Source Variant: Hat Tricks (Part IV)

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After Vearden!Two healed fully from his injuries, he opened a door to grab a snack from the kitchen, and found himself two hundred years in the future. Saga!Three and Zektene followed a few hours later when they were searching for him throughout the Maramon lab. Ramses was left in the past, and whatever had happened to him in the last couple centuries, he was no longer in the facility. There was no evidence that he died here alone, so perhaps he decided to leave.

“What are we doing back here?” Saga!Three asks.

“I don’t know,” Vearden!Two admits. “I can sometimes walk through a door on purpose, but I wouldn’t have in this case. The powers that be created that one. We have to figure out why, I guess.”

“It surely has something to do with the Gondilak,” Zektene assumes. “We need to find out what they’ve been up to all this time; how they’ve developed.”

“We won’t be able to get very close,” Saga!Three warns them. “Seeing a clearly intelligent species that doesn’t look anything like them could seriously disrupt their culture, especially at this early stage in their development.”

“Maybe we could dress up like them?” Vearden!Two suggests.

“You mean, like makeup?”

“Yeah,” Vearden!Two says. “Have you seen what some makeup artists can do? They’re amazing.”

“Yeah, you’re right,” Saga!Three agrees. “So let’s open a door, and find one of them. We’ll have to make sure they have the right equipment. We’ll tell them it’s for the Gondilak, and since they know what Gondilak are, they’ll know exactly which colors to use.”

“Okay, well, you don’t have to be snarky about it.”

“Sorry, it’s just...it would be a good idea if we had all the resources we needed, but we’re pretty limited here.”

“I can help with that.” A woman they don’t recognize suddenly appears before them, right where they had heard her voice.

“Hello,” Vearden!Two greets her. “You can make us invisible?”

“I can,” the woman confirms. “Sometimes you’ll want to be invisible, and sometimes you’ll want to look like a, uhh...”

“Gondilak,” Zektene assists.

“Gondilak,” she echoes. “I can give you the ability to do either one.”

“Great,” Saga!Three says. “I assume you know who we are, but we don’t know who you are.”

“Actually, I don’t know her.” The woman indicates Zektene.

“Hi, I’m Zektene. I’m from another universe.”

“Oh, cool. I’m Alyssa McIver. I work primarily with Mateo and Leona Matic, but many centuries in the past.”

“How many centuries?”

“You wanna know what year it is,” Alyssa guesses.

“By the human calendar,” Vearden!Two says. “Yes.”

“Which humans?”

“On Earth,” Saga!Three specifies.

“I’m kidding. I knew what you meant. It’s three-six-four-zero by the calendar you’re familiar with.” Hm, that’s interesting. They must start a new calendar sometime in the future. Alyssa looks around. “I have four hats.”

“Oh, fun.” Saga!Three says, not sure what that has to do with anything, but wanting to be understanding. “Do you like hats?” That might have been a little condescending.

“That wasn’t a non sequitur,” Alyssa claims. “The hats will give you my ability to create illusions.”

“Oh, okay.” Saga!Three takes a beat. “Oh, you probably mean Ramses. Yeah, he’s not here. We don’t know what happened to him.”

Alyssa removes a notepad from her back pocket. It was the same brand that Vearden!Two remembers Mateo always using to keep track of the people he encountered on his travels. She flips back and forth through it, looking for the right page. “Vearden!Two. Saga!Three. Ramses Abdulrashid. One other unnamed individual, that’s probably you.” She points at Zektene with both hands, still attached to her notepad.

“I hope he’s okay,” Saga!Three says, concerned.

“Is he salmon?” Alyssa questions.

“He’s human. I think.”

“Then the powers that be have no control over his movements.” Alyssa scratches his name out of her notes.”

“Well, they have no control over me,” Zektene points out, “but I’m here.”

“Lucky you.” She removes a hat from her bag, and hands it to her. “You look like a cowgirl.”

Zektene takes the hat and shrugs.

Alyssa takes out one of those brown helmet things ancient Europeans used to wear when they went off to explore Africa. She hands that to Saga!Three, and then gives Vearden!Two a mask.

“A baklava?” he asks with a funny face.

Alyssa shakes her head. “No.”

“These are gonna turn us into Gondilak?” Zektene asks.

“Yes, they operate on psychic energy, so when you need to change forms, just think about it. You could theoretically look like whatever you wanted, as long as you have a good enough idea of what it looks like, and it already exists somewhere, at some time. You couldn’t, for instance, make yourself look like a taco that poops ice cream, because that’s completely made up. My power is still time-based, like all others. All you’re doing is taking someone from another point in spacetime, and making it look like they’re standing in the same point you are.”

They nod. It makes perfect sense. It’s weird, there’s no denying, but it does make sense. They’ve all seen enough special abilities to accept the logic behind any new one they learn about. “No ice cream-crapping tacos. Got it.” Vearden!Two nods again.

“This is all you got?” Saga!Three asks her. She isn’t a very vain person, but this looks ridiculous, and will probably look worse when it’s on her.

“Sorry,” Alyssa replies. “I gave all the normal hats to...um, never mind.”

“Well, what’s the fourth one?” Vearden!Two asks. “The one you were gonna give to Ramses.”

Alyssa removes a fourth piece of headgear from her bag. They stare at it a moment.

