Microstory 1449: Gender Laws

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Under the Republic on Durus, women were considered untrustworthy. Later on, laws will be passed to allow a woman to earn merit points for her loyalty, and enjoy some extra freedoms, but these freedoms will never include full autonomy. They will never be able to vote, and they certainly could never be allowed to hold public office. They were allowed to work certain jobs, but only under heavy supervision, and with responsibilities that didn’t result in too much damage when they inevitably made mistakes. But what they had not considered until around 2109 was the definition of woman. As bad as the Durune Republicans were, they didn’t see themselves as sexist, homophobic, or transphobic. Their distrust of women was rooted in something completely different from the systemic sexism that pervaded Earthan history. They cited very specific examples of particular women who caused problems for society. It still wasn’t right, but it was at least based on psychology and culture, rather than physiology. At least that was how they justified their position. That led to some questions, however, that no one had had time to think about until the system was fully established. It was clear that two men were totally free to be in a relationship together, but what about two women? Well, lesbianism in itself wasn’t wrong, but now there was a lack of male influence. They definitely couldn’t raise children, because..same problem. New laws had to be passed under the third administration that covered these topics. Lesbian relationships still required male supervision, so a man had to be included to some capacity. This man was obviously not entitled to sex from either one of them, but as far as household duties and child rearing were concerned, he would be in charge. After this was settled, there were more questions on gender that needed to be answered.

Because of the prevalence of time powers—and the absence of help from Earth—technology developed on its own unique path. It was a little steampunk, and a little sword fantasy, and even a little bit space western. They still had doctors, but the medical facilities were severely underresourced. About the only thing they excelled in was the dissemination of theoretical knowledge. The library came through completely intact, which allowed anyone to learn just about anything they wanted. In fact, throughout all of history on this planet, no leader made any attempt to stifle the pursuit of an education. Not even Smith tried to stop people from getting smarter. Unfortunately, this wasn’t enough, because reading about performing a complex surgery was a lot different than having the experience to do it safely. The only surgeries that were being done were the essential ones, because if something went wrong, the patient was likely going to die anyway, so at least someone tried. Sex reassignment surgery did not fall into this category. No one had the expertise required to complete a transformation, and they certainly didn’t have the experience. The few doctors with official credentials who made it through the Deathfall didn’t even know how to do it, and either way, they died decades ago. Technology was indeed progressing, but it was happening at a snail’s pace compared to where they would be if they were still on Earth. Still, as far as the Republicans were concerned, an individual had the right to identify as any gender they wanted. This didn’t mean every woman’s problems were solved. According to the Republic’s main tenets, women were not trustworthy. It didn’t matter if they were born with female parts, or not. So someone born a girl could not just claim to be a man when he got older, and suddenly his life was as easy as it was for other men. People generally agreed to use whatever pronouns he needed, but he still did not enjoy the upper class life. On the other hand, if a man decided to start identifying as a woman, she would lose all masculine advantages and entitlements, so there was very little incentive to transform in that direction. Still, it happened, when a woman-on-the-inside just couldn’t take behaving like someone she wasn’t, even though it meant losing a lot of privileges. There were more tweaks to gender laws to be ironed out over time, but this was the start.

Microstory 1448: Ecrin’s Return

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When the final battles of the war against the time monsters began, the source mages retreated into their special hidden dimension. They took with them nearly a hundred and fifty people, who could theoretically restart the population, assuming the rest of the humans on Durus were killed in the attacks. It would be a long time before anyone knew what happened to these people, because only one of them returned to the main dimension. Her name was Ecrin Cabral, and she was one of the first town mages ever. She protected Orabela Vinci when the latter chose not to be proverted to an older age. In reward for this, Orabela gifted Ecrin with the power of agelessness. So she was eighty-nine years old when she returned to the main dimension in the year 2101, but she still looked as she did when she was seventeen. She was horrified to find the world she once loved had been destroyed, and not by the war, but by the survivors. As a woman, as a mage, and as a human being with a conscience, she did not feel like she could stand by, and let things go any further. So she fought. She used the skills she learned over the course of six decades to fight against the establishment, pretty much all by herself. She tried to take the leaders down, and open up people’s eyes to the damage they were doing to civilization. Unfortunately, people had already made similar attempts before, and they had always failed. She didn’t really have anything that the other rebels didn’t. The authorities snatched her up, and stuck her in a room, so they could ask her where she had been for the last eleven years. Well, she wouldn’t tell them anything. No matter who asked, or how they asked, she literally remained silent. She would not tell anyone what happened to the source mages, or where they were now. The interrogators couldn’t even be sure that she knew the answers to their questions. They kept her alive for her time power, and because she was useful in many other ways.

