Microstory 2688: Go A-Viking

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Kala gave him some good advice. He hadn’t realized how tired he was, so he followed her directions to a suite they had set up for him. It was super nice and luxurious, reminding him of the hotel where he stayed on Anchor Island. He took a quick shower, and then crawled into bed.

He dreams of being on a boat, but it’s unlike anything he’s ever seen before. It’s wooden, like the canoes and fishing boats that the Tamborans would use, but it’s big, more like the kind the Bungulans had. He’s dressed in alien layered clothing on the deck, looking out over the ocean. He can’t see a single hint of land anywhere. Nothing really happens, but he’s not alone. He’s experiencing the voyage with others, most of whom he does not recognize. Caprice is there, though he is much younger than she was before. Either this is a memory of her past, or a vision of the future, and she has chosen to inhabit a younger version of herself. The second one actually makes the most sense.

He wakes up feeling refreshed, but confused, and trying to make sense of what he saw. Being on the sea obviously wasn’t too weird, but the clothes they were wearing, and the tone of the scene—people’s facial expressions—even the color of the sky...none of it looked right to him. He couldn’t even tell if they were happy to be there.

He finds Caprice eating dinner alone in the common area when he exits his room. They’re evidently sharing the space. She tried to be here for him in time for the eruption, but got caught up with something on the other side of the island. She appears as young as she did in the dream, and he’s never seen her this way before, which strongly suggests that it really is something from his future. The mountain is no longer a problem, so his mind has jumped to the next one. “What do you think?” he asks her. “Does that sound like something you would do, or even have done?”

“I think, since I’ve known you, I’ve learned to trust what you see, and what you say. If you think we’ll be on a big boat together, sailing on rough waters, I believe you. I have never been on a boat like that before, but I have heard of it. I have to say, I hope it doesn’t mean that we’ll be traveling through time.”

“Why would that even be a possibility?” Resi asks, puzzled.

“What you’re describing is a viking boat, and viking clothing. And the sky you saw? It sounds more like the one on Earth. The sky there isn’t quite as icy blue as it is on Bungula? I’ve seen pictures. Here, I can pull it up for you.” She reaches for her device.

“I believe you. I can’t imagine we would ever go to Earth, let alone the past.”

Caprice tilts her head in thought. “There’s another option.”

“What would that be?”

“Well, have you heard of Castlebourne? It’s tens of light years away.”

“Yeah, that’s the one where it’s just a bunch of amusement parks, right?”

“It’s a lot more than that. I think I might be able to pull up the prospectus from this. They give out all that information because they want visitors.” She taps on her device a little. “Yeah, I searched for vikings, and here it is; the Nordome Network. Live like a Northman in the first millennium. Sail the seas, take the lands, and try to keep them! In this highly immersive simulation, no electricity is allowed. It is not something you visit, but something you live. Are you ready to go a-viking? Tap here to begin your journey, and see what you’re made of. Hmm. It actually sounds like fun.”

It sounds like a nightmare.

Microstory 2685: We Have More Time Than We Thought

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Resi flies through the tunnel in his mind, searching for the vision that he’s meant to see. He spends more time in here than usual. So much passes him by, but it’s too quick for him to have any time to tell what other events he’s missing. He just keeps going and going and going until he sees it. Central Mountain. Framed in a circle like a painting on the wall. It’s terrifying. Smoke is billowing up into the air. Lava is rolling down the sides. People are dying. He can’t see that much detail yet, but he’s getting the feeling. It’s at the end of the line. This is the last thing that will ever happen to anyone on Yana. The painting grows larger as he draws near, and then he passes through the portal. Now he’s flying through the air. Unlike his other vision of this tragic fate, he’s not composed of the elements. He’s just a regular guy. A regular guy who can fly.

The still image begins to move in slow-motion, making it even more horrifying than it already was. Now he really can see the people dying on the ground as the ash overwhelms them. Bungulan aircraft are frantically flying in, trying to save as many as they can, but they won’t get anywhere near everyone. Catastrophe has struck, and the question is, is this what happens if Resi doesn’t report the truth to the island, or is it inevitable? Will people simply not believe him, or will he not even get the message out in time? He remembers Kartica in the caldera with him. She has that satellite phone. He has to make that call, or tell her so she can make it. That is, if he can trust her.

Resi doesn’t have enough information, but he can feel himself waking up. His body is stirring where it lies on the ground. He’s melting into the rock. He really will die, so he has to get this done before he takes that last breath. What he really needs is the date. He needs specific information when he makes that call. There’s a boat on the coast, taking evacuees in. Surely there’s a date there somewhere. He dives down towards the surface, and lands on the deck. No one can see him, because he’s not really here. They’re frantically scattered about, some using devices, but no one keeps still long enough for him to see a date. Don’t they know that he needs this? Don’t they know he can stop it?

