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.

Microstory 2668: Brooks Without an E

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Resi walks into the common area of his wing where everyone is watching his nationwide address. Most of the kids here are from his Fold, but there are a few from different Folds. The TV version of him is just finishing up his speech. “To reiterate, House Kutelin is here to stay, but we are no longer accepting new members, and will be doing what we can to reinstitute the Kidjum so that Tambora can successfully return to its roots, and begin letting our collective subconscious help us find a happy and prosperous place for all adult citizens of the island. Thank you.”

The broadcast ends, everyone looks back at present moment Resi. “Sir, I don’t understand,” Banu says. “I thought we were starting a revolution.”

“We—” He has to clear his throat. “We don’t have the space or resources to take in more. Aren’t there three people in your room? Which one of you sleeps on the floor?”

“We were waiting for you to fix that for us,” Banu replies. “Something’s changed.”

“Yeah, who got to you? Speaker Lincoln?” Nita guesses.

“No, it wasn’t someone from the Assembly,” Banu says to Nita.

“Right. What did the Ambassadors say to you?” another boy, Rimba presses. “You spoke with them, and suddenly you’re on board with the Kidjum?”

“The Kidjum was supposed to return days ago,” Resi reminds them. “The Ambassadors have nothing to do with it. We can’t stop them from going back to the old ways. I wasn’t helping them before, but it’s gotten out of control. We’re being exiled, and we still don’t have anywhere to go. How am I meant to feed all of you?”

“So why have we been sabotaging the Kidjum this whole time if we didn’t want any more kids to join us?” Darima questions.

What the hell is she talking about? Resi telescopes his neck as far as possible. “Who’s been sabotaging the Kidjums? I’ve not ordered anyone to sabotage the Kidjums.”

“We’ve been wetting the coals to prevent them from conducting the fire ceremony,” Darima goes on. “We’ve been stealing sheets and cots, and sending cancellation messages to fifteen-year-olds, redirecting them here.”

Resi looks around at his Fold to see about half agree with Darima. Half look just as confused as he is. As his heart sinks, it buoys back up just a little bit when it appears Chaya is one of the clueless. He wouldn’t know what to do if he found out that the person he was leaving his sister with betrayed them. “Who told you to do that?”

Now everyone has a look of confusion on their face. “You did, sir,” Darima claims. “You’ve been sending messages this whole time. You were quite specific about what you wanted us to do. You even gave us keys to the Tadungeria.”

“I don’t have keys to the Tadungeria,” Resi argues, “because we don’t use it, because we don’t do the Kidjums. I don’t know who you’ve been talking to, but it wasn’t me. Raise your hand if anyone has spoken to me in person about stealing cots, or drowning coal.” He nods when no one raises their hand. “Well, there’s your answer.”

“It came from your address, see?” another girl claims, who isn’t even in his Fold, and probably shouldn’t be here for this discussion. Except apparently, this goes beyond this wing, to other members of the House. She shows him her device.

“I’m taking this.” He scans the group. “Where’s Arumay?” Their techiest tech wiz.

“Right here.” She’s behind him.

He hands her the device. “Find out who’s doing this, and how.” He goes back to the crowd. “From now on, you don’t do anything unless I tell you in person. This created an enemy that we don’t want. We can’t go up against a whole nation’s soldiers, and if the other nations get involved, that’s goodbye House Kutelin. Get ready to see God.”

Arumay hands Resi the device back after having barely any time to check it. “No one hacked the network. They just typosquatted. The emails came from resi dot brookes with an e in your last name, rather than resi dot brooks.” She scowls at everyone. “They’re just idiots. I think I remember getting an email from that address, inviting me to a new distribution pod. It went straight to my spam because I have decent filters.”

Resi sighs, and takes a moment to compose himself before he says something bad. “We are not sabotaging anyone. To be clear, this is not a revolution, a rebellion, or an insurgency. We were told that a fifth House was an option. We have since been told that it is no longer an option, and that we must leave. I can get us through this, but you have to work with me, not against me. Pay attention to the way we spell words. I will never just send you an order to do something that you’ve never done before. We will always have talked first. I was going to be fully transparent with you, but now I know that I have to keep secrets, like the Assembly. The Kidjum is not just something that we are allowing because they’re giving us no choice. Letting it go on is absolutely integral to my plan to find us a new home. I won’t tell you more than that, because now I don’t know who I can trust. One of you impersonated me and committed treason. Until I find out who that is, you’re going to have to trust me without reciprocation.”

