Microstory 1235: Catania Porter

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Catania Porter discovered her time power when she was seven years old. On the first day of second grade, she learned the hard way that a boy in her class was deathly allergic to peanuts, but they were living in a time before email, so requesting other parents to not send peanut-based products with their children was difficult at best. She felt responsible for having brought the sandwich, and if there was anything she could do to help, she had to try. This was also before the epinephrine autoinjector was invented, so the teacher didn’t think there was anything anyone could do about it before the ambulance arrived. Fortunately for him, when it came to what existed when, Catania had no apparent limits. She instinctively summoned the life-saving device into her own hand, ignored her shock at what she had just done, read the instructions quickly, and jammed it into her friend’s leg. The other students, and their teacher, asked Catania what she had done, but she played dumb. The autoinjector disappeared as quickly as it had first come, and no one could prove that it was ever there. For the rest of the school year, and beyond, everyone knew that it was Catania who had saved the boy’s life, even though they didn’t understand how. They didn’t call her a witch, or a freak, or anything like that. They liked and respected her, and it was this reaction that led her into choosing her life’s path. Despite everyone’s curiosity, she continued to keep her ability a secret, while she practiced and studied it. Much like Ruby Nelson, Catania had the ability to find anything in the universe, at any point in its history, past or future. The two major differences were that she could also summon the things she found to herself—a skill known in the business as apportation—and that this power had no negative impact on her psyche. Still, it wasn’t guaranteed that she would do great things with this power. There were endless possible applications she could have chosen. She could have smuggled drugs from one country to another, completely subverting the borders, or any of the space in between. She could have broken people out of jail without being caught on security cameras. She could have stolen money from banks, or taken anything else she desired, from anywhere else, all without leaving her home. But none of that would have made sense to her; not with her personality. Helping people get what they needed was intuitive for Catania. It never crossed her mind to collect meaningless possessions for herself when she could be far more useful as a sort of superpowered assistant. People proved to be pretty grateful. So this was what she did with her life, delivering special requests from people—particularly choosing ones—that the powers that be decided against commissioning The Courier to handle instead. She also helped regular humans who had no idea that she had any time power, and thought she was just a really good investigator. For them, she would find missing cats, and misplaced keys, and misdirected mail. These types of jobs were the most rewarding for her, so she eventually started really focusing on those, and kind of leaving other time travelers to their own devices.

Microstory 1234: Ruby Nelson

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It was no surprise to anyone when Ruby Nelson decided to become a librarian. She loved books, to be sure, but more than that, she loved organization. But even more than that, she needed organization. She liked grocery store shelves and kitchen hooks for the same reason. Her favorite sport was baseball, not because of anything special about the game itself, but because every player had a role. They stayed in their respective areas, and didn’t share responsibilities, and she found that comforting. Ruby was the seventh of eleven siblings, who were each named after their month’s birthstone. How did their parents pull off such a feat? How did they only ever birth one child per month, without doubling up even once? Because Ruby’s father was a choosing one. He could manipulate future probabilities. When they wanted a son named Garnet, they conceived him in the prior April, but that alone didn’t guarantee a January baby, so he coaxed the timeline to give them what he wanted. Why did he do this? Well, because it was one of the better uses of his time power that he could think of, because his gift came with a major downside. At least, that’s how he perceived it; it’s not really clear whether this was a downside, or just an unrelated and coincidental aspect of his personality. He had an urge to do bad things with probability. He could, for instance, calculate the chances that the businessman fumbling with his paperwork would drop it all on the floor of the subway station, and get hit by the train in his attempt to retrieve them. Nelson couldn’t help but want to force the reality where the businessman died to happen, when he could just as easily protect this stranger. Nelson didn’t really want these kinds of things to occur, but there was something about him that gave him bad thoughts. The best way he could come up with to avoid succumbing to these impulses was to use his power in healthy or innocuous ways. Controlling the births of his own children was a surprisingly powerful enough way to quell his need to let people get hurt. As long as he did this about every two years, everything would be fine, and everyone would be safe. Unfortunately, his trick only lasted him twenty years before his luck finally ran out. His wife experienced menopause, and was never able to have an October baby. So there would be no Opal—none in the family, that is—and Nelson would have to come up with a new plan. Sadly, he was never able to, and after relapsing once by being responsible for the death of everyone in his neighbor’s house, Nelson felt that he had no choice but to commit suicide.