“Oh, hell no.”

“Cool. Then we’re good. I gotta go now.”

“Wait,” Vearden!Two stops Alyssa before she can blip away, or whatever it is she’s going to do. “How are Mateo and Leona?”

Alyssa smiles. “Does it matter? The next time you see them could be long before, or long after, the last time I saw them.”

“It does matter,” Vearden!Two argues.

“They’re fine,” Alyssa answers. “That was eleven hundred years ago, though. Who knows where they are now?”

“Thank you for your help,” Saga!Three says to her graciously. “Hopefully you’re not a bad guy pretending to be good.”

Alyssa transforms herself to look like a legit bad guy named The Cleanser. But she keeps her original voice, which suggests this was now the illusion. “Yeah, hopefully.” With that, she disappears.

“Are you still here?” Zektene asks the aether.

“There’s no way to know,” Saga!Three reminds her, which Zektene fully understands.

Vearden!Two is fidgeting with his mask, looking for circuitry, or other signs of it being more that a piece of cloth cut a certain way.

“You meant balaclava,” Zektene explains to him as she places the cowgirl hat on her own head.

“Yeah, that’s the word.” He slips it onto his face and adjusts for comfort.

Following suit, Saga!Three puts on her helmet. “Anyone know exactly what this thing is called?”

“Nope.”

“Anybody know what the hell they’re doing?” Zektene asks. She spins the hat around her head, presumably to see if she can activate it somehow.

“We’re just meant to think about being invisible,” Saga!Three says.

“Wait, are we sure we want that?” Vearden!Two questions. “Maybe we want to blend in with them by looking like them.”

“Do you speak Gondilak?”

“Actually, a little,” Vearden!Two replies proudly. “I can say...Dandavo Dali Dali.”

Zektene chuckles. “We all learned that one.”

“Besides,” Saga!Three says, “that’s Maramon. We don’t know that these people speak the same language as their progenitors.”

“Oh!” Vearden!Two remembers. “Ked rihl. That means pipe dream. Or maybe more like yeah, right. Or maybe that was the Orothsew language. Oh yeah, it was.”

“Okay, so—” Saga!Three tries to get back to the task at hand.

“Treda!” Vearden!Two exclaims.

“What?”

“That means human,” Vearden!Two adds. “It’s what the Gondilak called me.”

“That’s the last word we want to say to them,” Saga!Three complains.

“And it’s only one word,” Zektene adds. “We wouldn’t be able to hold a conversation. Maybe we can learn their language in time, but we should be invisible to do it.”

“Exactly,” Saga!Three agrees. “So everyone, just think about not being seen.”

“No, that’s not it,” Zektene disagrees. “Alyssa said we’re not really turning invisible. We’re just making it look like something is in our place. What we have to do is show the Gondilak what the area were standing in would look like if we weren’t in it.”

“Is that different than what she said?” Vearden!Two asks.

“It is,” Saga!Three says. “She’s right. We should look around behind us, take in our surroundings, and then command our hats to present that to others.”

“Okay.”

Vearden!Two shakes out his arms and legs to prepare. Zektene starts to breathe in and out methodically. Saga!Three closes her eyes, and tries to lower her heart rate. When she opens them again, the other two are gone. “Hello?”

“I’m still here,” Vearden!Two says. “Where did you guys go?”

“I’m standing where I was,” Zektene answers.

“We can’t even see each other?” He asks, frustrated.

“She said we have a psychic link with our respective hat,” Saga!Three begins, “but we’re not mind-controlling other people. We can’t see each other, because there’s nothing to see.” She tries to wave her hands in front of her face. “I can’t even see myself.”

Vearden!Two looks down at where his own body should be. “Ah, crap.”

“Not used to people not being able to gaze upon your magnificence, are you?” Zektene teases.

He decides to lean into the joke. “I don’t like to deprive people.” He’s largely considered to be the most attractive time traveler in the underworld, and he can’t help but know this. Other people don’t really let him forget it.

They spend the next hour practicing their use of the magic hats. They transform themselves into various forms. They start simple, conjuring the images people they know, like Ramses and Alyssa herself. Then they get a little more creative by looking like fire hydrants, and two moose chillin’ next to each other under a tree. They even discover that they don’t have to be inside the illusions themselves. They can create one on the other side of the room, and still appear as normal people in funny hats.

It’s not until they’re confident in their abilities, and are about to go out and field test the technology, that they realize they don’t know why they’re doing this. When they go and observe the Gondilak, what are they looking for? Are they expected to take notes about their behavior and habitat, like a conservationist would? Will they be going into people’s homes, and watching them in their private moments? What is the point of all this? Their question may have to wait, however. As soon as Saga!Three opens the exit door, they see a mirror image of their own lab staring back at them.

“Is this someone’s illusion?”

“No,” the other two answer in unison.

“I think we’re going to the future. Again.”

She’s right. The door sends them another two hundred years in the future. After they close the door again, and then try to walk back through it, there’s another mirror image. Except now they see themselves on the other side, like a real mirror. Vearden!Two walks through, and simultaneously reappears going the opposite direction. They’re stuck here, but why?

