Varkas Reflex: Thought (Part III)

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Osiris seemed like a genuine person, who legitimately wanted to help people. Hokusai probably needn’t worry about what he was going to try to do with her technology, but that was rarely the problem. Most technological advancements didn’t risk falling into the wrong hands so much as each development inevitably led to further developments. Sure, you have things like the Manhattan Project, which was specifically designed to kill people, and the scientists working on the problem of fission knew exactly that that was the goal. But most of the time, science must, and will, press forward, and the best one can hope for is understanding consequences. At first, dimensional gravity was used to allow people to walk around on this heavy world in designated areas. Then it was used to launch ships into the sky. Now it was being used to help people move around anywhere, with their own personal gravitational field. This all sounded very good and benevolent, but each application could transform, and that could happen in the blink of an eye.

Given enough time and motivation, someone with dimensional gravity could create an execution platform. They could launch a vulnerable living being into the empty, or they could increase gravity, and crush them like a soda can. They could create a handheld weapon that tore a target apart, with each limb being drawn in a different direction. They could design regular-sized missiles that traveled interstellar distances at such mind-boggling speeds—and thus contained ungodly amounts of energy—and destroy a whole planet. Plus, manipulating gravity also means manipulating time, so something like this could be used to imprison people for years, while only seconds passed for those outside the prison. These were just the risks that Hokusai could come up with on the top of her head, and they only involved the artificial gravity aspect of it. Tapping into other temporal or spatial dimensions could come with even worse consequences.

Osiris appeared to sense that her concerns had not gone away, which they never would. Still, he was determined to help alleviate them any way he could. “Come. I want to show you one last thing for the day.” He led them farther down the hallway, until reaching a very ominous door at the end. The sign said, Gravity Weapons Laboratory.

“This. This is exactly what I was worried about. I can’t believe you—!”

“Open the door, Madam Gimura,” Osiris said.

Hokusai could only shake her head in disappointment, so Pribadium decided to open the door herself. On the other side was nothing but a stone wall. “Is it a hologram?” she asked. To answer her own question, she reached up to find a real, physical wall.

“What is this?” Loa questioned, kind of protectively of her wife.

“It’s a symbol,” Osiris began to explain. “This is no trick. It’s not a secret transporter that takes you to the lab. The lab doesn’t exist, and it never will. We built this door to remind us that nothing we need is on the other side of it, and it never needs to become a room. As long as we’re in charge of this technology, it won’t be abused, and we will remain in charge as long as we’re alive, and if we do die, it dies with us. We’ve been very careful to quarantine the information. Only a few key people understand how it works.” He reached into his pocket, and pulled out a small spherical cube box with a single button. It almost resembled a detonator. He handed it to Hokusai.

“Conceptual understanding of dimensional gravity was copied and sequestered on eight neural implants. Every time we want to do something with the knowledge, those in the know have to access the data using the implant. Practical application runs directly from this chip, and into our hands. Incoming data runs directly back to the implant, and we no longer share information. I, for instance, don’t actually know how gravity clothes work. Nor does anyone else, except for Dr. Petrić.”

“What is this?” Hokusai asked, indicating the sphube.

“The implants are airgapped, and they come with a single vulnerability,” Osiris went on. “A radio signal sourced from this box will disable the implants almost instantaneously. Now you’re the one in control of it. If you decide to erase everyone’s access, that’s what will happen.”

Hokusai looked down at her doomsday device. “Will it hurt?”

“I don’t think so,” Osiris answered. “Even if it does, the pain will be minimal, and temporary.”

She now half-frowned at the device. “Okay.” And with that, she pressed the button. A squeal escaped from it, and made its way through the air beyond them.

Osiris pressed his fingers against the top right side of his head. It didn’t look extremely painful, but more like he had accidentally bumped it against the edge of the coffee table after retrieving his contacts from underneath. Tiny massive weights hooked themselves to his eyelids, and he only barely fought against them. He quickly succumbed to the fatigue, and collapsed to the floor.

“Was that supposed to happen?” Loa asked.

“It’s not what he said.” Pribadium knelt down, and checked his pulse. “He’s still alive, just sleeping.”

“I don’t feel bad,” Hokusai said. “He gave me the button.”

“No one’s blaming you,” Loa assured her.

Pribadium walked a few meters down the hallway to the emergency box. There were two buttons. One was for urgent need, and the other simply connected with dispatch. She pressed the latter.

“Can I help you?”

“We need assistance transporting an unconscious man to the nearest medical facility.”

“A carrier is being sent to your location. It has been programmed to transport him to where the others are being taken. Please follow behind for routine questioning.”

A couple minutes later, a hover gurney appeared, and wedged itself under Osiris’ right side. Hokusai and Pribadium worked to drag him onto it, so it could take him to the infirmary. An investigator was waiting for them. Five unconscious people were already there. The other two were hopefully on their way, so they too could be treated. The investigator was taking someone else’s statement, and adding notes to a computer system that had been grafted onto the skin on his forearm.

“This is what did it.” Hokusai handed him the detonator sphube.

“What is it?” he asked her.

Hokusai felt no need to hide the truth. “You should find neural chips in each of their brains. These chips contained very sensitive information. The box was engineered as a failsafe, to prevent this information from leaking.”

The investigator nodded. “The gravity data. Yes, I know of it. Why was it activated?”

“He placed me in control of it, and I decided to use it.”

“Forgive me,” he said, “but we’ll have to wait until we revive them to determine whether you’re telling the truth.”

“Of course.”

“I’m sure they are.” The scientist who was observing the gravity children before stepped into the room. The seventh hover gurney followed her through, and took its place next to the others.

“How are you awake?” Hokusai asked, almost accusingly.

“That’s what we need to discuss,” the scientist replied. She faced the investigator. “You may go now. I’m invoking scientific immunity for everyone involved.”