Ruby was the only apparent child of his to have been born with her own time power. This wasn’t particularly astonishing, though, since time power heredity has never been proven to exist. She had the ability to find anyone or anything in time or space. This seemed to come with its own side effects. Ruby—her words; no one else’s—was going crazy. Every time she used her ability to help a client find something they had lost, she felt a little less like herself, and a little more like the darker side of her father. She was seeing things that weren’t there, including the faces of past clients. Objects from all over the world would call out to her. She stopped believing that she could trust anyone around her, including her family. She knew she had to stop, but her supernatural addiction was not any easier to overcome than her father’s. Her best course of action was to never use her ability, and the best way to do that, was to stay organized. She surrounded herself with the Dewey Decimal System, and submerged herself in a world that didn’t require special powers at all. She didn’t need to reach out to the timestream to find a book on big cats. All she needed to do was look for it in the library’s card catalogue, like any normal person would. Of course, since time travel was real, it was hard to explain to some people that she was no longer working as a finder. No matter how many times she said it, there was always someone who had heard about how she was when she was younger, and not about how she had changed. Still, she focused on her new job, and didn’t relapse once...until she had to. She was living in Springfield, Kansas when the city was being swallowed up by a destructive portal. It took her awhile to realize what was happening, because she had deliberately severed her connection to the timestream, but when she did, she knew she had to do something to help. After saving the one other person she knew of who could see what was really going on, she broke her vows, and reconnected to spacetime. Knowledge, to her, was vastly important, and if anyone ended up surviving the terrible trip to the rogue planet, she thought they might need a safe place to learn. They would fall into savagery if they lost all memory of life in civilized society. She connected herself to every single book in that library when the portal came for it, and the future Durune were better for it. Like the high school, which was at the time, accommodating several people who were immune, the Library didn’t survive on its own merits. It was only because Ruby was in it when it happened. But even that wasn’t enough to protect everyone else. The library remained intact on Durus, but in a spatio-temporal pocket dimension. For every one hour that passed in the Library, a year passed for everyone on the outside, and most of them were unaware that the Library existed. Ruby barely lasted a week under these conditions before she relapsed like her father, and killed everyone inside, along with herself.

Microstory 1233: Dodeka Sarkisyan

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Temporal manipulation of any kind is a dangerous thing, especially for those who have no time powers at all. For the most part, time travelers prefer to stay out of regular human business. Well, that’s not really true—sometimes their whole purpose is to change the past—but they do like to stay in the shadows. They don’t interfere in personal human affairs, unless it specifically has to do with them. Even the so-called bad time travelers stick to their own kind, because causing harm to a human is too easy, so they generally don’t see much point. They could go back in time and kill their enemy’s grandmother before she has any children, and their ultimate target would have no way of protecting themselves. This is where Meliora Rutherford Delaney-Reaver comes in, because this does sometimes happen, along with many other unfortunate things. She built Sanctuary millions of light years from Earth, in a heavily fortified building, to prevent other travelers from hurting the innocent. Dodeka Sarkisyan was one of these humans, though by her own part, she had nothing to do with what transpired. Dodeka’s mother died when she was only ten years old, and her father did not handle it well. His wife made a lot more money than he ever could, and he found it extremely difficult to make ends meet while trying to raise five children on his own. One of them was old enough to be emancipated, but probably not responsible enough to help take care of the rest. The second oldest was incredibly intelligent, and landed a scholarship at a prestigious boarding school on the other side of the country, so she was out before anyone knew what happened. Their late mother’s sister was capable of taking in one of the children, but not all of them, so the middle kid went off to live with her on the other side of the state. This left Dodeka and the baby with their dad, who was still struggling with his demons, even with the lightened load. He surrendered to a life of crime; organized crime, to be more specific. He was nothing special in the organization, but he wasn’t totally blameless either, so when a vigilante time traveler decided to go back in time and eliminate every single member of the crime family from the timestream, Sarkisyan was not excluded.

So now fifteen-year-old Dodeka was alone, and solely in charge of her rambunctious little brother. She might have been sent into the foster care system, but Meliora already knew enough about the future to know that this would not turn out well. So she stepped in, and fabricated distant relatives in Australia who were supposedly going to take care of the two youngest Sarkisyans. Instead, Meliora brought them to Sanctuary, which was at the time, basically a fancy hotel that no one ever needed to leave. Dodeka was grateful, perhaps more so than any other guest, because she understood what a gift this was. During her first week there, however, she noticed something odd about everyone else, and realized that she wasn’t built quite like them. Others were perfectly happy to have their every need catered to, but Dodeka didn’t like to feel useless, and she could see that there was plenty of work to be done at the hotel. Even if Meliora could do it all on her own, she shouldn’t have to. Dodeka needed to contribute, even if only in some small way, not only to justify her own presence in Sanctuary, but also to help protect those in most need. She knew she could have survived in the real world—even with her baby brother—but there were people there who had no choice; whose lives would have been in immediate danger if they ever found themselves back on Earth. She became the hotel’s bellhop. It was her job to check new guests in, and help them with special requests. She wouldn’t be the only employee in Sanctuary for long, though. She set an example for all to see, and pretty soon, more people were offering their various services. The staff, and the population as a whole, was growing at an alarming rate, and Meliora knew she needed to expand. People with the right experience left the original hotel, and built other structures, like houses, restaurants, and recreational areas. Sanctuary turned into a village, and then a city, and then a nation, and eventually, a fully populated world. The growth would have happened anyway, but it was Dodeka’s initiative that allowed for smooth transitions, and made way for a safe and prosperous new society on planet Dardius.