They wanted Ecrin to propagate her species. It was already clear that the children of former mages had powers of their own. These powers were weak, however, and often not all that helpful, which was why this new class of people was called mage remnants. Ecrin never lost her powers, however, so if she had children, the assumption was that they would be full mages in their own right, and could bring Durus back to its former glory. At this point in history, there were a lot of things that men were allowed to do to control the women around them, but rape wasn’t one of them...yet. Ecrin didn’t want to bear children for anyone, and no one was going to make her. So they locked her up in a very uncomfortable cell, and every single day, someone would come back, and ask her if she changed her mind. She never did. She took the torture, and never budged. The world had changed so much while she was gone, though, and there was no reason for Ecrin to believe they would magically get better while she was in hock. She feared the government would only get worse, and policymakers would make her do what they wanted. There were a few options. They could keep rape illegal, but not enforce it strongly enough, or deter it. They could twist the wording of the laws, so that their way of forcing her to have children couldn’t be construed as rape at all, but something else. Or they could simply make rape legal, or legal under certain circumstances. She couldn’t take the chance that any of these would end up happening, so she took dramatic action. Luckily, her doctor was sympathetic, so he agreed to a medical procedure that the government wouldn’t like. He performed a tubal ligation, which served to sterilize Ecrin’s body, so that she couldn’t have children anymore, even if she wanted to. This didn’t guarantee that she wouldn’t be raped—in fact, she figured the chances were high someone would do that to her as punishment—but it did prevent her oppressors from getting what they wanted. The truth was, had the world turned out differently after the war, she might have considered settling down, and starting a family. But she couldn’t do it if it benefited a misogynistic government, or really anyone but herself. They moved Ecrin to a slightly more comfortable cell, right next to her doctor. She wasn’t released until 2161, when the Republic finally came crashing down.

Microstory 1447: First Elections

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When the Republic first gained traction, the leader of the movement declared himself the first president. He did this with the promise that he would step down, and make way for a replacement in a few years, after the first elections decided on the first official regime. That was exactly what he did in the year 2100. He didn’t even run for reëlection, or allow loyalists to start a write-in campaign. He firmly believed in the government they were building, and didn’t want anyone to be in power who did not deserve it, and did not prove to the people that he did. The system was staunchly misogynistic, but within its own parameters, a fair meritocracy; well...maybe not quite at first. Anyone who wanted to run for a particular position was free to do so, as long as he fit the initial criteria, number one being that he had a penis. Every candidate was given equal opportunity to announce their platform, and raise awareness. Seeing as money was a new thing on this world, they weren’t quite sure how they were going to prevent the wealthiest from having an unfair advantage, but they knew they wanted to protect the elections from it. They didn’t want it to be like it was on Earth. It was the preliminary administration’s responsibility to figure this out. There were technically around twenty thousand eligible voters living in Aljabara at the time of the election. When it came to voting itself, there was a secret rule about who was eligible, and who wasn’t. Bear in mind that formal misogyny was only beginning to take hold, and the Republicans feared that a rebellion would rise up once more if they did not at least pretend to make things fair. Everyone over the age of fifteen was allowed to vote, but that didn’t mean every vote was going to be counted. The voting committee left themselves under no obligation to reveal the final tally of the votes. All they were required to do was announce who won which race. Voters did not place their ballots in the box themselves. They handed it to one of the poll workers, who dropped it into the box in front of their eyes. This gave the appearance of equality, but there was something else they were doing at the same time. Each worker wore a special stamp ring on his finger, which he used to mark the corner of each ballot he received from a woman. Every ballot bearing one of these markings was simply thrown into the recycling bin at the time of counting. The counters didn’t even bother looking at who the woman voted for, because to them, it no longer mattered. Their opinion stopped being valid six years ago. The first official administration would go on to make voting illegal for women, and this was always the plan, but the Republicans didn’t want anyone to know that. There was actually a lot they had planned for the future that they realized they couldn’t introduce all at once. Had they wanted to do that, they would have needed a monarch, and if there was one thing all monarchs from history had in common, it was that they were always—be it sooner or later—overthrown. While things had been bad for years now, this was the day freedom truly died on Durus.