The investigator switched off his arm interface. “Very well.”

“I’ll take that,” the scientist said before he could leave. Then she snatched the box out of his hand.

A robot surgeon removed itself from the wall, and began to perform brain surgery on the patients, starting with Osiris.

“My name is Katica Petrić. I was responsible for human gravitational adaptation, and there’s a secret I never told anyone; not even Osiris.”

Hokusai figured she understood. “You’re immune to the button.”

“Not exactly. I mean, no more or less than anyone else who didn’t have a gravity chip in their brain. Eleven years ago, my colleague was experimenting with dimensional energy. He was taking his job beyond his mandate, and because of it, something went wrong. I had to go down and release the energy before it blew another crater into the planet. Obviously I survived, but the incident had a side effect. The chip—for a reason I don’t know, because I’m not a neurologist—released all of its data into my mind, and then it melted. I was under the knife for hours while a surgical robot cleaned the chip out of my gray matter. It could do nothing for my memory, however. That button won’t work on me, because I possess knowledge of dimensional gravity that can’t be erased without seriously damaging my mind. I’m more like you now.”

Hokusai nodded. “No technology is foolproof.”

“Are you going to kill me?” Katica asked.

“Of course not.” Loa was more insulted than her wife. “We used the button as it was intended, for people who we presume consented to the eventuality. We don’t kill, and if your team hadn’t thought of the chips in the first place, then we just would have trusted that you wouldn’t do anything wrong with the knowledge.”

“You obviously didn’t want anyone using this knowledge anymore, though,” Katica began, “so I agree to retire.”

Pribadium had been searching her own memory archives since the first time she heard the name. “You’re a Petrić, as in the Kansas City Petrićs?”

“Yes,” Katica confirmed. “Third generation.”

“Thor told me about you,” Pribadium said. “I mean, he told us about your family, and the other three Croatian families. You’re kind of the unsung heroes of Kansas-Missouri history.”

She laughed. “I dunno, they sing songs about the Matics, and Bozhena.”

“But no one else,” Pribadium argued lightly. “That’s not my point, though. From what I gather, your family, in particular, has always been fully aware of salmon and choosers.”

Katica knew she had been found out. “Every Petrić is born without the ability to move backwards in time, but we’ve all been protectors in our own human ways. I’ve been deeply invested in what happens to salmon since we found out what my adoptive brother and sister were.”

“Who were your brother and sister?” Hokusai asked.

“Mario and Daria,” Katica answered. “The Kingmaker, and The Savior of Earth from 1981 to 2034.”

“You don’t just protect salmon,” Pribadium pointed out. “You’ve been protecting the vonearthans from them. You got yourself onto this team to prevent it from growing out of control.”

Katica turned to watch the surgeon continue removing the neural implants from her colleagues. “I do what I have to.”

“Your story was a lie,” Hokusai accused. “There was no energy generation accident. You removed the chip, and kept the knowledge for yourself.”

“Oh, no, there was a definite energy crisis, and I did have to stop it,” Katica contended. “I also just happened to be the person who started it. If I didn’t do something to prevent them from learning too much, Beaver Haven Pen would have imprisoned them all.” She dragged her knuckles against her upper teeth, presumably as a nervous tick. “I modified the killswitch for the same reason.”

“Are you telling me this is a real killswitch?” Hokusai was horrified.

“No, sorry, that’s not what I meant. It’s just...”

“What?” Loa prodded.

“The chips didn’t work. No one else knew, but there was no way of sequestering the information. The longer the data was in their heads, and the more they used this data to invent things, the more their brains absorbed. Mine did it faster, because I already had some preexisting knowledge, but it would have happened to them eventually, and I can’t be sure they would have all been as noble as Osiris was about it.”

“What did you do?” Hokusai pressed.

“I didn’t just modify the button,” Katica started to say. “I had to alter the chips themselves. I turned them into gateways to the brains. When you pushed that button, it did exactly as you wanted, but because the chips were no longer the only issues, the memory wipe had to be more...comprehensive.”

Just then after a few minutes of recovery, Osiris started to reawaken.

Ever the mothering type, Loa glided over, and placed her hand on his shoulder. “Are you feeling okay?”

“I think so,” he replied. “I do have two questions, though. Who are you? And who am I?”

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Microstory 1390: Growth

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Fiore Stern: Hello? Mr. Botany Professor?

Botany Professor: Yes, that’s me. Office hours begin in a half hour, but I think I can make an exception. Are you struggling with the cambium assignment? I can give you an extra day, if you need it.

Fiore Stern: No, sir. I’m actually not a student yet. I was hoping to interview you, so you can help me get accepted into the program.

Botany Professor: Well, Botany is part of a liberal arts and sciences degree. All you have to do is get into the school, and you can choose Botany as your major—if you’re really sure this is what you want to study, that is.

Fiore Stern: You don’t think you could give me an edge? Maybe write me a letter of recommendation?

Botany Professor: Not really. This is Hillside University. They let pretty much anyone in who’s graduated from high school. The failout rate is lower with that method than you might think, because our professors are really invested in student success. Once you’re accepted, and start classes, you can join the program, and I can become your advisor. But I doubt you’ll need help being accepted.

Fiore Stern: Well, the truth is, I’m a...I’m a felon. I got out of prison a few months ago, and I’m trying to get my life on track.

Botany Professor: I see.

Fiore Stern: I don’t even know if the college will accept me with all that.

Botany Professor: I believe this institution does have a way of doing that. You have to acknowledge it on your application, but then they’ll have you meet with some special advisor. That has nothing to do with me, though, so I’m not completely clear how it works.

Fiore Stern: Can I still ask you a few questions?

Botany Professor: Yeah, that should be fine. Students probably will start coming in fifteen minutes from now, though.

