The Advancement of Mateo Matic: April 8, 2400 (The Conclusion)

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Mateo teleported himself to Lebanon, directly into the Constant, which he thought wouldn’t work because of the safeguards, but he entered just fine. He landed in the master sitting room, which was where they always hung out in the version of this place in the Third Rail. It has been completely cleared out. All of the books were gone, as well as the furniture, and the snack bowls. Even the bookshelves have been removed. It looked like a room in a house that the previous owners were trying to sell after they had moved out. Maybe Danica was just trying to do some renovations. He stepped out and walked down to the security room. The door was wide open, and it too had been stripped. He looked farther down the hallway to see the rest of the doors open too, including ones that he had never been allowed to enter before. What the actual hell was going on here?

He kept walking through the complex, searching for any sign of life, but everything was gone. Only the walls remained, held up by the floors, and holding up the ceilings. It was completely bare. What. The. Hell? He called Danica’s name, but no one responded. “Constance?” he questioned nervously, but she didn’t answer either, which was a good thing, because this version of the superintelligence was evil. Maybe she had done something to Danica. They had always been told that his cousin was immortal, but in every story about someone who could not die, there was always a loophole, and if anyone had the smarts to find it, it was a Constance. “Danica?” he called again, but still nothing. Finally he found something. It was the garden, and so far, the only place with anything still in it. This particular area was untouched, looking just as it did before. He stepped in, and walked down the windy path a little. He rounded the bend just in time to see Zeferino Preston and Dalton Hawk disappear. “Danica!” he shouted one last time.

“Matty?” Danica asked. “When did you get here?”

“About fifteen minutes ago,” he answered. “I’ve been looking for you. What did those two assholes want?”

“One wants a purpose,” Danica replied. “The other says he can give it to him.”

“Did Dalton seem like he had...um, become a villain already?”

“No. If that’s happened, I don’t think it’s happened to him yet.” She eyed the space where he was once standing. “Perhaps this is where it begins.”

“I don’t know,” Mateo said. “I think this would be before he sent us to the Third Rail, which he seemed to have done by accident, out of benevolence. “I just don’t know. Anyway, it’s inevitable, and it can’t be undone. We got through it. No one died...permanently.”

“You’re looking at me weird,” she pointed out.

“Did you know that there were other versions of you, in the parallel realities?”

“I suspected. I mean, that’s the point of the Constant, to begin so early on in the inception of the solar system that it can’t be undone without the kind of effort that would wipe out humanity before it could evolve anyway.”

“Did you know that...Constance was evil?”

Danica sighed. “Yeah, which is why I erased her thousands of years ago.”

“Well, it didn’t take, and the other Danicas did not make the same choice anyway. They all came after us, except for Constance!Three. She was pretty helpful.”

“I apologize for any trouble she, or the other Danicas, have caused you.”

“You can’t apologize for them. Four and a half billion years is a long time to become entirely different people.”

She nodded appreciatively.

“Are you shutting down? Is that why this place is empty?

“It’s over,” she explained. “Evidently, it was always going to end like this. The people who contracted me for this job never told me that there would be an endgame, and I didn’t give it much thought. I only had real work for the last few millennia.”

“So you know about the Reconvergence too?”

“No. Maybe I knew it before, but everything’s been taken from me, including my immortality, and what knowledge I possessed about the timelines.”

Mateo frowned. “I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, well, like you said, four and a half billion years. I wasn’t awake that whole time, but who can complain about getting that much time? I accept my fate.”

Mateo shook his head. “Who’s making you do this? You said you deleted Constance? I thought she was your boss.”

Danica looked up to search for the right words. “She was more of a consultant. Management selected her to keep me on track, and give me advice, as well as keep this facility running, but she couldn’t actually tell me what to do. If the other versions of her made you believe that they were in charge, they were lying.”

“So who is your boss?”

“I am; the first me. Danica!Prime. That’s what I decided to call her, at least. She’s even older than me, especially now. That’s why she chose me as The Concierge, because she figured she could always trust herself to do it right.”

“Wow. I had no idea.”

“Yeah, and now it’s over. You better go. I have to press the big black button.”

“Wait, I came here to ask you for guidance. But...you don’t even know about the Reconvergence, so maybe...”

“So maybe I can’t help you,” she finished for him. “Sorry that the last time we saw each other was so unsatisfactory.”

“No, you don’t have to—why are you acting like you have to die? Press the button, and I’ll teleport us out of here.”

