The Advancement of Mateo Matic: Saturday, July 21, 2136

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Nerakali opened up a two-way transition window, and held it open for an extended period of time, so Aeolia could go and find her partner, Kallias Bran. They made quick work of it, as he was waiting at their rendezvous location, just as he said he would be. He was relieved and grateful to find a group of people who were actually capable of remembering his past. As it turned out, Aeolia had maybe been a little less than forthcoming about their use of their power. They had actually used their ability to influence people from the shadows on many occasions, and were secretly responsible for a number of reality-defining moments in the timeline. She had been honest about their intentions however, in that they only ever controlled people benevolently. They were never greedy, nor megalomaniacal. There appeared to be no cure for their condition, which matched up with everything they had heard about the retgone coins, so they just felt like they needed to contribute positively to society, and this was the only way.

After jumping to July 21, 2136, Mateo and Leona learned about one time when Aeolia and Bran interfered in the timeline that was particularly relevant to them. On August 12, 2158, Mateo was ripped out of the timestream by The Superintendent, and simultaneously removed from the collective consciousness. Leona went on for the next six weeks of her life, having no idea that she ever had a husband. Once she learned he existed, she spent the next however long doing everything she could to get him back, even going so far as to travel to other universes. She found him, of course, and brought him back from the dead, so they could start living their lives together again. Mateo had missed a lot, however, and Leona logically assumed she would have to fill him in, just like any two people separated from each other for any length of time. This proved unnecessary, however, when Mateo found himself being flooded with Leona’s memories, as if they were his own.

They asked people who could manipulate memories whether they had anything to do with what happened to Mateo, including Nerakali, but no one had any clue what they were talking about. The mystery of the shared memories was something they never figured out, and the two of them eventually just let it go, and decided to be grateful for it. Now, though, Bran was able to vocalize the truth, and he revealed finally that he was the one responsible for the brain blending. “I trusted you, Leona,” Bran began. “You accepted me as part of your team, and I think we became friends. Obviously you didn’t remember any of that, but it happened, and I remember it distinctly. If anyone could help us figure out how to restore other people’s memories of me, I knew it would be you. And I knew you would want to. So I conscripted Nerakali Preston’s help, intending to use her abilities on you. I wanted to test it out first, though, since commanding Nerakali proved to be wildly more difficult than most people. All the Prestons are notably resistant to our influence. So I just told her to give Mateo your memories, the ones he would have had himself had he been around. It worked, as you can see, but that was it. Nerakali felt my presence, and locked me out because of it. We were never able to control her again.”

“Ever since that attempt,” Aeolia continued the story, “we’ve been running around the timeline, helping people in any way we could. We abandoned our hopes of returning to the fray, because if Nerakali couldn’t do it, no one could. Had we known about these Cassidy cuffs, we probably would have tried something again, but this is the first we’re hearing of it.”

Mateo placed his hand on Bran’s. “Thank you. I’m sorry you wasted your one chance to ask for Leona’s help on me. I’m grateful, though.”

Kallias shook his head. “It wouldn’t have mattered. Leona would have been able to remember her past interactions with me, maybe, but still wouldn’t have been able to see me in realtime. She probably wouldn’t have even remembered that she once couldn’t remember. Nerakali would have still driven us from her psyche, and nothing would have changed. At least we made your lives together a little easier. Or did it? We don’t really know.”

“It did,” Leona confirmed. “I thank you as well.”

They enjoyed some unawkward silence until their cuffs beeped, indicating that they had a mission to get to.

“It’s the middle of the ocean,” Jeremy pointed out, looking at the two-dimensional map.

“It’s under the ocean,” Sanaa corrected.

“All the way under,” Leona added. “It’s at the bottom of the Mariana Trench.”

“Can we even go that deep?” Angela asked. She gestured towards their mobile home in general. “Can this thing survive down there?”

“Computer?” Leona asked simply.

“Yes, I can,” the computer voice replied.

“Sorry to call you a thing,” Angela apologized.

“Don’t worry about it.”

“That sounds like Mirage,” Mateo noted.

“I already looked into it,” Leona said. “It’s the same voice, but isn’t actually Mirage. Every timeline ends up coming up with it, because of how it can sound innocently comforting, or sexy, just depending on your mood.”

“You can call me Imzadi.”

“Is that a reference?” Jeremy asked.

“It is.”

Without being asked, Imzadi teleported them to the bottom of the Mariana Trench, where they found themselves floating in the middle of an extensive underwater city. The Parallel natives saw everywhere as a place to live. Seemed too dangerous to Mateo. That was probably why they were here, because people in the main sequence would have constructed their own base down here, and something was destined to go wrong today.

“We don’t need to be here for another several hours,” Sanaa explained to the artificial intelligence.

“I thought you might like to visit,” Imzadi explained right back to her. “Forgive me for thinking you had any interest in Parallel culture.” She was a feisty one. Every AI had a different personality, which helped remind humans that they were real people too.