Fiore Stern: Okay. So. How would you define botany?

Botany Professor: Botany is the study of plants, and pretty much everything that goes with that. It’s about how they convert energy, and grow, and support the environment.

Fiore Stern: What is the difference between a plant, and a flower?

Botany Professor: Well, a flower is just one part of a plant. Not all plants have flowers, because they have different ways of reproducing and spreading, other than sexually.

Fiore Stern: I have heard that. Plants have sex?

Botany Professor: Flowering plants reproduce sexually, yes. The male will transfer its gametes to the female. We call that pollination. It’s not quite the same as the way animals do it, though.

Fiore Stern: Interesting. Do you teach plant toxicity? Will you teach your students to tell the difference between a poisonous plant, and one that’s safe to eat?

Botany Professor: That sort of specificity isn’t what we do in the undergraduate department. Poisonous plants do not all share a single trait you would be able to use to determine if it fits into the category. You just kind of have to know what’s good, and what to stay away from. As far as edibility goes, there’s something called the universal edibility test. It involves a long process of slowly interacting with the fruits, roots, or leaves, to find out whether it’s safe to eat. It takes a really long time, and we don’t teach that here, because we don’t expect our students to find themselves in a survival situation where such knowledge means life or death. It’s a liability issue too. I’m not even allowed to tell you how to learn about the test.

Fiore Stern: Well, let’s say someone does die, because they ate the wrong thing. If a decomposing body helps fertilize the soil, in the circle of life, will plants and flowers grow out of the dead body?

Botany Professor: Um. Well, no. A dead body is not an ideal environment for growth. Sure, a lot of nitrogen will be released into the soil, which may support any life growing around it, but the body itself doesn’t just isn’t fit for that. Why?

Fiore Stern: No reason. Thanks for talking to me. It’s been really helpful.

Botany Professor: Yeah...okay.

Microstory 1389: Flowers

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Nature Surveyor: Good afternoon, sir! I was hoping you could answer a few questions about nature, and the environment.

Fiore Stern: Are you trying to get me to save the whales, or something?

Nature Surveyor: No, agenda here, sir. We just wanna know how you feel about the arboretum, and whether you think there’s anything we should change.

Fiore Stern: Well, I think you could do with a few more flowers.

Nature Surveyor: Okay, so we were considering expanding to become partly a botanical garden as well. Are there any examples you know? Like, is there a botanical garden you’re particularly fond of?

Fiore Stern: I don’t understand why you can’t just plant more flowers. You don’t have to change the name.

Nature Surveyor: Well, we do have some flowers, and there’s nothing wrong with that, but an arboretum will focus more on the trees. It’s less open, and you can kind of get lost in it. With a garden, you’ll be able to see a lot more from any one vantage point. So there is a difference, but I’m not rejecting your idea. 

Fiore Stern: Okay.

Nature Surveyor: We were also considering building a second arboretum on the other side of town, but a land developer is also lobbying for that acreage. Would you rather have something like this—or, I suppose, something with more flowers—or a high-tech intentional community that doesn’t allow cars?

Fiore Stern: It doesn’t allow cars? How the hell do people get around?

Nature Surveyor: The developer is hoping to build a robust public transport system, and keep the buildings close to each other, and more vertical, so they take up less land.

Fiore Stern: Weird. So, I guess you do have an agenda.

Nature Surveyor: Both projects are designed to enrich the community, and support the environment. We’re not fighting against them so much as both sides are trying to figure out which development the people would prefer.

Fiore Stern: Well, like I said, I want more flowers.

Nature Surveyor: Yes, I understand that. I’ll write that again over here, to reiterate that you would want less of an arboretum, and more of a botanical garden.

Fiore Stern: Okay, good.

Nature Surveyor: So, this question isn’t on my list, but why is it you like flowers so much? Do you have fond memories of planting with your mother, or something?

Fiore Stern: Not really. When I was a kid, our neighbor planted toxic flowers, and then covered them with this meat paste so our dog wouldn’t be able to resist eating them. It was retaliation for him eating all her good plants.

Nature Surveyor: Oh, dear. Was the dog okay?

Fiore Stern: Nope. I’m the one who found the body. It was the most interesting thing I had ever seen. Of course, I was only a few years old at the time, so pretty much anything fascinated me. I started learning about flowers after that day, though, so I guess it was particularly important.

Nature Surveyor: Oh, my. You wanted to be able to make sure something like that never happened again?

Fiore Stern: No, why would I do that? I don’t eat flowers.

Nature Surveyor: Right, but...okay. Well, that’s all I have for you, so I better get going.

Fiore Stern: I’ve learned a lot since then.

Nature Surveyor: I’m sure you have. I need to go find more people to interview.

Fiore Stern: If you’re hiring, I could use a job. I know a lot about plants, which ones are poisonous, and which ones are fine. The reason I’m in the area is because I’m hoping to go to college here next year. I know I look old, but I was held back one year, and then I took a gap year, and then I was arrested...

Nature Surveyor: Oh, that’s interesting. You can ask for an application at the front office. I gotta go. Bye.

Fiore Stern: (Bitch.)

Microstory 1388: Bullies

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School Counselor: Middle Schooler 1, do you have any idea why you two were brought in to see me today?

Middle Schooler 1: Because he’s bullying me.

School Counselor: No, because you’re bullying him.

Middle Schooler 1: He started it!

Middle Schooler 2: No, I didn’t!

School Counselor: What did Middle Schooler 2 do to you, Middle Schooler 1?

Middle Schooler 1: He stabbed me with a candy cane.

School Counselor: He what?

Middle Schooler 2: Oh, it wasn’t that big of a deal.

Middle Schooler 1: He sucked on it until one end was sharp, and then he stabbed me in the arm.