She shook her head. “I told you, I accept my fate. Go on and get out of here.” She held out Dalton’s Cassano Cane. “Take this with you, would ya?”

“Dalton uses this in the future,” Mateo said without taking it yet. “I don’t know how to get it back to him.”

“I’m sure the time gods will show you the way.”

Mateo frowned again, or still, really, and accepted the burden.

“Now, go on. I started this alone, I’ll end it alone.”

“There but for the grace of God went you...in the other parallels.”

She smiled at this. “I love you, Mateo.”

“I love you, Danica.” He teleported out, and landed in the chapel on the surface. It was funny, after all this time—the gradual phasing out of the world’s religions, including Christianity—the bulldozing of all the tiny little buildings to replace them with megastructure arcologies, that this tiniest building of all should survive this long. This year really was The Edge, wasn’t it?”

He stepped out into the bright sun, and smiled softly. He was sad that his cousin was maybe dying, but she was right, it was certainly less sad than a child, or even a centuries old transhuman. She had lived so much longer than most. It was poetic, really, that she should not see the Reconvergence. “Hey. Who are you?”

A couple was standing by the picnic tables under the little shelter next to the table. “We’re just tourists. We’re sorry to bother you.”

“No. This place is dangerous right now. Have you seen anyone else?”

“What’s the matter?”

“Have you seen anyone else?” Mateo repeated.

One of them pointed. “There are a bunch of people in that field. I think they’re birdwatching. We’re not with them.”

Mateo pointed too. “Get in your car, and go now. Leave all of your belongings, and just go. Now. There could be a bomb.”

They ran for their vehicle while Mateo walked around the chapel. They were right, a ton of people were wandering around a football pitch’s length away from him. He might not have time to teleport them all away, not if what was going to happen when Danica pressed that button was what he thought would happen. The chapel was the secret entrance to the Constance. The rest of it was, of course, completely underground, but not spread out all around them. The elevator was on one side of the building, and the birdwatchers were right over the bulk of it. If they came this way, and managed to cross the road, they might be okay, but they had to come now.

“Bomb!” he yelled as he ran towards them. “There’s a bomb! Get across the road!”

“Huh? What?” They were asking, confused, and not used to living in such danger. Every structure these days came equipped with bomb detection systems, Mateo assumed. The average person in the 25th century was not under constant threat of such explosive risk. People in his time were usually not too worried about it either, unless they lived in a war zone, but that threat was always looming. These people were completely unafraid, and could probably not so much as fathom what he was even trying to tell them. They just stood there watching him as he drew nearer.

“Bomb! Come this way! Now!”

It was too late. It was far too late. The ground beneath them all blinked out of existence, leaving them a kilometer in the air, and starting to plummet to their deaths. Giant pipes were filling the crater up with water, but it wasn’t full yet. He would not have time to teleport more than a few of them out. Some of them may have been androids, or were beaming their consciousnesses to a satellite in orbit. Maybe all of them were, or maybe none of them were. They were all screaming. He had to use the only tool he had with him if they were to survive, which was this magical reality-hopping cane in his hands. He didn’t know how to use it, but if there was ever a moment to learn on the fly, this was it. He pointed towards the smattering of people, and just thought about what he wanted. A beam of light shot out of it, and overcame a good chunk of the people. They disappeared, hopefully to another reality...a safer one. He swept it rightwards, picking up more and more until they were all gone. He looked around, still falling, hoping that there weren’t any stragglers, and he didn’t see any.

Just before he hit the shallow water alone, he teleported himself a few meters away, but upside down. He learned this trick in the Parallel once. His momentum was now carrying him upwards, and slowing him down gradually, instead of all at once in a momentous splat. For a second, he was at an equilibrium, and that was when he took the opportunity to teleport again, this time to the surface next to the newly forming lake. He finally exhaled, and huffed to catch his breath.

The only couple he was able to warn in time was still there on the side of the road. “Our car wouldn’t start. It’s an antique. We were trying to live as the ancients did.”

“It’s okay. This is the edge. The danger is over.”

“What could have done this? Is that filling with water?”

Mateo nodded. “This, my new friends, is Danica Lake.” He was there when it happened in the Third Rail. It was what triggered his mind to erase the memories that could have explained it. It would seem that the creation of Danica Lake was always the plan, and not just something the other Danica came up with.

“What happened to the others? Did they all die? How deep is it?”

Mateo stood up straight and adjusted his clothes. “Did you see the message in the stars last night?”

