The Advancement of Mateo Matic: October 7, 2398

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Derina Torres accepted the position, though she took it under false pretenses. She believes that she will be working for Angela, and has no idea that Angela has plans to leave. It’s not going to be an immediate transition. Their best estimate for being able to escape this reality is still months away. That gives them plenty of time to make sure that Derina knows what she’s doing, and feels comfortable taking on more responsibility. She won’t be alone, which is what they’re working on today.

It was very important to Angela that the half of her replacement who will be in charge of the business side of things would be a woman. This was a woman-led company from the beginning, and she doesn’t really want to change that, especially not after all the misogynistic bullshit that she and Marie had to go through at their last company. Leona convinced Winona to convince whoever needed convincing to grant her temporary access to the United States Database of Working Individuals, or USDOWI, for short. No matter which world, in which reality, in which universe you go to, the government loves acronyms. Sorting the table of employed people was more complicated than it sounded when Leona first brought it up, but it still only took a day to create her top ten most wanted, and then pare it down to the best candidate. On paper, the best candidate is a man, but Angela is willing to sacrifice perfection for best fit.

Syntyche Söderberg, Soldier of Sustainability is not named for the reason you may think. Sustainability, in this case, does not refer to her feelings on environmental, or even social, responsibility. What she’s known for is dropping into startups and struggling businesses, and fixing whatever is wrong or lacking in them so well that their success lasts indefinitely beyond her departure. Her main competitors boast the same accomplishments, but the persistence of that success is dubious for most, and non-existence for a few. She knows what a company needs to thrive in the marketplace now, and in the future, and she does not accept the job if she thinks that it can’t be done. She stays on an assignment for as long as it takes, which may mean a week of observation and consultation, or a year of running the organization from the top down. If she can’t teach Derina to lead independently, she’ll find her own permanent successor.

Syntyche isn’t famous for her high ethics, but she’s not evil, and she does not allow the abuse of power, or the mistreatment of employees or consumers. Her focus is on profit and growth, which often leads to utilizing cheap materials, and overcharging for finished products, but according to anecdotal reports, she will forgo these objectives in order to conform to the principles of her clients. Well, at least she’ll meet them halfway. Let’s not go crazy here, she has a 92% success rate that she has to maintain.

They’re lucky to have caught her near the end of her current project. If she agrees to the contract, she will be able to begin in two weeks. She had her lawyer look over the paperwork yesterday, and is now sitting across from Angela, Alyssa, and Derina, silently crossing eyes and dotting teas. She takes off her reading glasses. “Where are you going?”

“I’m not going anywhere. I’m just contracting you to help us grow.”

Syntyche chuckles, and looks back at the contract. “This binds me to seven months, with an extension to a full year, if necessary.”

“Right,” Angela confirms.

“Extend the extension to two years, and you have a deal.” She holds out her hand.

The Advancement of Mateo Matic: October 6, 2398

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Carlin and Moray haven’t slept in about a day. They can’t stop working on this project. They have learned so much already, it’s a wonder that no one has noticed this before. Or maybe they have noticed, and somebody disappears them. Mateo and Leona are the ones who gave them this assignment. They should be here to hear the big news.

Vearden hangs up the phone. “Okay, Mateo can’t come, and Leona can’t get away from her work in Arcadia.”

“What? How is that possible?” Carlin questions. He takes another drink of his energy drink. Someone needs to ban this stuff.

“Can’t he just teleport here?” Moray asks.

“Apparently his ability isn’t working,” Vearden informs them.

“He was just here literally yesterday.” Carlin stares into space. “It was yesterday, right? I didn’t lose time, did I?”

“No, you didn’t,” Vearden assures him. “He went back to Kansas City, and now he’s stuck. We can’t rely on that trick anymore. They don’t really know how it works. He may be able to come tomorrow, but no one can guarantee anything.”

“Then he can take the Olimpia,” Carlin suggests. “It’s not that far to fly.”

“We’re trying to be discreet here,” Vearden explains. “Our people can’t be spotted flying back and forth from a country that only a few people are allowed to visit each day.” He frowns at the two of them. “Maybe you could tell me first?”

