Microstory 2417: Racetrack Dome

< > Table of Contents

Generated by Google Flow text-to-video AI software, powered by Veo 2

I’m gonna say this real slow. This is a racetrack dome, which means there are...racetracks. That’s all it is. It’s hundreds of racetracks just all over tarnation. A racetrack here, a racetrack there. There’s even a track that runs the entire circumference of the dome, which is something like 260 kilometers. That sounds boring to me, but hey, you do you, right? I would much rather stay close to the inner tracks. They’re so much more interesting. The vehicles are electric, obviously, but they’re also electromagnetic. This allows them to do all sorts of crazy stuff, like drive up the wall, or even do loop-de-loops. There are jumps and shortcuts, and drops into rivers of lava. Yeah, this particular dome was chosen for its proximity to a volcano. The volcano isn’t inside the dome, and if there were ever an eruption, there are safeguards in place to seal off the lava flow, and protect the dome. But as long as everything’s copacetic, it’s there. Plus, they have clear emergency procedures in place. I mean, this hasn’t actually happened since I’ve been here, so there’s no way to know how effective their plans are, but they claim to be ready. Of course, the lava they do have is dangerous, as are all of the other tracks. Well, almost all of them. They have bumper cars, and some go-kart tracks too, for the kids, or people who want something a little lighter. If you do get hurt, and don’t want to just jump your consciousness to a new body, they have excellent medical teams on standby. I was never injured, but I did walk in once to find someone having just crashed on one of the traditional intermediate tri-ovals. I heard the collision from the corridor, and by the time I rounded the corner, they were already loading the driver into an ambulance. I asked after him later, and he’s fine; didn’t even have to switch to a new body. I can’t even begin to describe what other kinds of tracks they have here, but if you’ve ever played a racing video game, they’re pretty much all recreated here. They don’t have boats, planes, or spaceships, though. Man, people kept asking about that. I’ll say again, it’s a racetrack dome, not races in general. Look for that in another dome. I’m sure they’re somewhere. I see all these negative reviews from morons who are disappointed when the name alone tells you everything you need to know. Just think it through, and you’ll be pleased with what you find.

Microstory 2340: Vacuus, March 4, 2179

< > Table of Contents

Generated by Google ImageFX text-to-image AI software, powered by Imagen 3

Dear Condor,

It’s okay that Pascal won’t be able to write for a while. Honestly—and you don’t need to tell him this—it’s a little awkward. These are just letters, but I still felt like I was on a blind double date, which I know is a weird way to look at it. I suppose we could always speak through you if we really needed to. That’s great news about reaching your rendezvous point. How long will/did it take? By the time you read this letter, you may be well on your way back out into sea. Make sure you choose the right path, though. It sounds like the weather is pretty dangerous out there. I never thought about that, about how the toxins in the atmosphere could make things even more dangerous. We learned about climate breakdown in school. Things were already not as safe as they were a couple hundred years prior. Humans were evidently damaging Earth before they started to do it intentionally to harm each other! I just hope your leaders always exercise caution. Vacuus does have weather. It’s not nearly as bad as it is for you guys, it’s just different. We experience infrequent, and rather weak, dust storms. These can still damage our instrumentation, though, and our permanently outdoors equipment needs constant cleaning. Or rather, they don’t. We’ve incorporated state-of-the-art onboard self-cleaning technology into nearly everything. You have windshield wipers on your cars with wiper fluid? We do too, but for cameras and other sensors. Instead of going out to clean every day, our field maintenance workers go out periodically to refill the fluid, or maybe repair or replace a blade. It’s much easier, and the infrequency of the task lowers the risk of something happening to them while they’re exposed like that. They’re also at risk of running into electrical storms. These things happen all the time. Our habitats are riddled with lightning rods. They both protect us from the strikes, and help power our habitats. That’s something else we’ve developed out of necessity, ultracapacitors which capture the short, energetic burst of raw power, and store it safely for future use. I keep using words like we, but I obviously had no hand in any of this. As I’ve said, I’m not cut out for field work, and I have no interest in it. I didn’t choose where to break ground on our settlement either, which was not chosen at random. Other parts of the planet experience volcanic activity. Some of these are even cryovolcanoes, which release nasty chemicals like ammonia and methane. Thankfully, we’re really far from those things, but I have a friend who operates a drone array which studies the nearest spots. So yeah, it’s dangerous here, but not worse than Earth. At least no one did it on purpose.

Again, stay safe,

Corinthia

The Advancement of Mateo Matic: May 16, 2437

« < » > Table of Contents

Generated by Google Workspace Labs text-to-image Duet AI software

Finding the Vellani Ambassador was easy. Mirage had programmed it to follow her wherever she went while invisible with a space-warping generator on the hull, but something must have undone that at some point, because it was out in the open, and available to the public. The locals of Ex-666 had never entered the ship, but it was not clear yet whether they had ever tried, or if they deliberately stayed out of it. Because they had begun to revere it as a religious icon.

The government was a little too busy to return Mirage’s ship to her right away, though they did want to respect her ownership over it. They just really had to worry about preparing to go to war. The team was busy too, helping them take control of the eye in the sky. It was surprisingly easy. They were worried that there was some kind of catch that would come back to bite them in the ass, but the Chief Ascendant was convinced that no escape attempts had been made in the last 150 years, which probably caused some level of complacency.

Not much had actually changed about the world over the course of the last year. The armada from Ex-182 was not yet here. Some of the so-called prisoners were former fleet members, who knew enough about the ships that the empire used to tell them that they were mostly powered by reframe engines. They had built their vessels to be quite large, however, and scaling of the technology came at a cost. While regular fusion reactions were perfectly suitable to make the engine work for a smaller ship, like the Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez, capital ships demanded too much power. Not even a larger fusion reactor could compensate for the loss. The only way they could get up to maximum reframe speeds was to use matter-antimatter reactions. No one here knew enough about it to understand why that was a problem these days, but Mirage did.

“It was us,” she shrugged.

“You stole their antimatter reserves?” Leona asked her.