“Yeah. Everyone did.”

“What did it say?”

“DON’T PANIC.”

Mateo nodded. “Exactly. They’re fine.” He winked, and teleported away.

“You made it!” Angela noted.

“Did you make a choice? Did Danica help you?” Marie asked.

“She couldn’t. She’s never heard of this and now, she’s...gone.”

The girls both winced, and didn’t say anything.

“You knew I would come here, though,” Mateo said, looking around at Stonehenge. “You knew I wouldn’t just bail.”

“Of course we did. We know you.”

“But we don’t know what choice you’ve made,” Alyssa said, coming into view from behind one of the stone sarsens. “So what will it be? Which reality are you saving?”

Mateo drove the Dilara Cane into the dirt so it could stand on its own. He did it for effect, and effect alone. “The main sequence; leave it here.”

“Don’t tell me,” Alyssa responded. “Tell it to this.” She reached behind her back, and produced the Omega Gyroscope. She wasn’t holding it in her hand, though. It floated above, active and glowing.

“How do I have that power?” he questioned. “Why would it listen to me?”

“Because you’re the current owner of that.” She pointed at the cane.

Mateo looked down at it. “This? I just got this. It’s a coincidence, and I’m not keeping it.”

“You should know by now, Mateo,” Alyssa began. “There is no such thing as coincidence; not in our world. You don’t have to keep it. You just have to use it in this moment. Kyra and the other Keys are going to try to pull every inhabited world in this universe through a quantum array of portals. All you have to do is close the ones that are opening up in this reality.” She gently nudged the gyroscope towards him. It floated through the air, and settled itself over the Cassano Cane like it was home.

Mateo stared at them for a moment before looking up at Alyssa, and the Walton twins. Then he wrapped his hand around the cane, holding it there. Alyssa nodded at him, so he thrust the powerful objects towards the sky, and closed the portals.

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The Edge: The Eagle Has Landed (Part I)

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Leona closed the door behind her, and let the portal close along with it. She turned and reopened the door on this side to confirm as much. A part of her hoped that her husband and friends would be able to join in on this special occasion, but she was not surprised that they weren’t. There was a reason they called this group The Shortlist. It will presumably be even shorter now that Ramses was dead. Either that or they’ll pull him from earlier in the timeline, which seemed a little unlikely since there was not much the two of them didn’t tell each other prior to his death. He probably would have let it slip at some point. There never had to be eleven members, though. That was just how it worked out. Perhaps they will find someone worthy of replacing his seat, or maybe they won’t. She didn’t know who was organizing this whole thing. No one was really in charge, but Hokusai Gimura often found herself in a pretty strong leadership role.

They were here to discuss the future of the Milky Way Galaxy in the main sequence parallel reality. Most of the public had seen or learned by now that there was something else going on in the universe that they didn’t understand. A message appeared in the night sky that could not have formed using conventional technology. Light just does not move fast enough to join stars together like that in a brand new constellation. Plus, the stars that were used to display the message weren’t even on the same celestial plane, as they never were. There was just no logical explanation for the message. For now, no one had to come up with one yet, but the longer they put it off, the trouble it might cause. Someone has to answer for it, and the energy god who actually wrote the message wasn’t going to do it.

“The Eagle has landed,” Thor Thompson said into his watch as Leona passed.

“Hey. What are you doing here?” Leona asked. He was intelligent, and well-versed in the world of salmon and choosers, but he was not part of the Shortlist.

“I’m just here to watch.”

Pribadium Delgado glided up, and took Leona by the hand. “He’s been saying that to everyone. Everyone is The Eagle.”

“What does he mean that he’s here to watch?”

“Come. We’ll explain.”

As Pribadium was leading her down the corridor, they heard Thor repeat the phrase when Weaver walked in through her own portal, from wherever it was she was.

They turned into a room which might have been the observation deck of a space station. A large array of windows was showing them the star that they were orbiting. “Where are we?” Leona asked.

“Altair. The locals have agreed to host,” Pribadium answered.

Leona kept looking at the beautiful star for a moment before turning her head. “I’m not familiar. Not the star, I’ve heard of Altair. I just don’t know who lives here.”

Pribadium smiled. “The Altares, of course.”

Leona chuckled. “All right.”