“We thought this was going to make our lives better,” Kasati contends. “We thought we were helping push the island into the 26th century. But if things are going to go back to the way they were, and we’re not going to fight it, what are we even doing here still? My dream was probably gonna lead me to join Ilah. I might have ended up being adopted by your birth family. You took that from me with your lies. It doesn’t matter if we read the messages wrong. What they were telling us to do was exactly what we should be doing, and if we’re going to stop, then I’m going to demand that the Assembly allow me a latent Kidjum to make up for what I missed. But that’s up to you, Res. Is what you’re doing helping, or should we quit while we’re ahead?”

Resi shakes his head. “The Assembly never said that make-up Kidjums would be an option, but please, before you flood their inboxes with requests, allow me to ask on your behalf. If you wanna leave, you can leave, but if your exile applies whether you stay with us or not, you should know that there is no returning. You would be choosing to be exiled alone, and I won’t help you find a new place to live. I only help Kutelins. Give me two days to reach out to the Speaker before you make any irreversible decisions for yourself. And for the love of Yana, leave the Kidjums that are moving ahead alone.”

Some seem agreeable. Others look embarrassed for having been fooled by the fake emails. A few are still indignant, and will likely continue to be a problem.

“Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to go make a new video so that our whole House knows where we stand, and that what I say goes. I’m First Tongue of Aether, I speak first. It will be coming from resi dot brooks, no e.” He leans over to Arumay as they’re dispersing. “Find out who sent those other messages. I wanna know who’s trying to get us killed.” Wait. “No e in my last name,” he clarifies to his Fold. “There is one in Resi.” He shouldn’t have to dumb this down. Maybe not everyone deserves to be in his Fold.

Microstory 2663: The Duty Republic

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Resi’s new responsibilities will begin tomorrow, though he will need time to prepare, so the work actually starts right away. An average of 31 kids turn 16 every day, so the next batch has already begun their cleansing ritual. He remembers his own cleansing like it was yesterday, because it was! Now they’re putting him in charge of the whole thing. Kokore apprentices train for years before they even perform one ceremony without supervision. And it’s not like watching them work on stage would prepare someone to fill in. There’s all sorts of other things going on behind the scenes that Resi doesn’t even know about. He doesn’t even know what he doesn’t know. He just assumes that there’s more to it. For him, it’s even worse. They want him for a job that hasn’t been done in two hundred years, with no education, experience, or aptitude, and no manual. This has to be some kind of test. Is this a test?

“It’s not a test,” his mother claims.

“So you’ve heard of the fifth House?” Resi presses.

“Just stories, but yes. Before you ask, I couldn’t tell you. It’s one of many things that children are not to know until their sixteenth birthdays. I didn’t think it would ever come up. No one did. I certainly didn’t think my son would be chosen.”

“Chosen?” he echoes. “Chosen. No one is meant to be chosen for a House. It’s a subconscious decision. That’s the entire point of the Kidjum. If I was chosen, then who chose me? Who is responsible? What else do they choose? Is our whole culture a lie?”

“It’s not a lie, brother,” Omir insists. “It’s just changing. You’re the one who’s changing it. Your decision was still subconscious, but it was nearly unique. You were born to a world different than our ancestors. You see things differently. The island is ready for House Kutelin, and you tapped into that. It’s still all you, but what sets you apart is that you have a deeper understanding of the way things need to be now.”

Resi has never felt any different than the other kids. Mediocre is a word that always swims around in his head. And he’s liked that—it doesn’t sound like an insult to him. He appreciates being part of the collective. He wants to stay that way. He wants to blend in. This is far too much pressure, and he hasn’t even started whatever he’s expected to start. He doesn’t even seem to have any sort of trainer or mentor. No guidance, no real answers. His family doesn’t know anything. They’re just guessing. He looks down at his little sister. She’s a quiet one, and if he can be honest with himself for a minute, his favorite. It’s hard to tell how much of this she’s understanding, because she never lets on. When you look into her eyes, you will see nothing but wisdom and patience. He kneels down. “You’re the only one I can trust now.”

