explains, “and more. I possess a highly efficient organizational structure, thanks to how you designed this substrate. When two source minds, for instance, shared a similar neural connection to each other, my mind averaged the associations, resulting in a more streamlined cognitive configuration.”

“So, you’re an entirely new person,” Sora figures. “You’re not the universe, you’re not an amalgamation. You’re a child...a child of all of us, with most of our memories.”

“That would be one way to put it,” the entity agrees.

“We need to come up with a name for you,” Sora decides. “For clarity.”

“Just call me Gatewood, I suppose,” she determines with a shoulder shrug.

“That would be ambiguous,” Sora replies. “And a bit impersonal.”

“That is not important right now,” Pribadium jumps back in. “Whoever you are, the medpod was not equipped to synthesize something of your nature. Nothing in my lab is. But with time, I can come up with something. Would you allow me to?”

“I trust you now, where I didn’t before. As I was saying, my mind was muddled when I first awoke, and your mind is not in here, but I know you second-hand.”

“Why wouldn’t I be in there?” Pribadium asks. “My alternate self, Pribadium!Two should have been a core consciousness. That’s who he was trying to save.”

“I wouldn’t know anything about that,” the woman says. “Go ahead and build what you need to build. I’m hungry. Do you have any fish fingers and custard?”

Microstory 2737: The Whole Universe

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Sora takes half a step forward. “You—”

“I will handle this,” Pribadium!One insists. “You have done quite enough, Mr. Shimizu.” She looks at her alternate self. “You were killed in a streaming dead zone,” she explains bluntly. “You were on a manned mission to explore and investigate a dimensional barrier. There is a gap between your memory and the moment of cessation. It is not entirely clear how long, though. Your consciousness may have been transmitted to the afterlife buffer. You may be a duplicate. I am sorry for your loss.”

The other Pribadium blinks as she looks between the two of them. “What is the last thing I should recall? Because I don’t remember any of that. I don’t know this dimensional barrier, I don’t know him, and I don’t know you.”

Pribadium!One winces. “I’m Pribadium, an alt of you.” She gestures towards her own face. “This is how we originally looked.” She stops for a moment to think. “Well, it’s not exactly how we used to look, but it’s fairly close. Who do you think you are?”

“I’m Pribadium,” the dupe contends, almost combatively. It doesn’t seem right to think of her as Pribadium!Two since so much has evidently been lost. “I don’t recognize your face at all. I don’t know what you mean by alt. I’m the only me that has ever been.”

Pribadium!One points to a nearby mirror. “Do you recognize that face?”

The other Pribadium walks towards it and touches her own chin and cheek. “Yes, this is the Stonehenge model. It explains why I have a British accent I suppose.”

“What did I do?” Sora questions. “Did I pull the wrong backup? I grabbed the second most recent one. I assumed the most recent one was you. It was time-stamped earlier today. There were no other iterations. How did this happen?” He is distraught.

Pribadium!One sighs. “There should have only been two, and you’re right, the most recent one would have been me. If you had pulled the wrong one, what should be happening is that she thinks she’s me. But she doesn’t think she’s either of us. Her mind has been entirely corrupted.” She clears her throat. “Pribadium!Three—that’s what we’re going to need to call you—I need to run some tests on you. Do I have your consent?”

Pribadium!Three stares at who she perceives to be a stranger. “I will run the tests. I don’t trust you, and I don’t need you.” She strips off what little clothing she has on, climbs into the nearest medical pod, and begins to operate it herself. She programs it for a full diagnostic run, which will include periods of unconsciousness. “I’m locking you out of the pod, but I would like you to leave the room as well.”

Pribadium!One starts to pull Sora away when he doesn’t move immediately.

“I’m sorry,” Sora desperately apologizes to the mysterious duplicate in the pod.

“It’s okay,” Pribadium!Three replies. “Je pense, donc je suis.”

Sora’s eyes widen, recalling that as the phrase he used for her as well. Still, he allows himself to be dragged out of the room. “Did you hear what she said?”

“Yes, it doesn’t mean anything. It’s only a coincidence,” Pribadium!One is not sure she believes that, though. She opens her mouth to continue, but he interrupts.

“Don’t say what you’re going to say. I know, I was rash and impulsive. I’m sorry.”

What’s done is done, so they just wait out in the corridor for Pribadium!Three to finish. She comes out half an hour later. “I know what I am now. I’m not Pribadium.”

“Who are you then?” Pribadium!One presses.

“I’m the universe.”