“Follow me. This is their diplomacy station, which they call Diplomacht.” She continued through the corridor until they came into an open space. It was a huge expanse with simulated daylight, plantlife, including trees that would be the envy of the tallest redwood, and walking paths. And these paths were being walked on, but not by humans or other humanoid entities. They were animals. They were intelligent animals. Some were wearing clothes, some were carrying on conversations with each other. The majority of them were the great apes, like orangutans and chimps, but there were plenty of canines, felines, and even birds. It was difficult to tell whether the birds were smart too, because they were just flying around and hanging out, but everyone else was definitely of comparable intelligence to humans.

“Uplifted animals. How did I not know about this?”

“You’ve been pretty busy, going to other worlds, other realities. Besides, this is a different timeline than the one you left. It’s close to what you recall, I’m sure, but you can’t trust anything you thought you knew from the past.”

“You seem to know a lot about what I’ve been up to,” Leona noted.

“Your grandfather filled us in.”

“Labhrás is here?” Leona questioned.

“We sent him back to where he belongs,” Pribadium explained. “He still has to father your father, so your father can father you.”

Leona nodded, and continued to watch the animals moving about like a creeper.

A bonobo hopped over to them. “Take a picture! It’ll last longer!”

“I’m terribly sorry,” she said to him.

“I’m kidding,” the bonobo replied with a laugh. “It’s okay to be intrigued. If I saw a cricket pushing a baby carriage, I would probably stare too.” He held out a hand. “Hello, my name is Gresham Oberti, Exalted Ten. I run this station. If there’s anything you need, you can ask me, and I’ll do what I can.”

“Exalted Ten?” Leona asked with a slight grimace, embarrassed by her ignorance.

“There are degrees to which an organism may be uplifted. Level Ten means that I have the tools I would need to elevate myself to superintelligence status, but I have not actually done that. In my opinion, Ten is the best. I don’t wanna know everything, and I don’t understand anyone who does. Anyway, I have to introduce myself to the rest of the Shortlist, but remember what I said, I’m here to help.” He ran off.

“Altair,” Leona repeated. “Exalted ones. Cute.”

“We didn’t name them that, or choose this as their homestar. They chose for themselves, and the migration was authorized by the Earthan government. There are plenty of them who still live there, of course, and on the other worlds. They just wanted a home of their own, as we all do. You’ve been gone a long time, and as I said, this is not the timeline that you remember.”

“Yeah. Our actions changed a lot.”

“Not just yours. There were other teams crossing the parallels, creating new timelines. I’ve done it a few times myself.”

“What does any of this matter?” Leona asked. “The meeting, I mean. You know what’s about to happen, don’t you?”

“The Reconvergence? Yeah, we don’t have to worry about that.”

Leona shook her head. “I’ve spoken to people who know the fate of the universe. The main sequence will be taken into the Sixth Key. If there was ever any hope that the public could be kept in the dark regarding time powers, it has been sent down the drain. It will happen. If nothing else, the Parallel and the Fifth Division will see to that.”

“It’s complicated, but don’t you worry,” Pribadium began. “We’re not going to be in the Sixth Key. We’re staying right here. Now let’s keep going. We’ll be convening tomorrow in Lylla Hall. It’s across Town Square.”

Leona looked back to see Weaver in the middle of a conversation with Thor and Gresham. Everyone on the Shortlist was probably taking the same route. This was all planned and structured, but by whom? They walked across Town Square, and entered the double doors under the huge sign that read Lylla Hall. They first entered the vestibule. Standing there in full military dress was General Bariq Medley from planet Teagarden. He was once in charge of the Quantum Colony game that millions of people played without realizing that it wasn’t a game at all, but they were in control of real star systems light years away, some of which were inhabited by clueless natives.

“Madam Matic,” Medley said. “It’s nice to see you again.”

“Likewise, I hope,” Leona replied. “I did not expect you to be here.” She looked over at Pribadium, who wasn’t looking back. “I did not expect any of these people.”

Pribadium cleared her throat. “Is she free?”

“She’s inside, finalizing the audience roster,” Medley told her.

“Audience?” Leona questioned. “What audience? Pribadium Delgado, who is she, and what audience are we talking about? Will people be watching us?”

The door to the meeting hall opened. A familiar face stepped through. It was Divinia Tiongsong. They met her in the Third Rail, but she didn’t say who exactly she was, or why the global brain scanner logged her as an error who had experienced an unusual amount of time for someone in the rather primitive reality. “It’s okay, General, I’ll take it from here.”

He nodded, not just respectfully, but reverently. She was more powerful than him. “Ma’am.” He walked away with his entourage of officers.