Microstory 1232: Moka Vareli

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In the year 2168, the rogue world of Durus finally became a Democratic Republic. No more would there be an unfair class system, or a corrupt government. The people were free, and justice became the norm. For forty-six years, the planet continued to fly through interstellar space, just as lonely as ever, and still reliant on its quantum connection to Earth’s resources. Then in 2204, scientists and paramounts joined forces, and expedited the journey to a new binary star system called 70 Ophiuchi. No planets orbited the stars already, so it was a perfect place for Durus to settle. They decided on a figure eight orbital pattern, so they would go around one of the stars once, then head for the other star, going around it in the opposite direction, ad infinitum. This type of orbit is so unstable that it requires careful and constant maintenance, and it’s something that would all but certainly never happen in nature. It was meant to symbolize infinity, suggesting that the planet would always survive, and go on forever. So began the Solar Democracy, though it did not function any different than before; it was again, all about symbolism. The primary individual responsible for creating the unusual pattern in the first place was a man named Ashalo Vareli. After his first successful full orbit, he and his wife celebrated, and ended up conceiving their first daughter. Moka was a paramount as well, but was born with what was perhaps the strangest power anyone had ever seen. In fact, seeing as the only kinds of special abilities that should have existed were time-based, it was hard to justify hers. She could create spatial bubbles that hovered in the air. An occupant will experience the same amount of time as they would on the outside, but will not require life’s necessities, like food, water, and a means of disposing of waste. It’s completely self-contained, and self-sufficient. A rather poorly understood substance inside the bubble will keep them alive indefinitely, while they age at a normal rate, providing nourishment and protection from external forces, until such time they are released. No one knows how it works. It was entirely possible for an individual inside one of these bubbles to break themselves free of it, so it could not be used as a prison of some kind, so the most obvious application—at least in Moka and her family’s minds—was for artificial gestation. Since most births could be handled with more traditional medical advancements, her services weren’t required all that much, but she did make herself available at all times, in case of emergency. She ended up going into the medical field, just because the experiences she had helping people as a child led her down that path. She was an imaging technician, operating machines much like the kind invented on Earth, but with special time power components.

Microstory 1231: Quivira Boyce

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What is identity? Often when factoring in the concept of time travel, people conflate an individual from one timeline with an individual from another. The truth is that these are approximations of the same person, and are always technically different. The body is composed of organs, bones, muscles, etc. Each of these parts are composed of cells, and each cell is composed of cell parts. If we go down far enough, we get to molecules, atoms, and subatomic particles. These smallest pieces are constantly being exchanged for other pieces. You’re not even the same person you were just a second ago. You’ve been shedding skin, eating food, breathing air. Your neural pattern has been updated, your microbiome has grown. So when someone says that Quivira Boyce is the female version of Gilbert Boyce, from a newer timeline, understand that this is not entirely accurate. They don’t even have the same birthdays, let alone the same genetic makeup. Their mother and father conceived them at two different points in history, and remember, even the parents aren’t the same across these realities. So really, we’re just talking about two completely different people with similar parents, born at different times, with different genes, and experiencing different life paths. Still, there seems to be some kind of quantum entanglement going on here, because even though Quivira lived a very different life than her alternate counterpart, Gilbert did, she ended up in about the same profession. They both turned out to be nighttime thieves, and while they both later redeemed themselves, they did so in wildly different ways.

Gilbert stole from people to fund his business aspirations. He committed petty crimes so that he could build an empire, boost the economy, support important charities, and screw over the government. Quivira, on the other hand, just stole because she was good at it. She looked at her jobs just as she would any other career. She didn’t have any bosses, but she kept strict hours, researched heavily before starting a new project, instituted deadlines, and improved procedural efficiency. By all accounts, she was a model employee, except that she didn’t work for a company, and she wasn’t doing anybody any good, except for herself. It took her a long time, but she finally learned the most important lesson of her life. If she was this good at doing something bad, she could probably reapply her skills, and be really good at doing something good. It was time to try, at least. She had just been helped by a couple of time travelers, so now she knew they existed. What she didn’t realize quite yet was that she had become one of them. The experience had a profound effect on her, ultimately transforming her into something new. She discovered that she could now possess other people’s bodies, while they possessed hers. This was a parlor trick on its own, but upon doing a little directed research—which was her specialty—she found someone who could help her make a real difference. Garen Ashlock could send other people through time, and maintain a parallel temporal connection while his tether to them remained intact. By combining his ability with hers, Quivira could possess people in the past, and alter their lives for the better, using information about their evitable futures. Of course, the world at large never learned of what she was, or of all the people she helped, but she did become a lauded hero amongst other time travelers; an admiration which was well-deserved. She was even given the opportunity to erase the absolute biggest mistake of her own life.