School Counselor: Is this true, Middle Schooler 2?

Middle Schooler 2: Wull...I guess.

School Counselor: Middle Schooler 1, why didn’t you report him to the principal?

Middle Schooler 1: Because I’m not a whiny little baby like him!

School Counselor: Now, you know we don’t call people names at this institution.

Middle Schooler 1: Whatever.

School Counselor: Did he break the skin? Do you need to go to the nurse?

Middle Schooler 1: No, I’m fine. But that doesn’t mean it’s okay.

School Counselor: Of course it’s not. Middle Schooler 2? You know what you have to do.

Middle Schooler 2: I’m sorry, Middle Schooler 1. Ugh.

School Counselor: That didn’t sound like a very sincere apology.

Middle Schooler 2: Well, he hasn’t apologized to me either!

School Counselor: That’s true. Why don’t you two apologize to each other at the exact same time. Okay? One...two...three.

Middle Schooler 1 and Middle Schooler 2: I’m sorry.

School Counselor: That was very good. Now. Let’s talk about why you two are so upset with each other.

Middle Schooler 2: He cheated off me on our homework. I know I shouldn’t have stabbed him, but it was annoying.

Middle Schooler 1: I wasn’t cheating. We were doing homework together.

Middle Schooler 2: Yes, but you weren’t supposed to just copy what I wrote. You were supposed to come up with the answers yourself.

Middle Schooler 1: No, we were working together.

Middle Schooler 2: You said you wanted to work together, but then you just had me do it myself, and copy it later. I didn’t even realize I did all the work until it was all finished. You tricked me.

Middle Schooler 1: I didn’t trick you. You’re smarter, so you finished it faster.

Middle Schooler 2: Don’t try to say nice things to me to get out of being in trouble. He’s still in trouble, right?

School Counselor: Neither of you is in trouble. You’re here to work this out, and I think you two are doing a pretty good job on your own, so I’m going to sit here with a game of sudoku, and let you keep going. I don’t want you to stop talking until you’re friends again, okay?

Middle Schooler 1 and Middle Schooler 2: Okay.

Microstory 1387: The Medium Psych Zone

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Law Enforcement Officer: Hello, can I help you?

Supposed Psychic: Actually, it is I who can help you.

Law Enforcement Officer: Do you have a crime to report?

Supposed Psychic: Not exactly, but if you provide me with a little information, I’m sure I can come up with something.

Law Enforcement Officer: I’m sorry?

Supposed Psychic: Oh, forgive me. My name is Supposed Psychic, and I am a psychic.

Law Enforcement Officer: You’re a psychic?

Supposed Psychic: That’s right. Now, I’m sure you don’t believe in people like me—

Law Enforcement Officer: No, it’s not that. I believe there is more to this world than science can explain, but you’re going to have to prove to me that you’re someone who can tap into these truths. I can’t just take your word for it, and hand you off to the detectives. They would laugh me out of the station. So you’re going to have to prove it somehow.

Supposed Psychic: I can most certainly do that.

Law Enforcement Officer: Go ahead.

Supposed Psychic: I can’t just do it on command. I would need to shadow you for some time, and pick up on energies. Visions don’t come to me automagically. Something I see or hear has to trigger it.

Law Enforcement Officer: You want me to show you confidential police files?

Supposed Psychic: Only if you want to solve them.

Law Enforcement Officer: Okay. You can sit in here for a few minutes. I have to find the right file; one that can do no harm in your hands.

Supposed Psychic: Okay.

Law Enforcement Officer: [...] All right. Here we go. This should be fairly harmless. Here we have a picture of a tow truck driver who has been stealing cars all over the suburbs. His truck doesn’t have any markings, and this is the best photo of him, so we don’t know much. If you can tell us who he is and/or where to find him, I’ll consider telling my superiors about your abilities.

Supposed Psychic: Hmm.

Law Enforcement Officer: Do you need—

Supposed Psychic: Shh.

Law Enforcement Officer: Okay.

Supposed Psychic: [...] This is a fake. The man’s name is Tow Truck Driver Jr. Your car broke down four days ago, and he’s the guy who showed up when you called for help. You were charged seventeen dollars on a bill you believe the roadside assistance company you used should have covered in total. You were pleasantly surprised that your engine needed more work anyway, and it could have been much worse if you hadn’t needed service that day.

Law Enforcement Officer: Anything else?

Supposed Psychic: No, that’s about it. Do I have the job?

Law Enforcement Officer: You absolutely do not.

Supposed Psychic: What are you talking about? I gave you a good reading. Just because it wasn’t a case, doesn’t mean I didn’t prove myself.

Law Enforcement Officer: I posted all that information on social media. I don’t remember what the driver’s name was, so who knows where you’re getting that? I saw you standing in the lobby, pretending to be looking at the public bulletin board, but really you were just waiting for me to walk by, because I was your mark all along. I don’t know what you’re really after, but you’re not getting a look at our cases.

Microstory 1386: Marriage Counseling

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Marriage Counselor: Welcome, you both, to marriage counseling. Before we begin, it’s important that you understand that this is a safe space. There will be no judgments here; not from me, and not from either of you. This is not just a guideline, but a rule, and I will be enforcing it strictly.

Husband: I understand, and agree to your terms.

Wife: As do I.

Marriage Counselor: So, what seems to be the problem?

Wife: I cheated on him, and he doesn’t care.

Marriage Counselor: Is that true, Mr. Husband?

Husband: I suppose it is, yes. I would love to say that I simply didn’t react the way she would have wanted, but I see where she’s coming from, and I honestly can’t explain it.

Marriage Counselor: Walk me through it. What happened, and how did Husband react? Mrs. Wife, you go first.

