Second Stage of Something Started: Contracts (Part VIII)

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“Where have you been?” Vearden asked. The portal on Mars had transported him back to the island through the replica of the stargate. Saga was just walking up to him from down the beach.

“I’ve been traveling through time as Baxter’s nurse.”

“You two are on a first name basis?”

“It’s been six years for me.”

“Really?” The last time they were separated, she had lived with Sam, Lorena, and Edward for three years in the mid-19th century. When they were finally returned to each other, he had only experienced a year. This time, she had him beat again. Why were the powers that be separating two partners in the first place, and why the difference in duration? “It’s only been a week for me.”

“Where were you?”

“Makarion and I were forced through the timeline thousands of...times. We always landed either just before, or just after Mateo Matic’s midnight, though we usually didn’t actually encounter him.”

“That’s very interesting.”

“I’m tired of being away from you,” Vearden lamented. “Why are they doing this?”

“We’re the freelancers. We go where we’re needed, but only once it’s time.”

“Sounds like you’ve become quite comfortable with this life.”

“It’s why ‘cause all the lives I’ve saved,” Saga answered amusingly.

“I only care about the one,” he responded. “Did Sarka—I mean Baxter, patch you up?”

“Yes,” Saga replied. “But I had to get myself to him first. Running with a gut wound is not fun, but at least we now know how to operate the stargate.”

“We’ve no idea where we would end up if we do.”

“As long as it isn’t an island, I’m not all that worried about it.”

“Fair point.” The two friends took each other by the hand and walked back through the gate together.

They found themselves in a very darkly lit chamber of stone, reminding them of when they first landed in the original Colosseum. Torch light flickered on the wall up ahead. They could hear voices, but could not make out any words. Nothing around them could have acted as a new portal, so there only choice was to move forward. As they drew nearer, the voices became clearer, and even familiar. Before they reached the opening, Makarion popped into view with a torch and stopped them defensively. “Oh my God, it’s you.”

“What are you two doing here?” Makarion ordered them to explain themselves.

“We walked through the stargate. Where is here?”

“Giza.”

“Giza? As in...the Great Pyramid of—?”

The sound of Vearden’s daughter’s voice came from around the corner, “Makarion, what’s going on up there?”

“Laura!” Vearden exclaimed.

They rudely ran past Makarion and bolted down to find both of their children sitting in a surprisingly modern chamber, along with Theo Delaney. There was a living room with couches and a television. Off to the side were cabinets, a sink, and other appliances. Hugs were hugged and laughs were laughed. They caught up with each other about what they had gone through since first being separated before getting into what was happening more recently.

“What are you guys doing down here?”

“We had a run-in with The Cleanser,” Samsonite started to explain. “He killed Leona’s parents after she accidentally killed Darko while trying to kill Makarion. She came here with us, but isn’t here now because today is not her day.”

“Are we actually in the pyramid?” Saga asked, fascinated. She had always wanted to photograph the pyramids. She had planned on developing a photobook including pyramids from all over the world, but never found the time or money. “How have tourists not caught you? Are we deep in the past again?”

“No, they’re around,” Makarion jumped in. “They just don’t know about this part of it. Neither does any egyptologist, or any expert, really.”

“How is that possible with modern day technology?” Vearden asked. “Radars and other sciencey stuff that goes over my head,” he suggested.

A naked woman they had never met before walked in from an opening on the other side of the wall, still in the middle of drying herself off after a shower. “They can’t see into these chambers,” she assured them. “They exist in a shielded bidimensional parastructure,” she technobabbled redundantly.

“Well, that’s what I figured, but...” Vearden said sarcastically.

The woman started back into it while rigorously scratching at her hair with the towel. She had obviously been over this multiple times. “There are some places in the world that exhibit very special physical properties. They are why salmon, choosers, and powers that be exist in the first place. Easter Island, the Bermuda Triangle, a random clearing in Ontario; salmon are constantly being drawn to these places, and will in fact, be more likely born in one of them than anywhere else. Hell, the entirety of Kansas seems to be a giant hotspot, with lots of smaller hotspots inside of it like Lebanon, Stull, and Lawrence. Choosers and powers have been declaring ownership of these landmarks of lore since their discoveries. The Delegator owns Stonehenge, The Concierge owns The Constant, and The Gravedigger owns The Graveyard. A salmon named Horace Reaver tried to take control of Uluru years ago. He refused to leave, even after failing.”