The Advancement of Mateo Matic: November 19, 2257

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In movies, people often remained standing when a cop or surgeon had to deliver bad news to them. Their knees always buckled, and they always regretted it. She still had hope that what her friend was about to tell her wasn’t the worst news she could receive, but Leona still sat down, just in case. “What is it?”

“We found Mateo,” Eight Point Seven had the unfortunate task of telling her.

On the surface, that sounded like good news, but Leona knew it wasn’t. “Where?”

“At the bottom of a cliff.”

Her breath escaped from her, and she had to steal one back. “This was last year?”

“Yes.”

“Where’s Trinity?”

“I know what you’re thinking.” Eight Point Seven reached into her pocket, and removed a dog tag. “She already tried.”

Leona knew exactly what that dog tag meant. “It was murder?”

“Trinity watched it happen from a distance, but she was unable to change it.”

“She has a rule that there are no time powers on this planet.”

“She made an exception, and she’s heartbroken that she couldn’t stop it.”

“Where the hell did Briar get the hundemarke?”

“How did you know it was Briar?”

“He’s the most likely suspect. My guess is he thought he was protecting me, or something.”

“That’s exactly what he said.”

“Where is he?”

“Briar? Or Mateo?”

“Briar isn’t relevant anymore. He can go jump off his own cliff, for all I care.”

“Mateo is in a stasis pod. We figured you would want to see him before...”

“Before he had a whole year to decompose?” Leona guessed. “That was thoughtful of you. I’m not sure if I want to see his body, though.”

Eight Point Seven nodded sadly. “Whatever you want.” She waited a respectful few minutes before continuing, “do you know what his wishes were?”

“It doesn’t matter what he wanted. He signed a contract.”

“Oh?”

“When he became Patronus of Dardius, he agreed to have his body transported back there upon death. They have this whole ceremony planned for him. They say it’ll be bigger than our wedding.”

“Oh, wow. How will you do that? Do we have a means of reaching Dardius? The reframe engine would still take four thousand years.”

“Thanks to Hogarth, we have a much faster way.”

“What did she do?”

“She’s on Glisnia right now, making sure everything is ready for the colonists when they arrive in four years. She sent a message to me using Ellie’s radio program, saying she discovered a Nexus replica there.”

“Really?”

“And according to the system, the Dardius Nexus was rebuilt, and is now fully operational. Hogarth hasn’t gone anywhere, but all connections are ready.”

“So, we just need to get to Glisnia.”

“Yeah, but there’s no rush. Mateo didn’t say specifically how long his survivors have to get the body there, but what are they gonna do, fine me for being late? I would like a small service here, just for us.”

“That can be arranged,” Eight Point Seven said.

“Maybe I do need to talk to Briar...for practical purposes. I need to find out who gave him the hundemarke.”

“That can be arranged as well.”

Leona was numb as Eight Point Seven led her down the hallway, towards where they were holding Briar. When she left to clear the air with Cassidy, she never dreamed she would never see Mateo again. She even said she was going to forgive him one day. It was never her plan to leave him in the dog house forever. Now she wasn’t going to get a chance to heal, and more importantly, he died thinking she might never come back to him. Was this all part of the plan? Cassidy was now on their pattern. Did the powers that be decide to make her the convenient replacement character; like the female analog of Mateo? Were the two of them meant to be new partners? There was no evidence that Briar was salmon, so they couldn’t have dispatched him to kill Mateo on their behalf. But they could have dispatched someone else.

She dangled the hundemarke in front of the bars. Briar looked at it briefly; not out of shame, but more like he didn’t recognize its significance. “Who gave you this?”

“Who cares? It’s just some antique. Why don’t you look at the name?”

Leona did look at the name, but as a reflex. She knew exactly what was on it. “I know Anatol Klugman. He’s a killer, but he’s not a murder, and he sure as hell wouldn’t have manipulated a child like you to do his killing for him. Someone else gave it to you, and I wanna know who.”

Briar sighed. “Why does it matter? Don’t you wanna know about your husband?”

“This is about my husband. You were wearing this when you pushed him off the cliff, right?”