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Microstory 1210: Randall Gelen

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In an alternate reality, Randall Gelen and his wife, Carol adopted a young boy whose mother couldn’t take care of him by herself. She remained part of his life, but the Gelens were responsible for raising him, and helping him grow. When Mateo was older, he unwillingly became a time traveler, and was ultimately the reason for Randall’s death, when Randall attempted to fix his son’s problem. Mateo would later go back in time to before any of them were even born, and kill Adolf Hitler a few years before his time. This would have massive consequences for reality, the extent of which few people are capable of fathoming. One such consequence was that Mateo was never born. Another was that Mateo’s companion, Leona’s parents both died. Neither of these things were Mateo’s intention, but causal chains over the course of decades are incredibly difficult to trace. Without Mateo to be of need, Randall and Carol ended up adopting Leona instead; a decision which they would come to suspect wasn’t entirely their own, though no real reason has ever been uncovered. Also for reasons they don’t fully understand, Randall died of a heart attack on the same day in the new reality that he died in the prior timeline. What many don’t realize was that this was not the end of his story. He got to live an entire life in the second before his death, and he got to meet the son he never knew he had. He also got to see what happened to his daughter after he died. His only regret was that Carol wasn’t there to experience it with him.

There was a special device called the time mirror. Actually, there were many time mirrors, but the temporal extraction mirror was the rarest, and the kind used in this instance. Just before death, Randall was pulled from his place in time—through a process that required less blood than the other extraction mirror did—and transported to the future, where advanced medical technology was used to save his life. He then continued on for awhile, having adventures with his daughter, as well as his once-son, Mateo. He didn’t ask for this, but he was grateful for the opportunity. He helped a lot of people during his second chance, but it couldn’t last forever. There was nothing he could do to prevent his own inevitable demise. At some point, he would have to return to the exact moment he left, and die for real. The extraction mirrors were a dangerous invention, because the longer someone stayed outside of their own time period, the more they put reality at risk. If Randall were to die under different circumstances, he would never be able to return to his fated moment, and if he didn’t do that, the timeline will have been altered on the quantum level. But if the timeline were altered, he would then have been running around an old timeline, and that could spell disaster. Time travelers are changing events of the past all the time, but an extraction mirror only operates in one reality, and no changes are expected; just predestiny. It is for this reason that it is generally unwise to remove an individual from their moment of death. It should only be done when no other options are available, or when reality would be in more danger by inaction. Randall’s involvement in the future proved just how problematic it can be, and there was only one way to fix it.

Microstory 1209: Mireille Travert

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Mireille Travert was a loving and protective individual. When she was a little girl, she would treat her dolls like her children. She would change their clothes, and pretend to feed them, and place the eldest in charge while she was gone, which was a pink dog. When her little brother was born, she took care of him too, and not just for pretend, but for real. She was like a second mother to him, and he would grow up to realize that he needed the extra attention. When she was eleven years old, her parents finally felt that she was mature enough to babysit other people’s children; a sentiment that her customers would come to share. She developed a very good reputation around the neighborhood, and was soon in very high demand. Business grew to be so good that she was no longer able to keep all of her clients happy, so she needed to find a way to expand without adding extra minutes to the day, or cloning herself. Of course, the only solution was to recruit other teenagers, and form what some might call a club. She couldn’t just ask her friends, and casually delegate jobs to them. If she wanted to maintain her credibility, her associates had to be as good as she was, so she didn’t let any of them work alone until she felt they were ready. She actually developed an apprentice curriculum that any candidate would have to pass before they could take jobs on their own. The group grew so big that the people she once trained became good enough to train others, so they could expand even more. Well, there were a few legal issues with this business; mostly that it was getting to be a real business, and there were tax issues with that. She argued that she wasn’t taking a cut of other babysitter’s pay, so it couldn’t be considered a childcare service. The authorities didn’t see it that way, and suddenly she had all this legal paperwork to fill out. Because of this, she never ended up going to college, because it would have been a waste of time and money. If she wanted to study, she could do so when she was out on a job with kids that weren’t too high maintenance. Though, to be fair, she rarely took such jobs, because they were better suited for newer recruits, which she was now calling employees.

She was first exposed to the world of time travelers when she was eighteen years old because of a client. Horace Reaver had the ability to predict the outcome of sports competitions and lotteries, so he was quite wealthy, and was able to procure Mireille’s services personally, even though his daughter was old enough to take care of herself. She always assumed he more so wanted Paige to have a friend than a babysitter, but the money was real good, so she didn’t vocalize her concerns. While Paige and some other family friends were off having an adventure, Mireille was placed in charge of a young girl she would eventually learn was her cousin, from the future. She didn’t want to be part of any of this, but because of her involvement, she was now on the radar of the powers that be, who just so happened to need someone with her particular skills. For reasons most people don’t understand, the powers don’t ever let the parents of choosing ones care for their young past the age of three, if those parents are aware of time travel. If they’re ignorant, they still may not be allowed to keep their kids, though, so that isn’t a very strong rule. Again, it’s unclear why this must be the case, but because of it, the children have to go somewhere. The PTB chose Mireille to be the resident daycare provider; to raise these children until they were old enough to go off on their own. She was a terrific caregiver, so it was a fitting assignment. The problem was that she wasn’t salmon, and without undergoing some changes, time travel could have serious negative medical effects on her. The powers that be didn’t give up, though. They sent her to a chooser named Dr. Mallory Hammer, who was working on a way to allow a human to experience nonlinear time without suffering from its side effects, through a new type of temporal therapy. Fortunately for Mireille, Mallory refused this procedure, for she had a strict code of ethics that she broke for no one. Mireille had no intention of supporting these people’s needs either, so she was grateful to have an ally. As far as anyone knows, Mireille is the only person in history to outright refuse the demands of the powers that be, which effectively lessened their power and influence. She moved on with her life after that, and though no one could have called it normal, she did get to experience it doing what she loved; caring for children.