He has to get to the bridge. It will have computers there. He dashes up and passes right through the wall like a ghost. As the vision is beginning to collapse, he gets only one decent look in the upper right corner of the nearest screen, but it doesn’t make much sense. The day and month are both fine. It’s the year that doesn’t make the least bit of sense. The number is weird and wrong; it can’t be right. He has to look around for something else. Maybe there was an EMP, and it screwed up all of the electronics?

He wakes with a start, not having had the chance to find any more clues to understand what it means. Still, it’s all he has to go on. He feels like he’s moments from death. “Pho—phone,” he ekes out, reaching his hand up aimlessly. He turns his head to find Kartica lying on her stomach next to him, probably as close to death as he is.

She fights to open her eyes. She reaches behind her back and pulls the phone off of the clip. She lifts it into the air, and starts swinging it around, delirious and confused, maybe seeing double vision. Their hands dance around each other for several seconds before they finally make contact.

Resi selects Caprice’s contact card, and tells the system to call her in whatever way will work. If point-to-point communication is best, do that. She answers, demanding to know where he and Kartica are, but there’s no time. “August 7, 0045.” She’s flummoxed. “That’s the date of the eruption. August 7, 0045.” He dies.

Microstory 2684: Whoops

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Resi is walking across the jagged rock at the bottom of the caldera now, dodging these scary vents in the ground. He did not pay attention in school when they discussed this stuff. Again, it wasn’t important for his future, and the teachers didn’t think so either, so they didn’t get mad when students didn’t do great on science assignments. It is freezing cold, though, except for those gases. They make him cough, and gave him a huge headache. The center. He has to reach the absolute center. It’s poetic, right? That makes the most sense. So he just keeps moving forward. He kind of has to. Whenever he tries to stop, the rubber soles of his shoes begin to melt. It doesn’t feel too hot here, except when he touches the ground with his hand. God, it’s so weird. This place is weird.

Being this close, it certainly feels like the thing could explode at any moment. The air is still, but there’s a vibration all around. To be fair, he could be imagining it. If all these gases are toxic, it would explain the headaches, and the little bit of giggling that he thinks he’s doing. He can’t remember. He just keeps walking, heading for that big dream vision in the sky. Maybe he should walk faster, lest he die before he gets there.

“Are you freaking kidding me?” a voice asks from behind him.

“The time gods?” Resi asks, looking up. “Is that you?”

“It’s Kartica, you idiot!” she scolds, catching up to him. She is hard to hear with that banana over her face. Banana? Bandana. It’s either really smart, or totally useless.

“What’s the big deal? What are you doing here?”

“What are you doing here?” she fires back at him. “You’re going to get yourself killed. You don’t have any protection whatsoever.”

“Yeah, I do. I have a coat on.” He tries to show her. “Oh. Well, it was on a minute ago.” Oh, that’s right. It was too green, so he took it off. “And anyway, I’m still on the hunt for that vision. This is the one place we’ve not yet tried.”

“How did you expect to get back if it kills you first?” Kartica presses.

“I was going to call you guys and tell you what I saw. I had it all planned out. I was going to detail my vision to you, and then at the very last second, with my dying breath, I would start my final sentence, and then not be able to finish it.”

“You planned on failing?”

“It was gonna bring you three together, and together, you would figure out what the last few words were gonna be, and save the day at the very last second.”

“Quite a few very last seconds you have there, Res. And, um, tell me. How were you going to call us without a phone?” She holds up Caprice’s satellite phone.

He pats his chest and hips. “Oh. Whoops.”

“Whoops?” she echoes. “Just the fate of our island on the line, and whoops? Resi, you’re already sick on top of the toxic fumes this place has to offer. And that’s on top of you just not being that bright of a person in the first place. You are the worst person to do this job, you’re just all we got. So please, lean on your friends.”

“Are you my friend?” Resi asks. “Because I seem to recall you infiltrating my House, trying to make us look bad, and then trying to frame me for your murder.”

“That was the old me,” she insists.

“Wait, shut up!”

“What?”

“Shut up, shut up!” he urges. “I’m getting a vision.” He falls to the ground.