“Far as I know, it’s still there,” Mirage began to explain, but it’s hard to get to. It exists as a fully formed antistar, sitting out there alone in the void. Getting close enough to it to extract only as much antimatter that they need when they need it is a delicate dance. My team and I were tasked with engineering a containment megastructure. We were on schedule to completing that mission when I was separated from them, and captured. I knew that it was going to happen, so I made arrangements to halt all production and construction. If they returned to the project themselves, it’s going to take them a hell of a long time. I scattered my barges in all directions. Just getting them back would probably take longer than starting over from a new source of raw material.”

“Why were you helping them in the first place?” Mateo questioned. “Did you not realize that you were working for the bad guys?”

“We suspected from the beginning,” Mirage replied. “But we weren’t sure, we weren’t sure what level of technology they had—though it could have been vast considering their remoteness from the Earthan stellar neighborhood—and also we felt bad. We were the ones who destroyed their first antistar. For reasons I still don’t fully understand, they maintained a link between this region of the Milky Way, and Alpha Centauri. That’s how we ended up this far out in the first place. We were just going to Toliman to pick up my ship, which I had programmed to build itself years prior. There was something very wrong with that whole star system, so we blew up our asteroid to prevent anyone else from trying to investigate, and that’s what destroyed the star. It and the antistar annihilated each other.”

Leona winced. “Toliman has not been destroyed.”

“No, it had to have,” Mirage insisted. “What else could have happened?”

“I don’t know,” Leona contended, “but if Alpha Centauri B didn’t exist in this day and age, I would have heard about it.”

“Someone must have gone back to fix it,” Mirage guessed, “maybe me.”

“I don’t know how you would do that,” Ramses said.

“I have some ideas,” Mirage responded. She looked forward again, and sighed. “Looks like they’re nearly done.”

While Mirage was in the sixth circle of hell, the natives had transformed the site of the Vellani Ambassador into a sacred one. They didn’t worship the ship, nor whoever may have brought it here, but they conceived stories about how it might one day open for them, and a great savior would step out of it to rescue them from their damnation. It was only hitting them now that this was their very first sign of religious doctrine in this sector of the galaxy. The team hadn’t even noticed before, because vonearthan culture had managed to transcend its superstitious origins, so religion wasn’t much of a thing anymore. But the Goldilocks Corridor was apparently seeded with life thousands of years ago, and many of the worlds were severely underdeveloped. So it seemed rather odd, not that some evil religious order wasn’t controlling the masses alongside the evil empire, but that no one on the planets they had been to so far had taken comfort in the mystical. Was this agnosticism enforced...or incidental?

The religious leadership was dismantling the decorations and offerings that had been placed on and around the ship.  Some of them believed that Mirage was indeed their savior, and that their belief that she would literally come out of the Hope Chariot, which was what the worshipers called it, was just a matter of detail.

Why didn’t you have them do this before?” Angela asked. “You could have left before.”

“I figured I would give them one more year with it,” Mirage answered. “I knew that you would need that whole time to come back, and that kind of waiting means little to me in the long-run. I’ve developed high patience. Now they’ve had time to say their goodbyes.”

“Did you explain that it was just a regular ship, and not god, or whatever it is they believe?” Olimpia asked her.

“I don’t know if they believe me. Some think I am indeed the savior they’ve been waiting for, and others think that I’m just the one who is going to unlock it so the true savior can be released from it. This is a prison world, and while they’ve thrived here, they have not forgotten that. So if there’s a god of Ex-666, perhaps they’re a prisoner too, and maybe they’re trapped in the...Hope Chariot. It would explain why this deity hasn’t saved them yet.”

They had an interesting way to express respect here, at least as far as the religious people went. They would stretch their arms out wide, dip their nose down towards the ground as low as possible, and balance themselves out by raising one leg behind them as high as possible. Only the elderly members no longer flamingoed, but they still airplaned their arms, and lowered their head into a regular bow. The younger ones made the move with the most enthusiasm, and they did not care if they fell over in the attempt. “Hmm, it’s basically Warrior 3,” Marie noted, having tried yoga in the afterlife simulation in the early 19th century, before it was cool in the western world on Earth.

The Elder Priestess was the last in line to pay her respects to Mirage and the team. She made no attempt to bow, but smiled as wide as Mona Lisa, and nodded. As she passed by, she placed a comforting hand on Mirage’s shoulder, and walked down the hill to join the rest of the main group, who were watching from there. A huge crowd had convened behind them to witness the magic. Not everyone in the world believed, but surely there were plenty here who just wanted to see what happened. Fortunately, they were in an open expanse in the desert, which fit the instructions for the Ambassador to avoid populated areas, so something like this wouldn’t happen. The settlements here only sprung out as a result of its sudden appearance.

Mirage lifted her hand, and said in reference, “allons-y.” She snapped her fingers, prompting the back hatch of the ship to engage and lower. To her surprise, someone actually did step out. It was a young woman, perhaps in her early- to mid-twenties. She was completely ready for this, coming into the light with confidence and self-assuredness. The crowd went wild. A lot of them dove to the ground in a full Downward Facing Dog bow of intense unwavering loyalty and faith. The woman walked right down the hill, and approached Mirage. “Do you recognize me?”

“Niobe. You’re older now. How long have you been in there?”

This was the girl who was with Maqsud Al-Amin and Lilac’s son, Aristotle. She was a slave-child on Ex-324, but she originated on the Extremus planet of Verdemus. She smirked, and looked over at the team. “A few minutes.” She winked.

“Why?” Mirage asked.

“These people need someone to follow. They’re never going to let go of their convictions, at least not until they win the war. The Chief Ascendant is going to continue to run the state, but they are transitioning from peacetime, and they are severely underestimating what that is going to do to their culture. Someone else needs to be there to guide them. Now, I’m not going to explain why I’m the best person for the job, but it has to do with what I’ve experienced since we last saw each other. Just know that this is the right thing to do, and I’m not going to abuse my power. If you would like to be sure of that, you can stand by my side, Mirage. This team needs your ship more than you do.”

“What about...”

“Ex-10?” Niobe guessed. “Let it go, he means nothing. Do not be fooled by his low numerical designation. It’s a trick. Everything that Oaksent does is a joke, a smokescreen, or a mistake. So, how about it? Are you with me?”

Mirage looked back at the crowd, and let out her signature emulated sigh. She switched her gaze to Leona, who had made herself look like the real Iman Vellani. “Leona’s Rules for Time Travel, Number Fourteen, do not form, or inspire, a religion.”