Wife: I’ve been feeling a little neglected, and spending a lot of time on my own. I didn’t go out seeking a second partner, but I often found myself at the rec center, even when I didn’t have a fitness class to get to. I met this woman there who’s kind of going through the same thing with her girlfriend. At first, we were just talking, but then things escalated. It just so happened that Husband walked in on us during the one time it went too far.

Marriage Counselor: Let’s switch perspectives before you proceed. What were you doing that led up to this, Mr. Husband?

Husband: I’ve been pretty busy at work, but that’s not the whole story. I could get it all done on time, but I’ve slowly lost the motivation to do so. The work is overwhelming, and it’s also total nonsense. I used to get really frustrated about it, but now I’m just indifferent. It’s not like the work slows down just because I don’t do it with so much haste, so it builds up even more, and I end up having to stay late just to catch up. One day, I finally just said screw it, and left for home at the time I’m supposed to. Like she said, I walked in on her.

Marriage Counselor: How did you react?

Husband: I barely did at all. My first instinct was that I was pissed; not that I was actually anger, but that I ought to be. As I stood there, looking at them in our marital bed, though, I realized it didn’t bother me. I felt like, if that’s what she wants, she should have it, because I obviously can’t provide for her.

Marriage Counselor: Did it excite you, or just not bother you?

Husband: I felt nothing. I feel nothing. I’m completely numb. I don’t feel joy or jealousy anymore, or anything else, for that matter. I don’t know why, and I don’t want to be like this. I wish I had gotten angry at her, because then we could have worked through it. But she’s just sitting here in this marriage, and neither of us is happy, but she’s the only one who’s trying anymore. I think I might have become a sociopath.

Wife: I don’t think that.

Marriage Counselor: Me neither. You would not have become a sociopath, Mr. Husband. It’s something you’re born with, or possibly develop at a very early age. And even if you hadn’t realized what you were until now, just from my first impression of you, I doubt it would be a good diagnosis. You obviously still care about her, if only in a lesser sense than you used to. Sociopaths aren’t capable of even that. You seem to be having trouble manifesting emotions, but I don’t think they’re not there at all. Are you taking any medication?

Wife: He’s not taking anything.

Marriage Counselor: Well, he’s mimicking some of the symptoms of certain antidepressants, so if it’s not that, then there’s some other imbalance in the brain. Mr. Husband, you mentioned your work. I believe that may be at the heart of what’s causing all this. Let’s dive deeper into that.

Husband: Okay.

The Advancement of Mateo Matic: Tuesday, April 1, 2025

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Declan was going to be vital to their survival in a world with no people, and therefore no civilization. None of the others knew how to build a shelter, or even start a fire without any tools. Darko Matic was evidently Declan’s trainer for years, and while their primary focus was the martial arts, they also developed a well-rounded education, including survival skills. He struck a fire with wood and rocks, no problem, and instructed them how to build sufficient single-person shelters for themselves. Still, once camp was complete, there was no competition when it came to whose shelter was superior. Being told how to do it ad hoc, and having the experience to build it right, were two different things. They were good enough to keep the elements out, however, and they all reportedly slept pretty well that night. It was April 1, 2025 when they woke up, according to the Cassidy cuffs.

“Anybody else have a countdown,” Mateo asked as he was watching his screen, “as well as what I can only guess to be a tracking beacon?”

“Yeah,” Leona said. “Jupiter said we would have us complete tasks for him, rescuing people from this reality. The beacon must be leading us to our first challenge.”

Ramses stretched, and rubbed his eyes like a cliché. “I would say getting through yesterday was the first challenge.”

“He didn’t want this world to be as it is,” Declan reminded him. “He wants people to rule over, and I don’t think he has it here.”

“If he wants to rule,” Mateo began to reason, “and he has the ability to travel between each reality at will, why wouldn’t he just take a bunch of people, instead of one or two at a time, which I presume is how the challenges are going to work?”

“His abilities are surely limited,” Leona presumed. “He’s probably traveling through time, looking for a workaround.”

“Don’t give him any ideas anyway,” J.B. warned.

Leona was working on her cuff screen. “Okay, so without satellites, it’s hard to tell how long it’s going to take us to get to our challenge, but based on the countdown, and the distance, I imagine we have about an hour and a half to eat before we have to head out.”

“Eat what?” Ramses questioned.

Declan lifted his teleporter cuff. “You leave that to me.”

He returned twenty minutes later with a shirt full of fruits and roots, plus a dead rabbit over his shoulder. Predicting this would be the result of his efforts, Leona had built a spit over the fire. An hour later, with full bellies, they started walking towards the beacon. There were a lot of obstacles in the way, namely trees, but there was also a deep ravine they had to walk around. Being the man they were learning he was, Declan estimated that they walked a little under five kilometers to their destination. When they arrived, eleven minutes were left on the countdown, so they sat down for a rest.

Before the timer reached zero, things around them started to change. Streets and buildings flickered in and out around them. Leona recognized it after a few times. “This is Country Club Plaza.”

“That checks out,” Declan confirmed. “It’s about as far from Mission Hills as it should be, in the direction it should be, based on our walk.”

“Guys,” Ramses said, holding his arm up like he was trying to block the sunlight. “These devices are AR. There’s someone up there, right under the beacon marker.”

The rest of them lifted their arms to see what he was. Sometimes a building would appear in a flicker, blocking their view, and sometimes just the person standing on top of it was visible.

“She’s gonna fall!” J.B. cried.

“I can get her,” Declan said, fingers hoving over his teleporter cuff.

“What are you waiting for?” Mateo asked desperately.

“She’s not really here yet,” Declan replied. “I have to time it just right. Count me down, Lee.”

Leona waited a moment before beginning. “Six, five, four, three, two, one!”