“Okay, okay, you’re right,” Sanaa said sincerely. “Is there a main entrance, or something?”

“We’re docking right now,” Imzadi said.

Once they were docked, they were directed to watch an orientation video, which laid out all of the exhibits and other attractions. Angela is the only other one who wanted to go see the ancient submarine exhibit, which was about the first vehicles they used to explore this part of the ocean. Or perhaps she didn’t want to see it at all, but didn’t want Mateo to have to go off alone. It was nice either way, because it would give them a chance to get to know each other. The museum was in a pretty remote section of the complex, though when accounting for teleportation, that didn’t mean a whole lot. What made it truly remote was that it was fairly boring, and there weren’t a whole lot of people there. They could tell how excited the other visitors were to see each other. It validated their passions, and reminded them that they weren’t alone.

After the two of them were finished going through, they were about to leave when Angela noticed a door that was blocked off with yellow tape.

“Not a big deal,” Mateo said. “They’re just doing construction.”

Angela approached the door, and wiped the knob with her finger. “It’s dusty.”

“Yeah, okay.”

“I’ve not been here long, but do you get the feeling that these Parallel people ever procrastinate their projects? I haven’t seen a single construction site anywhere. According to Leona, they can do just about anything in the span of a day.”

“Yeah, I guess I’ve not—what are you doing?”

“I have to see what’s on the other side. I’m curious.” She ducked under the tape, and walked through the door.

“Oh, God,” Mateo said in a breathy but nonjudgmental voice. The natives probably wouldn’t get mad at them about this, since they didn’t seem to ever get mad about anything, but that didn’t mean they should push their luck. Still, he had to admit he was kind of curious too. The tape blocking off the door alone looked very out of place in this reality.

Mateo followed her down the dark winding hallways for a bit until they started hearing noises up ahead, and felt compelled to walk in front of her instead. She was not offended about this. They kept walking towards the noises. They sounded more like computer cooling fans, and less like buzzsaws, but neither of them really knew what construction looked like in a world with this kind of technology. What was strange, however, was what they found when they finally made it to the room with all the computer servers. A giant insectoid was sitting at a terminal. It seemed to sense their presence, and turned around to see. It looked even buggier from this angle. Before they could introduce themselves to them, something struck Mateo in the back of the head.

He woke to a terrible headache, as one might expect, but his neck hurt a lot too. Angela was in the chair next to him, not yet awake. The bug man was standing in front of them, or not, it could have been some other bug man. It was probably difficult for a human to tell them apart.

“Why aren’t we just killing them?” the bug asked.

Another bug approached from the server stacks. “I have some questions. About these.” He was holding up Mateo and Angela’s Cassidy cuffs. They should have been coded to their respective DNA, but who knows what kind of hacking technology these creatures possessed?

“What do you wanna know?” Mateo asked.

“Where did they come from?”

“A friend built them for us.” He decided to be as polite as possible, and answer all their questions, but as vaguely as possible, to avoid these people from being able to exploit this knowledge. He still didn’t know what they wanted, or if they were friend of foe.

“For what purpose?”

“We use them for communication.” It wasn’t a lie, but it was not the whole story. If the bugs ever found out the truth, hopefully they wouldn’t use it against them since he wasn’t technically being dishonest.

“So others know where you are.”

“Yes,” Mateo confirmed. He actually didn’t know. It was possible to track someone wearing a cuff, but he couldn’t know whether anyone was doing that since he didn’t know how long the two of them had been down here, and whether anyone would be looking for them yet.

The bugs seemed to recognize that he wasn’t being entirely forthcoming, but it was hard to read their facial expressions, since Mateo wasn’t familiar with their species’ nuances. The one in charge nodded, though. Before he could ask any more questions, they all heard a pounding sound that was coming from over there. They waited a few seconds, only to hear another pounding, but they could also see the air ripple a little bit, as if being distorted by heat. Another pound, and the air rippled more. The space was being warped, presumably by something trying to get through some kind of portal that was—for whatever reason—not very easy to open.

“The Progenitor,” the subordinate bug said. “They’ve found us.”

“Hold your ground,” his superior ordered him.

More pounding, enough to wake up Angela. “What’s goin’ on?”

“These fine folk are worried about that portal,” Mateo explained to the best of his ability.

“You shut up!” the leader bug shouted. “He’s not coming to save you.”

“I wouldn’t expect him to,” Mateo said.

“Who are they talking about?”

More pounding, and faster now. The portal barrier was nearly broken.

“I dunno,” Mateo answered her.

After even faster poundings, the portal shattered open, releasing a wave of color, and letting a man crawl through, followed by a woman who was dressed up like a superhero. The subordinate was hyperventilating. He tried to run away, but the man chased after him. “Come here, you little snake doctor!” the man shouted. He tackled the bug, and started punching him in the face. Meanwhile, the superhero woman went after the leader bug. She used more finesse, and instead of striking her opponent, chose to use his own weight and momentum against himself. She kept knocking him to the floor, and letting him tire himself out. The man was a brawler, and she was an artist, but they would occasionally switch opponents without missing a beat, as if having rehearsed it. In the end, the leader bug was apparently dead, and the subordinate was bound in zip cuffs.