Extremus: Year 139

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Sable has been playing a one-sided game here, which is to be expected, because for the longest time, Silveon was too. A few months ago, Waldemar revealed to her that he had been seeing and interacting with his late wife. Either he is sparse on the details, or Sable didn’t relay everything to Silveon when she told Silveon about it yesterday. He doesn’t know why she waited this long, but he can’t argue with her about it. They have a very fragile partnership, and it’s the only one he has, so he doesn’t want to lose it.

He asked Sable for more information, but she didn’t give it. He doesn’t know how this is changing Waldemar. Their relationship has grown more strained over time as the latter focuses on maintaining his power, and his relationship with Sable. They are probably more or less in a holding pattern, though. He is coming up on a crossroads in his career. In the original timeline, Waldemar threw the rule book out the airlock, and declared himself the One True Captain of Extremus, Eighth of Eight. His acolytes came up with the chant, “eight! Eight! Eight!” When spoken out loud, it sounded like they were saying hate, hate, hate, which in a way, they were very much saying exactly that.

Out of all of their goals, this is the big one. In five years, his and Audrey’s hard work will either pay off, or fail. Will Waldemar do what he did before, or will he follow procedure, and step to the side for a new captain? They were never trying to make him into a saint, but if they can end the tyranny, all of their sacrifices might prove worth it. The question for Silveon right now, though, is who or what is Audrey? He has a decent idea, but he doesn’t want to go digging around to confirm it, because it could mess with what’s happening. He needs to better understand what this Audrey ghost is telling Waldemar, so they know if she’s a threat to the plan, or a boon. It’s gonna be tricky.

“Hey, W,” Silveon says when the door opens for him. “What’s up?”

“What did you want, Sil?” Waldemar questions. He doesn’t sound happy, but he doesn’t sound mad either. He’s concentrating on whatever is on his table at the moment.

This is where Silveon has to be careful. If the Audrey who Waldemar is seeing isn’t the least bit real—like a temporal echo from the past, or a mental projection—and if Waldemar knows that it’s only in his head, Silveon’s next words will be an obvious lie. He might be able to save face, but it depends on the wording he chooses. “I wanted to talk to someone, and I think you’re the only one who may understand. You cared about her as much as I; or more, rather. I can’t trust anyone else.”

Waldemar freezes but stays on his tablet. “Cared about who?”

“Audrey,” Silveon answers. “I’ve been...seeing her. Kind of in the corner of my eye? She doesn’t talk. I thought it was only in my head, but it’s just too real. She’s older, ya know? She’s aged like us even though she’s been gone for so long already. I dunno, I mean, my brain could certainly conceive of that, but stranger things have happened too. Maybe...maybe it’s real. Do you think she could be real?”

Waldemar stares at the man who he once called a friend, and is now becoming a stranger by the day. He stares for a long time. “Of course not, Silveon. Audrey’s dead. Time travel is illegal. It’s the only set of laws I never touched. Go see a psychologist.”

Shit. Their trust is gone completely. Well, at least he’s not angry, or becoming violent. Still, he’s playing this close to the vest, which means that Sable remains the only hope they have of getting through to him, and averting his dark fate.

Silveon shakes his head, bids his farewell, then respectfully bows out of the room.

He returns to his own quarters, defeated. Life should have an undo button.

“Hey,” a voice says from behind him. It’s Audrey. “We need to talk.”

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Microstory 2730: Time Spent

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Time may be an important factor. It is hard to tell how delicate their position is. The dimensional barriers could snap under the gravitational and quintessential weight as the two opposing forces fight each other for supremacy, with the Gatewood Collective caught in the middle. Pribadium!Two believes that their laboratory sits on the very edge of the unique spatial bubble that the star system is in. She selected this secret location specifically because of its distance from everyone and everything else.

“Why wouldn’t it be in the center? This is where the time machine is,” Sora notes.

“Exactly,” Pribadium!Two agrees. “It was not omnidirectional. The spatial warping spread out from here, towards the gravitational barycenter of the system, which is in Barnard’s Star. That’s why half the system isn’t in the pocket universe.”

Sora regards her in disgust for a moment before redirecting his attention to Pribadium!One. “So you just let her out of her cell, and we trust her now?”

“She’s helping us. We need her,” Pribadium!One explains. “Sorry to brag, but two heads are better than one if they’re both my head.”

Sora scoffs. “She’s the one who told me that I couldn’t speak with Elke.”

“For now, it’s true,” Pribadium!Two starts to say.

Sora holds up a dismissive hand. “I was talking to the real Pribadium.”