“I could hear you talking from in there,” Divina said to Leona. “Yes, there will be an audience, and no, it was not our idea. Members of the Shortlist made this decision. Why you were not involved is not something that I can answer, but in your absence, they convened a quorum, and requested certain things from us. Firstly, they did not want to hold the meeting on Earth, Teagarden, or other politically charged locations. They chose Altair, and the Altarens obliged, following my facilitation. If you take issue with his, I suggest you speak with the others. As the term goes, the public has been deveiled. It’s my job to keep everyone safe while you decide what that means.”

“Okay.” It seemed wrong and weird, but what could she do? Leona wields the least amount of power and influence amongst the group. Honestly, she’s always felt that her inclusion was more out of pity than anything, so if this is how the others want to do it, then she won’t object unless someone else does first. The question was, who would be in this audience, and would they have any say in the decision-making process?

Weaver and Thor came into the vestibule. The former was just as confused as Leona was. Thor just acted fortunate to be included. Right behind them was Ramses Abdulrashid. He did show up. “Oh hey, Lee-Lee. Shocker I know. I’ll explain how I survived the destruction of Phoenix Station. But first...I found Olimpia.”

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Microstory 1910: Detained

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Street Proctor: Here you are, boys, fresh meat! And look, he’s a cop! Have fun!

Detainee 1: Is that true? Were you a cop?

Leonard: I was—I am—a parole officer. It was my job to keep guys like you out of jail after you left. I’m trying to get back to that life.

Detainee 1: I see. *stands up*

Leonard: Look, I’m not here to fight.

Detainee 1: Me neither. My parole officer kept me out for ten years before she was murdered. I’m in here because I found the dirty cop who did her in, and put him in the ground. I just wanna shake your hand.

Detainee 2: Heh. They probably thought that we would kill you for wearing that badge.

Detainee 3: They’re proctors. Proctors are morons. All they do is observe and report.

Leonard: Observe and report? He arrested me when I told him that I was homeless.

Detainee 2: Yeah, he’s technically not allowed to do that.

Detainee 1: Cops are cops. Since when do they care what the law says? Present company excluded, of course.

Leonard: I’ve barely been here an hour, and I already don’t understand this world.

Detainee 2: What’s to understand? Everyone’s corrupt. That’s all you need to know.

Leonard: *whispering to himself* I gotta get outta here.

Detainee 3: I’m in.

Leonard: Huh? I don’t mean out of jail. I can’t break any more laws. I just mean this area. I’m far from home, and I want to get back to my family.

Detainee 1: It’s not illegal to break out of jail.

Leonard: It’s not? These laws really are weird.

Detainee 1: The only catch is if you get caught, you’ll go back to jail to await trial, and they will probably use your attempted escape against you. Though it will not technically be a charge, the judge will rule based on his personal feelings on the matter. Obviously most of them frown upon it, so if we’re doing this, let’s not get caught.

Detainee 3: Oh, but if you physically harm someone in the process, that can be an added charge. The good news is, as you’ve already seen, the police at this particular station are incredibly incompetent...easily embarrassed. We should be able to slip past.

Detainee 2: Yeah, and they won’t want to open an investigation, or initiate a pursuit, because that makes them look bad. They’re liable to wipe us from the system, and hope that no one else finds out.

Detainee 3: Plus his badge.

Detainee 2: Oh yeah, you have that badge. I don’t recognize it, but if you’re clever, they won’t notice. We’ll just wanna wait until a shift change, so no one will recognize you.

Detainee 1: So how about it, paroler? You wanna break out of here?

Detainee 4: I got somethin’ to say.

Detainee 3: Detainee 4, you’re awake.

Detainee 4: I heard every word, and I have one question. What do we do about him?

Jail Guard: I hate proctors too. Anyway, I need some more coffee. Don’t you go breakin’ out while I’m gone, ya hear? It’ll probably take me about an hour.

Microstory 1909: An Officer Arrested

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Senior Proctor: Street Proctor, why did you arrest that man in there?

Street Proctor: He told me that he was homeless. My hands were tied. Ha, now his hands are tied.

Senior Proctor: Did you happen to search his person before you brought him in?

Street Proctor: Of course I did.

Senior Proctor: So you noticed that he was carrying this badge?

Street Proctor: I...of course I did. I didn’t think anything of it. It looks fake. I don’t recognize that design.

Senior Proctor: I don’t either, but feel how heavy it is.

Street Proctor: That doesn’t make it real.