The man tried to leave back through the portal, but the woman started to help Mateo out of his own bindings. “Amaranti, we gotta go. I’m too tired to punch a new thinny.”

“We help them, that’s what we do,” she said to the man. “If you have to punch a new portal, then that’s what you’ll do, because it’s your job.”

The guy sucked his teeth, and looked away dismissively.

“Thank you,” Mateo said. As Amaranti was freeing Angela, he went over to retrieve their Cassidy cuffs. “Oh, no. Is that the date?”

“We don’t know what date it is,” Amaranti replied. “We’re not exactly from around here.”

“Yeah, you’re from another universe. I’m just sending the question into the aether, because I already know the answer.”

“Did we miss the jump?” Angela asked. “How is that possible? Wouldn’t you have just jumped without me?”

The bug alien snickered. “He was messing with you. He didn’t need to ask those questions. We know who you are, and what you do. We suppressed your powers.”

Mateo reached to the back of his neck, and felt a patch that was clearly attached to something that went deeper into his spine.

Amaranti sighed. “Come with us. We’ll get you to a doctor, and then deliver you back to wherever it is you belong.”

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Exemption Act: The Needs of the Many (Part I)

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Confusingly named Saga!Three was sitting at the top of the stairs, waiting for her new partner, Zektene to get out of the bathroom. Zektene was from another universe, and came here after a trip to the past changed enough about history to stop her from ever existing. That was no longer her world, so she made this her new home.

“I’ve been thinking about your name!” Zek called out through the door.

“You don’t have to yell!” Saga!Three shouted back.

“You’re yelling!”

“I’m just trying to match your energy!”

Zektene laughed.

“What about my name?”

“We need some way to distinguish you from your alternate self.”

Saga!Three was also a time traveler, and was created when a different version of her named Saga!Two went back to help kill Adolf Hitler early. To avoid ambiguity, others began to address them by the number that was arbitrarily assigned to their reality. There were an infinite number of past realities, however, and this was in no way only the third, but the name was good enough. “That’s what the number is for.”

“It’s too impersonal!” Zek argued. “Who was that one gal you mentioned, who met her alternate self? She goes by her real name, while the other goes by their nickname?”

“Holly Blue and Weaver, yes. The former just never started using the nickname. You wanna start calling me Doorwalker?”

“No, that’s dumb. That’s why I wanna talk about it, so we can figure something else out.”

“I’m all ears.”

Zek came out of the bathroom. “How about Freya?”

“You have already thought about this.”

“Just a little. During my research, I learned that your name, Saga is associated with a goddess named Frigg. I don’t know what it means to be associated with a different person, but I don’t much care for Frigg. I do, however, like Freya, which is somehow associated with Frigg. I don’t know what that means for its relationship with Saga, but I think it suits you either way.”

“Fine with me. Freya it is,” the newly reborn Freya affirmed.

“Now, is that Freyja with a j, or just a y-a?” asked some stranger in their hotel room.

“Whoa! I’m sorry, but who are you?”

The stranger looked confused. “I...I’m Nadia.”

Freya continued to look confused and disturbed with her eyes, and widened her mouth like a smile to offer this Nadia person more time to elaborate.

“You may have heard of The Historian...?”

“Oh. That’s you?” Freya asked. That’s Freya, with a y-a.

“Okay, I got it, Superintendent,” Nadia said with a roll of her eyes. Don’t you roll your eyes at me. “Oh, forgive me, Your Grace.” You are forgiven.

“Are you...speaking with The Superintendent right now?” Freya asked.

Nadia was writing in her book. “F-R-E-Y-A. What was that? Oh, yes, he’s being a di—uhhhhh...lightful supreme being. He’s being..great.”

“Why do you need her new name?” Zek asked, changing the subject back. “I mean, it’s cool you know, but for what specific purpose?”

“Um, she can’t just change her name, and expect everyone to start using it all of the sudden. When the Shapers go to a new time period, I have to manipulate reality to account for their new identities. When Lowell Benton changed Jeremy’s name from J.B., I had to update our records. Otherwise, he would have to start correcting people one-by-one, and that is so tedious. It’s much easier if I just send out a psychic blast. From now on, most of the people you run into who already knew you should now start using the new name. There may be a few glitches.”

“Well...” Freya began. “Thank you.”

“No problem,” Nadia replied. “I’m also here for another reason. This belongs to you.” She handed Zek a business card. There was no writing on it, but it was covered in colors.

“What is this?” Zek asked.

“Rendezvous card,” Nadia said cryptically. “It’s up to you to figure out how to use it. Be at that location, and someone you’re supposed to meet will arrive as well.”

“Sounds like you’re not going to tell us who it is,” Freya presumed.