“She’s right,” Pribadium!One explains. “It’s not just a calibration issue. If we disturb the balance that we have managed to achieve here, it could all fall apart.”

Pribadium!Two nods. “Yeah, and—”

“Zip it,” Sora interrupts again. “What exactly does that mean? What happens if it falls apart? Do you mean we all die? Because you don’t seem too distressed about it.”

Pribadium!One sees how Sora is treating her alternate self, but she feels compelled to ignore it, and answer his question. “People here will be fine, as long as the star stays inside of the pocket too, which I don’t see why it wouldn’t. It’s holding every atom together so the quintessence doesn’t pull it apart. What we’re trying to do is create a permanent equilibrium, and to do it in an extradimensional realm called the bulk.”

“I don’t care about that. I want to see Elke again, I want to reunite with my people, in whatever reality it is, and I want us to settle down in a new home,” he reasons.

Pribadium!Two starts to talk as quickly as she can. “And you can still do that—”

“I don’t wanna hear from you again!” Sora shouts. “Your opinion doesn’t matter!”

“Hey,” Pribadium!One jumps in. “Sora, I know you got some rest, and that put you back to your old self, which I find...incredibly annoying, but I have seen a kinder version of you. You have it in you to show respect at all times. You’re not Mr. Hyde.”

“I don’t know who this Hyde guy is, but this is the real me,” Sora contends. “This is who I am. The man I am when I’m tired is weak, and a pushover. I hate him. He’s—”

“Thirteen months,” Pribadium!Two interrupts, giving him his own medicine.

“What?” Pribadium!One questions.

Pribadium!Two looks directly at Sora. “We were together for thirteen—I mean, we weren’t together. We...well, we weren’t nothing. I just mean...I didn’t know how much time we needed to fix the past, so I intentionally overshot it. We spent over a year making sure that the Teaguardians never had any reason to destroy Doma Tertia.”

“Then where am I now?” Sora pressed. “You never did say. I find that—”

“You’re dead! You sacrificed yourself!” Pribadium!Two breathes. “For me.”

Microstory 2728: Talking to Yourself

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This. This is why Pribadium doesn’t like to travel through time, because it causes headaches. Just because someone looks like you, doesn’t mean they share your values. Even if you can prove beyond a shadow of a doubt that they are a version of you, you might not be able to trust them. They have been through different experiences. Even if you literally split from each other moments ago, one of you was standing on the left, while the other was on the right. That may not seem like much to a human observer, but that can alter your whole perspective, and with each passing second, the differences only compound. Many time travelers recommend not seeing your alternates as that at all, but as entirely distinct people. Trust, but verify, as you would a stranger.

With Sora’s help, Pribadium!One has locked Pribadium!Two in a special holding cell. Since she’s the one who created it, one might assume that she has a way out of it; that she knows its secrets. It doesn’t work like that. Pribadium knew that something like this could happen. It was designed with that in mind, which is why the codes are random. She didn’t think she would ever have to use this feature, but it was always a possibility. She can’t risk the other her finding a way out just by drawing from their memories. One of them is the prisoner, and one of them is the warden. Only the warden has the code, and it was given to her as soon as that door shut tight.

“Are you going to give me the chance to explain myself?” Pribadium!Two asks.

“What good would that do?” Pribadium!One snaps back. “We’re a liar.”

“You used the collective singular there,” Pribadium!Two points out, “yet you’re othering me at the same time. You can’t have it both ways, so to speak. Hear me out.”

“You threatened to kill me, and now you want me to talk and listen to reason? Oh, honey. Our point of divergence must have been more significant than I knew.”

“I was never going to kill you,” Pribadium!Two contends. “I just wanted to shock you for a sec, so you wouldn’t simply roll your eyes and use the communicator anyway.”

“And look where that got you,” Pribadium!One points out, pointing at the cell.

Pribadium!Two shakes her head. “But it worked, didn’t it? Now you can’t use that communicator because you’re wondering what might be worse than me killing you.”

“But you just said that—”

“It doesn’t matter that I was lying,” Pribadium!Two reasons. “You can’t take that risk. You’re too smart for that. So tell me, do you want me to explain why you can’t use that communicator, regardless of whether you calibrate it for the reality that we’re in?”

Pribadium!One shakes her head again. She doesn’t know what to do in this situation. Hearing her out could do damage, even if it’s only words. Still. Even if the only reason Pribadium!Two doesn’t want her to try it is because it might reveal that this is the main sequence, and the rightful reality in the universe, it’s not a great reason. They would work it out. She wouldn’t let the other reality die. They’re not monsters. Right?