Senior Proctor: I think it’s real to him, and I’m interested to find out where he got it, and why he has it. Don’t you? He didn’t identify himself as a parole officer, did he? Why do you think that is? It may have saved him some trouble.

Street Proctor: I have no idea. I probably would have left him alone if he had.

Senior Proctor: Let’s go in there and have a chat.

Street Proctor: His biometric results aren’t in yet.

Senior Proctor: I have a feeling they’re not going to find him in the system. *Opens door* Good evening. My name is Senior Proctor. Can you tell me what your name is?

Parole Officer: Miazga. Leonard Miazga.

Senior Proctor: It’s nice to meet you, Officer Miazga. You are an officer, correct?

Leonard Miazga: I am. I work for the Kansas City Metro Corps Department of Corrections as a parole officer for non-violent crimes.

Senior Proctor: Wow, that’s a mouthful. If you have steady work, why do you not have a permanent residential address?

Leonard: I choose to exercise my right to remain silent.

Senior Proctor: *laughs* What? Your right to remain silent? Never heard of it. Have you, Street Proctor?

Street Proctor: Can’t say that I have, boss.

Senior Proctor: I’ve never heard of the Kansas City Metro Corps either.

Street Proctor: Me neither.

Senior Proctor: Look, I don’t know what you’re tryin’ to pull here with this piece of junk badge, and your made up stories about being an officer of the court—

Street Proctor: I don’t either.

Senior Proctor: That’s enough, Street Proctor. Anyway, Mr. Miazga, my subordinate was right when he told you that he had no choice but to arrest you. If you have nowhere to live, you live in a jail cell. That’s the law. Understand?

Leonard: I understand.

Senior Proctor: Good.

Leonard: I understand that this country created no laws protecting suspected law-breakers, nor any meant to promote a sense of due process or fairness in justice.

Senior Proctor: Get him out of here. Pin that badge on him, and threaten his life if he tries to take it off. Let the other criminals in there decide how they feel about it.

Microstory 1908: Proctor, Proctor, Help Me, Help Me

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My Parole Officer: Hello, hi. I’m glad I found you. I seem to be lost. Could you point me in the direction of Kansas City?

Street Proctor: Never heard of it.

Parole Officer: Oh. What is the city we’re in called?

Proctor: Kansas City, Missouri.

Parole Officer: That’s what I said.

Proctor: No. You just said Kansas City. There is no such thing. It would be like calling this country America when it’s the United States of America.

Parole Officer: Okay, well, it’s not the same thing. People call it that all the time, and there’s not usually any ambiguity. You should have assumed what I meant.

Proctor: You’re already here in Kansas City Missouri. Why would you ask to go somewhere when you’re already there? I figured you were trying to talk about something else. It would be like asking for a glass of water while you’re holding a glass of water.

Parole Officer: Umm...

Proctor: If you’ll excuse me, I’m on patrol.

Parole Officer: You’re not moving.

Proctor: That’s why I always get myself assigned a corner. I can see my entire day’s jurisdiction without having to move.

Parole Officer: Something’s wrong here. Who is the President of the United States?

Proctor: The president? There is no such thing. You can have a president of a neighborhood, maybe, but perhaps you mean the National Commander?

Parole Officer: Yeah, sure. Who is the National Commander?

Proctor: Commander Apostle Virtue.

Parole Officer: Apostle Virtue. That’s their real name?

Proctor: Of course it is. Why?

Parole Officer: Yeah, this is definitely the wrong world.

Proctor: What was that?

Parole Officer: Nothing. Never mind. Don’t worry about it. Listen, I’m homeless, and I don’t have any money. Is there perhaps a shelter nearby, or somewhere else I could stay to get out of the elements.

Proctor: Is that a joke? Please tell me that you’re joking.

Parole Officer: I wish I was, but I’m afraid I’m not where I should be, and I need some help. I know the law, I shouldn’t sleep out on the streets, but I don’t know where I can go. I’m obviously very unfamiliar with this area. I’ve traveled from far away.

Proctor: Oh my God. Why did it have to be my corner? Months without incident, and then you show up to make things more complicated. The paperwork, the paperwork...

Parole Officer: I don’t think that’s necessary. Just tell me where I can go. I’ll get there myself, even if it’s far. I don’t mind walking.

Proctor: No, I have to arrest you.

Parole Officer: What? Hey, watch it! Why exactly are you handcuffing me?

Proctor: Homelessness is illegal. You could have gotten away with it, and stayed hidden, but you went and confessed to me. Now I have no choice. Don’t resist.