“So The Great Pyramid of Giza is yours,” Saga said, suddenly feeling the need to admire the walls, looking for what was protecting them from prying eyes.

“It is,” she said while pulling on her pants. “For now.”

“Choosers are not allowed to enter each other’s domains without permission,” Makarion said. “This is one of the few safe places on Earth, and our host has graciously agreed to provide us with sanctuary.”

“There is no sanctuary,” the woman said in a dark and low tone. Then she laughed, “just kidding. Meliora has control over that.”

“We...” Saga started, “do not know your name.”

“I prefer to keep my name secret, like many others. You can call me The Escapologist. Don’t ask me where I escaped from. Not even Makarion knows that much about what’s really going on.”

With the conversation fizzled out, Saga and Vearden retreated to the couches so they could focus on their family. The Escapologist and Theo started cooking them all a meal.

Just before dinner, Makarion politely asked if he could speak with them in the other room. He seemed quite different than he was the last time they saw him. The sadistic choice that the Cleanser had put them through had affected him a great deal. No longer was he the quippy, confident little jerk from before. He was scared. “I guess the cat’s out of the bag,” he said ominously. “I have been working for the Cleanser, but only so that he doesn’t wreak havoc on you people. Don’t get me wrong, I’m no saint, and I enjoy...toying with people. But he’s so much worse. The contract I had with him prevented me from revealing this, but I’m hoping to remedy the situation. If I don’t, you’re all in danger. But I need something. From you, and from Mateo, when he returns.”

“What is it?” Saga asked, not hopeful it was something she wanted to give.

“I need you to keep going. I need you to fulfill your contract with me. I still need you to build the Colosseum. When I showed up after the golf game, I was there to inform you that your job had been voided due to Mateo’s death. Now that we know him to be alive, I have to do everything I can to put us back on track.”

“We were building the Colosseum for him?”

“I’ve been putting him through what I call tribulations. They’re much like the ones you’ve been going through, but far more planned out, elaborate, and structured. The Cleanser thinks that kind of life is worse than death, and he may be right. But if he’s not, then we simply cannot stop. I don’t want to do this.” He stared at the floor solemnly. “Certainly not anymore. But if I don’t try—if I don’t make an attempt to get back to where we were, I fear the worst.”

Vearden thought about the offer. He made a good point about not knowing the danger lurking in alternate realities, but there must still have been something he wasn’t telling them. “What will Mateo be doing there once it’s finished?”

“It’s the Colosseum, what do you think?”

The just stared at him down their noses.

“Sorry. Force of habit.” He took an acceptable pause. “So, are you in, or do we band together and try to fight? I warn you that he’s the most powerful chooser I’ve met, and probably is exactly that.”

“Well, I’ve tried to fight before,” Vearden said with a sigh. “And that hasn’t worked out for me thus far.”

Saga looked at him and they nodded at each other with pure understanding. “We’ll play along for now, but when it’s time to fight, will you agree to fight with us?”

“Yes. I’ll even add that to the contract.”

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Microstory 335: Job Security

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Economic Participation

Ah, job security. Does it exist? Nope. One thing you have to know is that working is an exchange, much like paying for things is. I give you money, you give me product or service. With a job, I do work for you, you give me money. The complexities will come into play later, but in the end, that’s what it boils down to. And you have to know this in order to understand one simple fact; no one in the job market owes you anything, and you don’t owe them anything either. A company is getting just as much out of you working for them as you are getting by being gainfully employed. And I do mean that it’s just as much, because the market has determined how much that job is worth, and you have agreed to work for that amount of money. If you want more money, you’ll have to ask for a raise, or find a new job. Likewise, if they want to pay less, they’re either going to have to give you a pay cut, or hire someone else. All this makes it sound like the system is perfect, and that I have no problem with it. It actually is a problem, and steps should be taken to rectify it. Women tend to be paid less than men for the same job. Age seems to be a double-edged sword, because employers want experience, but they also want cheap, young labor. So these companies are constantly turning employees over and shifting structure, essentially desperate to find a loophole to this whole thing about slavery being illegal. They hire interns and contractors, and they keep people under 40 hours a week so they don’t have to provide benefits, and they’ll always be that much closer to letting you go. No, job security does not exist, but some positions are closer than others. Once you’re comfortable where you are, your next step is further up the ladder towards the securiest job security available.