Microstory 1446: Rise Up and Fall Down

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When the Republicans took over Durus, they did so insidiously and strategically. They didn’t just start screaming about how much they hated women. They didn’t even openly talk about women disparagingly. They dressed it up in innuendo and subtext. They started out by mentioning all the people they believed had caused most of their problems, and conveniently left out all the men that fell into that category. Smith and Kosta were undoubtedly villains in Durune history, but even though they agreed with this truth, acknowledging it was counterproductive to the Republicans’ goals, so they deliberately focused on only the women. By the time the majority of the population figured out what was happening, it was already too late. Their numbers were too great, and they had control of all of the resources that Aljabara needed to survive. They didn’t have everyone on their side, but they had enough. Plenty of men were completely against this insane new system. It wasn’t like they turned all of them into misogynists overnight. Further generations would be indoctrinated into these ideals, but until then, there was going to be a lot of internal conflict. In the beginning, detractors tried to remain peaceful, and use reason against the fear and distrust that the Republicans were trying to instill in everyone. Over the course of about a year, however, this method was proving to be ineffective, and some of them decided that it was never going to work. So they strayed, and started working on more violent solutions. There were actually two entirely separate groups who were not aware of each other, because each had to operate quietly and secretively. A war broke out in 2095, where insurgents attempted to gain control over Watershed, so the civilians would no longer be held to these people’s whims. Unfortunately, the Republicans were more prepared for the attack than they knew they would be. No one had betrayed them, and warned the Republicans that the attack was coming. They were just ready for anything, because they were fairly confident it was going to happen sooner or later. The rebels lost not only this first battle, but also the support of the people. The Republicans twisted their actions, and claimed that the rebels weren’t trying to make the world a better place, but a worse one. By calling their system a republic, they could easily paint any opponent as a fascist, or maybe an anarchist, whether this was true or not. So the rebels not only failed, but actually worsened the situation, because now they were the bad guys. The Republicans were even smart enough to leave the survivors alive, suggesting that they were the victims, who were only trying to do the right thing. Over the decades, more groups would rise up, but the establishment labeled them all terrorists, and easily maintained their power.

The Advancement of Mateo Matic: Tuesday, July 4, 2119

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As they were on their way back to Tribulation Island, Mateo and Ellie came up with a lie. Conventionally, seers were heard, but not seen, so to speak. They gave people advice, and as long as they had proven themselves trustworthy, most time travelers believed them. Furthermore, other time travelers would usually believe someone who claimed to have been guided by a seer, towards some action. There was a lot of potential for abuse, and of course, there was no way to know how often this happened, but the two of them needed it right now. They were going to exploit this phenomenon, and claim that a seer told Ellie to take J.B.’s place in the circle of Cassidy cuffers.

First, they needed to come up with a riddle. Seers never gave perfect instructions. One would never say, take the Cassidy cuffs from J.B., and place them on your own wrists on July 3, 2118. Keep them on for precisely this amount of time. They had to be real vague about it, so their words could be misinterpreted once heard, but unmistakable when the moment came. That is, the premonition would fail if simply hearing it prompted immediate—and therefore premature—action. It had to come with a temporal marker that still prevented the listener from seeking it out, but once the signal appeared, there could be no denying its validity. Mateo felt pretty proud of himself for devising a reasonably plausible fake prophecy. Ellie was supposedly told by someone she trusted that she needed to free the ursine on the beach. Ursine meant bear, which was part of Jeremy Bearimy’s full name. It wasn’t likely that she would ever encounter a real bear, or some other kind of bear-like something or other on a beach at any other juncture. So it was something she couldn’t have understood when she first reportedly heard it, but also something that could not be ignored, now that she knew J.B. was on Tribulation Island, and in a way, chained up.

Leona’s level of suspicion fluctuated, but ultimately remained unchanged. The fact that Ellie had this prophecy to fulfill, and that Mateo was in on it, explained why he was acting shady earlier. But then her suspicions rose back to where they were, because now she wondered why he was involved, and what else he wasn’t telling her. This was ludicrous, he was supposed to be able to tell her anything. He was just so caught up in it now, though. Telling her the truth late, not telling her until she found out on her own; which was better? If only he legit knew an actual seer himself, who could tell him what to do, his life would be a lot easier. Why was it that everyone seemed to have their own personal fortune-teller, but he had seemingly never even met one before? Did they even exist? Anyway, J.B. was happy to give up his cuffs, because the FOMO was real, but he would need them back eventually, because the FOMO was just as real on this side. Ariadna never even suspected it had anything to do with her, and Ellie still didn’t tell Mateo why it did. She didn’t seem to be doing anything with her power yet.

The next day, Mateo decided to finally tell the group what Jupiter asked of them. They didn’t act upset about not having been told before, so that was a big relief. It sure didn’t hurt that he came to them with a solution in hand. The details weren’t all there, and they didn’t necessarily have everything they needed, but it was a great start. The strange thing was that Trinity, Thor, and Abigail were nowhere to be found. They never came back to Tribulation Island themselves, and when J.B. and Gilbert went out looking for them, they found no one on Lorania either. They weren’t instrumental to the Vearden plan, but they were still meant to stick around and help.

