The Advancement of Leona Matic: September 9, 2186

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A Doctor Mallory Hammer showed up when called using her special pager number. Ecrin shook her hand like they were friendly acquaintances, though Mallory obviously had never met her. The pager was designed to pull her from a time after encountering the person making the request, but that feature wasn’t always reliable. She ran the standard battery of tests on Leona, confirming that she was indeed pregnant. She also had advanced instruments that would give more information than even today’s technology could. As far as they could tell, Leona was carrying two genetically healthy babies. If the human doctor had known it was twins, she never said anything. Mallory also possessed a tool that could seek out the father of the children, even across time and space, but it came up with nothing. She said that she had never seen that before; it was like the father didn’t even exist. Paige guessed that it was due to some corruption in reality, but they had no way of detecting that, let alone correcting it.

Mallory did all she could that day, then fitted Leona with a wristband that would monitor her status before, and after her jump into the future, and also any time in between, if there was any at all. Come the next year, the doctor was there, waiting to run some follow-up tests, to make sure the time jumps weren’t having a negative impact on the fetuses.

“How are you holding up?” Mallory asked while listening to Leona’s lungs.

“I just learned I’m pregnant with twins who have no apparent father. I’m not great,” Leona replied.

“Well, there’s one test I’ve not done, because it’s experimental, and not necessarily ethical. It’s been requested before, though, so I feel I need to mention it. I am in no way recommending it, though. It’s important you understand that.”

“I can’t really understand that until I know what it is.”

“That’s fair.” She took a few notes on her tablet before continuing. Then she made a point of facing Leona straight on, and got all serious. “I have the ability to show you what your children will look like in the future.”

“Any time in the future?”

“All times.”

“Would I be able to speak with them?”

“Theoretically.”

“You said you’ve done this.”

“Other patients were too nervous to try actually talking with them. I only bring it up because you’re salmon. Sort of.”

That Leona did understand. “If the father is also salmon, they could be born as choosers, and taken away from me.”

“Yes. Before you answer, I’m sure you realize this might be your only chance to meet them. If they’re not like you, three years will go by like that. Someone else will have to raise them, whether they’re choosers, or not.”

Leona was nodding solemnly. These were good points, but there was something unnatural about meeting an older version of your own kid before they’re even born. Coming across people going different directions in the timestream happened all the time, but this would be very different. In the end, she had to decline the offer, which Mallory seemed relieved to hear.

“Hello?” came a voice from the other room. Then he appeared from around the corner.

“Dr. Sarka?” Mallory asked, surprised to see him, but not bothered.

Baxter wasn’t bothered either. “Dr. Hammer, I was assigned Leona’s case.”

“I came as a favor,” Mallory explained. “I’m not here to step on anyone’s toes.”

“No, it’s quite all right,” Sarka assured her. “Can’t hurt to have three medical professionals.”

Right on cue, a very young Saga Einarsson came through, carrying Sarka’s medical bag.

“Saga?” Leona questioned.

“Oh,” Saga said. “If we meet sometime in my future, be sure not to tell me about it.”

“Yeah, you’re right, I wo—” she stopped herself to work out the math in her head. “Actually, it’s not a problem. You’re the other Saga.”

“There’s more than one of me?”

“Something changed in the past,” Leona explained. “Something big. It rewrote everyone’s history, but a few of us remember. And a few of people actually survived the transition. You and your partner, Vearden were two of those people.”

“I had a partner?” Alt!Saga asked. “With a name like that?”

“I guess you never met in this reality. I guess you’re not even a doorwalker.”

Alt!Saga looked to Sarka, who appeared to know what that meant either. This was the curse of blending one’s brain.

“It’s about to get even more awkward.” Ulinthra was there, Harrison in tow.

“I’m sorry?” Sarka asked, confused.

“Wait,” Ulinthra said. “I timed that wrong. “Restart the conversation, I’ll come back in when you get to the right point.”

An exasperated Leona sighed heavily and loudly. “I thought I was supposed to try to catch you. Why do you keep attacking me?”

“Attack?” Ulinthra was offended. “How is this an attack?”

“Because I don’t want you here. This is a private moment.”

“I understand that, but it concerns me too,” Ulinthra claimed.

“How so?”

“I have been fascinated you since we first met,” Ulinthra began.

“In which reality?” Leona jumped in.

Ulinthra shrugged. “This one. I didn’t quite see what I could as powers. I had excellent intuition, like everything I was experiencing had already come to pass, and I just couldn’t quite remember. Turns out, that’s exactly what was happening. Keep in mind, that’s before I got my brain blended, and figured out how to use my full powers. But you know those movies where the hero meets some random person—often an old gypsy woman?”

“Racist. Where are you going with this?”

“Just be patient,” Ulinthra said. “Wait, is there a reason you three are still here?” She was looking at Mallory, Sarka, and Alt!Saga.

“Harrison, did you have enough time with that gun that that, uhh...security guard uses?”

“Mister Morse?” Harrison confirmed.

“Yes.”

“I believe I did.”

“Shoot them, please.”

“Now, don’t you dare!” Leona tried to fight them, but it was no use. Harrison removed his index finger to reveal the business end of a weapon. He fired a laser at his three targets, and they disappeared.

“Are they in Beaver Haven?” Leona asked, referring to the salmon-chooser prison.

Ulinthra smiled. “I can build my own jails, thank you very much. Now, where was I? Gypsy women, yes. They always give the heroes this weird look—sometimes they’ve been upset by them—but they curse them, or tell them some prophecy. Then the movie continues, and you don’t know for sure if she was the real deal, but then the future comes to pass, and it was, not quite like we all thought.”

“You’re not great with words.”

“You’re not great with your face!” Ulinthra volleyed.

Harrison couldn’t help but smirk. Leona might have an in with him.