“Leona is just a person,” Niobe reasoned, “not a god.”

“Nor are we.”

“We won’t act like one,” Niobe continued. “We’re there to help. They understand where we come from, but you were about to open this ship, and I saw an opportunity. I won’t apologize for that. I really am trying to help. The Empire must fall, and while I have limits to what I’m willing to do to accomplish that, this does not cross the line. You have to decide where your line is.”

Mirage shook her head as she thought about it. “Give me the rest of the day.”

« < » > Table of Contents

The Advancement of Mateo Matic: May 15, 2436

« < » > Table of Contents

Generated by Google Gemini Advanced text-to-image AI software, powered by Imagen 2

The new ship was done. The holographic projectors were up and running, making them look like something else entirely. Reminiscent of holodecks from the Star Trek franchise, a magnetic field of equivalent dimension gave it the impression of physical size, for when light was not enough. If someone, for instance, were to shoot a missile at a section of it that didn’t technically exist, it would not simply pass through it, but interact with this field, reinforcing the lie that they were bigger than they really were. In honor of this inspired technology, Ramses chose the USS Defiant from Star Trek: Deep Space Nine as their first hologram. It was a warship, so it looked a bit menacing, but was also relatively small. They couldn’t make it look as large as something like the Death Star, because the truth would be too easy to detect. There were a few other fictional ships that Ramses, and other members of the team, wanted to try, but they would eventually transition into original models. It wasn’t super likely that anyone in the Exin Empire had ever seen anything of these things, but there was always a chance.

This was an important test, because while the resort planet they just went to had no orbital infrastructure, Ex-666 did. It wasn’t much, but it was there, and it was trying to destroy them. Leona and Ramses both stayed on board so they could outrun it. For now, they were doing just fine with that. The defense satellite was apparently not designed to attack, but to prevent unauthorized entry. With this clearly being a penal colony, that made a hell of a lot of sense. So they were just going to keep away from it, and only fight back if the situation grew tiresome. Generally speaking, they did not operate on ships with weapons, but the Dorsch had an offensive system that they could use if they had no other choice. Ramses still had his eyes set on something brand new, advanced, and tailored specifically for their needs, but they weren’t going to find help on Ex-666, so that was still a dream for another day.

The rest of the team took the dropship down to investigate the surface. They didn’t want to teleport while they were being so closely watched, because they still didn’t know how ubiquitous such abilities were in this region of space. It could look too suspicious. The satellite may have called in reinforcements from somewhere, and who knew how quickly that would happen? Their only real concern was finding Vitalie!666, but it seemed ridiculous to not at least try to communicate with the locals. They were worried it would go terribly, and now was the moment of truth. “Good evening, folks. We are refugees from Ex-741. Have you, perchance, heard of it?” Mateo asked. At present, he looked like James Van Der Beek, because that was the only form he found himself able to maintain for extended periods of time for some reason. Again, hopefully no one here knew enough Earth pop culture to recognize him.

“We’ve heard of Ex-741,” one woman replied. “Why would you need to be a refugee from there? Weren’t you just engineers and technicians?”

“They were technicians,” Mateo lied, pointing to Angela, who looked like her finishing school teacher, and Marie, who looked like Marie Antoinette. “I was a janitor. She was a singer,” he added, pointing to Olimpia, who looked like a woman she had a crush on while she was still living in society on Earth.

“Singer? The dockyard had singers?”

“We need entertainment too. Anyway—” He had this whole explanation about how Ex-741 was going to be destroyed, and they were the last to escape, but they got lost in space, but these people didn’t seem to care.

“Sing something,” the woman insisted.

“Well, she doesn’t have to do it on comman—” Mateo started to say, but he was interrupted yet again.

“No problem.” Olimpia started to sing, using that positively gorgeous voice that the other five had forgotten she had, because she did not do this often enough. The locals were just as enamored by it. More started walking up when they heard it. They all clapped profusely after she was finished singing Ex:Re’s The Dazzler.

The woman from before smiled and nodded. “You’ve landed in the right place. This is where the Chief Ascendant lives. He’ll want to meet you.” She looked over to a teenager nearby. “Go gather some wagmen.” The young man ran off, and when he returned with five men who were rolling a wagon by hand, the woman rolled her eyes. “I meant pedal wagmen, son. These are honored guests.”

“Wait,” Mateo said, stepping forward. “You don’t have automobiles, so you get around by people who walk or pedal?”

“That’s right,” she answered. “Our technology is limited. You’ve fallen on a prison world. I’m sorry.”

Mateo shook his head. “Just tell us where the Chief Ascendant lives. We can walk there on our own. Really, we’re built tough. We insist,” he added when he saw that she was going to argue.

“Very well. It’s not far, just up the road.” She pointed up the hill.

The four of them nodded, and headed that way. Once they were at the sort of castle-looking building, the guards opened the gates with no questions, and let them through. They were wearing headsets, likely connected to radios, which meant that their technology wasn’t evenly limited. Who knew what other anachronistic things that they used in their daily lives?

They expected this Chief Ascendant to be lounging around on a bed full of pillows, and a harem of women, but he was behind a standing desk, along with other people. They were looking through papers, and discussing matters of state. “Ah. You are the freemen, aren’t you? Welcome to Ex-666.” He didn’t stop working. He kept signing declarations, and approving memos, or whatever else his staff was asking him to do.

“You’ve built yourself a nice society here, haven’t you,” Mateo put forth.

“Yes, well, we share a common purpose. We all hate the Exin Empire. I don’t know who told them that they should throw all of their insurgents onto one world, but we are probably the most successful one in the region. We work together, and if you’re here to disrupt our way of life, we will fight back.”

“That’s not why we’re here,” Mateo insisted. He was doing all the talking today. That was probably fine, for now. My colleagues are up in our ship right now, avoiding the ire of your orbital defense satellite.”

The Chief Ascendant laughed. “It’s not ours. It’s part of what keeps us here.”

“Do you want us to destroy it for you?”

The Chief Ascendant stopped, and raised one eyebrow at Mateo. “You came here in a warship?”

“It has weapons. It’s not a warship, but my engineer assures me that they can do it. They just don’t know what the consequences will be.”