Carlin starts to pace. Moray paces alongside him. He wants to be just like his older brother when he grows up. Carlin shakes his head. He has to get this out. He has to tell someone, and Vearden will have to do. It’s too big. “Okay.” He opens the map.

“What am I lookin’ at here?” Vearden asks invitingly.

Moray reaches over to tap on the screen of the large tablet to activate the presentation. Points bubble up in various regions around the world. Transparent colors spread from these points, and swirl around, crisscrossing each other, and mixing, dancing around the screen in an oddly organized fashion. New points and colors spring up. A slider at the bottom shows the passage of time.

Vearden tilts his head near the end. “I assume that this is showing how religions have propagated across the globe?”

“Yes. Did you see it?”

“I watched it, yes.”

Carlin rolls his eyes. “No. I’m talking about that spot right there.”

“Hmm. Yeah, there appears to be no religion there, but it’s not the only one. See there’s another one in the Philippines. And another over here, and another.”

“Those are unpopulated areas. This is a big area in the middle of Kansas. People live there, so why do they all report no religion, and why have they done that for centuries after the area was settled? I looked into it.” Carlin zooms in more. “The other cities seem normal, but there’s something weird about this bit of land exactly in the middle of it. Roads don’t go through. Satellite images don’t render. It’s weird as hell.”

“Weird as hell,” Moray echoes.

Vearden peers at the screen. “Hold on. I know this area. This is where Springfield, Kansas should be.”

The Advancement of Mateo Matic: October 5, 2398

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Heath is getting better. He’s learning his skills quickly. The clinical neuropsychologist, Doctor Nuadu Merrick is very optimistic regarding his recovery, and expects him to be a fully functioning, independent human being within at least a couple of years, much to his surprise. Heath has the benefit, of course, of not suffering from any actual brain injury, which is what has happened to most of Dr. Merrrick’s patients. Heath—or rather, this version of him—just has a brand new brain, which needs to learn everything that a normal person would know. They’re starting with the basics, like how to walk and talk, before tackling more advanced tasks, like how to eat food with a fork.

Marie was overjoyed when the first assessment came following a few therapy sessions. She could see it for herself too, he is well on his way to no longer needing any help anymore. When she thought about what that day might look like, though, she started to realize the truth. Now she understands that any happiness she feels for the patient’s progress can really only be felt in a general sense. Her love for people, and the desire for their success, is what’s going to keep her going, as long as it’s strong enough. There are other forces at play here. The relief she felt upon hearing the news has subsided. She now feels herself falling into a depression. It’s as close to a literal pit in the earth as possible while remaining metaphorical. Her heart feels low. No matter what they do, that’s not Heath. He’s a completely different person, and he always will be.

“There is another option,” Mateo says somberly.

“What would that be?”

“Keep in mind that this is only a possibility. I can’t guarantee anything, and if it doesn’t work, we may not be able to undo the attempt, and go back to just helping the individual we have here learn how to move around the world.”

“Spit it out, Mateo,” Marie demands.

“If we ever get back to the main sequence, and we bring him with us, we could blend his brain with the real Heath from the past.”

“That’s it,” Marie says. She paces away from him like a soap opera character, and looks for figurative holes in Mateo’s suggestion in the imperfections on the wall. There’s one big one. “Except what are we going to do with him until the day comes when we can escape the Third Rail?”

“I don’t know, but that’s not our biggest problem.”

“What is?” she questions.

“The Third Rail is special. Nerakali can blend brains from any timeline, but I’m not sure what that means for parallel realities. I don’t know if her power would treat them the same, or what. She may not have any access to Heath’s original mind, especially not if this world’s power dampening-power makes it impossible to do anything like that anyway.”

“She’s not the only one with such a power,” Marie points out.

“They all originate from her, including when Leona and I shared the ability.”

Marie paces some more. “So either we help Heath Two-Point-Oh learn how to live, or we stick him in a box on the off-chance that we can recycle his body later.”

“Correct.”

Marie sighs. “We obviously can’t do that. It’s incredibly ethically suspect.”