“I don’t know who it is. I just found it as a bookmark on your title page, and I know what it does. I couldn’t tell you if it’s a mission, or someone you’ve been looking for, or what, but someone has decided to put you two together, so go on and find out.”

“Thank you again,” Zek echoed.

Nadia softened her smile, and raised her hands in front of her stomach, pinkies together, palms up. She ceremoniously closed them together, as if shutting an invisible book, which served to fold her own body into a two-dimensional object, and make her disappear.

“This is a distraction,” Freya told Zek.

“We don’t know that.”

“We’re supposed to be looking for something called The Transit. That’s what Vearden said. That’s going to help us end this once and for all.”

“Have faith in the process, Freya. Now, I think I know how to work this thing. Hold onto my shoulder.”

“Okay,” Freya conceded.

Zek activated the rendezvous card by flicking it out of her hand, which transported them to some unknown location in the middle of the forest. They were alone, but not for long. Pretty soon, several spots before them started warping with technicolors. People emerged from these warp spots, and each one of them dropped their own rendezvous card into a pile in the middle of the circle. The last one was not human, but a large and imposing creature with ashy white skin. Freya knew this to be a Maramon.

This Maramon was the only one who didn’t look at least a bit bewildered. She scanned the group. “Thank you all for coming. I know you have no clue why you’re here, but I appreciate it greatly, and so does your universe.”

“What are you?” one of the others asked.

“I am a Maramon, from a dwarf universe called Ansutah. Please, ask no further questions while I explain myself. I will be answering the most important ones without prompting. My name is Khuweka Kadrioza, and even though I’m from Ansutah, I’ve been living in bladapodoverse for the last several years. It’s only there that I encountered humans who accepted my form. The fun was not destined to last, unfortunately, as a great danger came upon us; an enemy that threatens the very survival of everyone in the multiverse.”

“The Ochivari,” Freya blurted out. “Oh, sorry.”

“That’s right,” Khuweka confirmed, unperturbed by the interruption. “Saga is already fully aware of them, because this enemy originates from her universe.”

“Her name is Freya now,” Zektene corrected.

Khuweka tilted her head in thought. “Huh, you’re right. Apologies, Freya. Anyway, the Ochivari are an odd bunch. They were born with a limited ability to travel the multiverse. At first, they used this to build their empire at home, siphoning large amounts of resources from uninhabited worlds with barely a thought. Eventually, however, a sort of religion formed. They wouldn’t use that word for it, but it’s the best way to describe it, because it’s twisted and pervasive, like a cancer. Not everyone believes in the same thing, but they all serve the interests of Worlon, their home planet. Their basic tenet is that all evolved life must be destroyed. They’re antinatalists, which is ironic, because they propagate their own species to insane numbers. Normally, this would be terrible, but people like you wouldn’t get involved, because this is not your universe. But remember what I said, they travel to other universes, which is why you are all in danger, as are your people.

“Now, we could fight a war. We could build giant ships, and attack them. We could conscript the various machines and people who travel the bulkverse, but why do that when we can end it before it starts? I propose we go back to before the Ochivari are seeded on Worlon, and destroy them before they have the chance to do anything.”

The others had been listening intently, careful not to make any assumptions, or dismiss Khuweka’s concerns. They also seemed a lot more comfortable being around her than Freya would have guessed. Perhaps, though they had clearly never seen her kind before, they were used to the concept of other. A well-dressed middle aged woman took a quarter step forward. “Have you considered the ethics of this undertaking? When accounting for time travel, what you’re talking about could still be considered genocide.”

“No, I’ve not considered it much,” Khuweka responded. “That is your job, Professor. I will say, however, that this serves the greater good.”

A disheveled man raised his hand.

“Yes, Limerick?”

“Do I still get to punch somebody?” He assessed the group. “I can’t believe I’m here for any other reason than I’m good at punching people.”

Khuweka sighed and massaged her forehead. “You remember you’re in another universe, right?”

“Yeah, you said that,” Limerick replied.

“I don’t have the ability to do that myself. I got all these people here, because of you. You brought them here, so that’s what you bring to the table. You’re a bulkverse traveler, just like the Ochivari.”

He squinted at her, like the two of them were just trying to figure out which actor was in a particular movie, and even though she was obviously right, he couldn’t help but not believe her. “I don’t remember that.”

“Yes, I know,” an exasperated Khuweka said. “That’s what happens when totally shitfaced is your resting state. I need you to sober up, and get with the program. It’s time to be a big boy, and do something productive for a change.”

Limerick mockingly straightened up, and bounced his head all hoity-toity like. “We’ll see.”

“Well,” Khuweka continued, “you all now know Limerick Hawthorne. He’s right, if someone does need punching during this mission, he’ll be able to help with that as well. You also met Freya Einarsson, who is here because she is familiar with this universe, and the progression of the timelines. Her friend, Zektene Cormanu is a teleporter from the Composite Universe, which will come in handy, no doubt. Doctor Andraste Spellmeyer will act as our resident ethicist, because as she pointed out, what we’re doing here isn’t exactly the Middle Way. She is from Universe Prime, and she has never met an alien, or a time traveler, or anything before. Round of applause for how graceful and patient she’s being with us.”