“That was wrong of me, I’m sorry. Your face is actually amazing. My point is that I met a sort of gypsy woman when I was very young. I won’t bore you with the details, but I ignored her words at the time, as you’d expect. It wasn’t until I started learning about people with time powers that I suspected she may have been telling the truth.”

“And what was it that she told you?”

“She said that the Daughter of the Lion would be my downfall. That’s why your baby means something to me. She’s going to kill me one day.”

Leona pinched the bridge of her nose like Stan Marsh. “You just said said that the prophecies in those movies never turn out like you thought. Whoever you talked to said this...entity, let’s say, will be your downfall. That doesn’t necessarily mean you’ll die. And it doesn’t necessarily mean she’s my daughter, or even a person. Maybe it’s an actual lion. You can’t know if that’s all you have to go on.”

“Which is why you’re still alive,” Ulinthra said. “I have to know for sure if I’ve subverted that warning.”

“There’s another possibility,” Leona put forth.

“And what’s that?”

“That this person who told you this was nothing more than a charlatan, or mentally unstable. Maybe it means nothing, and the only reason you think it has anything to do with me is because my name means lion. If you had met a pregnant girl with a lion tattoo before me, you’d probably have obsessed over her, and not even given my name a thought.”

“That’s a good point,” Ulinthra said. “I may be freaking out over nothing. Then again, we’re all time travelers. Well,” she said as she was looking at Harrison, like he didn’t matter much. “Except for you.”

“Quite,” Harrison said simply.

“There’s one thing you have to remember, though.” She started walked around to the side of Leona’s bed.

“Oh no. Whatever you’re about to say can’t be good.” Leona was genuinely scared.

Ulinthra took out a knife and held it to Leona’s throat, and whispered into her ear. “I’ve already had this conversation.” She pointed to the corner. “And there’s a camera up there.”

“So what?”

Ulinthra swung her arm away from Leona, and aggressively jammed it into something right behind her. Then she swung the rest of her body around, revealing Paige to be the victim. A violently angry Ulinthra twisted the knife with her one hand, and forced her to her knees, which was something Paige could probably still survive. Her upgrades would keep her alive until she made it to medical attention, but Ulinthra had no intention of letting this happen. She lifted her other hand, and balled it into a fist, engaging a whistling electrical charge. Then she struck Paige right in the forehead, and electrocuted until the energy had reached critical mass, and the gauntlet lost all power.

Ulinthra’s rage was very gradually dissipating as Leona tried very hard to react. She couldn’t, though. She just sat there in fear and disbelief. Ulinthra continued to catch her breath, watching the motionless Paige on the floor, sparks still popping out of her mechanical parts. Then she looked at Leona. “I still don’t know if you planned this. If you somehow coordinated this...attack. I don’t even know why there’s a security camera in your room. But this is good proof that I will do what I must to survive, and keep what is mine. You remember that first reality; the one where I was a killer?”

Leona was unable to answer at first, but did eventually. “I don’t remember you as a serial killer. Horace just told me about you two later.”

“Well, there’s something you might like to know. That wasn’t the first reality. The only person you know who even existed in the first reality was Darko Matic. Are you two related, or something?”

“What?”

“Whatever. My point is that the you have memories of three independent timelines.”

“Right.”

Ulinthra nodded. “Well, I remember all of them. And in most cases, I was worse than you’ll ever know, because if you ever meet that version of Ulinthra...you’ll have no more than five seconds to live.” She started walking out of the room. “Clean that up, Harrison, then shoot Leona to the hock. I’ll see her again next year.”

“Hey, Yuli,” Leona said bravely.

Ulinthra turned back around.

“I don’t know what that fortune teller thought she knew, but I can tell you one thing.”

“Go on.”

“You’ll be dead before my daughter is even born.”

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Missy’s Mission: Only the Beginning (Part XIII)

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Once the bubble was gone, Missy found that she was now inside, alone in a small, dark room, but she could hear a bustle on the other side of a door. They were speaking in a strange tongue, and it took her a hot minute to realize it was the Maramon language. She was doing some spring cleaning last year, and found the universal translator mask stored away. She tied it around her leg like a knee pad, just because, but it started feeling normal, so she had been wearing it like that ever since, and was glad now for the coincidence. She slipped it off her leg, and wrapped it around her head just in time.

A Maramon came into the room, and flipped on the lights. “A human?” she said in her language, but it sounded like English to Missy. She was surprised to see her, but wasn’t angry or violent.

Before Missy could say anything, alarms began to sound throughout whatever facility they were in.

The Maramon looked around at the corners and edges. “No cameras. Those alarms aren’t for you. Are there others here?”

Missy stayed quiet.

The Maramon sighed. “I’m not going to hurt you. My name is Alaha, and I’m kind of a big deal around here. Because of that, I’ve been allowed access to some historical records that most of people don’t even know exist. I even know you’re language, so you won’t need that thing.”

“Where are we?” Missy asked, taking off the mask, knowing that being shy wasn’t going to help her get out of this alive, so she might as well play it cool.

“In your language, you could call it The Crossover. It allows us to—”

Missy interrupted, “travel to other universe. Yes, I’ve heard of it. I’ve known people who’ve been in it.”

“Really? Humans?”

Missy didn’t say anything.

“You’re from the future.”

“How did you guess?”

Alaha appeared to smile, but it was hard to tell with that white monster face. “Time travelers just have this...way about them. They don’t want to disturb people’s worldviews, so they’re quick to caution.”

“I don’t know what time I’m from. I came here on one day, then I went back to the past thousands of years. I don’t know if this is before that, or after the first day, or sometime in between. The first leader I met here was named Junyj. He was a...covfefe.”

Alaha nodded. “Junyj is a child, so if you met him as a leader, you were in the future. If you went thousands of years into the past from there, then that was in the past, from my perspective. Now you’re in between those two points in time. And you never answered my question.”

“I’m not likely alone.”