Microstory 1208: Adolphe Sargent

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Adolphe Sargent was not a leader during the Franco-Prussian War. He was just a regular soldier who was trying to do his part for a cause he believed in. After a near death experience on the battlefield, with an enemy combatant who would come to be known as The Warrior, Adolphe was conscripted by the powers that be into a group of fighters from all over time and space called the salmon battalion. He was not meant to be a leader here, but was arbitrarily assigned the rank of Sergeant, theoretically just to be funny. There were a few hundred other members of the battalion, who were sent to various wars throughout time to alter their results. They usually didn’t impact the culminating outcomes, but they did change the course of history in less dramatic—but still very important—ways. Over time, Adolphe proved himself to be a great leader, so he was given more responsibility. Since the battalion didn’t answer to some sort of higher institution, like a national government, the hierarchy was a lot less established, and far more fluid. His title never changed, though his scope expanded. Eventually, he was running the entire group, getting missions directly via the battalion’s resident psychic, and handling the schedule. He made sure that this schedule was fair, and that no one was overworked, like he was. This was not the life he would have chosen, but it was the one he had, and he knew that he wasn’t picked for no reason at all. He joined the military of his own accord, and these were the consequences, as outrageous as they might be. The truth was—and maybe he would never admit this—he didn’t want to do any of this, but he just didn’t quite understand at the time what he was getting himself into. Perhaps he was just too young to see what it would do to him. He never thought he would turn into a psychopathic killer, but he figured his patriotism would carry him through. He was by no means a pacifist, but he also didn’t care much for war, and he certainly didn’t belong with the salmon battalion. The powers never let him go, though. They just kept feeding him mission after mission, and he continued to accept them without question. As he grew older, his body started failing him, which was something that time did to everyone, even a time traveler. The greatest, and only, gift the powers that be gave him was the persistence of his mortality. They could have quite easily turned him into an immortal, and though he could have never been killed, he could have become worn. He was never fully replaced, but as his physical well-being diminished, he delegated more responsibilities to others, and led his people more from the sidelines. He was granted retirement, but it was but a year from his death, from the perspective of his personal timeline. The battalion did not live on without him. Since they were time travelers all, and the powers could see all of time and space from beyond it, every mission that ever needed to be executed was already taken care of. Adolphe Sargent was the salmon battalion, and no one could have argued against this truth. His legacy as a leader, a fighter, and a good man, rings through eternity, and can never be silenced.

Microstory 1207: Cheryl Bradley

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Cheryl Bradley was a good mother, and a good wife, who did the best she could with the hand she was dealt. She had two children, though due to a temporal anomaly, was ultimately only able to recall the latter. She loved Escher while he existed, but once he was removed from this dimension, there was nothing anyone could do to help. Her and Tyler’s second child, Hogarth was always a bright and promising student, which would actually prove to be Cheryl’s downfall. As a single parent, who was pretty much doing this on her own, Cheryl gave Hogarth everything she possibly could, and then some. What she didn’t realize, unfortunately, was that Hogarth would become obsessed with dimensions, and time travel, and all other related topics. She would gain the education necessary to actually do something with these phenomena; harness them to her advantage, and disadvantage. When she disappeared, Cheryl didn’t know what to do with herself. She had reconciled with the father, but all of that progress was undone in one day. Because while both of them could remember Hogarth, their memories had been corrupted. They couldn’t recall the last time they had seen her, or where she had gone. Most missing persons investigations can start at least somewhere, but they didn’t even know if she was in Topeka at the time. She often traveled for work; they knew that much. When they reported her missing to the authorities, they did not look innocent. Their inability to pinpoint Hogarth’s last known location was extremely suspicious, and they could not be treated as reliable witnesses. The only silver lining to this was that there were no lasting records that Hogarth ever existed, according to the rest of the world. Her high school had never heard of her, and neither had either of the two universities she had attended. The cops eventually had to consider them both mentally unwell, and close the investigation completely. This made everything for Cheryl and Tyler so much worse, because they were acutely aware that this child of theirs had indeed existed. Even though recent memories were hazy, older ones remained quite clear in their minds. Still, they had to surrender to the fact that something had happened to Hogarth beyond their control, and that no one could help them. After about a month of only having each other, they went their separate ways, and Cheryl never saw her ex-husband again. She sought psychological help, and following years of therapy, was able to mostly accept that her memories of Hogarth were some kind of shared delusion. She still felt like the life she remembered could have been real, but she did eventually let it all go, and moved on with her life as if nothing had happened. She never found anyone else to be with. She was a little overbearing and protective of her daughter, so there was no time for relationships then. She was distraught when Hogarth disappeared, so she still wasn’t interested in a relationship. Even with the therapy, she never figured out how to climb out of her depression. She died of age-related causes, empty and alone. Though she was not a time traveler, and in fact, didn’t really ever see that such things were real, Quincy Halifax decided to bury her in the special transdimensional cemetery, where her plot would be preserved for eternity.