“Yeah, so...?”

“What made you think you would succeed at killing him?”

“I never planned on keeping it a secret,” Briar admitted. “I always knew I would end up here.”

“That’s not what I’m talking about. You know time travel is real, so why did you think no one would go back in time, and stop you from killing him?”

He shrugged. “I guess I didn’t think it through that much. Is that what you’re gonna do?”

“I can’t! Because you were wearing this!”

“I don’t know what that is!” he yelled right back.

“The hundemarke,” Leona began to explain. “It creates fixed moments in time. No matter how many times I travel to the past; no matter how many realities I make, this will always happen. His death can’t be undone. So I want to know, who gave it to you? I know why you wanted him dead, but there’s someone else; someone smarter, who knew exactly what would happen if you had this around your neck. Give me a name.”

Briar sighed. “I don’t have a name. I wouldn’t even be able to describe him to you. I keep getting Trinity and Ellie mixed up, because I just don’t separate faces very well.”

“You have prosopagnosia?”

“Is that what it’s called?”

Leona’s nostrils flared. “Side effect of you only knowing your mother’s face for most of your life. Eight Point Seven!” she yelled through the door. “Get back in here, please!”

Eight Point Seven returned.

“Open his cell.”

“I’m not going to do that,” Eight Point Seven said. “Look, we’re all very frustrated right now.”

“Ugh.” Leona was fed up with everyone trying to protect her. She lifted her leg, and kicked the lock as hard as she could. It didn’t tear like tin foil, but it was damaged enough to be opened with a good tug.

“What are you doing?” Eight Point Seven exclaimed.

Leona put the dog tag on herself, and pulled Briar off of his cot. Then she removed her pocket knife, and placed it right against Briar’s neck. “I can either kill him right here, or you can read his mind.”

“What are you talking about?” Eight Point Seven questioned. I can’t read minds.”

Leona drew a little blood. “Don’t lie to me! You can tease fragments from his long-term memory, and convert them to visible images.”

“Leona, that could cause permanent neurological damage, or kill him.”

“I don’t care. I need a name, and if I can’t get it, I need a face. Find out who gave him the hundemarke, and we’ll be done!”

Eight Point Seven was analyzing the situation, trying to determine if there was anything she could do to prevent this, but helping Leona was her only choice. She took one last swing at it, though. “Mateo wouldn’t want you to do this.”

“That’s actually not true at all. But it doesn’t matter what he would think. Mateo is dead, and he’s never coming back, thanks to this asshole. Now, dig into his brain, and show me who he met.”

Meanwhile, in the future, a pair of strong hands was dragging Mateo away from the cliff, and into a dark room. He couldn’t see anything but a flurry of shapes and silhouettes. He couldn’t hear anything but muffled voices arguing with each other. He couldn’t smell anything but the sickeningly sweet stench of his own blood. He couldn’t feel anything but the pain of death. He couldn’t taste anything but the irony. And before too long, he couldn’t sense anything but the slow progression of time. Until he woke up.

He fell out of the bed, naked except for the bandages wrapped around his various body parts. He didn’t feel any more pain, but also didn’t feel the squeezing lightness of pain management narcotics. This was some futuristic medical shit right here. “Baxter! Baxter, where are you!” He was still moderately woozy.

A woman ran into the room. “Thistle, lights to eleven percent.”

The lights turned on, but not too brightly. “Setting the lights to eleven percent,” a voice came from the aether.

Now Mateo could see the woman’s face. It was Ellie Underhill. He tried to catch his breath, and gather his bearings. “Report.”

“You died,” Older!Ellie revealed. “We brought you back with an extraction mirror. I’m sorry.”

“Do you know how I died?” Mateo asked.

“We do. Do you remember?”

“I remember everything. I just didn’t want to give anything away that would fuck the timeline. Where is he?” He was referring to Briar.

She knew exactly who he was talking about. “He died a long time ago.”

“What’s a long time? What year is it now?”

“Classified,” Older!Ellie said plainly.

He understood. “What can you tell me?”

“Very little,” she said. “We’re sending you back, to 2258. After your memorial.”

“I appreciate that. How did you catch Briar?”

“He confessed, as soon as he got back,” she explained. “You have to understand that he didn’t grow up with other people. He didn’t know how to—”

“I don’t need to hear his defense. Any shitstain knows to not push people off cliffs. This is on him.”

She nodded in agreeance. “You’re right. I just don’t want you to kill him right back the next time you see him.”

“Is Sarka still here?”

“No, he had to answer another call.”

“Well, if you see him before I do, would you thank him for me?”

“Yes.”

They sat in silence for a few moments.

“Are you okay?” she finally asked. “I don’t mean physically; that man is a wizard. I mean emotionally. Most people don’t live past their own deaths.”