They clap.

“Moving on, Carbrey Genovese is our engineer. He’s from Flipverse, and he’s going to build us a spaceship, and pilot it. Don’t worry, I’ll get you the specs for the reframe engine.”

“I don’t know what that is,” Carbrey said.

“Essentially faster-than-light travel, Freya filled him in.

“Oh, okay. Well, no promises, I’ve never built a spaceship before.”

“Wait,” Limerick jumped in. “You said he’s from Flipverse, and other people are from other places. Where am I from? What would you call it?”

“Most universes don’t get their own names,” Khuweka tried to explain delicately. “Yours is one of the many. You can call it Limerickverse, if you want.”

“I want.”

“If there are no further interruptions, I can introduce our last crew member.” Khuweka looked over at the humbly quiet man who had actually separated himself from the group by nearly a meter. “Do you want to step back into the circle?”

The man hesitated, but approached. “Hi, my name is Landis Tipton, and I’m from a universe called Voldisilaverse. I am a kenvoldisil, which means I was not born voldisil, but turned into one later when a group of them died, and transferred their abilities unto me.” He took a step back, apparently believing that was enough of an explanation.

Khuweka was trying to be patient with him. “Do you wanna tell us what abilities you have?”

Not really, but Landis didn’t care much for confrontation. “I can see your regrets, smell your health, hear your desires, feel your pain, and taste your lies.”

Limerick suddenly turned into a decent and put-together human being. “Right on, man.”

Khuweka smiled at Landis. “He can also reverse his abilities, using them primarily to cure people by breathing on them. He saved millions of lives one by one, and billions once they figured out how to replicate his healing ability.”

“I once knew people who could cure others by breathing on them,” Zektene said.

“Yes, by using organic nanotechnology. This is different. Voldisilaverse is unlike any I’ve ever heard of. My people are ruthless and unfeeling. They’ve never met a human they didn’t want to kill, except for the few they revere as gods. But when they discovered Landis’ version of Earth, something turned them away; not out of fear, but...respect, and maybe even empathy? Something made them not want to hurt his people.”

“We’re not all good,” Landis revealed, then slunk back away, immediately regretting having volunteered to speak.

“Well, at least two of you are,” Khuweka acknowledged. “Another voldisil is the one who contacted me. She can see things that are happening in other universes, and it was she who told me who belongs on this team. Now it’s up to all of us to prove her right.”

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Microstory 1530: Cloze Tests Test

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This is going to be one of the most ________tal microfiction experiments I have ever done. They will all be cloze tests. What is a cloze ________? Well, you might have heard of Mad Libs before, and this is a similar situ____. For the former, a ________ is tasked with tasking their ________ with supplementing the missing words from a paragraph in a ________. Underneath each blank is a part of sp____ch, which prompts them to choose a word without having any context to the paragraph’s ultimate meaning. The ________ of the game is to come up with the craziest and ____iest story in the end. A cloze test, on the other ________, is not generally meant to be ________. You’ve probably done them in school, where you’ve ________ a film, or read a ________, and the teacher asks you to prove your comprehension without having to ________ an entire summary from scratch. My cloze “________” will be short fictional ____ies, with no particular theme, and no ________ way to connect them all together. The words I omit will be ____ly selected. If writing this ________ is any indication, then I will be ________ the blanks as I go along, rather than ________ the whole story, and cutting ________ out afterwards. I may do it differently to see how that ________. As you’ve seen, I occasion____ put part of the word, and have you ________ in a blank before or after it, with only a morpheme or two. I may even make it even wilder, and put blanks in very _nusu_l places, with single character blanks. Pay no attention to the length of the blank ________. It is of no indication ________ long the word you fill in should be, and will probably only ev____ be shortened when only part of a word is missing. I don’t want to tailor the length to any given ________ I have in mind, because I still ________ you to be able to come up with whatever narrative you feel makes the most sense—or the least sense, as it were. This might be one of the ____best things I’ve ever tried, and it might make me ________ like a ________in’ ________, but as I’ve ________ before, the point of this website is to experiment with nontraditional forms of wri__ing. That last blank was meant to be writhing, by the way. Hopefully this makes for an interesting read, and isn’t so distracting or vague that it means nothing. There’s little I can do to test it out myself, since I always do have a word in mind, and will always read it using those. If you don’t like it, then ____tive criticism is fine, but don’t go around calling me a ________ ________ ________ ________, or a ________ ________ ________ who can’t even ________ when ________ is on ________, you piece ________ ________, standing there with ________ and ________ ________ ________ shoelaces around your ________. Okay, maybe some of these will be a little funny.

Microstory 1529: Conclusion to Poems

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I wanted to take a moment to reflect on these last several weeks

I wrote my poetry a little different than most

Sometimes it landed

Sometimes not

Do I regret it?