“They’ll send an armada from Ex-182.”

Mateo sighed. “We can’t protect you from all that.”

“Could you...gain control over it?”

Mateo smirked, and turned his head slightly away to listen to Leona’s response. “Yeah, they surely could. They just need to get on board.”

“You could have anything you wanted,” the Chief Ascendant began, “if you did that for us.” He placed his elbow on the desk, and pointed to the sky. “That thing has an energy beam that can shut off all systems from hundreds of ships all at once, and then draw them in. If we had control over it, instead of the Exins, we would beg the armada to come, so that we could steal it.”

Mateo cleared his throat, and faced the group. “What do y’all think?” The conversation over comms was short, so he turned right back around. “Any enemy of Bronach Oaksent is a friend of ours.” He looked at the twins. “Go help them.”

Angela and Marie nodded. Angela tapped on her chest twice. “Two to beam up.” They both teleported away.

The crowd gasped. “You have some wild technology.” The Chief Ascendant noted.

Mateo chuckled. “They destroyed our planet on purpose, and since they didn’t wanna be destroyed along with it, they ran off a long time before it happened. We were left behind, with no oversight, so we stole all the tech we could, and flew off in the opposite direction.”

“Yes,” the Chief Ascendant agreed. “Their inability to organize, and our ability to do so, will ultimately be their downfall.”

One of his men sidled up to him, and whispered in his ear, “sir? What about the True Prisoner? They could help with her too.”

“Who is the True Prisoner?” Mateo asked, having easily heard his remark.

“This whole planet is a prison,” the Chief Ascendant began to explain, “but it is lush with vegetation, and other useful resources. We can’t leave, but most people don’t feel the need to. They’ve built a life for themselves. They entrust me to protect them, and to prepare to fight in their stead, which you’ve agreed to help us with. The point is, very few of us actually feel like prisoners. For the most part, things are better than they were before we came here. More would probably come on purpose if we could get the message out to them, letting them know that crime actually does pay. Only one of us is in a real prison. We, uhh...have been trying to get to her for decades. We don’t know anything about her; who she is, what she did to anger the Empire so much, or how she is able to survive the extreme heat and noxious fumes.”

“Extreme heat, and noxious fumes?” Mateo echoed. That sounded familiar to him. “Is she in a volcano?”

“You are quite perceptive. Yes, she is. It’s quite a distance to this volcano, but if you can teleport, you can get there quickly, and maybe even get her out. We would sure like to finally meet her.”

“Show me.”

The Chief Ascendant called for a map. His Prime Cartographer explained where they would be going, and went into more detail about the temperatures involved. Someone also called ahead to let the people who lived closer know that visitors would be arriving, and would need firesuits. Mateo thought about arguing against the need for such things, but decided not to bother. “Uhh...two more to beam up,” Mateo said awkwardly, trying to replicate Angela’s fake request for a technological solution. Unfortunately, he tapped on his chest after his request, instead of before, which would mean that their team wouldn’t have even heard it. That was stupid of him, but there was no undoing it now. He and Olimpia just let it go, and disappeared.

They found themselves in the magma chamber, standing on a solid rock formation. The heat was intense, as were the fumes. They could see a manmade structure shimmering in the distance, sitting upon its own rock island. It had a metal frame, but most of his was transparent, surely made of some kind of heat-resistant polycarbonate material. Mateo and Olimpia looked over to their left as someone was slowly side-stepping towards them in a shiny suit. They were holding an extra firesuit in their hand, and struggling in the attempt to give it to whoever was willing to take it. They were clearly finding it difficult to move in the thing, full stop, and the two of them didn’t need all that dead weight. Mateo dismissed the helpful volcanologist’s help, waving him away politely. He took Olimpia’s hand, and they made a jump into the cell. It was better inside, though not by much. Now that they were closer, he could see that this was no ordinary prisoner. He took her in his arms, and jumped them both to safety.

“Took ya long enough, James Van Der Beek!” Mirage exclaimed.

Mateo instinctually dropped his hologram, and turned back into himself. “Mirage Reaver, how the hell long have you been in there, dude?”

“That’s not my last name. What year is it?”

“It’s 2436.”

“I’ve been in there for eighty-three years,” she answered. “I did get one break thirty-six years ago, but then I had to go back.”

“Argh! God, it’s been so long!” He stepped back into her, and gave her a big hug. “I can’t believe you’re, like, all into this whole thing.”

“I’ve been doin’ my own thang, man. I know people. I’ve had adventures. I’ve traveled through time.”

“Not all it’s cracked up to be, eh?”

Leona appeared next to them. “Mirage. It’s nice to see you. Last we saw each other, you were on Altair.”

“You knew that she was back in this dimension?” Mateo questioned.

“I don’t tell you everything.”

“Are we cool?” Mirage asked Leona.

“We’re cool,” Leona confirmed. “Ramses is alive and well.”

“Thank you for getting me out of there. That place sucked. And also, hello.”

“Hi, I’m Olimpia.”

“Olimpia Sangster. It’s nice to finally meet you in person. I helped you once. You didn’t know it was me.”

“Thank you,” Olimpia replied graciously, not asking her to clarify.

“So.” Mirage clapped her hands together. “This is a prison world. My ship is nearby, and it’s invisible, so if you need a way to escape, you can come with me.”

“Where are you going?” Mateo asked her.

“I have a score to settle.” She looked at her bare wrist. “I just hope he’s still alive.”

Leona was too curious. What kind of vessel would an entity like Mirage build for herself? “What’s the name of your ship?”

“It’s actually a module called the Ambassador. It can detach from, and propel itself independently of, the main ship, which I named The Iman Vellani.”

« < » > Table of Contents

The Advancement of Mateo Matic: February 7, 2399

« < » > Table of Contents

Leona received Ramses’ message. She understands the low chances of finding her husband, dead or alive, but she will hold onto hope. She’ll never let go of it. She’s never done it before, and she’s always ended up right. Mateo has died so many times, it’s not even funny. He was once completely removed from existence by an asshole god creature, and not even that lasted. She’ll get him back, even if she has to break Danica’s rule, and travel through time for a rescue mission. She does need more information, though, which is why she has asked Aldona for a favor.

“Well, which volcano was this?”