“That’s why I’m fine,” he said, completely sincerely. “I survived it. I actually feel grateful...for you, for the good doctor, and for anyone else who was party to this that you can’t tell me.” He wasn’t at a hundred percent, however, so an affectionate embrace from Older!Ellie was quite welcomed.

After the hug, Older!Ellie removed a syringe from her trusty bag of holding. “You need about another thirty minutes to recover more naturally, so hold off, but when you take this, it will give you the energy you need to spend a half day in 2258. When it’s time for bed, though, you’re gonna crash, and sleep for about sixteen or seventeen hours. Don’t fight this. It’s vital to your health, and you’re gonna wake up feeling a lot better in 2259.”

“Okay, thank you.” He took the syringe graciously, and placed it on top of the stack of new clothes his rescuers had laid out for him on the nightstand. “What can I tell them...tell you?”

“Rule number two; no names. Tell them you were extracted, to an unknown future date, by an unknown individual or group, who never introduced themselves. Tell them you found the clothes, and directions to the time chamber, which was apparently preprogrammed to return you to your life.”

“All right. That’ll be easy to remember. Most of it isn’t a lie. I might start crying when I see Younger!You, though.”

“I’m used to people knowing things about my future that I shouldn’t, and vice versa. The younger version of me will be okay. Just don’t say anything, and she won’t ask you any questions.”

“Okay.”

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Source Variant: A Bridge Too Far (Part VIII)

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After the deed was done, there was no more talking for a good deal of time. They took their showers, ate separately, and went to bed. For the following week, they didn’t bother keeping up much with the Gondilak. They could be in the midst of a bloody internal conflict for all they knew, but the humans felt it was none of their concern. They had just desecrated several graves, and violated holy law for both species. They were never really going to get over this; not even in time. They felt like they deserved a break, and the powers that be seemed to agree, or at least they didn’t argue in whatever way they would. Saga!Three and Vearden!Two kept opening doors—to the bathroom, the kitchen, other sections of the facility—and always ended up on the other side. Vearden!Two thought maybe they were being prevented from jumping through time again because they were avoiding each other, so the powers didn’t have any opportunities to transport them all at once, but he couldn’t vocalize his theory, because they were too melancholy to exchange even one word. One day, though, they all felt a jolt, but nothing in their respective rooms changed. Still, a quick query of the facility’s system told them that it was now indeed two hundred years later. Once they were all in the same room together, the environment changed again.

They are standing in the middle of Stonehenge, in front of The Delegator. He’s an intermediary between the powers that be and salmon, much like The Emissary, but in a more middle management-like capacity, rather than as an interdepartmental message delivery system. Both this version of Vearden, and this version of Saga are familiar with him. Vearden!Two was given his second assignment through the Delegator in the other reality, and Dr. Baxter Sarka had to go through him in order to recruit Saga!Three as his physician’s assistant in this reality. Being from a different universe, Zektene has no clue who he is, though.

“Are you three feeling better?” the Delegator asks.

None of them wants to answer, for fear of making the other two feel bad. The problem with not talking to each other this whole time is that they don’t know each other’s status. They’ve been internalizing their feelings too much.

“The powers that be did not see that coming,” the Delegator continues. He’s not any more comfortable here than they are. “They didn’t know what you were going to do. I think they predicted you would somehow blow up the entire facility, or learn how to reprogram the nanites.”

“We would never have learned how to program nanites, and blowing up the facility would have alerted the Gondilak to our presence,” Vearden!Two explains.

“True. Obviously your plan worked, and you saved however many lives, while also protecting the integrity of the experiment.”

Saga!Three scoffs and exclaims, “experiment?” This is the first word she’s uttered in five days. And the only reason she spoke before that was because she stubbed her toe on the food synthesizer, and involuntarily damned God to hell for it.

“Hey, don’t yell at me,” the Delegator pleads. “Neither I, nor they had anything to do with the creation of the Gondilak. Experiment might not even be the best word for it. I just don’t know what else you would call it. Endeavor?”

“It’s fine,” Vearden!Two tries to mediate. “We’re just on edge. What are we doing here?”

“What have you been doing on Gondilak this whole time, you mean, or in Stonehenge right now?

“Both,” Saga!Three clarifies.

“Hold up,” Zektene interjects. “Before you say anything about that, who are you?”

“Oh, sorry,” Vearden!Two says. “This is the Delegator. He gives salmon assignments. Though, he’s not particularly useful. The first time he showed up was over a year after my first assignment began. For the other Saga, it had been over three years.”