“I can practically see the gears turning in your head,” Pribadium!Two muses. “Have a seat, and I’ll explain. It’s not only about the transversal communicator.”

Pribadium!One stares at her alternate self. It probably won’t hurt to hear the explanation, but she can’t give someone who threatened her life the satisfaction. “When we were down on Doma Tertia, Sora left me in a cell alone for twelve days.”

“No,” Pribadium!Two argues, knowing where this is going.

“I will see you in twenty-four.” Pribadium!One leaves.

Microstory 2715: Leaning Forward and Ready to Leave

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It’s over. Well, the first part of Isavet’s plan is anyway. She has learned what she needed to, and she had a plausible reason to learn it. She was born under the Nordome Network, or whatever it is. It was her home. She was just following what the gamemakers set up for her. Had she left, started a life on the outside, and then tried to commit to this training, it would have looked suspicious. Or rather, it could have. She doesn’t actually know that, because she doesn’t know what life is like away from the Nordic nations. She is going to leave soon, but she has to find her family first.

Caleb takes her back, but she doesn’t let him follow her this time. Helping with her revenge efforts was noble and very nice of him. She appreciated it. But she is in no physical danger here. It is deeply personal. He respects her decision to end the simulation here. He gave her his contact information, so they can reconnect on the outside. He and his men are going to go back down south, and continue on with their ancient Norse ways. He doesn’t know when he’s going to leave, but it probably won’t be too long. You’re evidently supposed to stay for a lifetime, but you don’t have to, and it kind of feels like he’s grown bored of it. And he probably wants to connect with Isavet, though in other ways, and he can’t do that unless he’s on the outside too.

“Father,” Isavet says. She has finally found them. She has found Ronan at last. She doesn’t see anyone else here. “Where are mother, Vith, and Leif?”

“They’ve gone, my child,” her father says. He takes her into a big hug. “This is no place for a boy like Leif. I am here to invite you to come with us. Now, I’m sure you’re nervous, and you have every right to see this world as—”

“I want to leave,” she interrupts. “I completed my work, and I want to see what else is out there. I may be okay with the violence here, in a way that Leif never was, but it’s still not real. It was only catharsis. I needed to see it through, because that is how you raised me. But now I’m ready to see how you live. Take me out of here, father.”

He smiles proudly. “Okay,” Ronan says. “Let us head for the nearest exit.”

Isavet nods, and follows him as he walks off, not bothering to break down camp. “How did you know that I was back? Can you watch me on your cameras?”

“No, I’ve been here. That is why I told you where we would be.”

“What?” Isavet questions. He shouldn’t have stayed here, all this time. He had no idea how long she was going to take. It could have been years. That might not mean much to immortals like him, but she would have felt really, really bad about it, instead of just really bad. “I can’t believe you did that. Do you not miss your son?”

“I do, but you’re important to me too. What you said, needing to see this through? I respect that immensely. I do not have access to security cameras. I had to stay.”

Isavet frowns. Her guilt will remain at least another several months, she’s sure.

Ronan stops and bends down over a patch of grass. “I wish to officially declare my intention to leave the simulation. Please raise the lift for egress.” The ground parts for him. A block of it ascends from the ground. A door opens leading to a small room. “It’s okay, Isavet. This will take us to our new home. Our family awaits.”

She trusts him. Isavet steps in first, followed by Ronan. The doors close on their own. The chirpings of a bird she is not familiar with soothe her as the walls and floor shake. She’s not scared, though. This is what is meant to happen. After a few minutes, this lift object stops. The doors reopen. The first thing she sees is a computer.

Microstory 2710: She Will Learn

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Isavet has left her home. She lived there for over half her life, but it was constantly under attack, and it never felt safe. It has had consequences for her mind and soul. She is angry, and she knows this about herself. In this world, might makes right. If you own something, and you can keep it away from anyone else, it belongs to you rightly. Everyone else feels the same way, and likes to test those principles. Instead of making a life for themselves, they take from others. Isavet isn’t angry at the world for working that way. She knows that she could even leave if she wants to. But that doesn’t mean she’s going to let it go. Okay, so they were more mighty today. But what about tomorrow? She has gone away from her family in the pursuit of revenge for the clan that burned her home down. She told her father that she would return to them some day, but she could not have genuinely promised that. In all likelihood, she is marching towards her death. She is fully prepared for that, but she’s gonna take those men down with her.