Capacity to Provide

Microstory 334: Economic Participation

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Ability to Save Money

Every dictionary I’ve seen has defined the economy in terms of a country’s resources, but the fact is that no nation exists separate from others. We’re all trading with each other, and everyone has something to contribute to the global system. Even each individual can, and in fact must, contribute in their own way to the exchange of goods and services. When my sister was teaching in Indonesia, she was expected to have a housekeeper. She didn’t necessarily need one, or need quite so much help, but it wasn’t about her. Most adults need jobs (some more than others). This housekeeper was capable of finding only certain kinds of work, and so my sister paid her money so that it could keep circulating through the economy. Monetary exchange is what our whole world is based on. Now, I’m personally an idealist. I believe in a world without money, war, or poverty. But that is not something we can accomplish as long as there are jobs people don’t really want to do, and even after automating such work, people may still not be on board with a moneyless world. This is all because we’ve decided to foster a capitalistic society. I don’t care what anyone’s told you about other countries, and their crazy forms of government, every single country on this planet is capitalistic. If it weren’t, it would not be able to survive, because it needs things from other countries, both goods and alliances. As I’ve said time and time again, don’t spend too much, and don’t hoard your money. You don’t have to choose between one or the other; there is a happy medium, and when you spend, you support the needs of others. I would like to spend my remaining word slots for something I should have said in my introduction. These microfaction stories are three things: stream of consciousness, restricted in length, and limited in scope. I do not do research. I just type what I feel, when I feel it.

Job Security

Microstory 333: Ability to Save Money

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Freedom from Debt

Once you’ve gotten yourself out of debt, and the numbers on that spreadsheet turn from red to black, obviously the next step is increasing those numbers even more. You’re going to want to move as far away from zero as you can. Everybody loves money, and life is a constant fight to get as much as possible to spend on grand things. There’s nothing wrong with that, and I’m not saying you should never buy anything, but be careful. Along with money comes the risk of losing it. So many people end up back in the red because they have no problem with having more money than they know what to do with. They can be quite creative when it comes to spending, and only later realize they should have gone without some of those purchases. There is another side to this, so I don’t want you to think that I’m just getting onto people who spend too much. It’s also possible to gather so much money that you’re paranoid about it, and you end up hardly spending anything. This is harmful to the economy, and hurts us all. But that’s a story for another day...literally. Now I can’t personally tell you how to save money. I don’t know how to invest, or what kind of accounts to set up, or really even how interest works. The only advice I can give you is to either figure that out for yourself, or have enough money to pay someone else to do it for you. That second one, as long as you can trust the person you hire, will keep your money safe, and you’ll also be contributing to their money, which supports the economy. But again, I’m getting ahead of myself. The takeaway from all this is to be frugal and wise. Just because you have enough money for a giant mansion, doesn’t mean you should live in one. There’s a difference between money you have, and money you can afford to spend.

Economic Participation

Microstory 332: Freedom from Debt

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Steady Income

People of all classes have experienced debt. Sure, there are some rich people out there who have no clue what it’s like to owe money, but it’s also not reserved only for poor people. It’s harder for the poor, of course, because it’s more difficult for them to get to a place where they can pay it off. A few years back, my favorite radio station personalities were talking about debt and saving money. One of them said that, when he was worse off, he never saved money. If ever he came into extra cash, he would immediately spend it on whatever he owed. He had lapsed on, for example, his electricity bill, or had bought something on layaway. He said that you would think someone in that position would want to set money aside when they could, but that time never came until his life changed. I’ve always been good with money only because I don’t need much. I spend on food, television, and internet. I suffer from a binge eating disorder that digs into my wallet more than I would like, but most of my life exists on the web. From my perspective, I don’t need to go out and buy a new picture frame when I can just pull the image up on my computer. This has kept me in relatively good standing, even when I couldn’t find steady work. In fact, it was only recently that I started paying for things I didn’t literally have the money for in my bank account. I don’t use credit cards, I use my debit card. I did get lucky in a certain sense, however. I received a significant amount of scholarship money from my family’s church, so college was paid off before I thought to ask my parents about it. But I can’t tell you how good it feels to not be in debt, because I’ve yet to truly experience that. I hope you one day will, if you’ve not yet.