Microstory 1206: Quincy Halifax

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Quincy Halifax was literally not from this world. He originated in a different universe entirely, but he was born with a special ability to crossover. The truth is that everyone capable of dreaming is also capable of traversing the bulkverse, which holds an infinite number of universe branes. A dreamworld has always been considered a mental collection of thoughts and memories; one that is abstract, and does not exist on its own. Actually, it does exist physically, within the hyperdimensional construct we know as collective reality. Most dreamworlds don’t last beyond the dreamer’s sleeping state, but for the ones that are stable enough, Quincy can access them. His is a long bloodline of dreamwalkers, who have used their abilities to accomplish various ends. Some build constructs where others can visit while maintaining full lucidity. Others travel the bulkverse, helping the people they find there, in whatever capacity they can. One of the more common uses for lucid dreamworld generation is to aid in people’s learning. By doubling up on the productivity for the fraction of the day that’s otherwise used for only one thing: sleeping or learning, participants can spend their waking hours doing whatever else they want. Quincy did end up becoming a teacher in Atlantis, but he did so using more traditional techniques. He actually didn’t use his ability to teach his students. He had no particular reason for this; it simply didn’t occur to him. He never thought he would soon be expected to use it for them in a unique way. Rather, he would expect it of himself. Some of his students found themselves in possession of very powerful technology, which could manipulate the events in other universes. Had he realized they obtained it in time, he could have stopped it, but once they started using it, there was no going back. His only option at that point was to enter the universe they were manipulating, using his own ability to crossover, and help the people living there as best he could. He chose to become a gravedigger, as unglamorous as that was. He figured he wouldn’t be able to alleviate much of what his students were putting their unwitting characters through, so any attempt to help any one person—or even a group of people—would be too myopic in thinking. He decided the best way he could help was to bury the dead. He didn’t bury everyone in the world, of course. The natives were generally responsible for their own practices. He was only in charge of a specific class: those who experienced nonlinear time. He chose this because, while there were billions of individuals in the universe altogether, his students were only having a direct impact on these relative few. He felt that this made them the students’ responsibility, and by extension, his. He wasn’t naturally immortal, but he knew he had so much work to do, and he couldn’t risk dying himself before it was done. Fortunately, he had a literal god’s eye view of the world, and was able to procure the necessary ingredients so that his mission would never be interrupted.

The Advancement of Mateo Matic: November 14, 2252

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Leona was maybe a meter and a half in up in the air when she jumped forward in time. She hadn’t expected the shuttle to be gone, and since she wasn’t prepared for it, she didn’t have time to land on her feet. Still, it wasn’t too far of a drop, and the ground was relatively soft, so she quickly recovered. She stood there for a moment, a bit disoriented, trying to make sure she wasn’t just confused about where the shuttle was. No, it was definitely gone, and Briar was the only one who could have taken it. Why, though, would he have done that? When did he do it? And how long had it taken him to fix it first. She checked her pocket and discovered the drive chip to still be in it, so he must have figured out what was missing. Perhaps he was a lot smarter than she realized, or he had purposely misled her. Either way, she was stuck there, and might never be saved, unless the powers that be assigned someone to rescue her.

Firewood. The first thing she needed to do was find firewood. Then she needed to go back to the nearest source of water, which was only about a half kilometer away. She had only gathered a handful of sticks when she heard the low drone of the shuttle as it approached. It landed exactly where it had been before.

Briar stepped out. “Sorry! Sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry. I lost track of time. I think you’ll understand later. We didn’t worry about such things on the other side of the mountain. My mother was never more than a kilometer away from me, so things just happened whenever they happened.”

“You fixed it.”

“Yeah, once I read through the entire manual, it wasn’t too hard.”

“Briar, that thing is, like, five thousand pages long.”

He shrugged. “I didn’t have anything better to do. The drive chip was missing.”

Leona cleared her throat, but didn’t say anything.

He examined her for a second. “Oh, I see. You thought I would abandon you.”

“I thought...” she hesitated, “it could happen.”

“You were right to be worried. I get that we just met. I would have done the same thing, though I probably would have removed the main engine access grip instead. It’s made out of tantalum hafnium carbide, just like the rest of it, which means I wouldn’t have had the raw materials to synthesize a new one, and the panel wouldn’t have closed without it.”

“I’ll remember that for next time. Where did you go?”

“I went to the coordinates that my mother left me. I didn’t know if you would be willing to take me, and I kind of needed to go on my own anyway.”

“You should have risked that I would refuse,” Leona said. “What if you had missed something in the manual? You could have died, and I could have been stuck here forever.”

“This is true. I wasn’t thinking about that, though. I just knew I needed to go there. It’s on an entirely different continent, so I’ve never been able to get there before. This was my one and only shot.”

“Well, what are you talking about? What did you find?”

“I’m talking about a secret my mom kept that I don’t even think Trinity knew. I can’t tell you what I found, but I can show you.”

Leona weighed the options of getting into the shuttle with this stranger. She was planning to do that anyway, but that was before he proved how intelligent he was. Smart people are dangerous. Still, his story was intriguing, and her curiosity was stronger than her reason. “Do we have enough fuel?”