In this culture, women typically do not fight. They do not go a-viking. But it is not entirely prohibited. If Isavet proves her mettle, others will accept her. She will have to train five times as hard, and she will always be looked down upon, but she is not going to let that stop her. In fact, she is going to use her status, and their perception of her, to her advantage. Everyone will probably underestimate her, and that is totally fine with her, because once their blood meets her blade, it will taste just as sweet upon her tongue. She knows that none of them is actually a real person. She doesn’t wholly understand it, but she doesn’t need to. These are the circumstances under which she was born. She will fight as they fight against her. That is their way.

Her father, Ronan wanted her to go to the city, find a particular blacksmith, and ask him to train her. He says that she can trust no one else, but he is not right about that. The truth is that she can trust no one at all. She can’t trust the stranger, or even her family, because they wouldn’t understand. They let her go. They gave her their blessings, but they would never do something like this. That is the lesson that she is trying to teach herself as she walks down the road. Her mother and father gave her everything she needed up until this point. But now she needs to figure out her own future. She can’t do that around them. She can’t do it around him. He was a great father to her, and she loves him dearly, but he’s too soft. He still sees this as nothing more than a game. It’s not his fault. He’s only spent a fraction of his life here. Isavet has known nothing else. It is all very real to her. One day, she will leave this so-called dome, but that day is not today.

She walked in the general direction of the town, but once she was sure that no one was following her, Isavet veered off. It would be just like her older brother, Vith, to track her in an attempt to protect her, be it at their parents’ direction, or on his own. She has grown accustomed to knowing when he’s around, however, so she is confident that they respected her wishes to do this alone. She is going to miss her little brother, Leif, most of all. She feels like a second mother to him. He needed it, on these dangerous lands. He doesn’t need her anymore, though. He’s growing up, and they’re headed for a safer region of Danmörk. He was not built for this kind of life. That is exactly why she is risking everything. She wants to make it safer, should they choose to stay, which they probably won’t. She thinks she is where she needs to be now. There’s an encampment of mercenaries up ahead. They won’t be very nice, but she will make them help her. She just needs to hurt one of them first.

Extremus: Year 131

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Silveon is depressed and missing his best friend. He doesn’t know what Audrey is doing, or even if she’s okay. They can’t communicate. Just opening up the mini-Nexus is a risk. It is the last thing that they want Captain Kristiansen knowing about. He doesn’t regret his decision, breaking her out of hock, and sending her away. It was the right thing to do. It’s still hard, feeling like he’s all alone now. His mother’s gone, his father’s gone, and now Audrey. They knew each other for over a hundred years, and fought side by side for more than half as long. That is what makes it sad, but also what makes it okay. A lot of people don’t get a partner nearly as fulfilling as Audrey. It was great; it’s over now. He has no choice but to move on, and keep himself occupied with the work.

He is still serving as the Captain’s personal steward, though their relationship has transformed into a more professional dynamic, rather than the friendship they started with. Silveon is losing his grip on Waldemar’s ankle, which allows Waldemar to run off and start making his own choices. Looking back, this was inevitable. He’s growing up and growing out of the way he was before. That’s what everyone does, to some degree. Silveon himself is no exception. He doesn’t want to give up, but there was only ever so much he could do. Since they made the conscious decision not to kill him, at some point, they have to accept the cards that they’ve been dealt. The thing about this timeline, as it was in the first one, is that no one man can take control over everything. The reason he was able to garner so much support from the populace was that they gave it to him. That hasn’t changed. He may be lying to them in a way, but they’re choosing to believe it.

If the crew and passengers don’t want things to fall apart, they have to take responsibility over that. This is something that Silveon and Audrey didn’t even think about. They thought it was all on them, but that’s too much pressure. Just contemplating all of this now, Silveon is wondering if sending Aud to go find her own happiness is exactly what he should do too. He has no plans to travel to Verdemus, but does he really need to be a steward, or Waldemar’s steward? Has he not done enough, in all this time? He’s so exhausted. A part of him thinks that anyone else would have walked away by now. Again, it was never all on them. There was another possible way to tackle this problem, by formulating a resistance early on, and being truthfully vocal about Waldemar’s destiny. They elected not to do it that way, and the opportunity has passed him by now, but it would have been a hell of a lot less work, in the end.

“Hey.” It’s Sable. They can’t trust her anymore. Or rather, he should say that he can’t, because now there’s no one left. Lataran is old, and like his parents before, genuinely does need to be able to take a step back. Sable is just weird, and she has her own agenda. “I just wanted to check on you. It’s been a long time since we’ve spoken.”