Microstory 2683: Desperate Remedies

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It’s been seven days. The hike was grueling, especially for Resi, who is not doing very well. He’s run out of medicine. It was supposed to last him a few weeks, but he took a little more than the recommended dose each time, and now he can’t even synthesize more. But this is it. This is his moment. If we can predict exactly when this volcano erupts, it will be worth it. He can die if he has to. Chaya, Caprice, and even Kartica will walk back down, warn the Bungulan scientist when it’s going to happen, and then they can craft their magical technology into a solution. The problem is, so far, he’s not seen anything. They stopped a few more times than they absolutely had to so he could take a nap. He needed the rest and recovery period, but he was also always hoping to trigger a new vision. Nothing came to him. Not even a hint. Every once in a while, Chaya would do something totally unexpected, like throw a fruit at him. One time, she tore off all of her clothes. Or rather, she was going to. He stopped her. Because he saw that she was planning on it. Which was great. Not only could he save her the trouble, but it also proves that changing the future is possible. They have to stop that volcano.

They’re on the rim of the caldera now, in the process of walking around the entire circumference. They’re moving even slower now; again, because Resi can’t keep pace, and because he’s trying to see something meaningful. Nothing is doing anything. He’s starting to think he made the whole thing up. Yes, he has visions of the future, but maybe this one is just a dream. Maybe that’s just what the Kidjum elixir does to his brain. Both things can be true at the same time without it being this complex web of connections. “Well, ladies, I don’t think this is doing us any good. I hope you at least see it as a good way to make your daily steps, because nothing else has come of it.”

They’re all breathing heavily, and nodding. They don’t want to agree with that assessment, but there’s no reasonable alternative. It hasn’t helped anything. Kartica drops her pack, and starts looking for something in it. “There’s one more thing we can try.” She takes her hand back out, coming back with a black box. She opens it, and as she does, dry ice vapor seeps out of the gap. Inside is one vial of Kidjum elixir.

“You told me not to take that stuff again,” Resi reminds her. “You said it was too dangerous.” He can’t admit that she was right to bring it. It only makes sense.

“It is,” she confirms. “But you look desperate, and honestly, so am I. You also look like you might not survive the night, so if you’re willing to take the risk, I am too.”

“Don’t do this,” Caprice urges. “She’s wrong. You will survive the night, and when we wake up in the morning, we’ll take the fast trail back down. If we think you won’t be able to handle it, we can call for a helicopter ride.”

“How would we do that?” Chaya questions.

“With this satellite phone.” She takes it out of her pack. The thing is giant, probably to accommodate a huge power source, so it never requires charging, and to make it harder to break. “I have a direct line to the Bungulans. I had to, it isn’t safe.”

Caprice and Kartica start arguing with each other, but Resi interrupts them. “I’ll decide.” He takes the sat phone, and then the box. “Let’s all have some dinner, then go to bed. “Okay?” He doesn’t get a response. “Okay?” He adds, “okay,” when they nod.

That night, he sneaks out of the tent he’s been sharing with Chaya, puts his shoes back on, and then begins the descent into the caldera. That’s where his visions are waiting for him. He knows it.

Microstory 2682: Seeing The Whole Thing

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Resi can see the future, there is no longer any doubt in his heart about that. The problem is that, no matter how hard he tries, he has been unable to return to the vision he twice had of the eruption of Central Mountain. Brooke has her special techy spaceship, which she used to study the volcano, which said that nothing about it suggests it’s going to become active anytime soon. That is more worrisome than anything, because if Brooke is right, and Resi is also right, then something insane and unpredictable is going to happen that changes the equation. The trick is determining what that might be, and Resi thinks he may know why the answer isn’t coming to him. As of now, all of his predictions are sourced from past and present data. They’re still supernatural, for lack of a better term, but he’s not just randomly pulling information that doesn’t exist yet. He has to anchor it to something that is real. He doesn’t have to be physically touching an object to know what’s going to become of it, but it sure helps.

The fact is, Resi has nothing been very close to the mountain before. It just hasn’t been a meaningful aspect of his life. The higher you go, the less arable the land is. He’s not one for backpacking. Some class projects have involved hiking it, or even climbing all the way to the summit, but he never ended up doing that. That seems to be something that has to happen now. Brooke offered him a ride to the top, but that might not be enough. What if the problem happens lower down, and just causes the eruption up top? What if there are clues along the way? She pointed out that there is too much acreage to cover, and he agreed, but he has to start somewhere, and it can’t be at the end. That’s what’s blocking his understanding of this terrible future. He keeps trying to skip to the end. Of course, that’s what it sounds like fortune-telling is, but again, he doesn’t think he can just tap a future date, and jump to it. He thinks he has to fast-forward. He doesn’t have to sit through it all in real time, but he does have to see it all. So he’s going on a trek. He’s finally going to see what all the fuss is about.

Brooke is gone now. She has other things to do with her life outside of Yana, and outside of Bungula. She charges him to keep quiet about what he learned about her, which will not be hard, because she hardly told him anything. He’s not going to be alone, though. Caprice and Chaya are both coming. They don’t think that they’re going to have any apocalyptic visions, too, but they want to help, and it’s safer for him to not be alone. If something bad happens, someone may need to call for rescue. They’re only a few kilometers into the journey. They’ve not even reached the switchbacks yet when Chaya informs them that someone has been following them the whole time.