Sanaa decided to sum up their conversation thus far. “Okay, so we need a fully mature clone body of Vearden Haywood, so that Ellie can transfer the real Vearden’s consciousness into it. And we need it by the time of his predestined death in six days.”

“That’s right,” Ellie said. “I thought my friends were going to work on that while we were gone, but their own plans have apparently changed. I don’t know where they are.”

“We shouldn’t need them,” Ariadna put forth. “If Thālith al Naʽāmāt Bida can do something in 2400, then someone in The Parallel can do it right now. This place is still millennia ahead in terms of technology.”

“There’s an issue with that,” Leona reminded them. “They’re not allowed to help us when it comes to what we do with the main sequence. They’re not allowed to do anything.” She was right. There was no guarantee that the Parallel natives would agree to help, and they did need their help to pull it off. If it was a violation of their non-interference laws, there wasn’t likely anything they could do to convince them to make an exception. As soon as they asked whoever it was they asked, they would receive the only answer they would ever get.

“Sanaa,” Ariadna said, “you figured out how to make a transition window go both ways, and extend the time it’s open.”

“For ten minutes, yeah. Like you were saying, though, I only held the window open longer. These things aren’t capable of opening a window that isn’t already there, if that’s what you were thinking.”

“They have to be,” Mateo argued. “I mean, the reason we’re all on this new pattern is because J.B. and I and Leona are now sharing our respective patterns. Jupiter may only have one cuff on, but we still have to have access to his power. We’re expected to not try to use it, but Sanaa and Leona proved they can be hacked. There must be a way to steal it from him, and transition whenever we want to.”

“The question I have,” J.B. began, “is why do we want to do that? Why do we need to transition before Vearden’s day?”

“Yeah, I was on my way to explaining that” Ariadna continued. “I assume you need a sample of his blood ahead of time, in order to make the clone?”

“That’s right,” Ellie confirmed. “That’s a good idea. If you guys can figure out how to get me back to the other reality, we can sneak a sample, and come back. We can’t do anything without his DNA.”

“Okay.” Leona nodded her head, and paced a little bit. “Sanaa and I will work on the cuffs. Hopefully we’ll have a way soon. If not, maybe we can just ask Jupiter for help. If he really wants this done, nothing should stop him from getting involved.”

“You have over two days,” Mateo advised them. The way I remember it, our past selves are in the middle of the Xearea expiation. No one is even on the island in the main sequence right now, because they’re all scattered throughout the timeline, filling in for the Savior.”

“Okay, great,” Sanaa said. “I do know how to interface with the cuffs using a separate screen. I find it easier to work on something larger.”

“Agreed.”

While they went off to work their magic, Mateo took Ellie aside to get a few answers. “What powers does Ariadna have, and why do you need them?”

“Don’t you trust me, Matty?” Ellie asked, batting her eyes at him.

“I do, but I still wanna know. I can’t believe it didn’t occur to me before, but I’ve never known what she was capable of. They call her The Escapologist, but she doesn’t say where she escaped from.”

“That has nothing to do with it,” Ellie replied. I mean, it’s not completely unrelated, but it’s not super relevant either.”

“So, how ‘bout it?”

Ellie tipped her forehead down respectfully. “Very well. She’s a dimensional hacker.”

“I don’t know what that means.”

“Some people can create and inhabit parallel spatial and temporal dimensions. They use these to hide away from the world, watch people in secret, give themselves a little extra time, imprison people, or do any number of other things. Only certain people can access certain dimensions, each for unique reasons. Ariadna, on the other hand, can access any and all of them, no matter what. You can’t keep her out.”

“So, you’re trying to break into one of these things?”

“I am, yes. It sounds malicious, but it’s not.”

“I wasn’t thinking that.”

“There are people trapped in one of these. It’s called The Fourth Quadrant. Now that I know about the Parallel, I’m starting to see why they called it that. A very long time ago, even from this point in time, a man created a copy of the Kansas City Metropolitan area.”

“Oh yeah, I’ve heard of it,” Mateo recalled. “Ace and Serkan got mixed up in all that back in the day.”

“Yes,” Ellie said. “They managed to escape from that world, along with K-Boy. No one else did, though. Jupiter Rosa has a jacket that can get there, but it only can only transport two people at a time. I’m trying to get everybody out.”

“So, you’re going to go back to, what, 2024, and free them?”

Ellie shook her head. “I was just hoping to do it today or tomorrow. If my calculations are correct, it’s been less than seven years for the people in there. Time moves differently for them.”

“Is there a reason you’re keeping your intentions a secret from your friends, or Ariadna herself, for that matter?”

“I don’t want to put anyone else at risk. Tauno Nyland didn’t trap those people in there because of any particular disdain he has for them. He’s just a sadist who likes toying with people. He allowed a few people to escape, because he found it entertaining, but he’s not going to stand by and let me cancel his favorite transdimensional TV show.”