“I only go where I’m needed,” the Delegator explains. “You didn’t need guidance until then, and in this reality, you haven’t need guidance here until now. I came because of how terrible your last mission was, because we felt it necessary to clear the air. Like I was saying, we did not create the Gondilak. Nor did we create the dire situation you were in two hundred years ago. The powers that be are powerful, but they are not omnipotent. They don’t control every little thing that happens in this universe, and they don’t control what happens in other universes at all. Maramon technology is so beyond their purview that the only way to stop all the problems it’s caused here is by dispatching people like you three.”

“People like us?” Saga!Three echoes. “Are you saying there are others? Is there another team, somewhere else around here?”

The Delegator is taken aback by this. He clears his throat, but can’t think of what to say.

“Oh my God, there is,” Vearden!Two suspects. “Where are they?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” the Delegator claims.

“He’s lying,” Zektene says. “But maybe you asked the wrong question, Vearden. Maybe it’s not about where they are, but when. Maybe there’s another team that comes every two hundred years as well, but always a hundred years before or after us.”

“I’m not so sure,” Saga!Three disagrees. “You’ve been through the Maramon’s computer systems more than any of us. Did you see any evidence that others have come through here?”

“No,” Zektene admits with a frown. “I guess I’ve not.”

“The Orothsew,” Vearden!Two says cryptically.

“Oh, that’s that other species, right?” Saga!Three remembers. “They evolve on that other continent, and come here once they’re developed enough.”

“Yeah,” Vearden!Two confirms, “or so we were told. Maybe we don’t have all the information. When we first found out about the true origins of the Gondilak, it was my assumption that the Orothsew were the native species here, and the Gondilak the invaders. But maybe that’s not the whole story. We always thought it strange how—I mean, don’t me wrong; the Orothsew didn’t look human—but they did look a little human. There’s another team on the other continent. No, there’s more than one team on the other continent. When the Gondilak captured me in the other reality, they said the human time travelers always showed up to help the Orothsew. Now I’m fairly certain I know why; because the Orothsew evolved from humans. They are the product of us, as altered by their own source variant.”

“What does that mean?” Zektene questions.

Saga!Three starts to work it out in her head. “The Orothsew came from humans, and the Gondilak from Maramon. They both came here, but were presumably unaware of each other, because the systems are all automated.”

Zektene seems to notice that the Delegator has been pretty quiet while Vearden!Two was trying to figure out the truth on his own. “What’s his motivation? What do the powers that be want with this planet?”

Vearden!Two shakes his head in disappointment. “We’re not here to help the Gondilak at all. The Gondilak are the enemies. I was never meant to make friends with them in the other reality; to...uncover their decency. Our objective has always been to destroy them, and we keep going off mission.”

It’s about this time that the Delegator would have let out an uncontrollable maniacal laugh, now that the three of them have figured out his secret. But he’s not an evil demon who’s trying to torture people. He’s just a soldier, following orders. So no laugh, but a bitter sigh. “You guys, like, totally tore this whole thing wide open. I didn’t let on what was happening; you just...logicked your way out of it. How the hell did you do that?”

“So, it’s true?” Saga!Three prods. “You want us to kill the Gondilak?”

“Well...that was the original idea,” the Delegator says. “It would have been easy for you to destroy the pods before they ever opened. I guess we didn’t quite realize how fond of them Vearden!Two became. I mean, they cut him dozens of times after learning he absorbed their healing powers. We also didn’t count on Ramses being here still, and filling your head with ideas of nobility. Have no fear, though, we took care of him.”

“What did you do with him?”

“That’s none of your concern,” the Delegator says. “The point is that you missed out on your opportunity. Every time you jump two hundred years forward, your job gets a little bit harder, and unfortunately, you get a little more invested in actually helping the monsters. My God, that was your first clue! They’re called..white..monsters! Why are you trying to save them!”

“Because that’s what people do,” Zektene jumps in. “I don’t know what things are like where you and the powers that be come from, but in my universe, we don’t kill people because of what they might do in the future. This isn’t even people; it’s an ever-growing population. They have a right to develop, whether you like it or not. You can’t just go back in time and nip their buds. What the hell do you think gives you the right?”

“Well, you know what Spiderman’s uncle says about power and responsibility,” the Delegator responds.

“We’re not going to do what you want,” Vearden!Two tells him defiantly. “Send us to any damn year, it doesn’t matter. We’ll always try to help.”

“Yeah, why is that?” Saga!Three asks. “Why do you keep making us jump two hundred years. If the plan was to destroy the pods, why did you make us leave at all? You can do anything, can’t you?”

“There are rules,” Vearden!Two explains for the Delegator, who obviously wants to say as little as possible. “The powers that be are playing a game, and it wouldn’t be fair—or fun—if they could just sweep the game pieces off the board with their arms. They have to actually play it, and see how things turn out. Two hundred year time jumps are just part of the gameplay that not even they can go against.”