Declan pressed the button. The flickering stopped, and the figure standing in the middle of the air began to fall downwards. He caught her before she got too far, and they both started to fall together. Before they hit the ground, they disappeared again, and reappeared a few meters away, but upside down, so momentum was propelling them upwards. Once they were at equilibrium, Declan teleported them once more, safely to the ground.

The woman turned around to get her bearings, and catch her breath. Both Mateo and Leona recognized her immediately, of course, and simultaneously said, “mom?” It was Carol Gelen, and this was the day she was fated to start her ten day walk towards death.

“Leona!” Carol said inquisitively, but not as if it had been long since they had seen each other. “Where are we?”

Leona waited to respond. It was a little too late—and there was no reasonable way—to cover this up. She just didn’t know exactly what to say at first. “Mom. I’m a time traveler, and we’re standing in an alternate reality. We’re not sure what changed, or when it changed, but there don’t seem to be other people here.”

Carol studied her daughter’s face for a moment and a half. “Okay.”

“Okay?” Leona questioned. “That’s it?”

“I trust you, Leona. If you say this is another world, then okay.”

“Aren’t you worried?”

“You seem to know what you’re doing. You look a little older; maybe a few years? I assume you’ve been doing this for awhile.”

Leona looked over to her husband, who was Carol’s son in yet another timeline. “You could say that.”

Carol smirked. “And who is this?”

“This is my husband, Mateo Matic.”

Carol lifted her hand, and shook that of her once-son’s. “It’s nice to meet you. I guess it really has been awhile.”

“Guys?” Ramses was looking at his Cassidy cuff again. “There’s another countdown. It says the window’s closing.”

“We have forty-two minutes to get her back to her own reality, before she’s stuck here,” Leona posited.

“How do we get her back?” J.B. asked. “Do the cuffs explain? I’m not super experienced with technology.”

“Yes,” Ramses confirmed. “I can see the steps we need to take to send her home. Just tap the right arrow.”

“Now, hold on,” Mateo said. “Who said we’re sending her back? Jupiter said we have a choice.”

“She can’t stay here,” J.B. argued lightly, looking around at the wilderness.

“She can’t go back either!” Leona fought back.

“Leona,” Carol scolded. “Relax.”

“You don’t understand, mom. It’s dangerous.”

“That’s no reason to forget your manners.”

Mateo looked at his once-mother sadly. She had no idea who he really was. Their situation was like something out of a comic book TV show. It was even worse than when he ran into them at the Pentagon in 2005, because now he was married to what the multiverse could theoretically consider to be his own adoptive sister. Time demanded that Carol Gelen be on that plaza rooftop in forty minutes, so that Paige Turner could unwillingly return from the future with a pathogen that will apparently only be deadly to the second individual infected by it. Mateo didn’t want that to happen, obviously, and neither did Leona. They didn’t even really have reason to believe Jupiter himself had any interest in her dying. Perhaps that was why he extracted her from the main timeline in the first place. They just need to figure out what to do about it. There was no question that they needed to save her life, but this world wasn’t much safer. She wouldn’t survive here alone. There had to be some kind of loophole. There had to be a way to get her back home without also sending her to an inevitable death.

“Do we wanna talk about this over here?” Ramses asked.

“No,” Carol disagreed. “Unless telling me about my future is going to destroy the universe, I wanna hear whatever it is you’re discussing.”

Leona looked at her sadly as well. She had no right to keep the truth from her, and she knew her mother well enough to know that when she said she wanted to understand, she meant it. “Have you met a young woman named Paige Turner?” she asked.

“No.”

“You didn’t see anyone in the parking lot up there?”

“I saw a few people,” Carol answered, “but I didn’t meet anybody.”

Leona consulted the countdown. “In less than an hour, time itself is expecting you to be back on that rooftop, presumably after you pick up your lunch from your favorite restaurant in this part of town?”

Carol checked her own watch. “That sounds about right. I’m a little early. I thought I would enjoy the day before pick-up.”

“Destiny says that a friend of ours is going to appear on that rooftop. She’ll be carrying with her a disease that a frenemy of ours forced her to bring back to this time period. The idea is to infect everyone now, so that when the disease shows up later, the population is already immune to it.”

“Okay, I guess I get that,” Carol said, “but how many people will have to die from it before herd immunity takes care of it?”

“Just one,” Leona replied, tearing up.

Carol lifted her head, absorbing the information that wasn’t being said. “Oh. But this will ultimately save lives?”

“Not really.” Leona fought back full tears. “It sterilizes people in the future, but they’re immortal by then anyway, so our species doesn’t actually die out; they just stop having biological children.”

“But if I don’t go back, the...immunity process doesn’t happen.”

“No, it still does,” Mateo jumped in. “Paige doesn’t have to infect you at all. You die, because you’re too close to her when she shows up. It’ll still spread on its own, and there will be zero deaths from it.”

“So, this Jupiter guy rescued me?” Carol guessed.

Everyone looked amongst each other. “We don’t really know,” Ramses chose to answer. “He brought you here, but his motivations aren’t a hundred percent clear. It could be a Sophie’s choice type of thing. We either choose to leave you alone in this world, which isn’t exactly full of supermarkets and houses, or send you back.”

“She doesn’t have to be alone.” Holly Blue was walking up to them. “My son and I will protect her.” As she drew nearer, she presented a device in her hand that kind of looked like an electric shaver, but instead of a regular blade on the top, it resembled the one specifically designed to cut nose hairs. She placed the tip against one of Declan’s Cassidy cuffs, and began to hack into it. “When the next window opens three years from now, we’ll slip back with whoever it is Jupiter brings in. All she needs to do is hop over her death moment.”

“Why don’t we save everybody?” Declan asked his mother.