“Okay!” Resi says quite loudly. “Spread out! Shoot anyone but each other!”

“No! Don’t do that!” Kartica comes out with her arms up.

“I was never going to. Don’t you know me yet?” Resi questions.

“I dunno, you may have changed, man,” Kartica points out.

“Why are you here?” Resi presses. “You weren’t invited.

“I know, but you need me. You’re going the wrong way.”

Caprice looks up. “I think we can see where the mountain is.”

“Yes, you’re going towards the mountain, and you’ll even be on a trail, but it won’t be the right trail,” Kartica insists. “The mountain...is basically a cone. If you’re trying to see the whole thing, the switchbacks will only keep you to one side of it.”

“What makes you think we’re trying to see the whole thing?” Resi asks her.

“Please.” Kartica is offended. “I’ve not taken my eye off of you since we met. I can show you where to go. It will give you a clearer picture. I want this more than anyone. I want it more than you. You were hesitant before, when I begged you to tell me what was going to happen. Don’t leave me out of it. Please.”

Resi stands there thinking about it. He takes a swig of his special medicine. It still isn’t curing him, but it’s treating his symptoms. It’s keeping him vertical. Unfortunately, he believes he may be experiencing diminishing returns, and it will stop doing anything at all, probably sooner than later. “Fine, you can help. But try not to commit suicide on the way, okay?”

“I couldn’t if I wanted to,” Kartica claimed. “They locked me out of the respawn system. If I die, that’s it for me.”

Foreshadowing.

Microstory 2681: Final Exam

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Brooke will not tell Resi Brooks anything about the rescue that she and her friends pulled off centuries ago. She doesn’t even admit that she’s a time traveler. She says that she can help Resi get a handle on his visions, and that is what she does. They work together for weeks. She doesn’t give him a cure for what ails him, but she provides him with treatments that are better than what Yana has to offer on its own. It’s actually better that he not be too active in the world while he’s working on his mental ability. There are too many distractions, and he has to focus. She first teaches him how to meditate. That’s really all the Kidjum elixir does. It drops a person into a relaxed, unconscious state so it can access deeper truths about the dreamer’s psyche. The drug is an easy shortcut, and its side effects might actually be detrimental to the process.

Brooke asks Resi to start with small things. He’s meant to predict things that will probably happen anyway, like the outside temperature that the forecast already predicted, and always predicts with accuracy. This will reinforce his knowledge of the world, and reward his brain for saying something correct. Over time, she asks for more and more uncertain predictions, like the daily harvest yield in the south fields, or the results of an ancient singing competition show which Resi had never seen before. He gets them right too, but it’s still not too surprising, because yields are fairly steady, and we all knew Miki was gonna win season eleven. So far, though, Brooke has only asked him questions about specific things. She has driven him towards a prediction. The hardest part will be when she simply tells him to come up with something new.

He doesn’t think he’s ready for that yet. He’s still not entirely sure that he really has this ability. But she convinces him to try because if the first time he proves it is when the Central Mountain volcano explodes, then they’re all going to have a bad time. He has to start with something that’s still small, but impossible for him to have known just by recognizing past patterns, or relying on other systems. It has to be so isolated and bizarre that it can’t be true until it is. She sits him down, and has him close his eyes. She tells him to focus on the future, and forget everything he knows about everything else. The past does not exist, and it never will. The only thing that matters is what is to come. He’s also supposed to breathe. In, out. In, out. Her voice fades away as she continues the usual instructions. He keeps following them, trying to see something which does not exist, but is inevitable. He sees a tunnel, but it’s not real. It’s only a conduit to a higher plane of reality. It’s his way to seeing the future. He propels himself forwards, becoming one with the tunnel, and preparing himself for the other side, when an image he has never seen before finally comes to light.

He reaches the end. It’s small, and it looks like it’s moving fast, but to him, it’s in slow motion. It’s kind of grayish, or maybe even gold? It’s hard to tell with the light from the visionscape itself. He tries to look at it from a different angle, but a second image slips into view behind it. This one is also metal, but of a more complex design. It’s still covered in shadow, and hard to make out. So he moves closer. Closer, closer, closer. It’s...it’s a gun. Resi wakes up from the vision, and dives to the side just as he hears the shot. He feels the rush of wind as the bullet passes him within centimeters at most. “What the hell was that?” he asks, trying to put his heart back in his chest.

Brooke puts the gun into her jacket. “That was the final exam. In case you didn’t notice, you passed.”