The Advancement of Mateo Matic: October 4, 2398

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It’s impossible to estimate how long Mateo has until he can no longer teleport, or how many times he can do it, or even how far he can travel altogether. Ramses ran every test he could come up with multiple times, and couldn’t come to a solid conclusion. Mateo is not losing the ability little by little. It’s fluctuating unpredictably, and will likely only become more unreliable with time. He may start to have trouble aiming at his destination, or lose a lot of time in a given attempt. Where he is when he’s not at Point A or Point B is unclear, but the answer could be incredibly dangerous, whether he knows what it is, or not.

“What about the timonite that’s stuck to my hands? Is that dripping off, or what?”

“I don’t know,” Ramses admits. “I don’t know enough to figure out how to detect it. I’ve scanned your hands, and it can’t tell whether there’s any timonite there at all. It can’t even detect the weird telekinetic outer layer that the god dude gave you.”

“I guess I’m more worried that I’m going to lose that, and go back to midasing everything I touch, dispatching it to an innocent, unsuspecting universe.”

“The guy who gave that to you was wildly powerful, based on Leona’s descriptions, and what I’ve witnessed for myself. I doubt that it has a time limit, and if it does, it’s surely based on the integrity of the timonite that it’s there to contain.”

“I sure hope you’re right,” Mateo says.

“I’m sorry that I can’t do anything about the other thing.”

That’s okay. Having that power back felt nice, but it’s not like he was used to it. He spent most of his life without the ability to teleport, or do anything like that. He was born to be a salmon—he’s not supposed to make his own choices—so anytime he has is gravy. “Don’t sweat it. We’ll get out of this reality, and go back to the way things were.”

“You’re mighty confident these days,” Ramses notes.

“I’m trying not to be so stressed out and worried. Everyone else is having a really hard time right now, and the best thing I can do is stay calm, and help where I can.”

“That’s a very mature thing for you to say.”

“Well, I am hundreds of years old, or thousands, or just a regular adult, depending on how you’re measuring time,” Mateo muses.

“I measure it with this.” He takes a wand from his cabinet, and waves it around.

“What is that?”

“It’s a temporal...a temponeural, umm...”

Mateo laughs “What? What are you trying to say, guy?”

“I’m not sure what to call it yet. A neurotemporal something something detector.”

“What exactly does it do?”

Ramses hovers it over Mateo’s forehead. It makes a noise. Once it’s finished, he inspects the readout. “Hmm. It says that your consciousness is a few seconds old.”

“So it needs work.”

“Yes.”

Mateo thinks that he might possibly have a halfway decent idea, which he hopes won’t sound stupid. “Could you scale that up?”

“How big?” Ramses asks.

“Big enough to scan the whole world?”

The Advancement of Mateo Matic: October 3, 2398

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Ramses removes the brain scanning bonnet from Mateo’s head. He places it on the table, and starts looking over the data. Everything looks good. No full consciousness has been uploaded, just the basics. The entity is capable of making decisions, and moving muscles. Or at least it would be, if it were attached to any muscles. For now it’s just a blob of digital synapses, waiting to fire. “All right, the upload went great.”

“Better than Leona’s?”

Ramses smirks. “Virtually indistinguishable. You two may as well share a brain.”

“Did you delete hers from the system?”

“She might ask to see it later. It’s best to just keep both programs around, maybe even after we use them.”

“When do we test it? How do we test it?”

Ramses is uncomfortable. “We test it on Rothko.”

“So you upload my partial mind into Alt!Mateo’s brain, which is currently being occupied by Rothko Ladhiffe. Then someone tries to kill him, at which point fate will intervene, and take him back to the place where that body is supposed to die in another reality. Meanwhile, the extraction mirror will be waiting to bring him back to this reality, but my mind will override any survival instinct that Rothko has, forcing him to stay where he is, so that an old version of Horace Reaver can murder him in a New Jersey Hospital.”

“Well, when you put it like that, it sounds absolutely bonkers.”

“It is bonkers. It’s just...also necessary.”

“I wouldn’t put it that way. Rothko is a person. We will be murdering him.”

“Reaver will be doing the murdering,” Mateo rationalizes.

“That is a pretty weak justification, Matt. If this were made public, we would be arrested for conspiracy and-or reckless endangerment, or something like that. Alt!Mateo was destined to die, not Rothko.”