“The solar paint is enough to hold us. We won’t be going hypersonic, of course, but we’ll get there soon enough.”

Several hours later, they were across the ocean, and on the other continent. He had to land a few kilometers away from the destination, both because there weren’t great landing sites closer, and because he didn’t want to disturb the people on the other side, whatever that meant. Leona gained a decent grasp of the population geography of Thālith al Naʽāmāt Bida in this time period, so she could find a remote region to escape to. Like the area they had come from, this wasn’t inhabited either, so she didn’t know who it was he might be referring to.

After they traversed the distance, they came upon the foot of a mountain, right at the mouth of a cave. “We’re going in there?” she asked. She wasn’t scared of the cave itself, but she still couldn’t be entirely comfortable going into an enclosed space with him. Now it was even more frightening, because of there really were other people around here, who knows what he had planned? Had he just wanted to kill her, he could have done it anywhere, but if others were involved, that would explain his need to transport her to a second location. Yet she pressed on, and followed him into the darkness.

Before too long, she started feeling noticeably lighter. It was as if the surface gravity was being altered with each passing step. Now, it was true that gravity was slightly different at different parts of any planet, based on proximity to the equator or poles, or altitude. But it didn’t change this dramatically in a matter of meters. Something weird was going on, and she was getting the impression they weren’t on Bida anymore. This much was all but confirmed when they finally exited the cave, and found themselves in the middle of a wintry forest at civil twilight. It would have also been impossible for the climate to have changed this quickly, for a number of reasons. They had walked in a fairly straight line, and would never have had the chance to reach the other side of the mountain this fast. It was pretty hot where they entered. Plus, she was pretty sure she had gotten a good bird’s eye view of the mountain, and it just didn’t look like this. No, they weren’t on Bida anymore, but where?

“I don’t know,” Briar answered. “Mom made me memorize these coordinates when I was a boy, but didn’t tell me why. She said I could use it to escape if it was my only option.”

Leona was nodding, and inspecting their new environment.. “It’s definitely an escape. It’ll be dark soon; here, not back where we came from. Night should fall by the time we get all the way back to the shuttle, and then all the way back here.”

“Why do we need to return to the shuttle?” he asked.

“There’s something in the storage compartment that I need. I don’t think this is Thālith al Naʽāmāt Bida, but unless you’ve explored, and seen some frame of reference, there’s no way to know without more data. I have a pretty good guess, but we need confirmation. Didn’t you say there were people?”

“I’ve seen footsteps, but no actual people.”

“Okay.”

And so they got their ten thousand steps in with a trek across the rocky landscape, back to the shuttle. They must have just missed a dust storm, because the craft was so much dirtier than it was. This time, she remembered to seal it up. They got even more steps with the walk back to the mountain with supplies. It was indeed nighttime on the other side of the cave. The more dramatic contrast proved that they had walked through some kind of portal. Leona removed the particular instrument she required, and set it up on the tripod in the closest clear area she could find. She needed a good view of the night sky. She made adjustments when the readings didn’t give her accurate results, working through the problem out loud. “Okay, Northern hemisphere, probably.—No, that can’t be right.—Predictive modeling only goes so far, so I better hope it’s within close range.—Historical data only goes so far back too.—There!”

“What is it?”

She double-checked the results, then sighed. She didn’t know how she should feel about what the readings told her. Whether this was naturally occurring, or created by a choosing one—perhaps spatial merger, Kayetan Glaston—this was Earth. The problem was that it was Earth over nine hundred years ago, so she was worse off than if she had just taken the reframe engine. “It’s Earth, year 1343.”

“Is that bad?”

“It’s just not helpful. This is why your mother said it was a last resort. It would really only help you if Tau Ceti was about to explode, or something. There are civilization in this time period, but they’re not great. I mean, we’re in the middle of the Black Death right now, though I guess that wasn’t true when your mom told you about the cave. Or maybe it was. Maybe the portal always takes you to 1343; I don’t know.”

“What does that thing do?” he nodded towards the tripod.

“It measures stellar drift. By looking at the stars, we can find out where we are, but with enough data, we can also find out when we are.”

“What do we do with this information?”

Leona triple-checked the results, then started packing everything up. “We do nothing. We can’t interfere with the native population, and we can’t tell anyone else. When we go back to Trinity and the others, you can’t say a word about the portal. Can you keep a secret? Did your mother teach you how to do that?”

“Well, she didn’t, because we didn’t have secrets between us. I spent a lot of time by myself, though, even when she was alive, so I certainly know how to be quiet.”

“I’ll have to hope that’s good enough. Word cannot get out about this place. Sure, lots of people can travel through time, be it on their own, or with help. We don’t need to be giving them any other means, however. This has to stay between us.”

“I understand.” It looked like he really did. She was fairly confident Briar would keep his mouth shut, especially since it was unlikely to come up naturally in conversation. He just needed to get through the first few days when people would still be asking him questions about his recent experiences with Leona. After that, no one would think to ask him whether he encountered any weird spacetime anomalies.

“We should go. The others are only going to believe it took me so long to repair my shuttle. After that, they’ll be questioning my timeline.”

“Will we ever come back here?”