“Ramses didn’t say,” Leona replies.

“Did you try calling him back?”

“The line is dead. He’s cut all ties.”

“Makes sense. I’m sorry”

“So, is there nothing we can do? Is there no chance?”

“I’m an expert in antimatter rocket engines. I’ve never operated a teleportation machine. Is there some way to...I dunno, trace it? Seems as though it would make a pretty big mark on the world, an explosion like that. And since there isn’t much teleportation going on in this reality, it should be unique, or at least rare.”

“I don’t know enough about it either,” Leona admits. “That particular machine is more his area. But yes, there is a way to trace teleportation. Unfortunately, the, umm...”

“Oh, shit, you didn’t get your satellite in orbit.”

“No.”

“Because I didn’t let you.”

Leona waits to respond. “Right.”

Aldona sighs. “I don’t suppose getting up there now would do you any good.”

“Not for this issue, no.”

“I’m worried something like this will happen again, though. If you need to be able to trace temporal powers, then I’ll make sure that you have what you need. I’ll fast-track authorization. As far as Mateo goes, there may be other ways. Like I said, it was a big explosion. Sure, a volcano is already pretty violent, but maybe one of them exhibited some unusual behavior recently. That sort of thing would be recorded by other research instruments that have nothing to do with any of this. Let me make a few calls.”

“I would appreciate that.”

Aldona nods, and leaves Leona’s office. A few seconds later, she reopens the door. “You’re off today. Just relax.”

“Okay,” Leona says, but she’s not going to do that. It’s not what Mateo would want, and it’s not practical. She doesn’t have the resources or connections to locate the volcano where her husband supposedly died, so taking any time off is a waste of the stuff. As a traveler, she understands the value of a day, and what it will cost them if they lose one. When they figure out which volcano to even search in the first place, maybe she’ll stop what she’s doing to investigate. Until then, she’s going to focus on her work. This does not change her responsibilities or obligations. In fact, things are even more dire. They can’t prove that Constance!Five was destroyed any more than they can prove it for Mateo. The danger remains. Having that satellite up there sooner rather than later would sure help, though. So why wait?

They talk of it being placed in orbit, but it already is in orbit. It just needs to be deployed from Mangrove Zero, and become independent. That can be done remotely by piloting the onboard robotics. All right, so she’s not going to work exactly, but Aldona gave her permission to do whatever she wanted, so she’s going to consider this a gray area. She logs herself into the system, and gets to work. It only takes about thirty minutes before it’s where it needs to be, free from the confines of the rocket, and able to operate on its own. Now it’s only a matter of time before it makes a complete pass around the planet, and scans every brain in the world for neurotemporal irregularities. She leans back to wait for it, but gets a hit right away.

“What the hell is that?” she asks herself out loud. Antarctica is positively brimming with temporal errors. Coronel Zacarias must have figured out how to activate the Nexus, and has invited visitors to this world, perhaps from other universes. There’s actually no way to know if they are visitors. Maybe they invited themselves, and are starting an invasion. The Mozambican Navy may require assistance, or not. She does not have a way to contact them, and she has no idea whether Mozambique is even involved in the Mangrove Program, so it’s best not to cross those streams. And anyway, there were only eleven pings during the first scan, so these people don’t count. So she does lean back, and wait for the full scan.

An hour and a half later, another hit comes up on the screen. No, it’s two hits in the same place. We got ourselves a pair, and they’re close. They’re on Vulcan Point. What a coincidence, that’s one of the places she’s supposed to go. Now is as good a time as any. She’s on vacation, and she’s all alone here. She’s experiencing a healthy professional relationship with Aldona, but they are not friends. They’re certainly not vacation buddies. Yeah, it’s not really a vacation, but that’s exactly what she’s going to call it when she requisitions the jet. She finishes a few outstanding items on her to-do list, then heads up to the transportation office. Apparently everyone at this facility has heard what happened, so the administrators are happy to give her access to a jet. She’s not a pilot, though, so she can’t go alone.

“Captain Tarboda Hobson,” Leona remarks as she’s walking towards the steps. “You’re involved in everything, aren’t ya?”

“I’m always here for you, Mrs. Matic.”

“I thank you for that. Have you finished your preflight checklist?”

“I have. I’m ready to go if you are. Allow me.” He holds out a hand, and escorts her up to the jet. In the main sequence, the U.S.A. makes the best aircraft, but here, it’s Russia without a doubt. This bird is one of theirs, and while Russia proper is not part of the alliance, there is a faction working at Mangrove in secret. They’ve not fully defected.

An hour later, they land in an airfield that’s about thirty minutes from Taal Lake. It is here that they are asked to wait in a 24-hour quarantine. They’re getting ready for bed when they hear a knock at the door. Leona opens it to find an old man on the other side. “Can I help you?” she asks.

“My name is Roeland Harlow.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Roeland Harlow.” Who is this guy?

“I believe you’re here for me.” He pulls his shirt away to reveal the timonite stain on his shoulder that got on all of the travelers that Ramses’ original satellite scanned.

“I was actually looking for two of you.”

He scowls and points aggressively. “No. There is only me. You’ll talk to me!”

The Advancement of Mateo Matic: February 6, 2399

« < » > Table of Contents

When Mateo insisted Ramses teleport out of the magma chamber of the volcano to save himself, he just jumped without thinking about where he wanted to go. Home would be the obvious answer, but he’s not had a home in a very long time. He’s lived on ships, labs, lofts, flying cars, and other random places. His subconscious must have taken over the responsibility of navigation, because he ended up in Egypt. It’s where he was born, and where he spent his younger days, but he feels no strong sentiment towards it. This isn’t even the right version of Egypt. It’s a bastardization, and that’s the nicer way to put it.

Danica’s Omega Gyroscope is what explains why anything in this reality is even remotely similar to the way things are in the main sequence, but something went wrong when it was programming Egypt. This area is where civilization began, but it did not thrive here. Great unrest forced mass migration centuries ago, to the West in Africa, the North in Europe, and to the Southeast in Asia. What was left was a sad approximation of what a culture should look like. While his Egypt stood tall, especially in the latter century, this one was short and pathetic, literally speaking. Their tallest regular building is four stories high, and there’s only one like that. It’s the Port at Said, and it was partially built by Greece, which exports to the rest of the world through the Suez Canal. That’s the only reason this version of Egypt is still alive at all, because they’re in the way.