“Someone in that hospital is supposedly wearing the hundemarke—”

“That’s not why his death can’t be changed,” Ramses claims.

“What? What else is there?”

“His murder is inevitable because it precipitates the creation of the next timeline, and the one after. It’s a major turning point in reality, as is Leona Reaver’s accidental death. They have to happen, or none of us comes into existence, not even you.”

“You’re telling me that if we don’t kill these two people’s bodies, whoever is using them at the time, we will all just blink out of existence.”

“It’s possible, yeah. I mean, it’s hard to be sure what the consequences would be.”

Mateo considers this. “Maybe that’s why someone created the extraction mirror loop. They’re trying to disrupt the continuum in some way, be it for good or bad, like what Erlendr and Jupiter were trying to do when the Parallel was created.” Fair guess.

“Yeah, that could be the case. Either way, this is why extraction mirrors are so dangerous. It’s best to never use them. Given that, how would you say we proceed?”

“Let’s hold off on the testing for now,” Mateo recommends. “I’m not convinced that it’s the right call anymore. Why don’t we run more tests on my hands? I’m fine with losing my teleportation ability, but I need to know when, and what my limits are.”

The Advancement of Mateo Matic: October 2, 2398

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Angela’s company was a great idea, but she was a fool to think that it could last. This reality is not her home, and she doesn’t want to stay here any longer than she has to. This doesn’t mean that she doesn’t care about what happens to it. There’s some decent people here, and if she can help lift those voices, she will feel more comfortable walking away when the time comes. It’s unclear when that might happen, if ever, so she has come up with a continuity plan. She will keep working as long as she’s around to do so, but she’s also going to have a line of succession, and one that does not rely on friends which might follow her through the dimensional exit. She was already looking to expand the team, so she had a short list of candidates, but one in particular has been on her mind, so this morning, she set up a same-day interview for the afternoon.

Her name is Derina Torres. She’s young and active on social media, advocating for more government community support programs, and less reliance on individual religions to help the impoverished and disenfranchised. She actually built her own platform, which is impossible to control with a dogma filter or region block, allowing oppressed peoples to vocalize their needs, and reach out for help. She would be perfect for the job, if she were willing to take it. She was apprehensive of Angela and her intentions during the interview, and clearly has trust issues, which is understandable. Even so, her responses were respectful, considerate, and open-minded. Some of the questions were a little unorthodox, but she never flinched, and she’s clearly as passionate about social change as her persona appears. Her answers reminded Angela of herself in her younger days, in the time before she died, but after she met Ed Bolton. She has great potential, but she would never be able to do this on her own. She needs a partner; preferably a realist with experience. That might be a harder ask.

After Derina’s interview, Angela started researching business people who are particularly known for integrity and high ethical standards. It’s a short list too, based on what she’s already seen so far, except one that she’s going to have to build from scratch, because there is no database with such information.

“Yes, there is,” Leona tells her.

“There’s a database of good people?”

“Pretty much, yes. It’s not Winona’s department, but the government has curated a list of every member of the country’s labor force. It uses a rudimentary artificial intelligence to rank them according to tendency towards dishonesty and corruptibility, as well as level of import within their current company, and social status in general.”

“Why would they have that? Why would they make that?”

“That’s how they know who to exploit or turn into assets.”

“There it is, that makes more sense.”

“Yeah, so all you would have to do is sort it in reverse, and all the good people will suddenly be at the top of the list.”

“That’s all, huh?” Angela asks sarcastically. “I suppose this list is a matter of public record then?”

“Not quite, but I’m sure I could get you access to it.”

“I don’t want you to burn a favor. At some point, they’re gonna get sick of you.”

“Let them try. They know they don’t want me as an enemy.”