“If Ariadna can access this Fourth Quadrant world, can she not get us back to the main sequence without Jupiter’s help?”

“As I understand it, the Escapologist doesn’t use her powers, for reasons she won’t fully explain, but I think it has something to do with whatever inspired her nickname. If she can get to the main sequence, she either doesn’t know it, or doesn’t want to do it. The only way to get this done is if I just borrow her powers, and put myself—and myself alone—at risk. I didn’t think I would ever get the opportunity to do this, but then I ended up here, and realized that opportunity has been waiting for me. It won’t last forever, though.”

“Let me help you,” Mateo requested. “I get you to the Fourth Quadrant, you get me to Vearden.”

“I don’t need your help getting there, I already have the power. I just need time to practice. That’s what I was doing all last night while everyone else was asleep.”

“You do need my help,” Mateo contended. “I imagine you have to travel back to Earth, because that’s where the barrier between the worlds is. The intergalactic transporter technician said they’ll take me anywhere I want to go. I can’t promise that offer extends to you, since you weren’t with us at the time.” That wasn’t entirely truthful. People here were very relaxed and accommodating. They would probably help Ellie without knowing anything about her, because they would see no reason not to.

“Mateo, I just told you that I’m doing this to keep everyone else safe. If Tauno goes after me, he won’t go after anyone else. He’s a terrible person, but he doesn’t retaliate against people who’ve not gone against him.”

“Did the entirety of the KC Metro piss him off?”

“Those are just quantum duplicates,” Ellie clarified. “He doesn’t see that as hurting them. To him, the copies aren’t real people.”

“Well, I can’t imagine he’ll deign to interfere with whatever Jupiter Fury has planned for me and mine. If anything, my being there will protect you.”

“I dunno...”

“No one should do anything alone. You might run into an obstacle that requires you to be in two places at once. What will you do then?”

She sighed.

“Miss Underhill...”

“Okay, fine. You can come. But just you. I don’t want anyone else involved, despite what you may think about what Tauno would or wouldn’t do in regards to Jupiter’s plans.”

“I’m telling Leona the truth, however. I won’t tell Ariadna, or anyone else, but I can’t keep lying to my wife.”

“Okay. I’m gonna go keep practicing.”

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Glisnia: Forerunners (Part I)

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Hogarth Pudeyonvic and Hilde Unger were back on Tribulation Island, awaiting some good news. It was time to go back home; or at least the last place they were living before their friend’s memorial services. They were pretty sure they would be able to get back to the Milky Way galaxy, but it might be a little more difficult to reach Glisnia specifically. The intergalactic transporter there was destroyed, and though they asked its mysterious engineer to repair it for them, she seemed hesitant to do that. It wasn’t that she thought it would be bad to help them, but she was very, very old, and none of this mattered to her. Anyway, it wasn’t absolutely vital. They really just needed to get close, and then they could travel the rest of the way by ship.

“Okay, I found it,” the technician said.

“What took so long?” Hilde asked. “That’s not a criticism, I’m just curious.”

“I had to change...a parameter.”

“What does that mean?” Hilde pressed.

“You had to adjust the fourth dimension, didn’t you?” Hogarth guessed.

“That’s right,” the technician confirmed. “I can send you to the recent past, to just before the Nexus replica explodes...or the far future, to just after it comes back online.”

“How far in the future?”

“The year 2400,” the tech replied.

“Why is that?” Hilde asked her wife. “Why that year?”

“That must be when The Engineer finally gets around to fixing the replica.”

“Well, we don’t want that,” Hilde decided. “We’ll go to the past instead.”

“We shouldn’t do that,” Hogarth argued. “We don’t wanna run into our Past!Selves, or do anything else that could disrupt the timeline.”

“What are you talking about?” Hilde questioned. “We’re time travelers, we do that all the time.”

“That’s true,” the tech agreed. “You’re time travelers. Twenty-two sixty-two, twenty-four hundred, what’s the difference? You may as well see the future. You’ve already done that once, right? Aren’t you from 2017?”

“Twenty-sixteen,” Hogarth corrected. “He’s right. We don’t even have to go to Glisnia. We could go to Earth, or Gatewood, or back to that place where we met the Engineer.”

“Oh no, I can’t get you there,” the tech said.

“Didn’t you modify the machine, as I instructed?” Hogarth wondered.

“I did not receive authorization to do that from Transportation Administrator Moss. She says we’re not ready to explore other universes. If you want to return, you’ll need to go to Glisnia.”

“I really do want that,” Hogarth said to her wife. She didn’t need her permission, per se, but every decision they made needed to be unanimous. Their relationship didn’t work when one of them resented the other.