“I’ll need to when I get a chance, to check how the portal operates over time. You won’t need to come back, and I kindly ask you to not try while I’m gone. Secrets don’t only get out when you tell them to people. Sometimes people catch you because of your actions.”

“I never learned how to lie,” Briar said, “but I’m not an idiot. You don’t just want me to not tell people; you want people to not find out. I really do understand.”

“Good. Now, come on. I’ll introduce you to everyone.”

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Source Variant: Planet of Hats (Part III)

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Saxon talked a little bit more about Project Stargate, Operation Starseed, and two other interrelated endeavors called Operation Anglo, and Operation Soul Patch. Apparently, Projects are publicly known massive undertakings, while Operations require a little more secrecy, and are often used to support the projects. He evidently cloned himself millions of times, and sent each one of them to a different section of an unfathomably huge ship, which would break apart, and start exploring the galaxy. He was the OG Saxon, however, and was able to exercise a little more independence because of it. Following some research, before the Stargate ship was able to break apart too much, he switched places with one of the random Anglo clones, so that he would be stationed on this planet. According to early synthetical readings, the world that would one day come to be known as Orolak was rated at .982 on the Terrestrial Habitability Similarity Index. A perfect score would have been 1, so this was pretty good.

Saga!Two and Vearden!Three did what they could to help Saxon with his work. For most of the worlds that were being seeded with evolved human-based life, the first generation would be raised by some form of artificial intelligence, but either way, they couldn’t do it on their own. The humans were responsible for maintaining the growth pods while the Orothsew subjects were still in preliminary biological development. Once they were born, they were then responsible for protecting them, and teaching them how to live. They went over the basics: finding food, eating, sleeping, not killing, etc. They didn’t teach them any math or science. They didn’t tell stories of Earth, or explained how it is they came to be. Hell, they didn’t even speak to them, because then the Orothsew would learn English, and they were meant to form their own language. It was only their job to make sure they survived long enough to propagate the species. Once the first phase of their social development was complete, so was the job.

To unwittingly mark the occasion, they open a door to get something to eat, and all three find themselves transitioning to what they soon learn to be a different point in time. Based on stellar drift, it’s almost exactly two hundred years later. They had set up a little village for the first generation of inhabitants several kilometers away from the facility where they were grown, but that facility still existed, and it’s where the humans were living once it was safe to leave the children alone for extended periods of time. The place is still here, just as they left it, but automated systems had buried it underneath a hill, so that it perfectly blended in with the environment. Orothsew progress was still in its infancy, so any exposure to advanced technology could disrupt their continued social development. It’s not quite the Prime Directive from the Star Trek franchise, though. If the powers that be transported all of them to this moment in the future, then it’s obviously for a reason, and that reason probably doesn’t involve too much passively observing from a safe distance.

It does involve some observation, though. They look through the data the facility has been keeping track of since they were gone. The population rose at a predictable and steady rate until something terrible happened eighty-three years ago. An infection spread through the village, and though the villagers had the good sense to isolate all who were showing symptoms of the disease, they didn’t consider quarantining asymptomatic people who might have been exposed to the pathogen. All told, the population took a hit of three hundred and fifty-eight people, but it could have been so much worse. It could have spelled the end of the species, and Saxon has been reluctant to answer what they would have done in that situation. Though, to be fair, if that were to ever happen, the PTB would probably step up, and send them in to stop it. Perhaps that’s why they’re here now. Maybe there’s another disease coming, or some natural disaster that the Orothsew are woefully unprepared for.

Saxon is still looking over the numbers, head in hand. “Five hundred and ninety-one.”

“How many should there be?” Saga!Two asks.

He shakes his head. “Around fifteen hundred. More.”

“This happens,” Vearden!Three assures him. “Humans went through a lot more than this, because they didn’t have us.”

“Yes, they did,” Saxon says.

“What?”

“Huh?” Saxon has gotten lost in his thoughts.

“What do you mean, humans had us?” Saga!Two questions.

“Oh, sorry. Well, I should be clear; they’re a theory. There are some inexplicable anomalies when we look back at the hominid population hundreds of thousands of years ago. Our ancestors survived some things they probably shouldn’t have. These disasters were just shy of being enough to wipe out the species entirely. Humans from what’s considered to be the very first timeline ever supposedly went back in time and saved their own ancestors, thus propelling us towards a more stable population growth rate. If this is true, it’s before the powers that be or The Gallery existed, and the changes they made were so dramatic that not even one individual was born in that timeline, and also in any other since.”

“So, there’s no proof any of this is true,” Vearden!Three says.

Saxon goes back to looking at the data. “No, but there’s strong evidence.”

“You’re human,” Saga!Three says in a non sequitur.

Saxon stops dwelling for a moment again. “Yes, why?”

“Why do you know so much about us? Who taught you all this?”

He chuckles. “You people spend a lot of time talking to each other to get information. Word of mouth is full of errors, lies, and truths lost in translation. I’ve heard so many contradictory claims about who the powers that be are, and what they have to do with the choosing ones. There’s a whole library out there that’s maintained by The Historian. I got access to it, and I did what I do best; I studied my ass off. I’m not saying there are no inaccuracies or biases in those books, but they’re at least based on research. You should be careful when someone tries to tell you what’s going on. They may not be right.”