The Advancement of Mateo Matic: October 1, 2398

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Nearly everyone is gone. Olimpia either doesn’t exist at the moment, or is trapped in a different reality. Trina lived in one alternate reality, and died in another. Alt!Mateo, the other Leonas, and Andille ended up who knows where, doing who knows what? Both Bridgette and Cheyenne are dead, as is Heath, though a duplicate doll of him remains. Marie is helping him learn how to function in Palmeria, using the expertise of a clinical neuropsychologist who specializes in rehabilitating patients with severe brain damage. He has never met someone with such an extreme case of cognitive incapacity, and was more than willing to move to a different country just for opportunity. Marie has agreed to let him write and publish a paper on his subject in exchange for anonymity and discretion. Vearden is on the island too, so the McIver boys, Carlin and Moray, aren’t alone. The eldest can take care of himself, and for the most part, his younger brother, but they need a trusted adult around, and Marie is pretty busy most of the time.

With Kivi and Arcadia—who is still in Leona Delaney’s body—now working with the tactical SD6 team in pursuit of Meredarchos, and other bad actors and missing persons, that only leaves five left in the Lofts. Mateo, Leona, Ramses, Angela, and Alyssa now attempt to fill the void once occupied by their friends. They’re finding it quite difficult. Angela’s apartment, which she used to share with Kivi, is clear on the other end of the floor, so she moved in with Alyssa right away. They tried to all eat together in the huge common area, but it’s so awkward with so few people. They’re probably going to start doing it in one of their unit’s from now on. Mateo had a thought to choose Ramses’ place, because he’s more likely to try to get out of meals to work downstairs, so always having to host might force him to take at least three breaks every day.

It’s almost midnight, and they’re still in Bridgette and Cheyenne’s old apartment. Everyone pitched in throughout the day, but Mateo and Alyssa led the effort to clean it out so it no longer reminds them of their failures. Now they’re sitting on the floor together, tossing garbage into an empty box, dwelling on those failures anyway. “We’re gonna have to do this for the condo too,” Alyssa points out. “We should sell it. Or you should sell it. Whoever owns it should sell it.”

“That’s up to Marie,” Leona says, “but yeah, it needs to be cleaned, at the very least. If Heath...or rather, if the new Heath ever learns how to function on his own, they may want to move back, and still stay out of all this stuff. Or since he died in there, she may never want to see it again. We don’t have to worry about that right now, though.”

“This was so stupid, I’m sorry,” Ramses says.

No one knows what he’s talking about. “You’re sorry? About what?” Mateo asks.

“This whole building. This was a dumb idea. There weren’t even that many people with us when we agreed to it. The McIvers were still in Utah, we hadn’t even heard of Bridgette and Cheyenne. Arcadia, Vearden, the other Leonas, Alt!Mateo, Andile? It’s like I knew these people would show up, but I didn’t know that they would leave us.”

“Honestly? I miss the AOC,” Angela adds. “It was small, but it had everything we needed. I took comfort in its efficiency.”

“This was your ship that you’re talking about?” Alyssa asks.

“Yeah, it was great,” Leona explains. “It only had three levels. The top was for facilities and microponics, and the bottom was engineering. The middle was for living. Instead of rooms, we slept in these things we called grave chambers in the floor. You couldn’t even stand up in them, but you could fit two people if you needed or wanted to.”

Ramses bites his upper lip. “We may be able to get it back,” Ramses claims.

“How?” Mateo questions. “We left it in the Fifth Division.”

“We left a copy of it there,” Ramses reveals. “I have another one in my pocket. I mean, I don’t have it right now. It was in my pocket, now it’s locked up in the lab.”

“I thought you couldn’t copy the ship,” Angela begins. “I thought you could only bring it back from a save state at a specific point in space where it once was. That’s why come Marie exists at all.”

“That was a bug, I figured it out,” Ramses says dismissively. I figured out how to save the ship in a pocket dimension on a device...in my pocket.”

“Why haven’t you brought this up before?” Leona asks in a captainly sort of way.

Ramses shrugs. “There’s no such thing as a free lunch. Reconstituting it in this reality would take a shit-ton of temporal energy. The tanks on the Olimpia can’t even fit the volume of Existence water we would need to take from the Bermuda Triangle.”

“Couldn’t you reconstitute it at the Bermuda Triangle?” Mateo offers.

“I guess so, if I thought it would help, but I also don’t know what the point would be,” Ramses laments. “The reframe engine requires a constant supply of temporal energy, as does the teleporter, and even if they didn’t, where would we go?”