Hilde shrugged. “Glisnia 2400; sounds like a TV show spinoff. Let’s do it.”

The tech nodded, and started pressing the appropriate buttons as the two travelers left the control room, and stepped into the transportation chamber. “Thirty second warning,” he announced, as per protocol.

“Thanks for helping us with this,” Hilde said.

Orange light rained down from the ceiling, and overwhelmed their senses, but then a problem arose. Hogarth thought she had gotten over this, but apparently it was still in her. Back in 2016, she built a machine she hoped would transport her to another world. It went wrong, and ended up sending the entire town with her. Though this would turn out to be for the best, it didn’t not come without its problems. For one, Hogarth began to suffer a time affliction. It wasn’t a pattern, like the salmon had, or a power, like the choosing ones. It was very difficult to control, very unpleasant, and dangerous. The last time it happened to her, she thought would be the last ever, but it was starting again. She was about to explode herself, and be sent to some random point in spacetime. “Wait! Abort!” It was too late. The explosion swelled from inside her just as the machine was reaching its final phase. Both of these energies released simultaneously.

Time slowed down. Hogarth couldn’t so much as blink her eyes, but she could still see. Her explosive power, and the Nexus replica lights, were crashing into each other, and igniting. She could feel her atoms doing the same, and being ripped apart from each other. She always knew this was what was happening, but it was the first time she could actually perceive it. She didn’t detect any pain, but it was still horrific. Then the scene changed, and she could see more than she ever thought possible. The entire network of Nexus replicas, and original Nexa was before her. She couldn’t reach any of them, but she could see them. She could watch them. She could witness them exploding all around her. First, the one on Durus, and then Earth, and then the Metanexus, which served as an entry point to the multiverse. Be it the past, or the future, they were all falling apart, and now she knew why. She was the one responsible for it. She had destroyed them all.

Time restarted, the network faded away, and her molecules reconstituted themselves. She fell to her back, and just lied there a moment. She still wasn’t in any pain, but she couldn’t bring herself to sit up, and get a look around. She and her friends had been trying to figure out who was running around, destroying Nexus replicas. Now they knew it was her. It was all her fault. While she was trying to work up the courage to get to her feet, and make sure Hilde was okay, Hilde did it first.

“Are you okay? Can you move?”

“I’m all right,” Hogarth responded. “You?”

“I’m okay,” Hilde said. “What happened?”

“That’s what I would like to know.” The tech was stepping into the chamber, and approaching them. “The controls are dead. I don’t know where or when we are. It’s not Darius, though, I’ll tell ya that much. That room is of a slightly different design.”

Hogarth finally got to her feet, and looked around. The place looked all right, so if the controls were off, it was probably a software issue, and hopefully easy to fix. “In that case, there’s only one way to find out.”

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Hilde asked again.

“I’m fine. I’ll explain later, but I need to know where the machine sent us first.”

“And why I came with,” the tech added.

“No, I know the answer to that,” Hogarth told him. “I screwed up.” She led them down the hallway, and towards the exit. There were almost no windows in this building. Glass was both reflective, and transparent, so it was counterproductive to the machine’s need to contain temporal energy. The window between the control room and the transportation chamber came from an unknown source. Whenever a new replica was built, the directions instructed the maker to leave that space blank. At some point by the end of the project, the window fabricated itself, out of an unknown material. It should have protected the tech, but Hogarth’s explosion must have interfered with its integrity.

Before she could open the door to the outside, it opened for her. A mech was on the other side, sporting a disconcerting smile. “The Forerunners. You have returned.” This wasn’t as glorious of a title as it sounded like. A forerunner was a type of ship that flew ahead of a new colony’s first colony vessel. If something ended up having gone wrong with the automated factory ships that were sent even earlier, they would be able to fix everything before the colonists arrived. When Hogarth and Hilde appeared in the Gliese 832 star system, they became the first vonearthans to set foot on Glisnia, which was its only terrestrial planet. This made them notable figures in Glisnian history, of course, but there was nothing else special about them, and they didn’t do anything. The only nanofactory ships that ever malfunctioned did so over a planet called Varkas Reflex. So Hogarth and Hilde used their time alone to build their own little home on the surface. It also gave them time to explore a little, and discover the Nexus replica in the first place, which they had tried to keep a secret. Apparently that plan failed.

“We have,” Hilde said. “Report.”

“It is the year 2400,” the mech began. “The Matrioshka brain is complete, and we’re now working on the body.”

“The whatnow?” Hogarth questioned. “I don’t follow.”