“All right, stay quiet. Give me a second.” She took a small device from her pocket, and spoke into it. “This is Alaha, report.”

“We found six tertiaries,” came a voice from Alaha’s communicator. “They were with a Maramon we believe disappeared centuries ago.”

“Does six sound right?” Alaha asked Missy, but didn’t receive an answer. “Work with me here, I’m a good guy.”

“Yes,” Missy said, giving in. There are seven of us. We were with Khuweka.”

“Never heard of her.” She went back to her communicator. Take the humans to Command,” she instructed. “And get the Maramon they were with out of the machine. She has no business here.

“Belay that order,” came a third voice on the communicator. “Put them in the hock.”

“Ezqava,” Alaha said, “I want them to speak with Captain Shuhana.”

“That’s not your decision,” Ezqava spat back. “They are a security threat, and I want them isolated.”

“Bring them to me!” came a fourth voice. After a beat, she continued, “Azazil, bring them up to me.”

“Yes! Sir!”

“That goddamn motherfu...” they heard the Maramon who appeared to hold the most power say before trailing off. She must have forgotten to turn the radio off.

“Shuhana is a good person, but she can be unpredictable. There’s nothing we can do for your friends, but if you wait here, I’ll get you something that will let you blend in.”

Missy looked down at her human body, and then gestured towards Alaha’s. Then she scoffed.

This was definitely a smile. “You would be surprised what we can do with our technology.” She left and came back, carrying a sort of white cloak. “We wear these to make us look human when we go to other universes. Just a little reprogramming could do the opposite for you.” She draped it over her arm, and tapped at the wearable computer embedded into the fabric.

Missy then graciously took the cloak from her and put it on.

“Squeeze your collar.”

Missy squeezed it, and could see her body transform. She looked like any other Maramon. “Holy crap.”

“Might be a little unsettling, but hopefully you’ll get used to it. Stick next to me, don’t talk to anyone, and do everything I say. I’ll just tell people you’re my new assistant. Sorry if that’s humiliating, but you need a believable role.”

“It’s fine,” Missy assured her, but she said it the Maramon language, which was the most disquieting part.

They started walking through the winding halls. Other people were moving about as well, too concerned with their own problems to pay attention to the two of them. Missy followed Alaha to another level, where they found what must have been Command. Her friends were all standing there, hands in cuffs. Of course they didn’t recognize Missy in this form, and she couldn’t say anything to them. One of the Maramon was looking them over, like cattle at a livestock auction. “What universe are you from?”

“We have no designation for it,” Dar’cy answered.

“Hmm...” the Marmon said.

“That’s Captain Shuhana,” Alaha whispered to Missy.

“If you had to describe it to someone from a different universe, what would you say?”

“We have no frame of reference...except that your kind isn’t there.”

“That’s not entirely true,” Dubravka couldn’t help but say.

“What was that?” Shuhana asked, side-stepping over to face Dubra. “Speak!”

Dubra hesitated, but felt threatened. “We come from your parent universe. We are your gods!”

Shuhana laughed. “We don’t believe that anymore.” She continued to inspect her prisoners. “Well...most of us, anyway. Fine specimen you seven, however.”

“Seven? Sir?” one of the Maramon asked.

“Yes,” Shuhana replied. She lifted her hand, and pointed right at Missy without even looking. “That’s one of them too.”

Alaha closed her eyes in defeat. “Dammit.”

“You know better, Miss Adonai,” Shuhana said to Alaha. “I designed those cloaks. I can smell ‘em. I appreciate the effort, though. You have shown a care for the humans that I did not expect, not even from you. Had you come across the other six, instead of Azazil, this would have turned out differently. They might have been able to leave without us ever knowing.” She turned back to the rest of Missy’s people. “I’m afraid I can’t let that happen. Now that I know you’re here, I can’t risk you going out there with all those petulant civilians. Alaha, you’ve obviously already found your shadow. Please take that ridiculous thing off her body, though. The rest of you are going to need escorts as well. You’re free to explore most of the machine, but you can’t go anywhere alone.” She approached Savitri. “We’ll start with you. I think you would get along with...” She tapped her lips in thought. “Jakira Jeriesdi. Jakira! She cried out, still facing Savitri. “Oops, sorry, too loud.” She turned away, and tried again, “Jakira, get in here.”

Jakira appeared, hanging down from a crawl space in the ceiling. She was wearing a pair of steampunk goggles. “Yes, boss?”

“Protect this one with your life.”

“I’ve gotta do repairs on the primary hyperdimensional oscillator.”

“Great, she’s got two hands. She can help with that. Alaha, go with them. Make sure things don’t get too dangerous. I need to assign the rest of these people.”

Missy and Savitri tried to remain calm as they were watching Jakira work. Alaha had to leave after a couple hours to deal with some trouble Azazil was apparently brewing up. She said Jakira would be able to handle it on her own, which seemed to be the case. She didn’t ask for any help, leaving the two humans to carry on a conversation.

“What the hell happened?”

“Us? What happened to you, you ran,” Savitri accused.

“I know, I’m sorry. I just saw that...whatever it was, fall to the ground, and reacted. I don’t want my powers back. To be honest, I’m not sure whether they did, or didn’t, come back. I feel different than I ever have before. I feel...”

“Stronger?” Savitri suggested. “Me too. All of us, actually. There may be an explanation for that. The room we landed in wasn’t empty when Dar’cy jumped us here. I don’t even know what the Maramon was gonna do; whether he would help us, like your little friend, or if he was planning to turn us in. He didn’t get a chance to do anything...before Avidan killed him.”

“Avidan? What? How?”

“He rippled him apart.”

“You mean, like...”

“Like Lucius, yeah. Avidan has Lucius’ time power. Before that other Maramon found us, Khuweka explained that that powder contained Serif’s blood, along with some other ingredients. I don’t know how they made it, or why, but it’s chock full of those nano things that allow Serif to heal people with her breath. It was supposed to give us our powers back, but I think we all breathed in too much.”