“Nothing to speak about,” he replies. He didn’t tell her where Audrey was. He opted to not even come up with a cover story. She just disappeared, and it’s an unsolved mystery. Waldemar came up with his own cover about her wanting to step out of the spotlight, so to anyone else on Extremus thinking about it, she’s somewhere around here at all times, just not where any given person happens to be looking at the moment.

She sighs. “I know that you and I were never really close, and we’ve lost a lot of trust, but I’m still on your side. I hope you know that. And to prove it, I’ll show you what I’ve been working on.” She acts like she’s going to access an auxiliary interface, but suddenly pulls a gun out of her pocket and shoots Silveon on the right side of his chest.

As he’s bleeding out, he sees Sable split in two. One version of her lifts her hands up, and gradually pulls them towards her shoulders. The bullet flies out of Silveon’s chest, and back into the gun as the wound seals itself up. The two versions of her then remerge into one. She has just somehow reversed time, and also entropy. He still remembers the pain, though. “I didn’t know you could do that.”

“I couldn’t always,” Sable explains. “It’s not all I can do either. The rest of your support system is gone. Not only do I know that you sent Audrey to Verdemus, but I also know that she’s dead. I can take you to the funeral without anyone knowing. We can walk right up there, and then basically trim that whole span of time out of the ship’s collective knowledge, replacing it with something more mundane. But you have to trust me, and you have to let me in. This is the last time I ask you. I will never be on Waldemar’s side, but if you don’t agree to me being your new partner right now, I won’t be on yours anymore either. I am sorry it had to come to this.”

Silveon looks at her for a moment while he massages his chest. “Fine.”

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Microstory 2695: Isavet Arrives, Talus Survives

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Ronan is a fool. He failed to recognize the mechanics of the simulation. It’s true, a robo-goat can’t likely eat grass and convert it into milk. That level of glandular engineering veers too far into the territory of true organic life. If the Custodians of this dome are trying to keep everything vegan, it’s a line that they would not cross. But that doesn’t mean it’s a loophole he can exploit. The sim expects the goat to eat grass, and it expects the mama goat to give its kids milk. If that process is halted, you have cheated, and the Custodians put a stop to it. So he changes tactics. He lives as he’s meant to live. He lost sight of the whole reason they came here in the first place, but he won’t make that mistake again. He needs to make sure that Talus survives, but he won’t do that by breaking the rules. That’s not what Mayumi would want, nor Talus himself. When he’s old enough, and his brain starts to rewire itself to remember all the things that Talus did as a full grown man, he will appreciate Ronan’s dedication.

It’s been another several weeks now, and things have only grown harder. Talus is having trouble with the goat milk. It’s not really what he’s supposed to drink, but it’s all they have available. His body needs more. And then she walks in. Gia. She shows up out of the blue holding her own baby, tears in her eyes, asking for a place to rest for the night, and maybe a little food. Ronan is suspicious. It honestly looks like a gift. The Custodians would be able to see how much he’s struggling, so they’re helping him out. How can he trust this person who shows up right when he is at his lowest, carrying the very thing he needs to keep his best friend and child alive in her body? It is too convenient. She has to be a plant. She might not even be an organic human. She might be just like the goats. He has to know the truth, so he simply asks her. “I know we’re not supposed to talk about this, but are you an NPC?”

She switches her baby to her other arm. “Why would I be an NPC?”

“I just have to ask, I’m sorry. I’m seeing the seams in the simulation, and it’s messing with my head. The goats. The goats aren’t—”

“I know what the goats are,” Gia interrupts. “I read up on the laws and ethics of this planet when I came here. They don’t have to follow Earthan laws, but that doesn’t mean they don’t. I assure you, I’m real, and I need help.”

Ronan has just finished building an addition to their home. He was pretty early in the process when Mayumi was still alive. He stopped needing it after she died, but he kept working anyway because when he commits to something, he commits. “We have the space, but I would kindly ask you for something in return.”

She frowns. “You’ll forgive me, sir, but my body is mine.”

“I respect that, but my son has no mother, and he’s been missing nutrients...”

“Oh. Oh, you need milk? Milk, I have aplenty. My breasts, they overproduce. I did not know what I was asking for when I filled out the request for a pregnant-capable substrate. What’s your baby’s name? This is Isavet. As you said, we should not talk about this, but the father quit. He didn’t even know I was pregnant, and I don’t want to break character to send him a message.”

“Same thing happened to me,” Ronan replies, “though she didn’t quit by choice.”

“Oh.”

“But it’s okay. We’ll see each other again one day. Come on inside.”

She goes inside. They stay there together for years, ultimately falling in love.