Microstory 1907: Introduction to Conversations

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Nick Fisherman: Guess who’s back with an off-brand old bag of tricks?

Tavis Highfill: What’s that now?

Nick: I’ll be the one asking the questions!

Tavis: ...were you gonna—

Nick: That sounds like the start of a question!

Tavis: It’s you. You’re back with an old bag of tricks. What does—I mean, I wonder what bag you’re referring to.

Nick: Do you remember a few years ago when we did the Interview Transcripts microfiction series, involving all kinds of different interview types?

Tavis: Yes, I recall.

Nick: We’re doing that again, except not as interviews. These are just general conversations.

Tavis and Nick: *salute* General Conversations.

Tavis: Why do you salute with your middle finger, fourth finger, and pinky?

Nick: Because no one else does.

Tavis: Fair enough. Tell me about these conversations. Are they going to be real conversations that you’ve had with real people?

Nick: Absolutely not. I could not, and would not, betray someone’s privacy like that. Hey, wait a minute. First of all, I thought I told you that I was the one asking questions, and also, I seem to remember saying something like this last time.

Tavis: You probably did. You’re not very original or creative.

Nick: Well you’re me, so...

Tavis: So, great. A new series. It’s been a long time since we’ve done one of those.

Nick: Yes, it’s very exciting, and also very stressful. I’m worried that I don’t remember how to start a story anymore.

Tavis: I’m sure you’ll figure it out.

Nick: Thanks.

Tavis: I wonder if these will take place in the same universe as the interview transcripts, or in some other specific universe, or whether you won’t think much about it while you’re writing them.

Nick: They will actually take place in a new universe.

Tavis: Does that mean it’s completely new, or you’ve just not mentioned it before?

Nick: Not tellin’.

Tavis: *laughs* Very well, then.

My Parole Officer: Hey, usually when you do a fake conversation in one of your nanofiction tweets, I’m involved. Am I going to be a part of this too?

Nick: Yes.

Tavis: Really? Wow. Okay, that’s weird. I can’t wait for tomorrow.

Microstory 1906: Thoughts On Mateo Daily

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The Advancement of Mateo Matic: April 8, 2400

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Mateo is watching his wife pack the essentials, preparing to leave their most recent temporary home. He wishes that he could go with her, but it is not his place. Only members of the Shortlist are allowed, plus a mediator, whose identity has not been revealed to them. “But...you’ll be back in a second, right? I mean that literally, it should only take a second.”

“That’s not how it’s going to work. However long this meeting is—and the way I understand it, it’s going to be very long—we will be separated for that amount of time. To put it another way, if it takes us three days, I won’t see you for three days, and you won’t see me for three days as well.”

“It’s not going to take days, will it?” Mateo figures.

“It might,” Leona warns. “We have a lot to discuss, and people will take sides. Then they’ll probably switch sides.” She gives him a kiss on the cheek. “But like I said, we’ll remain simpatico, so even if you were to restart your time jumps, you won’t have to worry about losing me for a whole year. It’s definitely not going to take anywhere near that long. Here.” She hands him a tiny, thin ring. “Stick this under your wedding ring. It’s a locator device. When it’s time for me to return, I’ll be able to find you anywhere in the universe. I have one too. It’ll activate a hologram.”

“Were I you, Leona,” he says as he’s starting to install the device.

“Were I you.” Leona throws her bag over her shoulder, and waves at Angela and Marie. She steps through the door, and when it closes, so too does the portal.

Mateo opens it to check, and finds only a closet on the other side. “Simpatico,” he whispers, hoping that she’s right about that.

“Come on.” Angela takes him by the hand. “Let’s get something to eat.”

“I miss the food on the AOC. We need to go back to either the Third Rail, or to the one we left in the Fifth Division.”

“According to Danica,” Marie begins, “main sequence Earth is the safest place to be when the Reconvergence happens. They’ve apparently built up the strongest solar system defense compared to the others, who either rely on outdated technology, or on offensive measures.”

“I suppose I would rather be on the surface than up here,” Marie determines.

“Let us lunch in London,” Alyssa suggests in a mild, but bad, British accent.

“Alyssa?” Mateo questions. “When did you get here?”

“Just now. Come on, I’ll navigate. I know a lovely place to eat on Maiden Lane.”

“They still have restaurants on this planet that aren’t in an arcology?” Marie asks.

“Of course they do.” Alyssa takes her hand as well. “But just the one.”