“So we may have all switched powers with each other?” Missy asked.

“I don’t know,” Savitri said, shaking her head. “Maybe. Maybe it was a fluke, but Lucius was certain he didn’t ripple that monster, and Avidan was certain he did. We didn’t have much time to discuss it before all of this.”

Missy thought this over. If it was true, it needed to be tested. She never wanted her powers back, and definitely never wanted anyone else’s too. But if she had no choice, then she had to at least understand it. And who knows? Maybe they could be used to protect herself from The Cleanser, which was all she really wanted all along. “See that big pillar thing over there?” Missy asked, pointing down the way.

“Yeah?”

Missy loosened herself, and concentrated on the spot on the floor just in front of the pillar. She drew in a breath, and let it out slowly. Then she clicked her tongue, which was something Curtis said he had to do when he was learning to control his power as a kid. It worked. She suddenly teleported about twenty meters away.

“Whoa!” Savitri shouted up to her. She stiffened up as well, and before Missy could protest, she tried to teleport too. She only traveled about a meter, and in the opposite direction, but it was something.

Maybe the new powers would wear off at some point, but if not, Savitri needed to not use them. “Don’t do that! You could run into a wall, or worse!”

Jakira crawled back out from under some piece of machinery. “What’s goin’ on? Get back over here!” she ordered.

“Relax!” Missy said, carelessly preparing to lean against this glowing wall next to the pillar. “It’s fine.”

“Don’t touch that!” Jakira warned, but it was too late.

Missy had her hand on the glowing wall, instantly scared it might burn her skin, but it was actually freezing cold; so cold that she was frozen to its surface, and couldn’t let go.

Jakira ran over to her, but Savitri beat her to Missy with a quick crash course in teleporting. “Mom, let go!” she screamed, which was the first time she ever called her that. She tugged at Missy’s other shoulder.

“I can’t.” The wall, or rather the mechanism behind the wall began revving up like a gigantic wind turbine. The glow increased, and it somehow became even colder, until her arm felt completely numb. Missy lifted her free arm, and pointed it out the wall, hoping to destroy the thing by Lucius’ power of molecular teleportation. The energy she sent towards it only seemed to make the machine even stronger. The glow burned hotter, and started spreading across the room. She tried to get away from the wall again, and was successful this time. Unfortunately, she left her whole arm behind, all the way up to her shoulder. It was still there, frozen in place.

“My God,” Savitri gasped. She too tried to use some power against the machine, but this only made it stronger yet.

“It’s overloading,” Jakira exclaimed, starting to back away. “Run!”

But it didn’t matter. The light was too bright to keep their eyes open, and a sudden wind thrust Missy off her feet, but in one second, it was all gone. She reopened her eyes, and saw literally nothing, except for Savitri floating next to her, and Jakira floating a few meters away. They were in an endless, near lightless void. She couldn’t breathe, but didn’t seem to need to. It was like outer space, but without the stars, or the vacuum. She realized she was slowly drifting away from Savitri, and couldn’t get back to her. Something was pulling them in opposite directions, faster and faster. As quickly as they had come, she left the void. She was standing in the middle of a field, along with a bunch of human strangers. They all looked like the wind had been knocked out of them.

“Is everyone okay?” a man asked. “My name is Detective Dimitri Orion! Can someone tell me where in the world we are?”

A man stepped forward proudly. “We’re not in our world. We...are in another universe.” Not another one.

“Oh my God!” a young man yelled. “She’s lost her arm. You tore off her arm!” he accused.

They all looked at Missy, who was dizzy from the pain, and could only focus on the treeline in the distance. Instinct took over, and she teleported her to it. Then she collapsed, and lost consciousness.

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Microstory 875: Forensic Countermeasures

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The first thing I see when I get back home is yellow tape blocking my way in. I slip under it, and open my door, only to find a huge mess. At first I think someone broke into my house while I was gone, but I also see bloodstains on the floor, so it’s even worse than I thought. I was gone for a whole month, but I don’t have any pets or plants, so there was no need for anyone to be in here. I’ve been trying to sell the place, but I’m not using an agent, so I paused my listing while I was in Japan. Worried about disturbing a crime scene, I step right back out onto the porch, and call the police. After some waiting, they finally connect me with the detective assigned to a recent murder. She tells me to stay put, then drives up a half hour later to give me the details. No one was killed on the premises, it would seem, but the killer did dump the remains, and all the other evidence, inside my home for two separate murders. I have a hard time expressing my concern for the matter. I watch a lot of violence on TV, and while it’s not made me violent myself, it has desensitized me to death and destruction. I’m upset that this is going to make it harder to sell the place, but I don’t have the same look of horror on my face as I gather this detective is used to. Even without contacting me while I was on my trip, though, they ruled me put as a suspect, so she doesn’t push me too hard. She leaves, and I try to move on with my life. I hire cleaners, and put the house back up on the website.

Two weeks later, I’m still struggling with the sale, when it happens again. No bodies this time, but I wake up to find bloody rags, frightening sharp instruments that I can’t name, and jars of what I guess to be highly corrosive acid. I review the footage on my door cams, and see the perp. I actually know him, he lives two blocks over. But I also see myself, sleepwalking down the stairs. I pass right by the guy as he’s planting the evidence. He just stops and watches me, but gets back to work when he realizes I’m no threat to him. I can’t show this tape to the cops; they’ll never believe that I wasn’t awake. It’s something that happened to me more often when I was a child, but it hasn’t been a problem for a long time, and I can’t prove it. Like a fool, I just gather the evidence that night, and drive it back to his place, planting it in his kitchen, with plans to call in an anonymous tip from a payphone the next day. Out of caution, I sit guard on the stairs all night, in case he gets any bright ideas, I must have dozed off at some point, because I wake up to it all again, but this time he’s left the stuff next inside my backdoor. I try again that night, but he sneaks in yet again. That does it. I drive right over to the guy’s house, and bang on the door. After he answers, he looks around the neighborhood to make sure no one’s watching, then he ushers me inside. “Why do you keep doing that?” he asks me. “We agreed to keep all our stuff at your place since my old parole officer moved to town. You’ve already been cleared, dude...don’t ruin what we have. And why the hell are you trying to sell your house?”