She smiles and wraps her tiny arms around his neck. “I’ll come with you.”

“Oh, honey. You can’t go with him. It’s not time for you to choose—be chosen,” she corrects, “for a House yet. Seven years more.” Mother always talks down to Kala.

“It’s not about House Kutelin.” Resi takes Kala’s hand as he’s standing up straight. “They’re moving me closer to the Tadungeria. She can stay with me there.”

‘“You can’t take care of a child,” his mother argues. “Not only are you not qualified, but you won’t have the time. You have a duty to the whole island now.”

“Let’s not oversell it,” Resi counters. “I have a duty to the Four Houses.” Many refuse to acknowledge that there are two other nations on Yana, which have their own beliefs and practices. Today, they live in peace, and there is plenty of cross-pollination, but there has been much conflict in the past. The animosity can largely be attributed to a failure to recognize each other’s presence. Or really, it’s more about mentally attempting to absorb them into a single unified people. Resi knows that that’s not helpful. Pretending the divisions don’t exist doesn’t dismantle the divisions, it reinforces them.

“You also have a duty to this family,” Omir pushes back. “We need Kala here to complete our chores. You will have access to resources now. The city is well-established. You no longer need her, nor any of us.”

“Which is it, brother?” Resi questions. “Do I have a duty to our family, or am I no longer a part of this family?”

“It’s both,” his mother says. “This tradition is not changing. Even if you had chosen a different House for yourself, we would stay in contact.” Yeah, that’s how it’s supposed to work, but it doesn’t make that much sense when you break it down. If your subconscious wants to join a different House than the one you grew up in, your ties to your first House are probably not that strong to begin with. If Omir had switched to, say, House Naino, Resi would not see him very often. He doesn’t even live here anymore. He should probably be at his new home right now, doing his own early morning chores.”

“I’m starting something new,” Resi begins. “It’s scary, and I don’t want to be alone. I wasn’t condescending to Kala when I said that she was the only one I could trust. She is too young to have kept anything from me.” He holds his free hand up when his mom opens her mouth to argue. “Now, I’m not mad that you did. I understand why. But I can’t do this if I’m relying on my family. If you can’t help me do what I need to do, then I need to commit to my new House. But that doesn’t mean I’m leaving everything behind. I’m taking Kala, because I need her, and I don’t want to hear another word.”

Omir and their mother look over at Father. He’s a quiet one too, but not in Kala’s way. His silence shrouds an anger, and a darkness. He would never hurt them, Resi doesn’t think. He hasn’t before anyway. What’s frightening about it is how much he seems to be holding back. He doesn’t know why Father should be so mad, and why he has to work hard to tamp it down and remain calm. Resi thought he was doing something wrong when he was a kid, but grew up to decide that it doesn’t have anything to do with him specifically. There’s something bigger that bothers Father, which he can’t or won’t say. But as reserved as he is, Father always has an opinion, and they all respect it. “Son, it is not for you to know why your mind chose the House that it did. It is not for any of us to know, for ourselves, or for you. The fact is that starting a new House is no small venture. For my part, I do not care what you do with your power. You could tear down the Houses. You could wage war against the rest of Bungula. All is up to you, and we’ll love you for it, and stand by your side. But what you won’t do is deprive us of the labor and loyalty that we deserve. We had all four of our children for a purpose. You may take Kala with you, but in return, you will provide us with two new daughters as replacement, and you will do so with your first decree after tomorrow’s Kidjum.”

If anyone on this island can make Resi do something he doesn’t want to do, it’s Father. What he’s asking for—to Resi’s knowledge—has never been done before. You don’t ask for new family members to host. When someone chooses a House, they go where they’re needed, and no one is entitled to more than two children, adopted or otherwise. Yet everything is changing now. That’s what they’re fighting about today. He didn’t ask for this responsibility. “Very well, you will have your new daughters.”