The four of them jump to what was once the United Kingdom, and have a traditional British meal at the oldest still-standing restaurant in the world. An hour later, Mateo finishes the last bite of his vanilla crème brûlée, and tosses his napkin down on the table. “All right. You’ve treated us, now why are you here?”

“We’re friends,” Alyssa points out.

“Of course we are,” Marie confirms, “and while this has been a lovely afternoon, you’re obviously here for a reason, and we’re here,” she says, indicating the geography, “for a very specific reason.”

Alyssa nods, and wipes her lips. “We need you,” she admits.

“We told everyone that we were done. We just want to go off and be anonymous for a while,” Marie explains.

“That’s very...stupid of you,” Alyssa says, taking it in a far different direction than any of them expected. “You’re the most famous people in five realities. The main sequence has just learned of time travel, and they’re already linking your team to it. Half of The Parallel is run by one member of your team’s alternate self. The Third Rail will forever associate Leona Matic with the sudden influx of time-powered people. The Fourth Quadrant learns about you in their history books, though of course, that’s limited to Kansas City...for now. Finally, the Fifth Division has experienced profound sociopolitical changes thanks to your interference in their affairs. After the Reconvergence, that will only get worse, because they’ll compare notes. Your exploits are legendary.”

“We’ll find a planet that doesn’t care about any of that,” Angela offers, “somewhere in the Sixth Key.”

“That’s what I wanted to talk to you about,” Alyssa says. “I’ve recently learned that the Reconvergence is a little less inevitable than we once thought. Don’t mistake me, it’s happening. Four realities will be coming together, and the Keys are vital to preserving the lives of the inhabitants. But we can spare one of them from the issue entirely. Apparently, only four original realities have to be collapsed, and apparently, you get to choose.”

Mateo grimaces. “What? What do we have to do with any of that?”

“Not we,” Alyssa contends. “Just you. You have been chosen to...choose.”

“The same question remains. What do I have to do with it?”

Alyssa doesn’t respond for a moment. “I don’t know, but I think...” She trails off before returning to her thought. “I think that there’s a new threat out there. After Zeferino, after Erlendr, even after all of the Constances. I believe that someone wants you to make the decision simply so that you will have to live with it.”

Mateo sighs. “I should have known. I should have seen this coming. What am I meant to do with that information? No matter what I choose, I’m deciding the fate of the Reality Wars, which are supposedly still coming. Or are they?” Leona would know what to do in this situation, even if it meant that they would just leave it to other people to decide. Then again, maybe there really isn’t any choice at all. If they take one opponent from the war, can’t that only make things better? Or maybe it can’t. Maybe it doesn’t matter. “If I choose to save the Parallel, for instance, am I keeping them out of the fight, or is that what causes them to become so violent? Would I really be changing anything, or just walking down the road of fate without realizing it?”

“I can’t answer these questions,” Alyssa clarifies sadly. “I don’t know if I should even trust Dalton’s words anymore.”

“You’re still talking to that guy?” Angela asks her. “Danica says to ignore him.”

“He says to ignore Danica,” Alyssa responds.

“So wait,” Marie chimes in, “if no one outside of our team can be trusted, why should Mateo do anything? What happens if he doesn’t bother to choose?”

“If you don’t even try,” Alyssa begins, “all five realities will reconverge. If you do try, there’s a chance that it’s all bullshit, and won’t work, but there’s a chance that it’s not, and it does. I suppose I would rather give it a shot than do nothing at all.”

“The downside to giving it a shot,” Mateo reasons, “is something that no one at this table could ever hope to comprehend. As I said, the choice could be what precipitates the war somehow, and the only way to stop it would be to do the unexpected, and treat all realities equally.”

“You are thirty minutes away from Stonehenge,” Alyssa tells them, standing up. “It’s 13:15 right now, giving you three hours to decide whether to go there or not. Or you could make the choice right now, and I’ll teleport you there.”

“We can teleport ourselves now,” Marie contends.

“Even better. Be there by 16:15...or don’t. I’m just the messenger.” Alyssa pushes her chair back in, and throws a hundred dollar bill from the Third Rail on the table.

“They don’t use money anymore,” Marie reminds her.

“I always forget.” Alyssa teleports away without retrieving the bill.

“What are you going to do?” Angela asks Mateo.

He stands up too. “I’m going to talk to the only person I know who can make sense of all this.” He grabs the leftovers, and jumps alone to Lebanon, Kansas. He misses his Danica Matic.