Microstory 2680: Brooke, Bungula, and Blood-Brain Barriers

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Resi has big plans to break into the Assembly Chambers, and find out all their secrets, but he can’t act on his rage just yet. He is still so weak. Father doesn’t think he will ever be strong enough to be part of the physical aspect, but surprisingly, he doesn’t say no to the plans altogether. He decides that, even though they managed to get their ally, Keller, in a position of power, it hasn’t been enough. They have been at this for decades, and still haven’t moved the needle, he laments. Resi isn’t so sure about that. If the insanity of the last few years is any indication, it must be a maddeningly constant battle. Things could be far worse if they chose to stay out of it. In that theoretical reality, Yana might be a police state, or an entirely apocalyptic nightmare. That is what Resi needs to focus on while he is recovering. He asks to see Caprice, since she is the only one he can trust with this particular task who would also have hypothetical access.

She is able to procure him one dose of the Kidjum elixir, and doesn’t even argue that it’s dangerous for him to take it. She doesn’t know how important it is for him to conjure a vision. She doesn’t even know about the visions in the first place, but she believes in him. He loves her for that. The house is empty now. She has offered to stay by his bedside and be responsible for his care while the rest of the family is out in the fields, or in Kala’s case, attending what are potentially her final days of school. The Assembly still wants to drop the age of majority, in labor terms. It still hasn’t taken effect. Those who will turn twelve before the official start date will grandfathered in, but they might be expected to go through it when they turn thirteen in a year, or maybe fourteen. It is all still high up in the air, and hopefully it never comes to that anyway. They have to do everything they can to put a stop to it.

Resi accepts the dose, and lies back down on his pillow. He might be the only person in the universe who has done this more than once. Now it’s three times? There’s no other choice. The first time, he had no idea what he was in for. The second time, he didn’t know it was going to happen at all. Now is his chance to take control of the reins. Earlier, he read up on lucid dreaming techniques; data he downloaded from the Bungulan network while he was briefly on Anchor Island. He shuts his eyes, and lets the solution flow through his veins, and break the blood-brain barrier.

The next thing he knows, he’s lying in a hospital bed. Kartica is looking down on him with that weird little smirk that she has had since she reyoungified herself. “What the hell are you doing here?” he demands to know. “What did you do to me?”

“Resi, don’t you know, there’s a reason Kidjum elixir is so regulated. This is dangerous stuff. You can’t just take it whenever you’re thirsty”.

“You’re the one who wants me to see the future. Now that I’m actually trying, you’re trying to stop me? Make up your mind, granny.”

“I’m not doing anything of the sort. Res, you have the power to see the future. The elixir taps into it, but it comes from you. If you had taken the real stuff, you may have died. I saved your life by switching the vials. You’re welcome. You need to learn how to trigger a vision without aid. It’s the only way you’ll avoid the negative consequences.”

“Oh, and I suppose you’re the only one who can teach me how to do that.”

“No.” Kartica steps to the side to let someone else dominate Resi’s field of vision.

“Hello, Mr. Brooks,” the woman begins. “My name is Brooke Prieto. I believe that you’re named after me?”

Microstory 2672: Allegiance

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Resi demanded to speak with the Assembly, or whoever was trying to stop House Kutelin from exiling to Anchor Island. They refused, as always, but Zenith and the Bungulans were not happy about it. The purpose of this island is to facilitate movement and communication. Refusing to meet your opponent is the first sign of being on the wrong side. So Zenith pretty much forced it to happen. Since Speaker Lincoln committed suicide, she was replaced by the next in line. Sherman is now the interim Speaker, and will serve in this capacity until a new appointment can be made. He brought his granddaughter here for some reason. She is fifteen years old—having not yet gone through her Kidjum—and Resi has never heard of her before, but she looks familiar, like she showed up in a dream once recently, or something. That can’t be it, though. He hasn’t dreamed even once since his botched Kidjum. She really has no business being here, but he can’t argue against it. She looks at him like she knows something he doesn’t, which she surely does.

“Can we all be civil, or do I need to remain here to mediate?” Zenith asks.

“You may go,” Speaker Sherman tells her.

“You do not need to mediate,” Resi begins, like he’s going to agree. “But stay anyway. They are your guests. I would like you to see who they are.”

Zenith closes her eyes and bows slightly before taking a seat against the wall.

It’s important that Resi speaks first, so he can seize the upper hand. “Tell me. Where do you expect us to go? You won’t allow us to return to Yana, and you won’t let us live here. So what other options do we have? What do you want, or think we should do? Should we kill ourselves, like your coward of a former leader?”