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 2679: Plague Doctor

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Resi is ill. He was hot and sweaty during his speech, and he doesn’t even remember the end of it. He’s just waking up now in his childhood home. The last time he was here was three years ago, but it feels like he’s never really been here at all. It feels like that was a movie, and now he’s fallen into the screen. He’s delirious. Kala walks into the room holding a wet towel. She dabs his forehead with it, and then drapes it across his face. He’s breathing heavily and erratically. “How did I get here?”

“Father brought you,” Kala explains. “He wants to speak with you, but he doesn’t know if you’ll want to see him.”

“Bring him in.”

“It can wait,” Kala offers.

“I’m okay. Bring him in. Thanks, Kal.”

Father comes in after she leaves. He sits on the edge of Resi’s bed, and is silent for a moment. He sighs. “I think it’s time I tell you the truth. It’s gone too far.”

“What has gone too far?” Resi squirms, trying to find a more comfortable position, but his muscles are achy.

“You are not actually my son,” Father begins. Just with those few words, apparently that’s no longer the right thing to call him any more, though. “You are not even Tamboran. When we first discovered that we were not in the garden of heaven, a faction of us asked for advanced technology. The rest stayed as they were.”

“Kartica already told me this. She didn’t mention you, though. Is everyone an immortal?” Resi asks.

“No, but I’m sure she didn’t tell you everything. She couldn’t have. She probably forgot. There’s a reason you can’t figure what the Assembly’s motivations are. A little over 200 years ago, a plague swept the island. All three nations were affected, but none worse than Tambora. To be fair, we had a greater population, and of course, still do. That’s because a Bungulan cloned themself a body that looked more like us, and infiltrated Yana. He claimed to have discovered a plant that could cure the plague, and they were right. Well, I mean, they just used science, but it did cure us. Most islanders are immune now, but there was a problem. The immortal faction—our fearful leaders—suffered permanent brain damage, and it is that damage that persists, even when they jump to new bodies. The reality is that every member of the Assembly is a little bit crazy. I was not one of them in the beginning, but a few friends and I discovered their technology, and decided to become like them. We have been trying to get ourselves elected to offices ever since, and son, we have always failed. They know how to run a campaign. They’ve been doing it for a long time, and they grease the right palms.”

“What does any of this have to do with me?” Resi questions. He’s still in so much pain. He can’t even process his father’s words. He’s just listening to them.

“When the Kokore called you to the First Tongue of Aether, she said that there was one other in the past, right?”

“Yeah.”

“That was you. You are that Bungulan, Res. You saved our island, and in doing so, doomed yourself. Since you were just as much of a clone as the members of the Assembly, your brain continues to suffer its negative effects. We put you on ice, so you could be studied. Don’t fret, you agreed. You see, you went against the Bungulan authority to help us, so you could never return to your normal life. So we couldn’t ask them to research the problem on our behalf. Non-interference, and all that.”

“But you think you figured it out, so you moved me to this body, and raised me as your child,” Resi guesses.

“Pretty much. The Assembly, I suppose, realized what we did, and concocted this bizarre plan to turn you into a hero so you could be knocked down to a villain. Don’t try to understand their reasoning, they have none. Some Assembly members wanted you to create the Fifth House so you would take all of the recruits and leave. They think the island can’t provide for our blooming population, and they may be right about that. But there was infighting. Some started to see you as a genuine threat, and came up with demands that you literally couldn’t fulfill, because they were paradoxical. Now-Speaker Keller put a stop to it. He’s one of us, not of them. We finally got him elected when we realized that the only way to beat them was to simply pretend to be one of the originals. He’s just been lying, and it’s working, because as I said, they’re nuts.”

“But Keller is the one building the army.”

Father shakes his head. “Keller isn’t in charge of the military. He only has so much power as Speaker. He has to pick his battles, but he doesn’t want war.”

“So I’m a Bungulan, trapped in a Tamboran’s body, suffering from a plague, which I contracted 200 years ago. How do my visions fit in?”

“You’re visions?” Father asks. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“My Kidjums. Kartica said that I was actually seeing the future.”

“I wouldn’t know anything about that,” Father clarifies. “You never told me, and they certainly wouldn’t have either.”

“So it could still be true.” Resi finally forces himself to sit up. “If you were born centuries ago, then you know that the myths are true, and our ancestors were saved from Earth using time travel, which means that kind of thing is real, and I could really be seeing the future.”

“I...can’t argue against that, but I’ve seen no proof of that. I wasn’t born until after our people came here. Unlike Kartica, I never saw Earth.”