No, I wouldn’t say that

I think it just reinforced my beliefs

I am not a poet, and I never will be, even if I were to try harder

Do not mistake my resignation as some kind of depressive realization

I’m fine with what kind of writer I am

And what kind I’m not

I like prose

I always have

I prefer the video formats

But until I catch my big Hollywood break

I’m going to stick with my website, and keep trying to tell good stories

This does not mean that I will no longer be doing experimental formats

I will keep challenging myself, and my audience

In whatever way that goes

However small

Or unimpressive

I will keep making content

Not simply for the sake of putting my stuff out there

Because writing is the only thing I truly know how to do, and I can’t stop

Microstory 1528: They Call Me

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My friends call me Limerick

And do you want to know why?

It’s because that’s my name

My parents are both poets

Or rather, that’s what they call themselves

They call me The Bard

My father manufactures paper clips

And my mother clips paper, up in the paper clip factory office

And what am I?

What did I become?

Nothing, really, if you can believe it

I don’t care much about anything but drinking

And sleeping

And fighting

Why, if I could do all three of those at once

I would be in heaven

They call me the Fighting Irishman

Because I’m always getting into fights

And they assume I’m Irish

But that would be stupid, wouldn’t it?

You wouldn’t name someone after the place they live?

I guess that’s not that stupid

It’s more just not true about me

My therapist has asked me to write down my feelings

My feelings about my family

About my habits

And to do it in a poem

He calls me The Problem Patient

But he doesn’t know I know that

I tried to make this rhyme, but I can’t do it

So now I’m just telling you my story

Broken into short lines

Is that how poetry works?

I wouldn’t know, I don’t care for it

All I care about is all I have

And I’ve no intention of changing my behavior

They can arrest me all they want, but I won’t stop

This is who I am, and I’m happy with it

And if you try to lock me up, I will punch myself free

Because that’s what I do

They call me The Pugilist

Microstory 1527: Fighting Against an Enemy I Have Always Known

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I grew up oppressed

Amongst an oppressed people

In a world of desolation

What I have learned is that we are rare

Most worlds touched by the enemy are destroyed

We were spared, but not for the better

The others, they feel no more pain

Their lives are over, but they do not know that

Many did not even know it was going to end

They blinked, and it was done

They were done

I’m not saying they’re the lucky ones

I can still fight

There is still a chance to save my world

To make it a better place

For me, my family, and my descendants

But it is hard

We are not in a war

It is a rebellion

And rebellions are slow, and unpopular

Like climbing a wall with no summit

A war is easy

There’s one group on one side

Another on the other

Maybe there are more belligerents

But it is still simple

Sides fight against sides, and the winner is clear

In a rebellion, there are no sides

There are just people who oppress

And people who are oppressed

And in that second group, you have me

I am the resistant oppressed

I fight against the status quo

I fight for those who can’t

I live with them, but I am not them

They do not wish for me to lose

But they wish for me not to try

The oppression is bad, but it is stable

We slave for our enemy, but we survive

It could always be worse, and the rebellion risks that

The rebellion worries the oppressed

For if things are this bad without the resistance

How bad will they get if the enemy finds out about me?

What will they do to me once they know?

More importantly, what will they do to the other oppressed?

Am I saving them by rebelling?

Or am I just putting them in more danger?

Am I really fighting an enemy?

Or have I already lost?

Microstory 1526: Ode to Big Papa

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Oh, Big Papa, you are the largest artificial structure

In the galaxy

Perhaps even the whole universe

You make the sun look like lightbulb

You make mountains look like grains of sand

You make me invisible

You were built for no purpose

But to be the largest

Quadrillions upon quadrillions of people

They could all live in your network

With room to spare

But they don’t

They don’t even exist

So why were you made?

I say that it doesn’t matter

You are large and imposing

You are beautiful and incredible

No one could match your awesome power

Your weapons are extraneous

The gravitational pull alone is enough

Enough to destroy any would-be attacker

If it is power you seek

You shall find it

If it is grace, it will be given to you

If you simply want to be seen

Know that we see you

We trust in your greatness

And weep, in awe of your potential

Oh, Big Papa, hear me

You can do or have whatever you want

Just command me

Command me, Big Papa

And we will demonstrate your wrath to the cosmos

The Advancement of Mateo Matic: Wednesday, July 20, 2135

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The other eight Cassidy cuffs were waiting for Mateo and Leona when they returned to the timeline on July 20, 2135. They were on Earth, having taken up residence in what The Parallel natives referred to as a mobile home. They didn’t have the normal kind of mobile homes from the main sequence. Poverty did not exist in this reality, but efficient living did. Their mobile home was small, but highly advanced, and equipped with everything they needed to live happily and comfortably. It was a cylinder about five meters wide, and seven meters tall, which was just small enough to fit inside a standard Nexus. Unlike the Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez, the mobile home had eight beds, but they were each smaller, and they were up against the circular wall, so it was impractical and uncomfortable for Mateo and Leona to share. Still, they were grateful to the natives for giving it to them, and it was more than they expected.