“Thanks, professor,” Vearden!Three snarks. “I’ll remember that the next time I travel to one of the dozens of other universes I’ve gone to.” It’s true that, after traveling all over the bulkverse in The Crossover, he has a few experiences Saxon could never begin to understand, but that doesn’t mean there aren’t things he could learn from the legit astronaut. His advice certainly isn’t unreasonable.

“Vearden,” Saga!Three scolds.

“I know. I’m sorry.”

Saxon sighs and moves on. “Well, the disease is over. It ran its course decades ago. I’m looking at atmospheric and seismic readings; I don’t see anything else that gives you a clue what you’re back here to accomplish.”

“What would you be doing if you hadn’t jumped forward two hundred years?” Saga!Three poses. “That is, what would you have been doing for the last couple centuries?”

“I dunno,” Saxon answers, “but I wouldn’t still be here.”

“Oh, no?”

“No, I would have left after the last member of the first generation died, which they already have. Once no one was left alive who was grown in a pod, it would have been up to the remainders to sustain their population unaided. If you do have a job to do here, I’m not sure I should even help you. I didn’t, like, sign an oath, or anything, but I wasn’t meant to stick around forever.”

“So our door cut you off from your job?” Vearden!Three laments.

“I should clarify,” Saxon begins. “Vonearthan intervention ends after the first generation in most cases, including this one. It didn’t have to be me. As soon as I disappeared, automated systems took over.”

“That’s comforting,” Vearden!Three says with an extended nod. “It doesn’t tell us why it is we’re here now, though.”

As if there were a correlation between his words, and what was happening in one of the now several Orothsew villages, an alarm goes off. A live feed from a microdrone disguised as an insect comes up on the main screen. Since none of them speaks the Orothsew language, subtitles appear as well. Two males are fighting in the middle of a crowd. They’re not at full fisticuffs yet, but their argument is as heated as it is petty. It’s over the hand of a mate. One of them will push the other, or knock his hands out of the way. Waggling fingers and rude hand gestures; this is getting bad. But it apparently can’t go further in the here and now. The Orothsew have rules. The duel is scheduled for tomorrow, at high noon. The three humans aren’t sure what a duel in their culture involves, because they don’t mention details during the fight, but one thing the monitoring systems know is that they haven’t invented guns yet, so that’s something.

“We have to stop it,” Saga!Two declares.

“We can’t,” Saxon contends. “We can’t go out there like this. Back when we were teaching the wee babies how to survive, looking human was fine. They didn’t pass that information down to their own children, because they didn’t yet understand. Even if they describe us generations from now, no one will believe in ancient astronauts, just like people on Earth never did. But they’re already developed enough to record quasi-accurate history akin to the Bible. We can’t show our human faces; we just can’t.”

“I can help with that.” A woman walks in from the other room. A human woman. The three of them take a quick glance at each other, but their facial expressions do not suggest that anyone already knows who she is. She tries to shake their hands, but they’re reluctant. “It’s a good thing I’m not easily offended. If my visage makes you nervous, I can always take a form you are more comfortable with.” With no more warning, she suddenly transforms to look exactly like Leona Matic.

“Who are you?” Vearden!Two asks. He’s never met Leona before.

“My name is Alyssa McIver. I’m an illusionist. I can make you see whatever I want you to see...as long as what I want you to see exists at some point in spacetime. I can’t conjure imaginary visions; just superimpose real ones.”

“Could you, then. Umm...?” Saxon was uncomfortable. “Could you go back to your real face?”

She does as she’s asked. “I can help you blend in with the natives. I’ve done it a million times.That was my job almost a thousand years ago on the AOC.”

Now Saxon is interested, and more receptive. “So it’s true; the source variant theory. This is going to keep happening on other worlds.”

“It already has,” Alyssa confirms. “Source variants are fabricating aliens where there would not be aliens naturally. What you’re doing here; infiltrating the natives, and secretly helping to fix their problems? That’s what I and my crew did in the third millennium.”

“What year is it right now?” Vearden!Three asks her.

“Nine-two-seven,” Alyssa replies.

“What? No, I mean by the Earthan calendar.”

“Oh, you mean the old calendar. Three-five-two-seven.”

This freaks him out. “Why do they restart the calendar? Does the world end?”

“Don’t worry about it,” Alyssa says dismissively. “Do you like hats?”

“Alyssa,” Vearden!Three presses. “Does the world end?”

“I’ve taken the liberty of guessing what kind of hats you’ll be more comfortable with.” She removes three hats from her bag, each of a different design. One is a snowcap, the other a driving cap, and the third is something none of them knows enough about hats to designate. “No one will see the hat, of course. It will just make you look like a, uh...”

“Orothsew,” Saxon helps.

“Orothsew,” she echoes. “Yes. When I was on the AOC, I would just maintain the illusions myself, but I’m not sticking around here, so Holly Blue imbued these with my powers.”

They take the hats graciously.

“I do have some more questions,” Vearden!Three says.

“Cool. I gotta go, though. Bye!” She may teleport away at that point, or she just makes herself invisible. Either way, she’s gone.

They’ll probably never know what prompted her to come to the future to help them, but they’re grateful. Now it’s time to go stop that duel. They don’t realize until later how absolutely vital it was that they stop it. Either of their deaths would have caused catastrophic problems later on.

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