The Great Pyramid is here, which is surprising, but it’s the only ancient structure that the people still maintain, because they do get a few tourists. Plus, some ships are required to wait in the canal for customs approval, or because there’s a line, so sailors stay in Giza, which boasts the only moderately decent hotel. It’s also anonymous, which is perfect, because that is what Ramses needs right now. He’s not going back to Mangrove One, and there’s nothing left for him in Kansas City.

Angela and Marie are in space, Mateo is dead, and Alyssa is missing. Yes, he made a commitment to find her, but he would probably just mess it up. He’s not the only one who could. Leona can do it just as easily, and she will, because she cares about her just as much. They now have the world’s most powerful governments at their backs, with all of the resources they could need. They don’t need him. He can’t face Leona with what he’s done. He lived. He escaped when Mateo couldn’t, and he’ll have to live with that for the rest of his life, which could be a pretty long time if something eventually changes, and he gets his transhumanistic upgrades back.

Ramses is a genius, which is why it only took him a few minutes to write a little script that will allow him to leave Leona a voicemail without worrying about her answering any ringing. “Hey, it’s Ram. I’m sure you’ve been wondering where we are. I’m bouncing this signal all over the world, so you’ll never find me. You’ll never see me again. I’m sorry to rob you of your chance to confront me, but I... Mateo is dead. Constance!Five broke free, and he had to sacrifice himself. Now, I know I thought that last time, but I really don’t see any way out of this. He was in a volcano, and I programmed the Bridgette’s self-destruct to go off in seconds after activation. I got the alert on my device—he went through with it—it did blow up. I’m sorry I left him behind, I’m sorry I’m the one who lived instead, and I’m sorry for not coming back, but I have to protect you. I have to protect you all from me. I love you. Goodbye.”

The Advancement of Mateo Matic: February 5, 2399

« < » > Table of Contents

Mateo spent a little longer talking to the current passengers of the AOC than he intended, but that’s not really what’s preventing him and Ramses from returning to Mangrove One. After some thoughtful discussion, they decided that it’s time to get rid of Constance!Five for good. They also decided to keep Leona out of it, for reasons of plausible deniability, and to also keep her conscience clean. Some may simply call it destruction of property, but that’s in bad faith. What even is a person? Philosophers, civil servants, activists, and other thinkers in the main sequence spent millennia working on a definition that not everyone agrees on, even now. Constance!Five is a person, and if they want to destroy her, murder is the only word for it. To put it any other way would be a cop out.

They spent all day yesterday clearing the vehicle of all nonessential systems, including life support, which normally rests on the essential side of things. If the android wakes up before they get the chance to jettison her stasis pod, they don’t want her having any access to an electrical system. People often call ships tin cans jokingly, but in this case, that really will be what it is, except for the tin part. It’s the only post-transition metal that isn’t on the Bridgette.

They’re currently floating in the middle of the Bermuda Triangle to refuel with Existence water. “Are we ready to go?”

Ramses sighs, and looks around at the bare vessel, as if it were their home of the last twenty years, and they’ve just packed everything up to move. Ah, the memories. “It must be. I’ve modified the teleporter to only operate by the living fingerprints of both of us simultaneously, but only using my right pinky, left thumb, and left index, plus your right ring finger, right middle finger, and right thumb.”

“Sounds complicated,” Mateo says.

“It’s like a password. Constance!Five can presumably make herself look like anyone, perhaps down to the tiniest of details, but she won’t know which fingers to use.”

“She’s alive, though, so if you were thinking that her fingerprints also won’t work because of that—”

“No, no, no. That’s just so she can’t kill us, and then try to unlock the controls, because maybe she can’t replicate dactylograms, I don’t know.”

“Right.”

Ramses steps over, and hands Mateo a slip of regular paper. “Memorize this, and then destroy the paper.”

“This is what you just told me, about which fingers to use.”

“Yes.” His demeanor has suddenly grown somber.

“What is it, Rambo?”

“Did you memorize it?”

“Yeah, ‘cause I heard you the first time.”

“Recite them, in a random order, without looking at the paper.”

“My right thumb and middle finger, your left index, my right ring finger, your  left thumb, and right pinky. I’ve gotten better at my memory.”

“Okay, now switch my name with yours, and that’s the self-destruct sequence.”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“Your left thumb and index fingers, and your right pinky. If you place those on the panel of the teleporter, it will explode. You don’t need me to activate it, and I don’t need you. As long as one of us is alive, we can do it.”

“Why would we do that?”

“I think you know why. It is a last resort, but it is not a non-option. You hear me? We both have to go into this knowing it to be a possibility. Every enemy we’ve gone up against has been incredibly dangerous, but Constance may be the worst one. We don’t know that much about her, but think about how scared you have been of Danica because she runs the Constant, then multiply that by a thousand, and you may come close to understanding the threat she poses. Because she’s the one who truly runs it.”

“I understand. My right pinky, and my left index and thumb.”

“Okay, let’s hope we never need to use it. Remember, it’s only if she breaks free.”

“Definitely. Let’s do it to it.”

They take one more look around to make sure that everything is as safe as possible, then they prepare to make the jump. Ramses programs the teleporter to navigate to Heard Island. They align their fingers, and go.

Wreckage all over the place, the smell of once-burning fires overwhelms the air. Already decomposing bodies are strewn about. There’s a wheel, and there’s a wing. This was an airplane, and these people’s deaths are the team’s fault. They thought that this was a remote region of the ocean, but apparently not. They’ll have to worry about finding out why the plane was flying this far south later. For now, they have to find Constance!Five. They run over the rocks, avoiding the sharp edges of the metal. There’s the stasis pod. It’s closed. Not only that, but it’s still closed. She’s still in there.

“Is this just a coincidence?”

“Not likely,” Ramses replies. “Wait, what the hell is that?” He kneels down, and looks at the keypad. “Oh, shit.” He pulls something out of it.

“What is that?” Mateo asks.

“Something I didn’t put there. I think it was hacking the lock to find the code.”

Mateo breathes a sigh of relief. “But you got it in time.”

A soft hiss is released when the hatch of the pod opens.

“Evidently not.”