The mech now tried to show them a smirk, but it was even more unsettling than the first facial expression. Artificial intelligences were perfectly capable of understanding both why smiles were socially beneficent, and even also how to make one. Unfortunately, except for the ones that were built with synthetic skin—and, more importantly, lips—the actual execution of a smile was generally extremely difficult.  Their mouths just didn’t look quite right. Eye smiles were generally pretty good, though, so people were taught to focus on them instead. He bowed graciously, and stepped aside, so they could walk through the door.

Here there was a window, showing that they were no longer on Glisnia; probably because it didn’t exist anymore. It was taken apart completely, and integrated into a megastructure surrounding the star. A matrioshka brain was always on the schedule for the future of the star system. They only landed on the planet to get started, but the world wasn’t going to last forever. It was far more valuable in its new form. A dyson shell was constructed around Gliese 832. Most of the energy was absorbed by these artificial structures, and used to power their systems. The rest was bled off into space in the form of infrared light, and a not insignificant amount of visible light. They weren’t opaque spheres like old fiction liked to portray them as. That didn’t mean all the energy that escaped was completely useless. All they needed to do was build another shell around the first one. And then another, and another, and another. They built as many as they needed to maximize the energy input; until building more would be more trouble than it was worth.

They were clearly finished with this process, having been working on it for the last a hundred and fifty years. That was incredibly impressive, even for a group of artificials whose sole responsibility was to make it happen. “Was there enough raw material in this system to do this?” Hogarth asked.

“For the brain, yes,” the mech replied. “We sent refinery ships to nearby systems to get material for the rest.”

“Moar!” the tech exclaimed jokingly. They needed to learn his name.

“Indeed,” the mech agreed. Surely he had a name as well. “We do need even more, and we have to go farther out. That’s where you come in.”

“Me?” Hogarth asked. “What can I do?”

The mech gestured towards the door behind them. “You obviously have a way to travel the stars. We need you to replicate that for us, but on a much, much larger scale.”

She didn’t do that. She didn’t build the Nexa, or develop any other form of faster-than-light travel. That was Hokusai’s deal. She was more about parallel dimensions, and artificial gravity. Still, it should be possible. But why didn’t they figure it out themselves? “Why didn’t you just figure it out yourselves, while I was gone? Surely, with all this time...”

“We’ve been locked out of this structure since we discovered it. A human woman named Azure Vose told us to—and I quote—am-scray.”

“That sounds like her,” Hilde said.

“We just have one condition,” the mech said in a worried voice. “The other mechs won’t let you be involved unless you become one of us.”

“I have to upgrade?” Hogarth asked, though she knew that was what he meant.

“Humans aren’t allowed here. It’s been declared. Upgrading isn’t enough, though. You have to upload.”

This was no huge surprise. Though humans weren’t illegal in the beginning, it was probably always going to end up like this. There were hundreds of billions of stars in this galaxy alone. No one was going to get pissy about one of them being set aside for a particular group of vonearthans. Hell, there could be hundreds, thousands, millions, even billions of them in the future. There were plenty of resources for everyone. That wasn’t really the problem, though. Hogarth wasn’t sure she wanted to become completely inorganic. She grew up in a time before that was possible, and had been so busy as a traveler, that she had never given it any real thought. He was right, however, that she didn’t belong here in her current form. This planet was not meant for her, as it was designed for artificial entities. Perhaps it was time—not to change this fact—but to change herself. The only question was whether Hilde could ever feel the same way. Would she be willing to upgrade as well?

“I’m in,” Hilde said, shockingly. “I wanna see what this matrioshka body ends up looking like, and if nothing else, I need to survive long enough for you to finish it. Let’s do it.”

That was easy.

< > Entire Story

Microstory 1445: Four Witches Stand

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By the time the Mage Protectorate fell, there were three women who were largely responsible for saving the human race on Durus. Hogarth Pudeyonavic sent the Springfielders through the Deathfall portal in the first place; this much was common knowledge. It wasn’t until later that people learned that, had she not expedited the process with her machine, the portal still would have pulled them through, but it would have chewed them up, rather than swallowing them whole. She was also instrumental in protecting the town following the thankful disappearance of its first leader, Smith. Councilwoman Hardt was a true leader, and continued to protect the people, even after all the terrible things they put her through. Jayde Kovac was a young girl with immense powers, who ended the war with the time monsters, and rescued the entire current population of Durus in 2092 when all of the oxygen disappeared for thirty seconds. Other women were involved in helping make sure humanity survived, including Hilde Unger, but these three were the most famous. Well, not everyone saw it this way. Councilwoman Hardt was a carryover from the old world, she always went against Smith’s decisions, and she didn’t let men push her around. Some didn’t appreciate that. Though the truth about Hogarth’s actions eventually came to light, she would always be associated with the Deathfall, and would always be blamed for it. It didn’t matter what good she did, people could only remember the bad, because that was what certain voices screamed about all the time. Jayde was in the same boat, because winning the war came at a great cost. Experts could try to explain that things would have been much worse for them had they lost that war, but again, it didn’t matter. In The Republic, none of this would matter, because reason didn’t matter, because truth didn’t matter, because women didn’t matter. Kovac, Hardt, and Pudeyonavic were later collectively called The Witches of Durus, and they were destined to be joined by a fourth historical figure. They didn’t know who this fourth woman would turn out to be, but they were told she would one day spell the downfall of the Republic—which was true. They used people’s fear of this in order to justify their decision to forge the Republic in the first place.