Ability to Save Money

Microstory 331: Steady Income

Click here for a list of every step.
Competence

There are six major aspects of living in a capitalistic society that everyone needs to tackle to thrive in it. They’re interwoven with each other, and each one will help accomplish the other ones. They are, in a somewhat particular order: steady income, freedom from debt, the ability to save money, economic participation, job security, and the ability to provide for others. In the end, having a really good job is going to let you check off each one of these, or render them irrelevant, but let’s start with steady income. This can come from having any job with a regular schedule. It does not include day labor or odd jobs, or one that relies entirely too heavy on ad hoc contracts. It doesn’t necessarily pay all that well, and you might struggle with making ends meet, but it’s what keeps you from the constant fear that work will just suddenly stop being available. Temporary positions can qualify for this, as long as you’re in a position to move from one to the next. If there is too large of a gap between appointments, then it does not. On the other end, this doesn’t necessarily include fulltime jobs with benefits, or job security. This is just about getting something going that prevents you from feeling like you have to spend every non-working moment looking for something better. I have had nearly a dozen different jobs, and they all lacked something that could have made them the perfect job. It was great pay, but only temporary; it was fulltime but didn’t pay all that well; I loved every second of it but I was just a volunteer, and it couldn’t last. Right now, however, I can check off this first box. Though I can’t live without the support of my family, I go into work five days a week, and I get a paycheck every Friday. I still owe people money, though, so now I need to work on the second box.

Freedom from Debt

The Advancement of Mateo Matic: May 23, 2077 (Part II)

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Designated teleporter and salmon-chooser hybrid Rogue Makarion was doing the best he could. He wanted to tell the targets of his torture that he was the only thing standing between them and certain death. Doing so, however, would break his agreement with the enemy, effectively tearing up their contract together, placing everyone in danger. But this wasn’t working. Mateo and Leona made every effort to subvert the rules of his tribulations. Each time they did, they were taken further from his purview and protection, and closer to the hands of the one who truly wanted to do them harm. Perhaps the tribulations were no longer a viable option, or maybe they never were. If he could team up with Mateo and Leona by explaining himself, could they put up a united front against the evil? Would they go for it? Would they even listen to him?

The first step to either road he decided to take was stopping Vearden from throwing them back through time. It was only 2076, which meant that Mateo and Leona hadn’t been on their own for too long, so the contract had not yet expired. He grabbed a nearby lamp and slammed it into Vearden’s head before rushing out of the room on the Martian base. Vearden faded out of view as he tried to cross the threshold. He had been whisked away by a portal. Perfect timing. Well, it was good enough, at least. He would have to wait a whole year for Mateo, Leona, and Darko to return. The only thing that could stop him now was if The Cleanser decided he hadn’t quite fulfilled his obligations to the agreement.

What most people don’t know is that Melinda Carson knew Mateo Matic when they were just in high school. She had honestly had a bit of a crush on him, but felt uncomfortable vocalizing this since she was a senior when he was but a freshman. She went off to college without him ever having noticed that she existed. She regretted never going for it right up until the point she met Frank Delaney. He was seven years older than her, but that never mattered. Their age difference became even less of an issue once everyone started learning about the longevity escape velocity. As science and health progress, the number of years extended on someone’s life increasingly surpasses the number of years passed. That is, people are now effectively immortal. No one will care about their age difference once she’s a thousand, and he’s a thousand and seven.

Things were changing, though. Frank always seemed to be on board with this new way of life, but the situation with his daughter was really getting to him. Leona was constantly jumping through time, and he was only able to see her once a year, at best. It was like a fairytale; no happy ending. Melinda kept trying to help him through it, saying that life extension was only going to help him, but the depression was growing year by year. Of course, he was hiding it from Leona pretty well, and possibly even little old Theo, but Melinda knew him best. He never quite got over his first wife either, so that certainly wasn’t helping his mental state. There was this movement spreading across the world for people who don’t necessarily reject all technology, but do believe that death is necessary for life to hold meaning. There are multiple factions for this movement, and some of them are nasty, using their beliefs to justify killing others. Frank is not involved with these particular factions, and he was only starting to look into it, but Melinda still worried that he was on a dangerous path. She never wanted to die, and she didn’t want him to die either.