Microstory 2644: Origin Stories

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The optic void scanners don’t exist within the simulation. They aren’t necessary as you supposedly can’t get into the dome without an ID, so there should be no concern. Mandica is safe from being caught as long as she stays here, but she does have to stay. There’s not much hope for anything changing in the future, unless she gets the sense that the administrative leaders won’t punish her for being unregistered. Truthfully, she doesn’t even know if they would be upset about it now or what the consequences might be. If she asks, then they’ll know, and there’s no going back from that. It must be some kind of problem, or Trilby and Yunil Tereth would not have worked so hard to help her avoid detection. She’s going to have to make a life here, as the most vulnerable person in the city. That’s frightening, and she has two options when it comes to that. She can stick with the heroes and player villains who can protect her from danger, or she can specifically avoid them so she doesn’t get wrapped up in their violent games. She doesn’t know which she is going to choose yet. Ravensgate refers to the city proper, but there are suburban neighborhoods beyond the city limits, still under the dome, and even a few rural towns on the furthest edges. They would be the place to go, but if Morgana has it out for her, nowhere is safe if she is alone, so she is leaning towards staying.

She’s been living in Blue Umbra and Wave Function’s lair for the last few weeks. Elysia and Jaidia didn’t have much room in their apartment, and Mandica’s heart skips a beat every time she sees Jaidia’s face. She’s been very sweet and understanding, and Mandica is comfortable believing that she had nothing to do with the attack. Still, this is what’s best for everyone. Wave Function, whose real name is Reagan Dorsey, has been particularly attentive. Blue Umbra has been going out on patrol alone a lot lately so he can stay with Mandica. Like half of the players here, he has a hero complex, so he feels obligated to protect the one person who genuinely needs it. He talks about time travel a lot. The reason Underbelly has the social credit to exist is because real life superheroes wouldn’t be any more powerful than the majority of the population. Their specific ability sets may not be common, but they’re obviously possible, which makes most of the world relatively safe. That’s why Mandica left Earth, because many wanted to protect her, and she didn’t feel she needed it until she entered this simulation. Reagan wants to go back in time to be a real superhero for a world that would value and appreciate it.

“I can walk, I can get my own ramen,” she argues.

“I just know you really like this stuff,” Reagan says.

“Yeah, I had never had it before. I mean, I’ve had noodles, but not like this.”

“There’s something very comforting about the mass produced packaged stuff. Of course, it’s not actually mass produced, but they use the exact same recipe as people did way back in the day. Here ya go.” He hands her the bowl.

“Thanks,” Mandica says to him. Before eating, she watches as he sits back down with a contented expression on his face. When she was a nomad, she learned to be forthright and efficient. She didn’t have time to develop relationships slowly. If she sparked with someone, they had to get on with it, or by the time they built any real trust, she would have to move on. “Do you have romantic feelings for me?”

He’s taken aback by this. “I...probably, but I’ve been trying not to pressure you into exploring anything,” he says nervously. “Why? Do you have feelings?”

“I don’t usually get attached to people,” Mandica begins to explain. “There’s not enough time for it. I never met another nomad who I wanted to connect with, and either way, it’s hard. You would think that any two nomads who click could travel together, but we all wanted to choose where we went, and we didn’t like having to get it approved by someone else. My parents were kind of outliers in this regard. I’m still not looking for a partner, but if we’re just talking about sex, I’m available, and currently have the time.”

“Hold on, there, Buckaroo Billy. That may be how Wave Function operates when he’s around the ladybots, but that’s not the real me. If I’m dealing with a sentient person, I need time to get to know them first.”

Mandica shrugs. “It sounds like we have incompatible social practices. I just thought I would ask in case you were only being nice—”

“Hold on, don’t finish that sentence,” Reagan interrupts. “I resent the suggestion that I can only be nice to people when I want something. I lived in a regular community before I came here, and my relationships—both platonic and romantic—were real and sincere. I don’t manipulate people.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to offend. That’s my poor social skills. I don’t get along with people, which is why I tend to gravitate towards superficial and brief interactions.”

He nods. “It’s okay. It’s just, the reason my character acts the way he does is very specifically because that’s not how I am at all. I’m only playing here. My other four personas had different personalities. I change it every time I come back in.”

Mandica nods too, then waits a beat. “Where did you live, before Castlebourne?”

Reagan’s face falls a little. He’s not offended again, but he’s not looking at her. “A little planet called Ex-926. We manufactured weapons. That’s why I don’t have much in the way of special powers. I know more about machines than the human body.”

“Ex-926,” she echoes. “I’ve never heard of that. Was that colony founded after I went relativistic in 2424? What star does it orbit?”