“At least two people have to continue the pattern, so they can save everyone else,” Holly Blue explained. “J.B. has to be one of those people, and a Matic has to be another.” She continued working her hacking device. “There.” She pulled the trigger, which served to release both Declan’s cuffs at the same time. Unfortunately, there appeared to be some kind of failsafe. The cuffs fell from his wrist simultaneously, but before they hit the ground, they flew back up through the air, and secured themselves around Holly Blue’s wrists instead. “Also, there’s that.”

“Did you, or did you not, know that was going to happen?” Ramses asked. He took the hacking device from her, so he could examine it himself.

“I was worried he had programmed a contingency. Jupiter was a little not quite upset enough with me when he learned I was planning to rescue Declan. I should have known it was too easy.”

“Okay,” Declan said, “give it to me. I’ll put them back on myself, so you can be free.”

“No,” Holly Blue argued with her son. “I’m not letting you go back to this. You have too much potential to be wasting your time on this mission. No offense,” she said to everyone else.

None taken, really.

Declan looked sadly at his own mother, who could all but read his mind. She smiled back. “Someone has to protect Carol, and I wasn’t able to bring a lot of resources with me, so you’re far more equipped to handle that. It’s just three years, then you can both go back to the main timeline, and you can finally do what you’ve been wanting to all along.”

“Darko never said I was ready.”

“There’s no way he would say you’re not ready once this is all over,” Holly Blue assured him. “Let’s consider this your final lesson.”

Declan didn’t want to trap his mother on the Bearimy-Matic pattern, but this was the best of all terrible outcomes. Carol really did need someone to stay with her for the next three years, and he was the best for the job—not just out of everyone who happened to be here—but the best overall. The time window closed a half hour later, leaving everyone with no choice but to stay in their current predicaments. At the end of the day, Mateo, Leona, Ramses, J.B., and now Holly Blue jumped forward in time, leaving Declan and Carol to fend for themselves. They returned to a shelter complex impressive enough to drive Robinson Crusoe to tears. There was a third person with them who had been there for about a year, whose name was, for whatever reason, Hello Doctor.

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Varkas Reflex: Gravity (Part II)

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The three of them walked over to the Capitol building. Being such a vital contributor to the development of this planet, Hokusai enjoyed a special relationship with the Council leaders. That was two decades ago, however, so she couldn’t be sure the same people were still in charge. Much had changed since she was first growing up on Earth in the 20th and 21st centuries. It was a lot harder to stay in power if you weren’t very good at it. Civilians were no longer interested, for example, in electing a nation’s president for four whole years, with very little hope of recalling them, should something go wrong. This process started slowly, particularly in the United States. Checks and balances were first bolstered, so that the president and vice president were not elected in the same year, and were voted for separately. Then responsibilities changed, so that power was never consolidated into a single person. Experts in their fields were chosen to make decisions, rather than just anyone with enough money to run a campaign, and they were chosen by their peers, rather than just anyone who happened to live in the country.

Over the years, these changes grew more dramatic, until the world’s governments hardly resembled earlier ones at all. The colonies were especially different. They weren’t awarded their independence after protests and battles. There was no pushback in the first place. While Earth was completely in favor of maintaining healthy communication, and sharing of technology, colonists were expected to decide for themselves how they were going to run their own planets. If multiple factions rose up, and threatened each other, Earth would not intervene, except in situations that were manifestly unjust, or which threatened the entire stellar neighborhood. Fortunately, nothing like this had ever happened before, but many experts believed conflicts were inevitable, either internal, or interstellar. Hokuloa refused to believe that, though.

Anyway, Varkas Reflex was—not a party planet—but it was certainly hedonistic in nature. Advanced technologies, like universal synthesizers, and now this artificial gravity, made a happy life available to everyone. Hell, the whole reason this group of colonists agreed to live on a world with much higher surface gravity was because they were cool with just hanging out here, and not concerning themselves with anything else. They were here to enjoy themselves, because they believed that was the whole point of life, and was absolutely the point of a virtually immortal life. As such, not a lot of governing was happening on a regular basis. It was still necessary, and the people they chose to take care of this for them wouldn’t do it if they didn’t want to, but it was also very lax and casual. Hokuloa and Pribadium simply walked into the Capitol, and approached the head councilor’s office.

As they would expect, he was leaning back in his chair, feet propped up on his desk, and drooling down his cheek. Hokusai cleared her throat. “Sir?”

He woke with a start, and wiped off his face. It took him a moment to find his place in the real world. “Madam Gimura! Madam Nielsen, and Miss Delgado. What a lovely treat. I heard you ran off to Teagarden.”

Who told that lie? “We were indisposed, Councilor Dazzlemist.”

“Please. Call me Gangsta. We hate formality.” There was no such thing as a weird name anymore. You wanted to call your son Gangsta Dazzlemist, no one was gonna stop you, and it was fine.

Hokusai’s anger about the dimensional gravity thing was building inside of her, so she had to take a moment to continue speaking. Gangsta just waited patiently. He didn’t know that she was angry, but it wasn’t like he had something more important to do. She breathed out like a mother in labor, and went on, “could you explain how this world has changed since we’ve been gone? How is there more artificial gravity than I built?”

“Oh, yeah, I can explain that. They didn’t respect your wishes to keep it secret.”

“They? They who?”

“The Varkan scientists,” Gangsta started to explain. “They decided to break into your office two years after your disappearance.”

“And you didn’t stop them?”

“This is Hedonia,” Gangsta argued. “Nobody stops anybody from doing anything without proof that it would cause harm to others. I’m not a leader; that’s a misnomer. I’m a continuity supervisor. I make sure the fusion reactors stay on in the sentry stations, and the habitat tanks stay wet.”

“You’re still using habitat tanks?” Pribadium questioned. “But if you have artificial gravity...”

“Some people prefer to live in the water. That was the plan when they boarded the colony ships, and that’s how they want to stay. Even more are on your side, and don’t like that your technology was stolen, so they stay underwater too, out of solidarity, I guess.”