Constance!Five smirks as she’s coming out of the pod like a vampire from their coffin. “Don’t feel bad. I reprogrammed avionics to upload a quantum hack to the keypad. The upload was completed days ago, it’s been working in situ this whole time. You couldn’t have stopped it.”

Trying to think quickly, Ramses teleports right behind Constance!Five, and tries to inject her with a power suppressant sedative. She grabs the syringe, and breaks it between her fingers. “Fool me once.” She takes him by the neck, and begins to squeeze.

With only a little left air in his lungs, Ramses looks over at Mateo, and ekes out, “destroy Bridgette; only thing that can find Cedar.”

“Cedar?” Constance!Five releases her grip, and drops him to the ground.

Mateo looks over his shoulder at the Bridgette, then teleports away. That’s not where he goes, though. He jumps behind a boulder, and secretly watches Constance!Five try to follow him. He then jumps back to Ramses.

“You have to destroy it,” Ramses argues, massaging his neck.

“We will, but she has to be in it first, and I want there to be no escape. I know where to take her.” Mateo makes one last personal jump, taking Ramses with him. They’re in the crawl space underneath the fuselage. They can hear Constance!Five moving around up top, trying to induce what the hell is going on. Mateo slides over to program the destination himself, having researched this a long time ago. He was told it was an idiotic idea, but it may be the only one they have. They jump.

It’s extremely hot here, as one might expect for a chamber inside of a volcano. “Now you can go,” Mateo whispers.

“No.”

“Only one of us needs to die. Go! Please!”

The hatch opens, and Constance!Five sticks her head down. “Here’s Connie!”

“GOOOOOOOO!” Mateo shouts.

Thankfully, Ramses disappears.

“You’re not getting off that easy.”

“Yippee ki yay, motherfucker.” Mateo places the correct fingers on the teleporter. He can feel it start to heat up, and in seconds, the explosion begins. But it doesn’t keep going. Everything freezes, including Constance!Five.

A hand appears out of the aether, between Mateo and Constance!Five. It bends the fingers to meet the thumb, and starts turning around slowly. It kind of looks like a periscope. It stops when it sees Mateo. Then it opens up, and waves him towards it.

Mateo crawls towards the extraction mirror, but does slip through it. He keeps going until he reaches Constance!Five. If his mysterious savior from the future has the ability to slow time down long enough to mount an effective rescue mission, Constance!Five has time to framejack a way out of this predicament too. He needs to shorten that time as much as possible. He takes her by the shoulders, and drags her along the floor until she’s right up against the teleporter. Only then does he make his way back to the mirror, and dive in head first.

“Did that work? Is she dead?” Mateo asks. He’s in a room that he doesn’t specifically recognize, but it looks a lot like Constant architecture. Leona is there, as are Ramses, Leona, and Winona.

“It has not been that long,” Leona answers. “If she survived, we’ve not seen her.”

Mateo looks around. He sees what looks like a closed viewport. He slowly heads for it, and even slowerly reaches for the shade. No one stops him, so he opens it, and looks out. He sees the stars. It’s nothing new, and it doesn’t give him even an approximate location. This could be anywhere. “Guys...where are we?”

Leona smiles. “We’re at that Phoenix location in the Oort Cloud that we’ve been talking about for ages.”

“Finally made it, eh?” He nods and returns to the viewport, just to enjoy the starscape. He turns back upon realizing something. “Aquila said you’d find me here.”

“Yes,” Leona says. “She wasn’t wrong or lying. We just didn’t have all the info.”

He steps away, and takes a gander at the extraction mirror. “Have you used this for anyone else yet?”

Leona steps over to a control panel on the wall. With it, she opens the hatches for three cloning pods. “You were never killed, so you don’t need a new body. Neither do we. The rest have been taken care of.”

Mateo gets closer to see the clones that are growing in the pods. One of them is himself. The other two are Ramses and Leona.

“Okay. Maybe you’ve been gone for a little while.”

The Advancement of Mateo Matic: January 20, 2399

« < » > Table of Contents

Mateo is getting out of the hospital today. Constance!Five worked him over pretty good, but he’s still wearing a highly advanced substrate, so he heals fast. A little rest, a little protein, a little sun, and he’s as good as new. Ramses is with him now while Leona and Alyssa are getting the house ready. It’s Arcadia and Vearden’s house. It was nowhere near large enough to accommodate the whole team back when they first bought it, but their numbers have been pared down significantly since then. Mateo and Leona will get the second bedroom. The boys will get what is eventually going to become the nursery. Ramses and Alyssa are going to share the master bedroom, because it’s the largest. They’ll erect a curtain for more privacy. Arcadia is being moved to a long-term wing, to a room that can fit a companion.

For now, there is no lab. Normal technology is fine, like handhelds and tablets, but nothing advanced can be trusted. Constance!Five may have wormed her way into the internet, but she can do more damage with a teleporter gun than a phone. Ramses will work on a way of detecting and neutralizing the threat, but not here, and not now.

“There’s something I wanted to talk to you about,” Alyssa says as they’re carrying the crib down to the basement.

“What is it?” Leona asks.

“Mateo and Vearden want to get rid of the stasis pod, and everything that’s in it.”

“That’s the goal.” She looks over her shoulder to recount the number of steps.

“They want to do it now. Mateo’s idea was to teleport it to a volcano, and then his second idea was to shoot it into the sun.”

“Neither of those ideas is going to work.” They set the crib down in the corner.

“I suggested we try to take it back to the Constant.”

“Ugh.” Leona pulls some cobwebs out of her hair. “We don’t know where it is anymore. Besides, what makes you think Danica and all them will help us?”

“They don’t have to want to help us,” Alyssa says. “We’ll drop it off and fly away. What are they gonna do, return it? Good luck; they don’t have a receipt. It was a gift.”

“No. We can’t have that. Even if we successfully convince them that this version of Constance is dangerous, that’s the most powerful building in the universe. We don’t want her anywhere near it. That may be where she wanted to go all along. Just being in proximity—even while in stasis—could trigger this reality’s Constance into turning evil.”

“Oh, I didn’t think of that.”