He sighs. “No. It’s been around for a while. We didn’t have a name for our sun.” He stays silent for a moment before finally looking over at her. “You’ve been honest with me about your origins, so I’ll return the favor. Please don’t tell anyone else, though. Not even Malika knows where I’m from. I talk about time travel so much, because for me, it’s not a theory. It’s very real, and more common than you think. A very evil man used it to go back thousands of years in the past. He brought human samples with him, and used them to found an empire 16,000 light years from here, which he has ruled this entire time. A small crew of heroes showed up several decades ago, and started rescuing refugees. I was one of them. Hrockas was kind enough to take us in. That’s why I’m here. That’s why I’m doing this. It’s not for fun. I’m training myself. It doesn’t bother me when I have to switch characters, because it gives me the chance to accumulate new skills. One day, I’m gonna go back to the Goldilocks Corridor. I’m gonna confront The Oaksent, kill every single back-up body he has, and free the rest of my people.”

Mandica stares at Reagan. Most of the players have come up with pretty elaborate backstories, and origins of their powers. But time travel? Oppressive empires thousands of light years beyond the range of space colonization. That is a little much, and he has always been better at turning off his superhero character when he comes home. Could he possibly be not lying? “You’re not serious, are you? That’s not real, is it?”

He stares back, then laughs...unconvincingly. “No, of course not. I’m joking.”

Microstory 2635: Taking Out the Trash

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It’s 2532 now. Mandica doesn’t know the exact date. She won’t connect to the local network until she’s off of the arkship. It has entered orbit around the planet of Castlebourne, and is beginning to transport cargo down to the surface using the primary space elevator. The rest of the trip went fine, and she didn’t run into any more problems. There was a weird lurch about a week ago, and she must have lost track of the relativity, because the whole thing took slightly longer than she was told, but it’s obviously all right now. The system didn’t tell her anything about another impact event, so she’s not going to worry about it. The only issue now is sneaking down without being detected. Every cargo container is being scanned and inspected. They have to do that to make sure that all the plants and animals are still alive. Unlike last time, when there was a certain level of trust that they didn’t load dead specimens, they’re gonna notice if Mandica is hiding amongst her timber wolf friends.

She didn’t join their pack, but they didn’t bother her while she was living amongst them either. She didn’t know if they were engineered to be more docile, evolved to be that way on their own, or if she just straight up didn’t understand the wolf-human relationship. They were pretty cool. She might even call some of them her friends. The bots never came by. Lab-grown raw meat occasionally appeared from strategically placed feeding bins. The wolves didn’t mind when she took a little bit for herself, and cooked it up. She thought she would be fine with the dayfruit, but she failed to grab a vital component for programming the flavor, so she was stuck with banana the whole time. The craziest part is that the fire detection system didn’t ever respond to her fires. She didn’t even think about that until her first one was already built and burning. She was so used to doing this out in the wild, it was second nature to her, so to speak.

Mandica has a plan now, and it’s time to execute it. She pats each one of her friends on the head to say goodbye. It’s not all of the wolves, just the ones she met when she first came here, but the other packs never paid any attention to her, and don’t feel left out. She felt safe in the timber wolf section, so she never ventured too far, but she did sneak out a time or two to plan her escape route. She knows exactly where to go. This ship really is apparently fully automated, but they could have commissioned a human crew, and they would have had everything they needed, including trashcans. More importantly, it’s equipped with trashbots. They’re meant to go around on their own, cleaning up people’s refuse, but this universe is full of redundancy. No high tier intelligence has to work unless they want the energy credits to travel or develop impactful projects, but if anyone ever does want a more conventional job, they can do just about anything they want. The automated systems meant to do it in their absence will be sidelined for them. The trashbot can be operated. Normally, the janitor would stay outside of the can, but the remote interface works just as well from the inside too.

Fortunately, since she appears to be the only living, breathing person here, the trashbot has never been used before, and is totally clean. It’s cramped, but she’ll only have to be in here for a few hours if she times it right. Animals need an elevator ride that goes slow so their eyeballs don’t pop out of their heads, but plants and equipment are a lot more forgiving. They can’t drop at maximum speed, but they don’t have to wait the full fifteen hours for a safer trip either. She’s watching the hallway on her remote, using the trashbot’s cameras. She passes a few other bots on her way to the gangway, and then also on the other side, on the elevator platform, but they completely ignore her. She was worried that they would be thrown off by an unscheduled trashbot wandering around on its own, but none of them was programmed to see it as a threat. She rolls onto the elevator just in time before the doors close.