“Bungulans have technology that we don’t understand,” Resi reasons. “Predicting the future might be as easy for them as forecasting the weather. If Central Mountain is going to erupt, we wouldn’t have the technology to detect that, but they could, and I could somehow be channeling that knowledge.”

“Central Mountain? If anyone else were to tell me that it was about to erupt, I wouldn’t believe them, but you’ve been nothing but kind to our people since you showed up, so I will. The problem is, you’re sick. Our scientists thought they fixed you by erasing your memory of your past, but the plague has obviously caught up to you anyway. That’s why I’m fessing up now.”

Resi sits all the way up now, and swings his legs over to hang off the edge. “Then we need to find whatever plant,” he begins with airquotes, “I used to stop it in the first place.”

“We don’t have any,” Father reveals. “I would have already given it to you. The Assembly might have kept it, but Keller hasn’t located their secrets.”

Resi nods. “Then we need to go in ourselves. Let’s stop trying to play the sneaky game. Let’s just take the fight to them.”

Microstory 2676: They Pull Me Back In

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Resi is done. After recovering from his second Kidjum, he ignores Kartica’s pleas for him to stick around and help him figure out what she claims to be his visions of the future. He exits the Tadungeria, and the Tamboran nation as a whole. He finds himself a plot of land on the border of Pekat and Sanggar. It’s not particularly comfortable, but it grants him access to the beach for fishing, and the plants for gathering. He collects his own rainwater, and doesn’t bother anyone. Most importantly, no one bothers him. His former Fold and House have abandoned him, either out of respect for his wishes, or deciding that if he’s weak enough to wish for it, he must not be worth following.

They have not been punished for their pasts. The exile has been rescinded entirely, even for Resi himself, though he’s technically fulfilling the requirement, just in his own way. He belongs to no nation now, but he has nothing, so no one is trying to follow in his footsteps. Every morning, Resi wakes up and looks towards Central Mountain. It still has not erupted, and is giving no indication that it might anytime soon. Kartica came by several times in the beginning to convince him to induce more visions, but he refused, and she didn’t try to force him again. That doesn’t mean he’s leading a quiet, simple life. He has tried to push the apocalyptic Kidjum visions out of his head, but they won’t stop coming. He went to the doctor, who confirmed that the elixir was fully out of his system, so why does he keep returning to that hellscape? What does it mean? He has decided that’s just his brain’s way of being an asshole. He still doesn’t believe that he’s genuinely predicting the future, because that would be nuts.

For the most part, he stays out of politics and society. He stays out of everyone’s lives, full stop. Someone will occasionally come by to check on him, though. His brother came by once, as did his older sister a few times. A few random people here and there. Zenith showed up in her fancy motorboat, but couldn’t do much since she was mostly bound to non-interference. Everyone else brings him food. It’s not enough to keep him alive on its own, but it’s very magnanimous of them, and he’s always gracious and kind. They call him a hermit, but there’s no reason to be grumpy or dismissive with others.

Former Kutelins have been reintegrated into society. They were allowed to undergo makeup Kidjums, and get placed in one of the regular Four Houses. Society has basically returned to normal, though there has been a significant uptick in military recruitment. It doesn’t appear to be forced conscriptions, but from his position, he can’t know what’s going on beyond closed doors. It’s been three years now, and the island should be celebrating the tricentennial, but a new announcement has overshadowed the levity. Chaya, who he hasn’t seen this entire time, has just shown up to relay that everything has changed. They have declared a massive change to their practices. Ever since the Houses were formed, one thing has been true: when you turn sixteen, you go through Kidjum, and get sorted. With so many new adults reportedly choosing military service, however, there are not enough people performing the other jobs. The Assembly has decided to seriously drop the age by four years. Starting soon, twelve-year-olds will be expected to undergo the ceremony, and start working full-time, completely obliterating the last four years of their education.

“Kala,” Resi says breathlessly. She will be turning twelve soon. He has tried to stay out of island business, but he can’t turn a blind eye anymore. Heads will roll, and the war they warned him about might finally come to pass.

The Advancement of Mateo Matic: August 17, 2530

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Séarlas and Franka were not Mateo and Leona’s children, but Mateo and Leona were their once-parents, and no one knew how to feel about that. A version of the two of them had twins in another timeline, but neither of them had memories of that. This Leona lost her babies in a terrible tragedy on an interplanetary ship that was breaking apart. They didn’t talk about it anymore, and she never said it out loud, but those were her kids, and the only way for her to get through the sadness was to believe that. The living Séarlas and Franka were some of the first people they saw when they started traveling through time, and had anticipated their births for years, only to have that dream pulled away from them. Them being here right now wasn’t some way of getting it back. It was just confusing and uncomfortable. That was why Mateo never pushed for a relationship with Aura or Mario. Neither of them raised him, nor even conceived him. To them, it had never happened, and trying to force a connection was worse than pretending there was nothing there at all, and just trying to be decent friends. The question was, what did these two think? Did they see it the same way?