The Witches, along with other women, had done—or will do—so much to hurt the world that a small group of men decided they could no longer be trusted with authority, or responsibility. They had to be controlled—nay, managed. It wasn’t that they didn’t have the right to be safe, happy, and free, but they needed to be told what to do, and they weren’t allowed to tell anyone else what to do. Even a mother could not be left alone with a child, for she may instill them with values such as equality, social harmony, or good trouble. Like, literally. If the man needed to leave the house, the children had to go with him, or the mother did, but she could not supervise without being supervised herself at the same time. Some husbands didn’t let their wives out of earshot, even if they didn’t have children, but that kind of thing didn’t happen until later. For now, the new system was just beginning. It started as a vision amongst a very select few, but they whispered their warped ideas to anyone who got too close to them, like a viral load to an unmasked person less than two meters away. It would have stopped here, but the republicans, as they liked to be called, had something major on their side. They were in charge of Watershed, and its dam. They controlled the water, and the moderate amounts of electricity that Aljabara had, and that was enough to give them the influence they needed to pretty much just dictate whatever they wanted. Their ideas would evolve over time, just like it did for any governmental body, but the basic tenets were clear: women can’t be trusted, and...well, I guess that’s mostly it. Under the new laws, you could do anything you wanted, save killing, stealing, being antisocially dishonest, or having a vagina. This was the way things were in The Republic, and they didn’t change for over sixty-five years.

Microstory 1444: Aljabara

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Of course, there was only one town when Springfield fell through the Deathfall portal, and landed on Durus. Over time, people started spreading out, first to Splitsville, and then Parade, and all the way to the unfinished and unnamed sixteenth town. This was what made the Mage Protectorate prosper. People were able to diversify, and go visit each other across the lands, and learn about each other. A real civilization formed out of the chaos and struggle. After the war with the monsters, this dynamic became more difficult to hold onto. The towns were too far apart. Without any powers, and a severe lack of electricity, all repairs had to be completed by hand. Some towns didn’t even have the right technician for a given job, and it would sometimes take weeks before the right person had the time to make the trip. The time monsters were gone, but the world was not without its perils. One thing they did was keep the thicket from becoming overgrown, simply by trampling over it all the time. They also seemed to have another effect that no one could really explain. Where the seed portal once only ever brought useful or innocuous plants, it now brought them poisonous and thorny plants. It could have been completely unrelated to the monsters, but it didn’t matter, because they were here now, and they made life on this planet that much harder. By 2094, people were starting to realize how impractical it was to maintain the status quo. What would they be able to do about it, though? What they needed was someone with time powers.

While the source mages had a law against mages conceiving children, this was no longer enforceable, so people were doing whatever they wanted. They didn’t think it mattered anyway, because Jayde Kovac had stripped them of their powers. What they didn’t realize was that she never removed any abilities, but the energy it took to manifest them. This energy was always restored for new people (i.e. babies). Toddlers were now running around with powers of their own—albeit weaker than their predecessors—having been born with the energy needed to exhibit them. This gave some people hope for a better future, but it would be awhile before they found the right mage. They couldn’t wait that long, for they needed a solution now, before the human race on this world died out. One child looked to be the most promising. She could extract people from the timeline, and place them anywhere else. She could not change the past, so she would always have to put them back eventually—and sooner, rather than later, because of how taxing this was on her—but they figured this would help them realize their goals. It was difficult explaining to her what they needed, since she was so young, but they were eventually able to direct her to the right man, in the right moment. She plucked Baran Avan out of the timeline, and pulled him up to the future, so he could help them conserve resources. He used his mass teleportation abilities to transport every single still-standing building in every single still-standing town, all into one place. He stacked some on top of each other, so they almost looked like high rises, except not really at all. He might have spent more time curating a real city design, but the timeline extractor wasn’t strong enough for that. Once it was finished, the towns were mashed into one chaotic and moderately unstable city, which they later decided to call Aljabara. The end of the Interstitial Chaos, and the beginning of something much, much worse was near.