Microstory 874: Translucent Government

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All human skin is translucent. Don’t believe me, just shine a flashlight under your finger, and you’ll be able to see it peeking through. But last century, doctors began to see children with an incredibly rare condition that makes their skin several times more translucent that it’s meant to be. While not entirely transparent, you can see the insides of their bodies; bones, muscle tissues, and the hint of their vital organs. You might think it would freak you out, but you get used to it after awhile. I don’t agree with everything our government does, but if I didn’t do my job, things would be so much worse. I’ve always believed this, but now I see how frighteningly true it is. Fearing for these children’s lives, they are taken from their families upon being discovered, and raised in a secret facility. I don’t even know where it is. When they recruited me twenty years ago, they gave me a sedative, and flew me out somewhere in the world. I stay with the kids underground. I’ve not seen the sun once this entire time, and the kids go their whole young lives before seeing it...or so I thought. When they turn eighteen, I was told they were sent to live in a special forest commune. They could theoretically rejoin society if they wanted to, but the rumor has always been that this never happens, because they’ve grown up isolated, and don’t know how to live any other way. Well, as it turns out, this has all been a lie. The day after their respective birthdays, the government has just been executing what I now realize were always just prisoners; under the thin protection of some moral obligation to wait until they reach the age of majority. What they don’t realize—or purposely ignore—is that if they raise these kids in captivity, then kill them when they become an age some countries arbitrarily decide make them adults, they aren’t actually adults, because they didn’t live real lives, so they never matured. I’ve done my best with them, but I’m angry with myself for not having recognized what was happening all along. But that ends today. After all this time of proving my loyalty, there’s no way they’ll suspect I’m now working against them. Tonight, I escape...with all of them.

Microstory 873: Frenemies

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I have this list; this list of people that I’ve grown to hate over the years, for varying reasons. Some were bullies in grade school, others were annoying coworkers, and a few were racist neighbors. I have a whole section for celebrities who’ve pissed me off, so I can keep track of which movies I’m allowed to like, and which ones need to be quietly boycotted. I don’t know why I started this list, or what I planned on doing with it. I know that I never had any intention to hurt these people, or confront them in any way. I think I just needed to remind myself that I’ve struggled, and that there are people out there who done me wrong. Of course, the list is completely private; I wouldn’t want anyone getting the wrong idea about it. I do own a gun, but only for protection, and I keep it well locked up. Not once have I considered using it to harm others, which is something I feel the need to be crystal clear about. The list has always been saved on my computer, but then this startup offers new customers thirty gigabytes of free cloud storage. I’ve never trusted the cloud, just like I don’t really trust banks with my money. Still, I have a bank account where I keep the majority of my money, so I figured security would be just as good for this. I signed up, and began transferring all of my files, except for the extremely sensitive documents, like my special list. Once it’s finished, the cloud system says that it’s scanning for other folders, even though I specifically told it which ones I wanted it to have, and which ones I didn’t. Before I can stop it, it’s taken everything off my computer, and I start getting suspicious. There are some...uh, videos there that I wanted to keep separated. They take up too much space, and I don’t need to risk some Silicon Valley nerd seeing it. I didn’t read through the Terms of Service and Privacy Policy, obviously, since I’m not a crazy person.

Nothings happens right away, but I’m already scared, so I reverse course, and delete all my files from the service. I still can’t help but think that the damage has been done. When you delete something from a harddrive, it doesn’t actually go away. It just puts a little sticky note there that says it’s cool to override it with something else later. How do remote servers work? Are they the same, or are they worse? Is that shit saved forever? I close my computer, and try to forget about it. About a week later, I see this social media notification that says one of my “friends” is interested in going to an event near me. He’s the only person I’m connected with online who’s also on my list, and that’s because I didn’t realize how much I disliked him until he had already requested friendship. I see him every day at work, so I can’t remove him until one of us leaves the job. The event is called Noctilucent Mixer, which is just a weird name for anything. I run a quick search in my brain’s memory archives from seventh grade, and I recognize the word to be a species of cloud. Now that is suspicious. I try to click on the event, but I’m completely locked out of it. That’s even stranger, because if you’re throwing a mixer, then you don’t want to limit yourself to the few people you remember to invite. I ask my irritating coworker if he’ll invite me to it, but the system doesn’t let him do that. Still, he gives me the address of the party, so I make plans to go.

I get an unsettling vibe as I’m pulling up to the airport hotel, so I park in the lot for the restaurant next door, and sneak around back. I peer into the window of the ballroom, and the first thing I see is this woman who lived in my neighborhood before I moved a few years ago. We were both walking our dogs one time, and happened to be going the same direction, which caused her dog to bark, and her to flip out at me about “following them around”. It’s like, train your dog better, lady. Mine’s totally chill. Anyway, I look around at the other partygoers, casually standing around with drinks, and realize that I know every single one of them. They are all on my list. I might have written it off as a freak coincidence, but even the celebrities are here. We’re in Idaho, so there’s no way that they didn’t have to fly out for this. This right here proves that cloud storage is unsecure. It read my list, and did this with it, whatever the hell exactly this is. I’m frozen. I don’t know whether I should run away, or crash the party. Before I can decide, a man walks up wearing a shirt from the company that was supposed to store my files without looking at them. He’s pointing my own gun at me. “We were worried that you wouldn’t show up,” he says as he’s forcing me away from the building. “You really shouldn’t write the code to your safe anywhere. You should just keep it in your head.” Then he takes something out of his pocket, and pushes a button. The ballroom explodes, sending me crashing into the taillight of a car. He tosses the detonator to the ground next to me, along with my gun. “You should probably run.”