“Sorry, the pod stays where it is. I know that means she continues to survive, but it’s our only option right now.” Transporting her anywhere is too dangerous. They know that she’s framejacking in there. That’s okay for now, because it’s a function of mental speed, not physical motion. But one day, she will break out of that pod, and moving her could expedite that. “We don’t know enough about her yet. I need your help.”

“With what?” Alyssa asks, looking around the basement.

“With making sure my husband doesn’t do something stupid. I wish he would always listen to me, but he...I don’t know, he just doesn’t. He has a soft spot for young women, though not in the way you think. He sees the helpless naïve girl that I was when we met. I’m not saying you should manipulate him, but you can...guide his choices.”

“I’ll see what I can do.”

The Advancement of Mateo Matic: August 22, 2398

« < » > Table of Contents

Mateo, Winona, and Tarboda arrived on Rapa Nui yesterday, but they were required to wait in a facility during a 24-hour quarantine period. They came out with a clean bill of health, and are presently arriving at the volcano on the southern end of Easter Island, Ranu Kao. The last time Mateo was here, it was in the main sequence, and things were a lot different. For him, this island is famous for the mysterious humanoid sculptures that are located in a different region. For the people of The Third Rail, this is a nice resort with a rich history that the people who visit here don’t care all that much about. The island has beautiful landscapes, unique flora, and tame fauna, and is considered one of the best places to go if you want to get away from civilization, since it’s so far from the mainland. The statues Mateo remembers were never built here, though. He can’t recall exactly what they’re called, and since they don’t exist, no one can tell him. Perhaps this island doesn’t have any special temporal properties here. It would explain why the crater lake that’s meant to be here is completely dry.

“Is that bad?” Winona asks. “What does that mean?”

“I have no idea,” Mateo answers. “Leona should be here.”

“She’s quite busy.”

“Because your father is trying to take over the world with fusion power!” he argues, but he knows that he shouldn’t be too mad about it. Of course the government would want to mass produce the greatest breakthrough in energy production thus far. Leona knew it would happen, she just didn’t realize how little they cared about the rocket they built, which started it all.

“You said there was a secret passageway under the water,” Winona says, taking no offense to his words. “Maybe it’s still down there.”

He just frowns and kicks at the dirt.

“Come on. Let’s go on down. Tarboda, stay up here and keep a lookout.” The pilot nods respectfully. He’s been pretty cool about all this. He doesn’t seem to have ever belonged in that amoral group of mercenaries they met in Bermuda.

They carefully climb down the steep sides of the crater, and head for the bottom. As it was indeed underwater, and pretty dark, Mateo can’t remember exactly where the cave was, but it was somewhere on the opposite side as the ocean. His instinct is that it’s precisely the opposite, so that’s where they start looking. At a quick glance, there is no opening, which makes sense, or someone would have found it forever ago. Still, it can’t require a key, or a map, or an incantation. He also won’t accept the possibility that, like the moai—oh yeah, that’s what they’re called—it just doesn’t exist at all. It has to be here somewhere. All of the other significant places they’ve been to have been at least a little significant in this reality too. He starts running his hands along the walls, looking for anything unusual. “Go that way, please,” he asks her.

She does as he asks, but her heart’s not in it. Neither is his, but even so, they keep working at it. She has one little collapsible shovel, and one machete. She gives him the former to look for unstable spots. There’s so much ground to cover, and they don’t know where it might be on the z-axis, so Tarboda drops ropes down, and manages them from the top of the crater. No one comes to find them doing this. It’s apparently not that popular of a tourist destination, probably because it’s dried up, and they’re approaching the off-season. They work at this for hours. Ramses sent a bottle of Existence water in case he needed to do an emergency teleport, but it’s probably not going to come up, so he just drinks it once his regular canteen runs out. Once that container runs out, he decides that there is no point in going on. “Stop, just stop. There’s nothing here.”

“I know,” Winona agrees. “I’m sorry that this was such a disappointing trip.”

“What’s that you say!” Tarboda asks from above.

“We’re calling it quits!” Mateo explains.

“Oh, okay! I’ll pull you up!”

“No! I’m gonna do one more thing!” He removes his harness, and drops a meter down to the ground. Then he runs over to as close to the center of the crater as he can find. Here, while flipping off the world beyond, he pees. “Now who’s too dry?” he asks the island. Once he’s finished, he turns around, and gives the other two a thumbs up.

“Real classy!” Winona shouts at him.

He pumps his fist in the air. “Yeah!” Yeah, is right, assuming the question is if he’s tired, hungry, and closer to dehydration than he probably should be for as much as he drank. He tries to start walking back towards his rope when the ground trembles; just a little, but enough to throw him off balance.

“You better come on back!” Winona advises.

“I’ll get right on it!” Mateo replies. He starts again, but the ground shakes again, this time much harder. Each time he stops, the shaking stops, and each time he tries to move again, it moves too. Either it’s a coincidence, or some wibbly-wobbly shit is going on down here.

“Run!” Winona yells at him.

He takes her advice, but doesn’t get very far. The ground caves in under him, starting from the center, and expanding out, but not uniformly. It becomes impossible for him to stay ahead of it when the ground between him and Winona disappears early. Before he can see if enough of the Existence water is still in his system for him to teleport, he falls, and loses consciousness.

He awakens in the tall grass, wet from the morning dew. He’s not aching anywhere, but he’s dizzy and confused, and he can’t see well. His short term memory is gone at first, and has to come back to him in waves as he’s looking around and blinking, trying to fix his vision. The fuzziness subsides, and reveals an open grassy area, and some nearby trees. Winona and Tarboda are both lying there too. He crawls over to confirm their pulses and steady breaths. This is enough to wake them up, and they seem to be experiencing the same symptoms as they work to wake themselves up more.

“Where are we?” Tarboda asks.

“Unknown,” Mateo answers. We fell down into a cave, though, and now we’re back on the surface. Either someone moved us, or...”

“Or what?”

“Or we traveled. Can you both walk?” Mateo asks.

“Yes,” they answer simultaneously.

The three of them struggle to their feet, then struggle some more, like a newborn calf. Once they feel comfortable enough, they pick a random direction, and begin walking. It’s not long before they come upon something that Mateo recognizes. “Whoa.”

“What the hell is that?” Winona asks.

“That is Stonehenge, and these...are the missing British Isles.”

“The whatnow?”