“We don’t expect hugs from you,” Franka went on after letting the shock of the development run its course for a few moments.

“Hold on.” Ramses materialized some kind of little tool in his hand. “Do you mind?” he asked vaguely, holding it between him and the twins.

“Do what you must,” Franka agreed, pulling up her sleeve, and nodding for her brother to do the same.

Ramses used the tool to extract small samples from them. “I already have your DNA on file,” he said to Mateo and Leona while they waited for about fifteen seconds. It beeped. “I’m seeing a 92% familial match. That would be low confidence for today’s technology, but substrate variance would account for the difference. You two still have the core DNA that you were born with, but I spliced in some extra code.”

“So, they are our genetic children,” Mateo asked to confirm.

“Their bodies are,” Ramses clarified. “I have no idea about their minds. I never did figure out how to build a simpatico detector, not that that’s exactly what we’re after.”

“I see that our tactics have bred distrust between us,” Franka acknowledged.

“Ya think?” Olimpia asked. If these two could be categorized as Mateo and Leona’s kids, she would be their stepmother.

“Why do you think we took so long to introduce ourselves to you?” Pacey—no, Séarlas prompted.

“I’m guessing that you tried to do it earlier in other timelines, but it always went poorly,” Leona figured.

Franka smirked. “Yeah, you definitely get your intelligence from her.”

Mateo looked at Franka. “And you? You got my stupidity?”

Séarlas shook his head disapprovingly. “Your instincts. She got your instincts and intuition. You may not be as educated, and you may not have much interest in improving that, but you are the one who steers the team; not as a leader, but as a compass. Not only can you see a threat a mile away, but you can gauge how much of a threat it will be, and can adjust accordingly. You treated me and Boyd differently than you did Zeferino and Erlendr. You saw goodness in Arcadia when no one else did. Mateo, after Horace Reaver captured you and Leona, and kept you separate, he finally explained why he hated you so much. Do you remember how you reacted?”

“That was so long ago,” Mateo replied.

“You’re being modest,” Séarlas judged, “of course you remember. He told you that an alternate version of you in another timeline made a mistake, which got his wife killed. You have no recollection of that, because you didn’t do it. Yet after his story was over, you apologized. Do you know how few people would respond like that? So no, father, she didn’t get your stupidity. She got your heart.”

“Yes, so much love,” Olimpia jumped in again. “This is a living Rockwell painting.”

“We know things that you don’t,” Franka volleyed. “We’ve seen things.”

“I’ve seen a lot too,” Olimpia defended.

“I mean, our abilities allow us to try out timelines, and choose the best one,” Franka began. “This is not regular time travel where we have to go back to the point of divergence and try again. Time is a crossroads, and we have binoculars.”

“You’re seers?” Angela questioned. Seers were fairly common in their world, but none of them had actually met one in person, or even heard a name. People will just show up unexpectedly and it will be because a seer told them to be there.

Séarlas shook his head again. “Seers typically see one possible future, and if they don’t like it, they find a better one. We can see them all at once, but only from wherever we are when we’re looking. It’s not perfect, before you ask why we’re not all living in a utopia. The metaphorical binoculars only show us so much before things get fuzzy. We can walk down a given road to see further in the future, but once we do, we can’t walk backwards and try a different road. We have to pick the best choice from our perspective, and hope things don’t get worse. Then we end up at a new crossroads, and it starts all over.”

They were all just staring at him. “It’s not a perfect metaphor either,” Franka contended. “None of them really is. Time is a road, time is a river. Time is just all the things that happen.”

“This is a great lesson on temporal mechanics,” Leona said sarcastically, “but I have more questions. When were you gonna introduce yourselves to us, and honestly so, instead of with aliases. Franka, why didn’t you show up pretending to be someone else?”

“It’s like my brother said,” Franka replied, “I’m not intelligent, I’m intuitive. In this day and age, when you meet someone new, you expect them to be smart, and have something to give you. He gave you the slingdrive. I have nothing like that to offer. My job was to tell him what to do, and truthfully, to cultivate our assets.”

“Octavia and Miracle,” Mateo said, nodding. “Anyone else? You got Bhulan in your back pocket? What about my third grade teacher? She on your payroll too?”

“Well...The Overseers,” Séarlas admitted. “That’s thanks to you. We didn’t know where either of them was before.”

“Yeah, we guessed that they were with you,” Marie said, “and the Arborist.”

“It’s not like how Arcadia did it, though,” Franka insisted. “We don’t force or trick people. We don’t...tell them everything either, but they make their own choices.”