Microstory 872: Equipathy

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My mother grew up on a farm, and had two horses when she was younger. I can’t recall their names, but I remember her telling me stories of them getting to know each other, and about all the shenanigans they would get into together. I’ve always loved horses, even though boys are supposed to be more into monster trucks, and...like, blowing stuff up, I guess. I hate big cities. They’re noisy and there are too many people, and you can’t see the stars. I don’t much like the country either, though. Everything is too spread out, and it takes too long to get places. I much prefer the suburbs, which is where my family lives now. The only thing I don’t like about it is that I can’t keep a horse. If our backyard had access to some extra spatial dimension that would add acres and acres of space, I would have asked for a horse a long time ago. It’s my sixteenth birthday, and instead of getting me a car, though, my parents finally fulfill my most precious dream. They buy me a horse, which I didn’t think was possible. As it turns out, if you head due East, which I never do, because there’s nothing there, then you don’t have to drive very far before reaching more open land. On the very edge of town is a little farm apparently known for taking in stray animals of all kinds. Pigs, ducks, llamas, goats, dogs, cats, and of course, my wonderful horses. The owner agreed to keep my new horse on his property, and charge me discounted stable fees. I can go ride and take care of him whenever I want, but I have to be able to do it often, because he’s now my responsibility. I’ve also been asked to spend a little extra time helping out with the other animals. I agree to this deal completely, because why wouldn’t I?

I try to name my new horse Satchel, but I immediately get the feeling that he doesn’t like that, and prefers to be called Estenavorissegabaladon, which he claims means flying water in his language. I don’t know why I made up that word in my head; I’m not a particularly creative individual. I’ve always been better at math; real math, by the way, not this new math. After some coaxing—fully aware that I’m not actually communicating with an animal—he agrees to let me shorten his name to Tenavori. I start off slowly with him, but even though I’ve only ever ridden on a few family vacations, he makes me feel like an expert. We’re completely in sync that it’s almost like I don’t have to do anything. He’s leading the way, and I’m just along for the ride. You’re gonna have to buy me a few more carrots for a real ride, he says. But he doesn’t say it. He sends the thought straight to my brain. But he can’t have done that either, because that’s ridiculous, he’s a horse. Then he says, a horse is a horse, of course, of course, and no one can talk to a horse, of course; that is, of course, unless the horse is me, bitch! What the hell is going on? I don’t say that word, so why am I thinking it? I don’t know that you can think at all, Tenavori says with a laugh, and I see snot shoot out of his nose. Okay, that’s freaky. “Can you understand me?” I ask. If you’re trying to talk to me, don’t say it out loud, he instructs me. I basically hear feedback and static. Just...think it. I stay quiet, and try to project my thoughts. He starts dancing according to my instructions, to outwardly prove that he’s the real deal. To the left, take it back now y'all. One hop this time, right foot, let’s stomp. Left foot, let’s stomp. Cha cha, real smooth. Turn it out, to the left. Oh my God, this horse is even better than I thought. We do a little bit more funky dressage before I decide it’s time do what horses and riders do best. We start racing over the prairie, and through the woods. For a moment, he’s going so fast, it almost looks like he’s running over the river. All the while, we talk. I complain about high school, and he tells me about how horseshoes actually do hurt, but he knows it’s all just in his head. It is the greatest feeling in the world. I’ve never been able to make good friends with humans, and now I don’t have to anymore. It’s getting late, and I have to go back home. But tomorrow, we ride again, headed due East...and we’re never coming back.

Microstory 871: Pearl of Folly

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A few years back, I visited my sister, who was working as an ELL teacher in Ecuador. While there, she suggested I learn how to scuba dive, which she had gotten into when she first arrived. I did extremely well in the class, easily grasping the mathematical components, and safety concepts, so I was confident in my abilities. What I discovered during the swimming pool portion of the course, however, was that I had some kind of breathing issue. At first, I thought I was panicking, because while my allergies have always made breathing through my nose difficult, scuba diving requires mouth-breathing, so it didn’t make sense. I went back home ashamed, and booked an appointment with the doctor right away, only to learn that I also had asthma. There was medicine I could take, and an inhaler, but the doctor couldn’t promise I would ever be able to dive. I wasn’t satisfied with that answer, so I became determined to figure out how to do it, even if that meant finding some workaround. I bought a snorkel, and started training myself in the pool in my apartment complex. It wasn’t quite the same, but it was unrealistic to buy full equipment if this wasn’t going to work out. Summer was coming to a close, though, so I needed to try my hand at the real thing one more time. I bought the best of the best gear, and drove out to the lake. I obviously shouldn’t have gone out there alone, uncertified, but this was something I felt I needed to do on my own. A few seconds underwater, and I was already having just as much trouble as I had before. This wasn’t working. All that time I spent at the pool—and all the money I spent on the gear—had been a complete waste. No, I thought to myself. This can work, but I have to take the training wheels off, and remove the safety net. I decided to just go for it, and head straight for the bottom.