She was just about to talk to Frank about her feelings, because it was one of the days when Leona was supposed to return. She had been missing for several years, and so these were always the worst. Before she could open her mouth, a man they called the Cleanser appeared before the family and took them away one by one. Before too long, Melinda was alone in the house. Panicked, she ran from room to room, calling everyone several times, but they were not responding. There was nothing left for her to do but sit and shudder and wait.

Frank Delaney was not a suicidal man. He was just having doubts about whether he wanted to live forever or not. Seeing his daughter only once a year for thousands of years did not sound like his idea of a good time. His second child, Theo wasn’t always his. He was the reincarnation of a man who was first born in seventeenth century. At some point, he died, and came back as a baby. The first several years with him were great. He was a happy and thoughtful child, both curious and precocious. Looking back, these were the first signs that he was different. Though he had grown up with advanced technology, they always seemed foreign to him, like he was some kind of anachronism. At first, Frank thought he might have some kind of learning disability, or be on the autism spectrum, but the tests came back negative. In the end, weird was the only right word for it. And that’s exactly how he liked it. But then he started talking about things that didn’t make any sense. He would recall events in the past that could not have happened to him. This was not just a rich imagination; this was a problem.

Not long after Leona started jumping through time, putting a strain on the whole family dynamic, Theo revealed to them the truth. He had remembered enough about his past life to consider it, and the parents he left behind, to be the real ones. Suddenly Frank and Melinda were only surrogates; glorified ovens to be used for a safe home and food on the table. He was reconnected with his best friends from the past, and he was back in his old world of salmon and other time travelers. Frank and Melinda couldn’t relate to them at all, and nothing was going to change that. He somehow both quickly and gradually lost his children to time. He would never get them back, no matter how long he lived. So yes, he was seriously thinking about letting it all end eventually. He was a hundred years old. Back before all this, people were lucky to reach that age, so it wasn’t like he was wasting all this potential. At least, that’s how he justified his position. He knew he wasn’t being completely rational, but he also had yet to come to his final decision, so there was no need for Melinda to freak out about it.

At the moment, the Cleanser had everyone in separate groups, wading in the water on a beach as the sun was going down. Mateo and Leona were standing on their own. The gun he gave her was empty, but it was clear where this was going. Aura, Samsonite, and Theo were forced onto their knees, hands tied behind their backs. Darko and Makarion were standing to the side like spectators, but neither of them wanted to be there. The Cleanser teleported in holding Melinda by the neck right next to Frank whose legs he had already broken. Still, Frank tried to pull her away from their captor, but the Cleanser slapped him away with barely any effort. He slipped into his speech about how the contract had lapsed, and that a new one would have to be made, this one signed by any and all survivors. Makarion would be able to continue his games, but the movies he chose were going to have to be far more physically dangerous, and less planned out. Sticking with the plot was no longer important, but the setup to the most dangerous scene now mattered more than anything. He then said something about having to prove how serious he was, but Frank couldn’t hear it, because he knew what was going to happen next.

Melinda’s face turned red as the Cleanser gripped her neck tighter. He was squeezing the life out of her, but Frank wasn’t strong enough to stop it. He tried lunging towards them a few times, but was always kicked away. It was only after he gave up and just started crying that he realized that the Cleanser wasn’t holding Melinda by the neck at all. His arm was crossed over her chest, so there was no way he was blocking her air passage. What was he doing? Melinda yelled out in pain as her body split into literally millions of pieces. It was like she was turning to ash and drifting away little by little. Frank reached his highest octave and screamed out for her, but the damage had already been done. She was gone. Still as cool as ever, the Cleanser swung his palm up and towards Leona. Frank could hear a click in the gun. There was now one bullet in the chamber, to be used on one other person in the family. She was going to have to choose, or he would do the same thing he did to Melinda to everyone but her and Mateo.

Frank didn’t have time to worry about what had happened to his wife. Leona needed him right now. He tried to talk with her, to place the target on his own head. He was already on the back nine of his life, but everyone else was a salmon. They had jobs to do, and he was the obvious choice. He told her to wipe the tears from her face and just take the shot. It would be unfair of her to refuse and let everyone die when she could choose the lesser of two evils and kill only one. He could see the gears churning in her head as she was looking for “the third option”. The Cleanser obviously couldn’t be killed. Whatever crazy science fiction bullshit he had pulled on Melinda was far beyond any human. So she had to make a choice the Cleanser would never expect, just to show that he wasn’t in complete control. She moved the gun over and fired towards Makarion and Darko. The look of horror on her face proved that she was aiming for the former, but had accidentally hit the latter.