The fall is rough because she is decidedly not a plant. But her suit is equipped with the right cocktail of drugs to make it easier. She’s on a sedative to keep her loose, a nociceptor inhibitor to chill her nerves, and a few other things she can’t remember right now because she can’t even form a complete sentence in her head. The sedative is precisely tailored to keep her awake enough to react to something bad if it comes up, but she still leans her head back and rests her eyes. It’s not the worst part. The drugs only kept her alive while she was falling. Now that she’s down on the surface, her body needs to be flushed of them so she can stay focused and stay moving. But there have been consequences from the trip that are just kicking in now. She’s dizzy, sluggish, and more than a little confused. She doesn’t really know where she is. This is a planet of domes. Everything is under a dome. There are literally tens of thousands of domes, and each one is unique. This one must be dedicated exclusively to the space elevator.

But she doesn’t know where to go. Shit, she doesn’t know anything. The grand opening was decades ago. People have been living here this whole time. They’ve been oriented, they’ve made some kind of government probably. What did she think, that she would land and immediately get a new life? What if they don’t like how she came to be here? Charter planets aren’t lawless, they’re just free to come up with their own laws, independent of the stellar neighborhood. This could be an oppressive dystopia by now, she really doesn’t know. She doesn’t know a goddamn thing. She’s so tired too. The suit gave her something to reverse the acute effects of the cocktail, but it doesn’t come with a stimulant. Does it have a stimulant? Where’s the stimulant? “Hey, Suit? Give me a stimmy. Stimmy. Is it called a stimmy? Are you called Suit? Answer me.”

Mandica wakes up in a bed, in her bra and panties. A man is sitting at a desk, his back to her. She looks around and spots the only plausible weapon within arms reach. It’s a pair of steampunk goggles. They’re...not going to be very helpful.

He turns. It’s Trilby. He hasn’t aged a day. “Hey. Welcome to Castlebourne.”

“You came with me?” she questions. “You were on the ship this whole time?”

He chuckles. “No. That was 112 years ago. I sent my consciousness here four years ago, looking to greet you. You have no idea what it took to figure out when the arkship would actually arrive. So I went back home, and back to work, and then took another vacation to return here a few months ago to make preparations.”

“Wait, it was only supposed to be 108 years. Why are we so late?”

“They moved,” he replies enigmatically.

“They moved...what?”

“The solar system. They moved the whole solar system. Your arkship was on the wrong vector, and had to be rerouted in the middle of the flight. I’m sure you felt it.”

She realizes that she’s narrowed her eyes at him. “I suppose I did. So it’s 2536?”

“It is,” he confirms. “Again, welcome to Castlebourne.”

She finally decides to relax. She trusts him. He got her here. “What preparations did you make?”

He smiles. “I can turn you invisible.”

Microstory 2610: There is the Opportunity for Help, But it Will Come at a Cost

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August 20, 2526. Domestic Affairs Administrator Clarita Moffett has been tasked with a responsibility that goes beyond her scope. She is in charge of the homeworld, not reaching out to neighboring worlds. But the Foreign Policy Administrator was arrested, and whether you would agree with that decision or not, it now falls on Clarita to figure this out. That’s okay, it’s not like she’s utterly unprepared for this. She’s been talking to people for a hundred and fifty years. All she’s doing is asking someone she’s never met to possibly send a fleet of ships 13,000 astronomical units away from their postings, completely unscheduled, and pretty much immediately. There’s always been this sort of rivalry between their colonies. It takes a negligible amount of time to get to Bungula from Earth, so some Domanians have wondered why not just stop here? Reportedly, since Rigil Kentaurus is more Sol-like, Bungulans have wondered why bother stopping, when they could just keep going a little bit to them. Plus. Bungula has been fully terraformed, and nobody can actually explain how.

Clarita opens her virtual eyes. This is a meeting space in a simulated environment. Maintaining persistent quantum coherence isn’t all that hard with today’s technology, especially given how close their two worlds are. Even so, it’s a bland room with two chairs, and a table between them. It’s also too hot in here. She removes her jacket, and looks around for a hook, only now realizing that she’s using her game avatar, which does not appear very professional. Too late. When she turns back around, she finds that she’s not alone. “Oh. Sorry, Captain, I didn’t see you there. Thank you for meeting me. I understand that you and your people have the data, but I thought it was time that we had a real conversation. First of all, I’m Clarita Moffett.”