I am freaking out on the way down, but resolute. When my whole family meets in Costa Rica in a few months, I have to prove that I’ve gotten over my issues. I keep kicking my feet until I can see the floor, along with something shiny peeking out from under a rock. Suddenly my breathing problems go away, and I feel as comfortable as I do on land. I keep going until I reach the treasure. It looks like a pearl, but it’s huge. I don’t know if I’ve ever heard of one being this large, but I’m no expert. I scoop it up to make sure it’s not just a sparkly rock. As soon as my hand touches the stone—or whatever it is that pearls are—I get a vision. I see a meteoroid strike the surface of the Earth, killing all the dinosaurs in the immediate area. Time passes quickly, and I witness a plant grow from the impact site. It spreads its seed far and wide, until it’s rooted all over the globe. The plants can somehow communicate with one another, which allows them to release some kind of toxic gas that kills nearly all life on the planet. It is the most horrifying thing I’ve seen in my life. The vision ends, and the pearl begins to crumble away, like a small piece of soap in the bathwater. Only then do I realize that the water above is rushing towards me, draining impossibly fast down the little hole I created when I removed the pearl. In only a matter of minutes, I’m crouched on a dry lake bed, still breathing through my regulator. Something green appears through the hole, and grows larger. A plant shoots out so quickly that I fall to my back. I scramble to get my mask off, and find that there are already two plants sitting right next to each other. They each release a seed, each one of which lands a few meters away in either direction. Then all the plants do the same thing over again. And again and again and again. I take off my flippers and run towards the car, but I know that it doesn’t matter. This is how the world ends, and I’m the one who causes it.

The Advancement of Leona Matic: September 8, 2185

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Ulinthra wasn’t lying when she said she could meet her friends back on the beach. What she failed to say, however, was that this would not happen until the next day. Which meant Paige, Brooke, and Ecrin were forced to spend that entire year still locked up. They weren’t sure whether there was some underlying strategy behind this, or if it was nothing more than Ulinthra’s plan to keep them agitated, and off balance.

Not much had happened that the prisoners learned about in the time between. One thing they knew was that Israel was still fighting, but were receiving no military aid from any of the larger class cities. Ulinthra and her people were keeping the smaller classes hostage, threatening to destroy one every day they encountered military opposition beyond Israel’s own forces. The rest of the E-class and below arcities had fallen into a rhythm, with most of their everyday business going unchanged. They could no longer travel to other cities, be it the ones controlled by the Arianation, or not. This was becoming a less common practice anyway, as people were spending more and more time in virtual worlds. Of course, the worlds they now had access to were isolated from those of the rest of the world, and carefully monitored for any dissenting voices. All in all, though, the Ulinthra wasn’t actually doing anything with her subjects. She wasn’t using them for forced labor, she wasn’t executing her enemies in public, she wasn’t instituting unreasonable laws. Besides keeping them all separate from each other, it would seem she mostly just wanted to put her name on everything.

And her name wasn’t Ulinthra, according to what most people understood about her. Drawing inspiration from the land they were in, The Forger gave her the new identity of Arianrhod, who was the goddess of time in ancient Celtic belief. It was not at all culturally, or linguistically, related to the Aryan Nation made famous by white supremacists modeling their ideals partly on Adolf Hitler’s Nazi movement. While the Arianation’s plans seemed to include far less cruelty and violence as the Holocaust did, it was also insidious, and underestimated by the world’s leadership. It was only going to get worse from here.

“What is the safest place for us right now?” Leona asked, knowing that not all news spread to her friends while they were locked up.

“Kansas City,” Paige said. “If all other arcities fell to Ulinthra’s forces, Kansas City would still be standing.”

“Why is that? Just because it got started there?”

“That,” Brooke began, “and because it’s being secretly protected by choosing ones, and some salmon. Ulinthra is aware of this, and won’t go near it.”

“Then that’s where we should be,” Leona said.

“I would think you would want to go after her,” Ecrin thought.

Leona nodded. “I do, but not today. We need to regroup, and you need to enjoy your freedom.”

“Well, there is no way for us to get to Kansas before your day is up,” Paige explained. “Planes are grounded, the transcontinental vactrain network is shutdown, and Brooke couldn’t teleport, even if we had a teleporter.”

“What happened to your necklace, Brooke?”

“Ulinthra stole it, as you would expect.”

“I guess we just have to steal one the the Arianation’s jets,” Leona suggested, like it wasn’t any bigger of a deal than having to go to one of the few restaurants open on Sundays.

“Oh, is that it?” Ecrin asked sarcastically.

“I can hack into the systems, Brooke can fly. Ecrin, I’m sure you have experience with this sort of thing, what with your centuries as a secret agent.”

“I wasn’t always an agent,” Ecrin responded. “Yes, I do have some experience with this; emphasis on the some. I retired long before this level of technology, though.”

“And we are not what we once were,” Paige added.

Brooke continued, “some of our upgrades have been...downgraded.”

“Does that mean you’re gonna die?”

“We were never running at a hundred percent, Leona,” Paige told her. “People like us need to be around the right technology, so we can receive replacement parts, and software updates. We spent a lot of time isolated on The Warren, and on Durus, which would be like you living in the middle ages. We were barely scraping by before Ulinthra got her hands on us.”

“So she made it worse, which is all the more reason for us to get out of here, and get you back to working order. We absolutely must return to Kansas City.” When no one else said anything, Leona went on, “guys, we can’t stay in Panama. We can either swim, walk, or drive. Or we can take our chances, and fly.”

“We should drive,” Brooke said, having been thinking it over.

“I was kidding,” Leona said. “I mean, that would work for you, but it would take more than a day, which means I can’t go with you.”

“We don’t drive to Kansas City. We drive to Colombia, and then we fly to Kansas City. Colombia is a Class C-1 arcstate. It should only take eight or nine hours.”

“If we want to get out of this country fast, we should first take the water,” Ecrin said. “It would be easier to steal a car than a plane, but still not easy.”

“But it would be easy to steal a boat?”

Ecrin smirked. “Who said anything about a boat?” She lifted the leg of her shorts, and started pressing on subdermal buttons embedded in her thighs. “Intentional obsolescence. This tech is so old, the Arianation’s instruments don’t even read them as transhumanistic.” She put her shorts back down, and looked out across the water. Moments later, a submarine surfaced.

“Whoa.”

“Perks of being richer than God,” Ecrin noted.

“I guess we are swimming, a little bit.” Leona laughed.