The Cleanser went apeshit. “Someone is going to have to die for this!” he cried out. Why he would care so much for Darko was not something Mateo understood. Leona and Aura ran over in an attempt to stop Darko from bleeding out. Mateo, Theo, and Samsonite blitzed the Cleanser, trying to fight him off as best they could. Makarion just stood there, stunned. He was definitely not part of the sadistic choice, and didn’t want any of this to happen. The Cleanser should have just teleported out, or torn them apart the same way he did with Melinda, but it didn’t look like he was thinking straight. Darko’s death had warped his brain too much. They were connected in some way, but how?

“Makarion, help!” Mateo pleaded.

Makarion looked to Mateo with puppy dog eyes, and then back at Aura and Leona who had just confirmed that Darko was dead. After looking back a few more times, he finally became determined. He came over to the brawl to pull Samsonite and Theo away. “I have this, sir.”

“Don’t do this, please!” Mateo yelled. “I know you’re not like him.”

“No,” Makarion said as he dragged two fully grown men over to the women. “I’m nothing like him. I save people, and I’m gonna save what family you have left!” He threw the men on the ground then lifted his arms to form some kind of translucent bubble around all five of them.

“Get back here, Boyce!” the Cleanser ordered, but it was too late. They were gone. He stopped fighting after they had left and sighed. “That’s okay. I’ll find him again.” He eyed Mateo with a great amount of disdain and fear. “I can’t kill you.” He looked over to Frank, whimpering on the ground and nursing his legs. “But humans are fair game.”

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Second Stage of Something Started: Reunions (Part VII)

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Vearden lost track of the number of points in time he and Makarion helplessly jumped through, and how much time had passed from their perspective. Though it had to number in the thousands across at least a week. As they had guessed, the jumps were all tied to Mateo’s jumps forward, but not for them in any particular order. Makarion seemed surprised that Mateo was still alive and kicking, but oddly content about knowing this. He seemed to have mixed feelings for Mateo and Leona. Vearden kept asking about it, hoping to find away to make things better, but Makarion kept his mouth shut. In fact, as much as Makarion liked the sound of his own voice, the two of them didn’t talk all that much. They just kept going, desperately hoping to get back to where they had begun, never quite knowing how long it was going to take, if it even ended at all. They did run into Saga a couple of times, but future versions of her, so that wasn’t all that helpful, except in letting Vearden know that she did somehow survive the gunshot. Either way, they needed to return to 2074. Neither of them ever knew what year it was at any one moment, and would have to look for context clues. They would occasionally stay four to six feet from each other to allow time for food and sleep. One time, they accidentally touched from going for the same chip, but that was all it took to throw them to a different day.

At present, it was April 28, 2416. The reason they knew this was because Leona jumped in at the same time. “How are you here?” Makarion asked.

“How the hell are you here?” Leona asked accusatively. “You should be three-hundred and eighty-two years old. It was my understanding that the powers that be don’t like us to also be transhumanists.”

Makarion stepped away from Vearden to protect them from an accidental jump somewhere else. “By our powers combined, we are CAPTAIN PLANET!”

“What?”

“Wow, tough crowd.” Makarion rolled his eyes. “When we touch each other, our patterns mix together to allow us to travel through time and space.”

“Force us through time and space,” Vearden corrected.

“That’s right, we have no control over it. We’re trying to get back, him to his partner, and me so I can find out how you survived that car crash back in 2073.”

“What do you mean? You already kn—” she stopped herself. “You haven’t learned how from your perspective.”

“No, that hasn’t happened yet.” Makarion looked over to Vearden with a smile. “I guess that means we get back at some point.”

“Eventually, yeah, I guess.”

Makarion continued, “we’ve been jumping into moments at the beginning, or the end of, Mateo’s day. How are you here? Your day was yesterday.”

“A lot has changed since you...” she trailed off, obviously not wanting to divulge too much information about the timeline. “We broke the rules, so we’re being punished. The powers switched me over so that I’m perpetually one day behind Mateo, which means that we don’t ever see each other. I only come back to the timestream the minute he leaves.”