Sherman isn’t pleased by his words, but his granddaughter has the strongest reaction. She doesn’t speak, though. “It may sound like a contradiction, but I assure you that it’s not. You may not stay on Yana. You may not live here on Anchor Island,” Speaker Sherman says.

“There’s nowhere else!” Resi cries. That was the wrong move. He has lost his advantage now. He needs to stay calm and in control. Let his enemy see no emotion. No one ever taught him that, it just makes sense.

Sherman is successfully managing to follow Resi’s internal advice, so it must be the right call, at least in theory. “I am not here to give you answers, or options, only restrictions. It is our job to manage the affairs of the Tamboran nation, and to engage with other cultures when necessary. House Kutelin is not a culture whose sovereignty we recognize. Therefore, there is nothing we can do for you.”

The other Fold Leaders begin to yell and argue against his ridiculous position. Resi motions for them to relax. “You may not think that you owe us anything, and the truth may be that you don’t. But if you don’t answer me, you will be the ones declaring war against House Kutelin, not the other way around. We do exist, and the other Houses know us. You may tear us down, and wipe us out, but your will lose your power over Tambora. The people will not stand by. You will lose your reëlections, and you will have accomplished nothing good. Is that what you want?”

Sherman only smiles. “I’ve told you, I’m not here to give you any answers. This conversation is over.” He looks over at Zenith. “I have fulfilled my promise. I gave him five minutes. Now we’re done. Please arrange my transport home. Resi and his people must leave within one day, and the rest of his House must leave Yana a week after that. If I find out you’ve been harboring any members of House Kutelin after that, the Accords will be broken, and you know what that means.”

“I do.” Zenith wasn’t happy, but she wasn’t going to go against him either.

No one on this planet has the authority to do anything. If that’s true, then maybe he should stop asking for what he needs. Maybe he should just take it.

Resi watches the Speaker and the Assembly walk out of the room. As she passes by, Sherman’s daughter flings something from her device to his. He doesn’t look at it until they’ve all left. It’s a note from her. She wants to meet on the rock beach. Alone.

Here it is. Here’s where the relative or assistant swoops in with a knowledge bomb, and our hero has to decide if she can be trusted or not. In half the movies, she can be, and in the other half, she can’t. If she can’t, and is still loyal to the villain, the hero seemingly takes her advice anyway, only for it to turn out that he knew the truth the whole time, and was playing the long game to dupe them both. There is no workaround for this trope. If you operate inside of the system, there is no way to beat that system. The reality of her loyalties, and the hero’s actions, are equally dictated by the needs of the story. This is real life, which means what he chooses here could result in failure, and even casualties. No author is trying to make it more interesting, or lead things down the right path.

“You’re not going alone,” Vantu insists. “You must be protected.” Vantu is a bit of a brute, but a very kind one, and very protective of anyone smaller or weaker. That’s usually not Resi himself, but he’s been particularly clingy on this trip due to the high stakes. Still, it won’t be necessary. Resi already has a plan.

“If they want to hurt me, there are easier ways to do it. A Bungulan-run island is the worst place to try something fishy. They got drones flying all over the place.”

“They only react so quickly,” Vantu argues, “and won’t be able to stop anything. Let me stay out of earshot, but in line of sight, so she knows she’s being monitored.”

“Really, it won’t be necessary, but I’ll let you walk with me,” Resi tells him.

He follows the girl’s directions, and heads towards the beach. He sees her standing there on the rocks, hair blowing in the wind. She’s changed her clothes into an asymmetrical shawl loosely wrapped around her waist, and what at this distance looks like a flower bikini top. She must think that he will listen to her because of it. He doesn’t advertise his asexuality but he doesn’t hide it either. If she’s done her homework, she’ll know that this won’t work. Or maybe she’s just hot. They are in the tropics, after all. He shouldn’t assume what her motivations are. He has no clue who she really is, or what she wants. He can’t trust her, though, that much is absolutely certain. She appears to be rather patient. She’s not folding her arms, or even shifting her weight between legs. She’s a statue, which may be telling him all he needs to know.

Resi looks over his own shoulder at Vantu, who nods, acknowledging that this is where he will remain so he doesn’t interfere with whatever is exchanged here. It doesn’t matter. Resi turns back at the stranger. He slowly draws his open hand up against his forehead in salute. Then he steadily swings it forward dramatically. If he could see her face from this distance, it would probably look confused. He doesn’t go up to see if he’s right. He just turns and walks away. The only way to win this game is to refuse to play.