The four of them started wading into the water, but before the waves even reached their torsos, the sub exploded. The blast was enough to knock them all back into the tide. They just sat there on the sand, watching the fire burn as the twisted metal sank into the depths. Then they could hear the sound of footsteps approaching from behind. A grimacing Ulinthra walked up and admired her work. She pointed a scanner at Ecrin, and recalibrated it in realtime. “Very interesting. We’ll update our software to account for that level of tech. Thanks for pointing out a flaw for us.”

“You knew about my sub the whole time?” Ecrin questioned.

“No,” Ulinthra said, “just for a day.” She addressed her guards, “get Miss Cabral into surgery right away. Remove that thing from her leg, and any other tech you find. Scan the others more carefully. Let this be a warning,” Ulinthra said as Ecrin was fighting off her captors. “I don’t want you leaving the country.”

“What do you want?” Leona hissed. “From us, that is?”

“I want you to fight, not hide.”

“And I want you to go to hell!” Ecrin screamed as the guards were gagging her.

“That’s not necessary,” Ulinthra said to them. “If her screams hurt your ears, then just turn your sensors down.”

“How did you know about the sub?” Leona asked, drawing nearer threateningly.

“I found out about it yesterday, when you used it to escape.”

“Yesterday, but we—” Leona stopped herself. “But you don’t have that power anym—” She stopped again. “Are you reliving every day twice, memories intact?”

“I am.”

“Blending brains doesn’t give you powers from alternate realities. Or at least...I didn’t think it did.”

“Normally, it doesn’t, but mine was a special case. My power is all about the consciousness, and remembering things I shouldn’t, so when the Warrior restored those memories, everything came with it.”

“But that didn’t happen to Horace,” Leona pointed out.

“Didn’t it?” Ulinthra began to turn and walk away. “Are you sure?”

Leona slipped off her shirt once Ulinthra had disappeared over the hill. “Take off your clothes. Every shred. Scan each other for surveillance bugs. Go to the atomic level, if you have to. I want to remove every possible advantage she might have over us.”

They removed all their clothing, and burned it, along with the rest of their possessions. They then went back to the arcology to shop for replacements. Back in Leona’s day, walking around naked in public would have not only been strange, but illegal. Over time, though, society had matured. There was a distinct difference between indecent exposure, and just regular exposure. No one batted an eye.

When they were done and fully clothed, Leona and Brooke went down to the medical facilities to get Ecrin back. She was perturbed by having been violated like that, but not particularly upset about losing the body tech itself. She kept her head down as Brooke pushed her wheelchair down the hall, into the elevator, and up to the temporary housing block that Paige had secured for them. She managed to get them a four-room unit, even though they would only need three most of the time. Only when she saw her bed did Leona realize how tired she was. She announced her intentions, then fell onto the bed, and found some sleep.

She woke up from the smell of dinner. Ecrin was cooking cultured burgers for them, using a stove. She didn’t even touch the food synthesizer. The smell seemed pleasant at first, but the closer she got to the kitchen, the worse it became, until she was overcome with the need to throw up again. Something was really wrong with her. Brooke held her hair out of the toilet, but once she was done, it was Paige who lifted her up over her shoulder, and started carrying her out of the room. “You’re going to the infirmary.”

Leona didn’t argue.

All of her friends sat with her in the room while they waited for the doctor to perform the necessary tests, all of which could be done much faster than they could in the early 21st century. “Is there any news I could tell you that you would want me to give in privacy?”

Leona looked at her people, and decided that there wasn’t anything she wasn’t willing to let them hear. “No.”

“You are seven weeks pregnant.”

Leona took a deep breath. “Not to diminish your expertise, or your instruments, but that’s not possible.”

“I assure you that the tests are quite accurate. You are exactly fifty-one days pregnant.”

“I’m sorry, but I can’t be. I haven’t had sex with a man in years.”

“Well, for you, a year is—” Ecrin tried to say.

“Years for me,” Leona interrupted. “It’s been years, from my perspective.”

“Did you spend time in stasis?” the doctor asked.

Leona shook her head. “No. I’ve only been with Serif this whole time, there’s just no way.”

“It’s the PTB,” Paige said.

“Do they make people pregnant?”

The doctor became concerned. “Who are the PTB? Did they force you to do something? Did they perform experiments on you?”

“Please leave,” Leona demanded, not in the mood for politeness.

“I’ve never heard of it,” Paige answered once the doctor was gone, “but it’s conceivable. Téa, Aura, and Samsonite were all reincarnated into new bodies that looked exactly the same as their old ones. So the powers must have the ability to deliberately insert a person’s DNA into a mother, at some point in the reproductive process.”

Leona faced the ceiling, but closed her eyes. “Goddammit.”

“It’s...” Brooke began carefully. “It’s still early enough. You’re not, uhh...Catholic, or anything.”

“What if this is my mother?”

“Huh?”

“What if I’m carrying my mother in my womb, or the next Savior.”

“Étude is the last Savior,” Ecrin said, confused.

“I know...just. I have more people to consider than just me. Like you said, those three were reincarnated to new parents, one of them as my brother in an alternate reality. I can’t just...ignore that.”

“Leona, this is your choice. No one has the right to make it for you.”

“It’s not that simple, not in our world. My baby...may not be my baby, but they may be a time traveler, and if that’s the case, they’ve already had an impact on history. I couldn’t stop it, even if I wanted to.”

Her friends were silent.

Leona took a breath.

Finally, Paige spoke up again. “You can’t raise a child unless that child is born exactly like you, and manifests that trait immediately.”

“I know. I know!”

“Let’s get the doctor back in here and explain your situation, so she can continue to treat you throughout the years,” Paige offered. “She’ll need to run more tests next year so we can understand how your time jumps affect the pregnancy.”

“No,” Ecrin disagreed. “There’s no need to bring a human into this. I know someone who can help. I’m gonna need a cell phone, or a pager.”

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