Like last year, there was a message waiting for them on their Cassidy cuffs. It was a hologram of Nerakali. “Surprisingly, I was given the opportunity to meet with the version of Jupiter Fury who picked you for his mission. He didn’t die so much as he retired. Apparently, he has other things to do with his life, and he’s pleased with his replacement. He’s talking about me. Someone is actually happy that I’m involved. Who would have thought I would end up like this? A seer I encountered once, that’s who. I didn’t believe her at the time. Anyway, I’ve been curating the list of transitionees, using what he had in there before, adding who I felt was necessary, and accounting for changes to the main sequence timeline. I left you the extra cuffs in case you ever need them. If anyone needs to make a time jump with you, they won’t be able to do it with the AOC. It’s on its way, but it won’t be here for another couple decades. The reason Jupiter always had each member of the team wear two cuffs was because that allowed them to be locked. You couldn’t take them off, or control all of their functions. That’s no longer necessary, so use the extras at your leisure.

“The next transition window will be happening today, but there’s no specific time for it. Just get to the ingress point whenever you feel like it, and greet them. You will be pleased with who I’ve chosen, I’m sure of it. You can give all of them cuffs, or part of them, or just one of them, or even none. I’ll let you decide that amongst yourselves. This new team can be as permanent or as ephemeral as you would like. If you later choose to disband the team altogether, that’s okay. No one’s forcing you to do this anymore. If you do select others for the team, you’ll be able to share time powers, but like I was saying, you can remove the cuffs whenever you want without permission, or a special tool. All right, that’s all I got for ya. Be careful.”

“Who do you think she has in mind for the new team?” Leona asked.

“I think it will be less new than she made it sound.”

“You think we’re getting our dead friends back? That seemed like an insurmountable obstacle. Jupiter was the one who took over that mission, and it’s probably the reason why he retired.” She used airquotes. “Something happened that we don’t know about. I can’t imagine it turned out well.”

“Let’s just go see. There’s no time limit, but I’m too excited to wait.”

Leona linked one of the cuffs with the mobile home, and let the teleporter spirit them away to the location of the next transition window, at a lovely waterfall. The cuffs beeped upon their arrival, and opened the window. Mateo turned out to have been right. Jeremy, Sanaa, and Angela spilled out of it, along with another young woman they didn’t know. After some hugs and tearful greetings, they explained how they had gotten out of Tamerlane Pryce’s afterlife simulation. Evidently, Jupiter’s rescue team never truly succeeded in their mission. Pryce was too powerful, and too well-protected. They did, however, manage to give him so big of a headache that he finally just gave in, and released all their friends. They were resurrected at the end of last year, and while some parted ways, the three of them had been waiting here for Leona and Mateo’s return. The whole time during the story, Mateo assumed this other woman was another dead person who just got caught up in all this. When he asked for an introduction, they balked.

“Who are you talking about?” Jeremy asked.

“This woman right here,” Mateo said, pointing to the stranger.

“Oh, they can’t see me,” the stranger explained.

“You’re invisible?” Mateo questioned.

“Who’s invisible?” Sanaa asked

“Actually, she’s a telepath,” the stranger said. “She can kind of communicate with me, as long as someone else helps her through it.”

“What is going on?” Mateo pressed.

“Honey, we don’t know what’s happening,” Leona tried to comfort him. “Are you seeing things?”

“Just separate yourself from the group, so we can talk,” the woman began. “It’ll make it a lot easier.”

“Yes, I’m seeing things. I have to be alone for a minute.” He walked off with the woman, but kept his eye on the people behind him. They watched him go for a moment, and then went back to their conversation, apparently no longer concerned that Mateo was going crazy.

She sighed. “My name is Aeolia Sarai. I suffer from a time condition. I’m not invisible. It’s just that time makes people forget about me so quickly that they don’t even remember they’re looking at me right now.”

Mateo looked to the ground as the recalled something from the past. “Retgone coins.”

“That’s right!” Aeolia exclaimed. “The retgone coins and I were created at the same time. I was taking them to the bank when a portal opened up, and made all this happen. It was just a freak accident.”

“Why can I remember you, and no one else does.”

She shook her head. “I’ve only met two other people who could fully remember me. One of them was already exactly like me, and the other quickly became like me too. But he could see me before that, because his time power is that he remembers things others don’t.”

“Oh,” Mateo said. He looked down at his Cassidy cuff. “My friend, Nerakali. She can also manipulate memories. I’m channeling her power right now. My wife can do that too, but it probably doesn’t occur to her as easily.”

“So this Nerakali would be able to see me?” Aeolia asked.

“I imagine, yeah. Tertius Valerius should as well.”

“Wow. Four new people, just like that. You have no idea what it’s like, only having Kallias to speak to.”

“Oh, Kallias Bran?” Now it made sense. Multiple times now, Mateo had brought up Kallias Bran, and no one seemed to know who that was, even when they should. The coin erased his past and future. “Yeah, he had that memory thing, I remember that.”