“Hmm,” Makarion thought out loud. The both of them knew that this was not the situation in Leona’s future. At some point, somehow, their patterns are realigned, and they are reunited.

“It that ever changes, don’t tell me about it,” Leona insisted. “I don’t want to risk changing the future.”

“That is wise of you,” Makarion agreed.

“But I will tell you that I know who you are. I mean I know who you really are. I know why you’re doing this, and I forgive you.”

Makarion was actually touched by this, and almost speechless, but not quite. “If I didn’t—if I stepped back—things would be much worse for you.”

“We know. We find out, and we take care of that too. Don’t change your plans, but know that when the day comes when you can’t continue the tribulations, we survive. We’re still surviving. I don’t agree with your methods, but I understand why you did it.”

“I’m glad to hear that,” Makarion said genuinely.

What the hell is going on?

“Well, I guess we better be off,” Makarion went on. “We’re obviously not going to find Saga here. Not the one we’re looking for anyway.” He tipped an imaginary hat and reached out towards Vearden.

“No,” Vearden said.

“What is it now?”

“I have to help her. I may be the only one who can.”

“I don’t understand,” Makarion said.

“I do.” Leona smiled and explained, “if you and Vearden develop a new pattern with physical contact, perhaps the same could be done with him and me. He could take me back to where I belong.”

“There’s no way for you to know that.”

“I’m willing to try if you are,” Vearden said, palm face up.

“I am,” Leona said. Before Makarion could stop her, she had taken Vearden’s hand in hers.

They returned to the timestream one year later. It was April 28, 2417. Mateo was staring at them, stunned by their sudden appearance. Leona removed herself from Vearden’s grasp and pushed herself into Mateo’s arms. “Oh my God, it’s so good to see you again!”

“How are you here?”

“Vearden helped me out.”

“I thank you, sir,” Mateo said. “It’s nice to see you again, brother.”

There was a tear or two in Leona’s eyes. “Where are Franka and Séarlas?”

“They’re gone,” Mateo answered sadly. “They’re gone, as you would expect, but they’re safe. I was with them for three years.”

“How?”

Before Mateo had a chance to answer, Makarion strode up in anger. “I had to wait for you for a year! Everyone has superpowers now, and I’m a cockroach ‘cause all I can do is teleport!” He took Vearden by the shoulder.

They found themselves standing in a dark room with cargo lining the walls. “Ugh. I wanted to talk to them some more.”

“You’ll have plenty of time for that in the future-past.” He walked over and picked up a tablet for information. “It’s 2075. Close enough.”

“This is not close enough! I’m trying to get back to Saga before she gets shot, to stop it from happening.”

“Well, I don’t really care. I’m headed for Mars. You can come if you’d like, but don’t touch me.”

“The hell I won’t.” Vearden reached over to turn the tables and take Makarion by the shoulder for once.

The first thing Saga and Baxter could hear after jumping back into the timestream was screaming. They rushed down the hallway and into the room to find Leona Delaney on nothing but a mattress and blankets. She was having trouble getting comfortable, and couldn’t decide whether she wanted to lie down or sit up.

“Oh thank God, you’re back,” Mateo said, one hand on Leona’s neck, and the other suffering a few fractures from her kung fu grip. “They’re coming.”

Saga smiled. Birthing babies was her favorite part of the job. Sure, they weren’t without their complications, but they weren’t about correcting a problem; they were about new life. It reminded her of when her son, Samwise was born. Labor with him only lasted about six hours, and he came out with absolutely no problems. The fact that he was the reincarnation of salmon who had already lived for decades probably meant that the powers that be were protecting him with their magicks, but still, it could have still been more painful. Baxter delivered him, just as he had with Vearden’s daughter, Laura, and just like he was right now with the twins. Was he the delivery doctor for all salmon? Jack of all trades, master of probably all of them too. She missed her partner, Vearden, but knew that they would be reunited one day, and until then, it was nice to be around someone who knew exactly what he was doing, and didn’t really answer to anyone but the emergency.

“It’s almost midnight,” Leona cried while Saga started wiping her forehead with a washcloth. “What happens at midnight? Are my babies gonna just be left here in the middle of the room...all alone?

“It’ll be fine, Mateo said. “It’s not that close to midnight.”