“Look,” the Delegator finally says. “You can’t kill all of them now. I mean, you could try to develop a plague, and wipe them out, or something, but otherwise, their numbers are just too high. You can, however, weaken them. You can slow their development. There’s still time to fix this. Just make sure they don’t get too powerful, so when the Orothsew advance enough to cross the ocean, the war is...easier.”

“You don’t want a war,” Zektene spits at him. “You want a massacre. That’s horrid.”

“Well, that’s your opinion,” the Delegator says, knowing he’s far removed from the moral high ground. “Just be careful with opinions.”

“Why don’t you just send someone who’s gonna do the job you want?” Saga!Three asks the Delegator.

“Don’t give him any ideas,” Zektene says in a loud whisper.

“No, he already knows whether he can do that or not,” Vearden!Two says. “Like I was saying, that’s against the rules. They already chose their players, and if they’re not happy with us, that’s their problem.”

“So, what are we going to do?” Zektene asks her friends.

“Whatever we can,” Saga!Three replies. “Like the man said, send us to whatever year you want, we’ll continue to do the right thing. When the Orothsew come, not only will they not win the war against the Gondilak, but there will be no war. We’re gonna stop it.” She turns to address Vearden!Two and Zektene directly, ignoring the Delegator. “Throw out your McIver hats. We’re going to introduce ourselves to the Gondilak. That’s what the other reality was lacking. They were angry about being left out, and ignored. We need to show them that humans, and by extension, our descendants, aren’t all bad.”

“That’ll never work,” the Delegator says, now with a bit of an evil grin. “It’s the Orothsew who inevitably start the war, and you have no control over them.”

“Don’t we?” Vearden!Two asks rhetorically. “I think I realize why I’m working with a version of Saga from a different reality. I’m pretty sure I know who you sent to help the opposite side of this. It’s us, isn’t it? You sent...the other versions...of us.”

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Microstory 1230: Lubomir Resnik

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Lubomir Resnik was the eldest of the source mages on the mostly dead world of Durus, but that did not make him the strongest. It was quite the opposite, actually, since he was born about three and a half months before he was due. Baby Lubomir struggled a lot in his early life, but of course, he kept fighting, and survived well into adulthood. He was a loving human being, who liked to be around people. As a result, he was perhaps a bit too trusting of others, and they sometimes disappointed him. He never stopped believing in them, though, and he never stopped caring for pretty much everyone he could find. He was always mediating some kind of argument between his peers, and he didn’t like it when there was any sort of conflict. Since he was a premature baby, Lubomir was originally meant to be the youngest, but that spot eventually went to Valda Ramsey, after her pregnant mother found herself having unwittingly been sent five years into the future. He was always impressed with Valda’s strength and bravery after having missed so much of early life on the rogue world. He didn’t give her much thought beyond that, however, until they were both older. Then he couldn’t stop thinking about her. She would come to develop feelings for him as well, though their relationship wasn’t the easiest thing to deal with. While there was a strict no-child policy for all mages, which was something that everybody agreed to, there weren’t any rules against two mages being a couple, or one mage finding some other mate elsewhere. Still, the others didn’t appreciate that Lubomir and Valda were a pair. There were some jealousy issues, and it was an all around difficult time for the whole group. Eventually, their friends just had to accept that this was the way things were, and there was nothing they could do to change it.

Well, Lubomir and Valda did end up having a child together, and if any of the others found out, it could be disastrous. Fortunately for them, they were all essentially immortal, which made it easier to avoid being caught. The source mages had access to a special class of time monsters called verters. They were civilized and vocal, unlike most of the other temporal anomalies. They had the ability to alter a target’s age,  to make them either older or younger. They could use this as a weapon, but they were generally pretty agreeable. If the source mages hadn’t ultimately been killed in battle, they could have effectively remained young and healthy forever because of this alliance. Either way, it provided them with an abnormal perspective on life. No one questioned it when the two lovebirds went off on their own for several months while she was pregnant. They didn’t do the math, and realize what must have happened. They just moved on with their lives, and greeted them both with just as much politeness as ever when they finally returned after their daughter’s birth. Of course, the new parents couldn’t keep the lie going forever, unless they were willing to give up their child, which is what they felt they had no choice but to do. Lubomir was against it. He thought the others would understand why they had broken the rules, and that things were going to be okay. But he never found out whether he was right, because the others didn’t learn of Jayde’s existence until many years later. They didn’t react too kindly to her then, but they would never know what would have happened had they just been honest from the beginning. Lubomir desperately wanted to believe that history would have turned out better, but that was the compassionate side of him, and if he was going to survive the aftermath of the war, he needed to get over that.