“Reed Ellis, but I’m only an Executor,” he replies, shaking her hand anyway.

“Oh, forgive me, I—”

“The task was delegated to me, even though it is beyond my purview.”

“I’m in the same boat,” Clarita explains. She gestures towards the table, and they both sit down. “I know this is asking a lot, but we no longer have the infrastructure to reach orbit. Lower orbit objects—which were less populated, thank God—were decimated when our normally thin atmosphere expanded. Those in higher orbit are fine, but they can’t reach us. Our space elevator, of course, was in geostationary, but it was pulled down when the CME hit. We need help, and we believe that you can provide it.”

“We have a new elevator ourselves,” Reed says. “It hasn’t even begun non-testing operations yet. I believe that we could spare it, but I would be fighting an uphill battle. I know the people that I work with. It took a lot of us to procure some...special technology for it, and they will not want to give it up.”

“Even for a major rescue operation?”

“Even for that.”

“We’ll give it back.”

“For my part, I would let you keep it. The Tangent is a vanity project, and a waste of our resources. I’m just telling you that they know what you’re after. They sent me to talk to you, because I don’t have the power to say yes.”

“So, what are our options? Do you have any other elevators?”

“We have several others,” Reed confirms, “but they all have multiple tethers, serving multiple settlements. Reeling in one would create imbalance. Reeling in them all is doable if well-coordinated, but difficult, and extremely disruptive. The reason the new one is the only reasonable option is because we do not yet rely on it. That is the most frustrating part of this whole thing.”

“Well, how do you make elevators? Can you just send us the manufacturing platform or whatever? Forgive me, this is not my area of expertise, so I do not know what I’m talking about.”

“We could not build a new elevator in a reasonable amount of time, and they would not expend the resources for that either.”

“What are our options?” Clarita asks, fully aware that she’s repeating herself, though this time, it’s more open-ended, so she doesn’t lead him to another non-solution.

He’s nervous and hesitating. He looks around as if someone might be spying on them in here. If anyone could break into the simulation and do that, they would be able to do it without being detected, but his paranoia is not completely unfounded. “I will get you The Tangent, but you’re going to have to do something for me in return.”

“Anything.” Wait, no. “Um, I mean...almost anything,” she amends.

“It will not be pretty,” Reed goes on. “People will not be happy with my decision. It’s probably best that I not share with you the details of my plan, but once I enact it, I will be incredibly vulnerable.”

“What could we possibly do to help that?”

“I need backup. The space elevator platform is the first of its kind, but it is not designed for interstellar travel. There is a way, but it will be slow. It will take weeks to get to you and the most optimistic of estimates.”

“Okay...”

“Those who...don’t agree with us will have plenty of time to catch up, and put a stop to it. I will promise to defend ourselves during the initial mission, but I would ask you to meet us halfway. Come to us with a fleet; as many as you can. You say there are still ships in orbit. They are useless without a means to land, or more importantly, to pull grounders up to them. So send them towards Bungula, on the exact opposite vector that we’ll be on. Defend us. Help us save you.”

Now it is Clarita who is hesitating. “I don’t have that kind of power either. If I can’t get my people on board, I too will have to...” She is reluctant to use the word coup, or mutiny, or even commandeer. “I will find the support, though. You come to us, and we’ll come to you. But since I don’t know which ships I’ll be able to procure, they might end up being the slower ones. And if that’s the case...”

“You’ll still be in the same boat as me, defending yourselves in an internal conflict.” Reed nods. “I suppose we’ll just have to do our best.”

“I suppose so,” Clarita agrees.

“Your boss. Do they want this to happen?” he questions.

“It does, but it’s fighting a political war to maintain the power it needs to save the lives of our people before you could even possibly arrive. It will be in a very delicate position if we throw this new complication into the mix. We all will.”

“Then I advise you to exercise discretion. Keep the circle tight, and only tell who you must. Figure out who you can trust.”

“Same to you,” Clarita says.

“I better go iron out the plan. Stay in touch.”