“I need to speak with these scientists,” Hokusai declared.

“Okay, cool,” Gangsta agreed. “Give me a minute.” He stared into space for a moment. A normal person might be confused, but it was clear he was communicating with someone using computer contact lenses on his eyeballs, which he controlled using his brainwaves. “He’ll be here in a few minutes. Would you like some cucumber water while you wait?”

A half hour later, a scientist arrived. One of the more frustrating aspects of living in the future was people’s perception of time. Everyone knows that one person in their group of friends who says ten minutes, and means an hour. They’re always late, for everything, and if you want them to be on time, you kind of have to fabricate a deadline for them that’s much earlier than what you really need. This became the normal way of doing things after humanity reached the longevity escape velocity. If it didn’t matter that it took a person literal years to move from one home to another, because it happened to be located on an exoplanet, then it certainly didn’t matter if they were twenty-five minutes late for a meeting. Of course, the majority of the population was fine with other people’s relaxed view of time, because they were all on the same page about it, and their own patience evolved with everyone else’s. They were late, but so were you probably, so whatever. This was a difficult culture for Hokusai and Loa to get used to, however, because both of them grew up in worlds where such irresponsibility was completely unacceptable, and undeniably rude.

“You stole my technology,” Hokusai accused.

“Yeah,” said the man. “But to be fair, I didn’t think you were ever coming back, so I wouldn’t get in trouble for it.” This poor morality was, fortunately, not a universal trait among modern vonearthans, but it wasn’t terribly uncommon either. Crime was at near zero, because if you wanted a table, for instance, you just had to ask for it, and never needed to steal, but this came with consequences. While taking whatever you wanted was no longer necessary, it also made it more difficult to truly own anything. If someone wanted your table, then they might think it was okay to just take it, and put the onus on you to ask for a new one, instead of them. A hedonistic place like Varkas Reflex made this even more common, because their concern was only ever the consequences of their actions, rather than the intrinsic ethical integrity of them.

Hokusai was going to need to do some mental gymnastics to argue with a person like this. She couldn’t rely on providing him with rational evidence against his position, because he didn’t respond well to reason. “Well, I’m back now, and you shouldn’t have thought that I wasn’t coming back, because I never told anyone that I wasn’t.”

“You’re right, I never heard that. It was a supposition, and I apologize.” Now, he was apologizing for what he had thought to be true, instead of how he acted because of it. That wasn’t good enough.

“You stole something from me, and if it had been my spaceship, or something, at least you could have given it back later. But what you stole was intellectual property, and that’s just about anyone is allowed to claim ownership over these days.” This was true. Again, the construction and supply of a new table was a trivial and minor inconvenience for the people who were in charge of making tables. Ideas and creations, on the other hand, always belonged to the person or group who came up with them, and even if they gave it away freely, they still had the right to credit. In this case, she hadn’t given the creations away, at least not in their entirety.

“Right again,” the scientist agreed, “but I had good reason, and I won’t apologize for it.”

“Explain,” Hokusai said simply.

“Why don’t you come with me? I would like to show you something. By the way, my name is Osiris Hadad, in case anyone wanted to know.”

“Oh.”

He led them across the dome, and into what was presumably his laboratory. Then he ushered them into a darkened room with a large viewing window. Another scientist was holding a tablet, and observing two children playing in the room on the other side of the glass. She didn’t pay them any mind, but focused on her notes. “These are my secondary children, Jada and Lysistrata.” A secondary child was the future-time equivalent of a godchild, or even a nonbiological niece or nephew. Should something happen to their parents, Osiris would step in to take care of them, and possessed the legal right to do so. For now, he did likely help raise them in whatever way he and the parents deemed was appropriate. The religious connotations died out years ago, and new terminology was formed to reflect that. He went on, “Jada gestated, and was born, on the colony ship that brought his parents here several years ago. His sister, however, is a dwarf, which I’m sure you can see, even at this young age. She was born on this heavyworld, and her parents decided to raise her here. Her doctors performed procedures in utero so she would be able to survive naturally this high gravity. It worked. She’s perfectly content walking around on the surface of this planet, with absolutely no further aid.

“Unfortunately, there was a side effect that the doctors didn’t predict. She can’t breathe the oxygen-rich water through her skin, like a normal human can. She can’t breathe this planet’s normal atmosphere either. For some reason, she can only live on land, under the domes. This means she didn’t meet her brother...until yesterday. I mean, not really. Obviously, they were able to communicate virtually, but they had never given each other hugs. He can’t stand this planet, and she can’t stand to be off this planet. Look at them now. My lead scientist designed the shoes and clothes they’re wearing. They use a compact form of the dimensional generators you built for us four decades ago, each set tailored to a different level of artificial gravity.”

A single tear escaped from Hokusai’s eye, and rolled down her cheek before it was killed by her hand, and its friends were destroyed before they could follow at all. Loa and Pribadium felt no such need to hide their emotions.

Osiris went on, “your invention is helping us promote this colony as the number one vacation spot in the stellar neighborhood. Even Thālith al Naʽāmāt Bida can’t compete with their alien animal surrogacy substrate program. We have a roller coaster that spans the entire equator, we’re working on an escape complex that takes up most of the south pole, and construction begins on a Westworld-esque immersion experience a few thousand kilometers from here. That’s not all you’re doing, though. You also helped these two children find each other, and who knows what else it could do? I know you’re worried we’re gonna use it for evil things. It’s true that, when you can manipulate gravity, you can create a weapon that quite literally crushes an enemy vessel. But scientists have been risking this for centuries, and every time they failed, it was because they had something that we don’t.”

“What is that?” Pribadium asked.

His facial expression suggested the answer was obvious. “Enemies.”

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