“Oh, this is so exciting. Can I meet your friends? I mean the other memory people?”

Mateo considered it for a moment. “That shouldn’t be necessary. I don’t know where Tertius is, I’ve never actually met him. But Nerakali is wearing the primary cuff, which means anyone else wearing a cuff can share her power, including those people you came through the transition window with. We have extras, and if they agree to join our team, you should be able to talk to them. Hell, we may not even need Nerakali if you yourself wears one of the cuffs.”

“Could we try that?” Aeolia looked like a newborn baby, who could already speak English, but had no other life experiences yet.

Mateo reached into his back pocket, where he happened to be storing one of the cuffs. He pulled it out triumphantly. “Boom!”

She smiled, and presented him with her wrist. He carefully placed it on her, and looked over to the rest of their friends. Leona was chatting inaudibly when she suddenly perked up, and looked over to Mateo and Aeolia.

She hustled over there. “I remember you. Why are we the only ones?”

Aeolia started to go over her story again when Mateo stopped her. “You’re just going to have to say it all again. Let’s get a cuff on everybody, and then you only have to do this once.”

“They may not want the cuffs,” Leona warned him. This was true. The group was all back together. It wasn’t the team they started with, but everyone here belonged. Mateo and Leona did not yet know, however, whether the others would want to continue Jupiter’s mission. They had a choice now where they didn’t before.

“Then they’ll be able to take them off later. Let us make introductions, and then we’ll give them the option to stick around.”

Leona ran off to retrieve the rest of the cuffs from the mobile home while Mateo escorted Aeolia back to the group.

“You’re having some kind of psychic conversation with someone,” Sanaa accused him. “I can feel it, but I can’t hear it.”

“You will, as soon as you rejoin the circle of trust.” Mateo stuck his fist into the center of the circle, like a sportsball player waiting to recite a huddle chant with his teammates.

“I don’t know that I want that,” Sanaa said, actually a little frightened of being judged for her decision.

“No one will force you to stay,” he assured her. “Put it on now, and you’ll see who I’m in communication with. If you don’t want to make the time jumps with us, you won’t have to. It’s not like it was before.”

When Leona came back, they each grabbed a cuff from the bin, and put them on their wrists. Even Angela didn’t hesitate, even though she had never been part of this before.

“Oh, weird,” Jeremy mused. “I can feel myself getting my memory back.”

“It usually hurts,” Sanaa’s alter ego, Debbie Downer complained. Apparently she had had her brain blended at some point.

Now Aeolia was able to explain where she had come from, and how she had lost her memories, giving more detailed information this time than she had with Mateo. She was actually from an alternate version of the Parallel, one which was not all that different than the main sequence. She met Bran and his friends, and though he was the only one who could remember her, there was a bit of a very dangerous loophole. She could control people. All she had to do was tell them to do something, and they would, without having any clue as to why. It was like the angel or devil on someone’s shoulder, whispering commands to them. Aeolia admitted to using it once or twice, but only ever to help people.

“Where’s Bran now?” Leona asked her.

“He stayed in the main sequence,” Aeolia explained. “We flipped a coin—a regular coin—and he lost, so I risked my life tagging along with you guys while he stayed behind, so we wouldn’t both be killed.”

“Well, no one’s getting killed,” Jeremy promised her. “We just need to discuss how we’re going to proceed. I, for one, am excited to get back to my life. I missed being on the mission while I was dead. Aeolia, I welcome you to stay with us, and invite your friend to come too, if there’s any way to get him here.”

“I can send a message to Nerakali,” Leona told him. She looked to Aeolia. “It’s up to you. I suppose you could stick with us just to have someone to hang out with, but you’re not obligated to help with the work.”

“No, I’ll help—we’ll help. We’ve been looking for purpose. We’ve helped out a few times here and there, but this will be a nice change of pace.”

“Sanaa?” Mateo prompted.

She took her sweet-ass time responding. “Ugh, Fine! If you really need me, how can I rightfully withhold my splendor from you?”

“It really is your choice,” Leona promised. “We won’t judge if you wanna leave.”

“Eh, my grandmother is still working as The Caster in this time period. I don’t want to interfere with her reign. And I don’t really care for this reality, so I might as well just do this.”

Now they all looked at Angela. “I don’t have anywhere else to go. I was dead for a hell of a lot longer than I was alive. I’ll stick around as well...for now. You did break me out of prison.”

“That came with no conditions,” Leona said.

Jeremy nodded in agreeance.

“I know,” Angela said. “I want to stay.”

“Cool, then it’s decided,” Mateo said. He checked his cuff. “We don’t have any more assignments today, so let’s get everybody settled into our new home. It’s not a spaceship, but it can survive in the vacuum. It can also teleport, and even drive on a road, if need be.”

“Great.” Sanaa took off towards the mobile home. “It better be able to play RPS-101 Plus.”

Mateo and Leona gave each other a knowing look. “Oh. It can.”

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