“Shut up, yes it is!”

“We’ll still be here,” Baxter assured her.

“You don’t know that,” Leona argued. “You’re just a salmon.”

“Saga, take out my scheduler.”

Saga removed the little device that contained Baxter’s schedule for the next few appointments, at the most. She held it up in front of Leona, hoping to comfort her.

“Your babies are my patients too, see? I will not leave them, I promise.”

“Okay,” she said. “Okay, okay,” she repeated several more times until another contraction came on and she switched back to yelling.

“Won’t be long now,” Baxter said. “You’ve been taking the prenatal vitamins I gave you, right?”

“Every day,” Mateo answered.

“And you’ve been lying on your left side during your time jumps?”

“Yes,” Mateo said. “Well, for the most part. That hasn’t always been possible.”

“That’s okay, it was just a precaution.”

“Precaution for what?” Leona asked in a panic.

“It’s okay, Miss Delaney. No need to worry.” Baxter was examining Leona’s belly with a diagnostic device. “Everything is perfectly all right. This pregnancy is going to go swimmingly.”

“Okay,” Leona said again, still in a great deal of pain.

“I’m going to place the epidural and spinal injection now, okay?” Baxter said. “It’s going to be a little uncomfortable, but it will help you manage this pain.”

“Is it not too late? I heard it can be too late sometimes.”

“It’s not too late,” Baxter said. “It’s actually the perfect time.” He removed a labor pain gun from his bag as Mateo and Saga were helping Leona stay sitting up. After disinfecting her back, he placed the gun against her spine. With one squeeze of the trigger, both injections were sent in. He let go of the trigger and flipped the release with his thumb. As he slowly removed the gun, the fixation glue formed to hold the epidural catheter in place. “All right, that’s done. You should be feeling better in minutes.”

“Can we lay her back down, doc?” Mateo asked.

“Yes, of course.”

Not twenty minutes later, the first baby was on its way out. Saga looked down and could see little red hairs peeking out during the crowning that clearly did not belong to Leona. She was no longer screaming because Baxter’s pain medicine was the best of all time...literally. After the first baby was all the way out, they noticed something strange. A little hand was wrapped around its heel. His twin sister had no interest in spending any time in the womb without her big brother. “Hold onto the boy!” Baxter ordered.

Saga took the boy in her arms and held him in place while her boss went about delivering the girl. It was too dangerous to try and separate them at this point. An arm-first birth was risky enough, they didn’t need to aggravate them. She tried to whisper, “are you going to have to break her arm?”

Leona heard that. “What? Why would you do that? What’s wrong!”

“Nothing’s wrong,” Baxter said definitively. “It’s an unusual birth, but not one I can’t handle. Just don’t move.” Baxter became laser focused as he gently worked the second little baby out. “She’s entering this world like Supergirl,” he said, trying to lighten the mood. He was right. Only the one arm was on her brother’s leg. The second was down at her side, just as Kara Zor-El was known to fly. If she didn’t know any better, the babies were laughing. They didn’t seem to be upset, or in any discomfort. Even though it was one of the oddest births she had ever been a part of, it really was going well.

“More like Jacob,” Mateo said, making a reference to the bible.

Saga was not Christian, but she certainly had to pretend to be one for a long time because of how tricky life was centuries ago. Saga and Vearden had to remain vigilant, and not draw attention to themselves. She had to fake her faith, and avoid revealing the fact that she wanted nothing more than to just wear pants. She knew of the story of the birth of Jacob and Esau. The former was born immediately after the latter, holding onto his heel as presumed foreshadowing to their quarrelsome lives. Esau had even been born with red hair, which was another interesting coincidence. Due to all this time travel, Saga wondered whether the powers that be were making this happen because of the story in the bible, or whether this event came first, and will ultimately go back to inspire the story.

“Twenty fingers, twenty toes. Two happy and healthy babies,” Saga said.

“Let me hold them,” Leona said with beckoning arms.

They handed Leona’s twins to her one by one.

“She needs water,” Baxter noted.

“There’s some in the other room,” Mateo responded without breaking his gaze at his lovely new children.

“I’ll get it,” Saga said.

“See if you have find some more towels too,” Baxter said as she was walking away.

The door turned out to be a portal that returned her to the island through the little cottage they had built. “Oh, great.”

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