“My little intelligence officers,” Leona snarked.

Séarlas tensed up, so Franka placed a hand on his shoulder, and spoke before he could say something that he regretted. “We knew there would be hostility. This is the tough part, and it was always going to be like that because of one mistake we made long ago. I told you about the crossroads. At a real crossroads, you could walk back, and take a different path, but for us, we can’t. We had one single good opportunity to show ourselves to you. It was after our alternate versions died, and some of the initial sting from that had worn off, but before you went off to...be king of Dardius.”

“I wasn’t king.”

Franka went on without responding to that, because it wasn’t the point. “We didn’t know that the babies were going to die. Space is more difficult to see into. It’s hard to explain, but it’s easier with an atmosphere. The point is, it was a tight window, and we missed it. We wanted to know when you were going to come back to the stellar neighborhood from Dardius, and unfortunately, by the time we saw that happen, we had passed our turn. From there, too much was going on, and showing up would have only made things worse. Gatewood, Varkas Reflex, Mateo dies, the rest of the team dies, you disappear into the past, you jump to the Fifth Division, and the Third Rail. I don’t know if you can believe us, but we kept looking for opportunities, and each one was worse than the last. Eventually, we decided that the only way we could have a relationship with our parents was to...”

“Be antagonists,” Leona finished for her.

“We don’t like that word,” Franka said, “but we appreciate your perspective on that. We prefer to see ourselves as tough-love mentors.”

“You’ve been trying to get us to murder someone!” Leona shouted.

“The Oaksent’s future is profoundly clear to us,” Séarlas maintained. “With him, we don’t have binoculars, we have a planet-sized telescope. He has..to die. That’s the only solution. If you’re worried about him becoming a martyr, don’t. His loyalists see him as a god-king. His death alone will shift allegiances for millions. Gods can’t die.”

“Neither can Bronach,” Ramses reasoned, “so what does that make him?”

“The man behind the curtain,” Franka suggested.

“Learning who you are has not changed our position one iota,” Mateo tried to tell his once-children. “If you find a team who is willing and able to do it, we won’t get in your way, but we won’t help either.”

“What if it’s Team Kadiar?” Franka put forth.

It was not a good idea to say that. The twins had hardly looked at Romana since she showed up. It was between them and the parents. She had to respond to this, though. “It won’t be. I don’t care what my mom and dad say, we will interfere if you approach my sisters.” She all but growled.

“Okay, okay,” Marie stepped in. She hadn’t talked much either, but she and her sister were the diplomats. “Romana is right. Team Kadiar is also off limits. They literally crew a diplomacy ship. I won’t have you corrupting them, or even trying to. This has been a tough day. One thing I’ve learned as a counselor is that the breaks are just as important as the talks. We would like a place to retire, and will reconvene in a year. I understand that the anticipation might be difficult for you, but we will only experience less than a day. That time apart will make things easier. I promise you. We have learned a lot—maybe too much already. The human brain, even one designed by Mister Abdulrashid here, needs time to consolidate new information. Does this sound okay to everyone?”

They all agreed to take a break. Mateo had to reframe his thoughts on all this. He hadn’t raised any of his other kids, and in fact, Kivi was born in an entirely different reality, so he didn’t really even conceive her. He still saw her as his child, though admittedly, in a different way than he saw Romana, or even Dubravka. Franka and Séarlas weren’t nothing to him. He didn’t know what they were, but he already knew that they weren’t going to be strangers who he didn’t care about. A good night’s sleep would hopefully help with this. Thank God Marie was here.

There was an Alaskan king bed for Mateo, Leona, and Olimpia to share. The others each had their own rooms with regular king beds. When they woke up the next day, the twins had reportedly skipped over the interim year as well. It could have been a lie to endear them to the team, but even if it was true, it wasn’t exceptionally impactful. It didn’t solve their problems. Probably only one thing could do that, and that was a common enemy. Annoyingly enough, he was right on time. The angry Fifth Divisioner, also known as A.F. had finally found the location of this secret base, having evidently been searching for it since he discovered that Séarlas-slash-Pacey-slash-his nameless engineer had betrayed him. He had a fleet at his fingertips now, and had the space station surrounded. He remotely managed to shut down all systems besides life support and artificial gravity. It was more than that, though, the team’s slingdrive array wasn’t working either. Mateo might have been able to get them out with his dark particles, but he still needed more time to recuperate.

Séarlas sighed. “Goddamn, I wish I hadn’t given that man quintessence technology.”

“Why did you?” Mateo asked.

“You asked us to move on to Plan B for the assassination of Bronach Oaksent? You are Plan B.” He scoffed and shook his head. “A.F. was Plan A.”

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