“That’s true,” Leona agrees, nodding.

They sit in silence for a while.

“Well, what about the Olimpia?” Alyssa suggests.

“What about it?” Mateo presses.

“We could live there instead, if it’s cozier and efficient.”

“Yeah, I guess that could work,” Angela determines.

Leona and Ramses too think it’s a good idea.

“Wait, are we seriously talking about this?” Mateo questions. We have perfectly good apartments. Who cares if the other units aren’t occupied? When you rent your own apartment in a normal complex, do you think that much about how many neighbors you have? This place is great, we don’t need an alternative.”

“We do need a contingency, though,” Leona decides. “When we had all those people, there was nowhere to escape to, but now we can.”

“You can escape through me, because I’m a teleporter,” Mateo reminds her.

Leona bites her lower lip. “Did you happen to look at your watch the last time you teleported? I rode with you to take Vearden to Palmeria after your first two roundtrips.”

“Did I—no, why? Did you?”

Leona hesitates to explain, but she knows that she has to. “Yes, it took us five seconds to get from Kansas City to the island, and eight seconds to get back.”

“Okay...is that bad?”

“It’s teleportation, Mateo, it’s meant to be pretty much instantaneous.”

Mateo’s face drops. “Right. What does that mean? Am I losing my power?”

Ramses perks up. “You’re probably losing energy,” he postulates. “You’re losing temporal energy. That’s what happens in this reality, it just gets sucked away.”

“Well, how long do I have?”

“We need to run some tests on you.” Ramses replies. “I guess I know what my next project is now.”

The Advancement of Mateo Matic: September 30, 2398

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Alyssa adds more shirts to the suitcase as Carlin stands there, watching her. He’s old enough to pack for himself, but he doesn’t want to go, so this is his way of being defiant. If she’s the one who wants this, then she’s going to be the one to make it happen, and he doesn’t have to help her with that. Young Moray has just finished packing his own bag, because while he doesn’t want to leave either, making people do things for him is not his style. Alyssa smiles sadly over at him. “Thank you, Mor.”

“Why do we have to go?” Carlin questions.

“Because it’s not safe here anymore.”

“It’s never really been safe,” he argues. “These people’s lives are dangerous, that’s what makes them so interesting.”

“It’s become more dangerous since we arrived,” Alyssa clarifies.

“Then why aren’t you coming with us?” Moray asks her.

She stops trying to close Carlin’s bag, and goes over to Moray. She gets on her knees, and holds him by the arms. “You understand that they’re time travelers, right?”

“Yeah,” Moray confirms, holding back tears.

“Well, they know things about the future. They know things about my future. I’m destined to work with them, they’ve already seen it.”

“What happens to us in the future?”

Alyssa looks at Carlin over her shoulder, and then back to Moray. “You’re safe, and it’s because today, you go to Palmeria.”

“You’re lying,” Carlin believes.

“I’m not,” Alyssa lies. “That is where you belong.” She stands back up. “And this...is where I belong. We’ll see each other again, I promise. Mateo can teleport me there whenever I need to. In the meantime, we’ll holo-chat, and text, okay?”

“Okay.” Moray is still holding back those tears, and doing a pretty good job of it.

“Okay,” she echoes. She leans over to kiss him on the forehead, then turns to face Carlin. “I need you to take care of him, because I’m not in a position to do it anymore.”

Carlin seethes just a little, but then grows determined. He punches the top of his suitcase, and holds his fist in place while his other hand zips it up. “I assume they have internet. I’m not done with the religion research.”

Relieved, Alyssa nods. “They do; Mateo confirmed. In fact, they don’t have dogma filters, so you won’t be limited to any given religion’s biased interpretation of competing faiths. You’ll have a better understanding of the history and culture for your thesis.”

“What’s a thesis?” Carlin asks.

“It’s kind of when you come to a conclusion before your research, and then you do the research to find out if it’s actually true.”

“Do they even need this anymore? I mean, if I’m leaving...”

“Part of the reason you’re leaving is so that you can continue safely, and without worrying about anything else,” Alyssa explains. “It’s still vitally important data; more so now, probably. We’re not just tryna get rid of ya, I promise.”

“I’m helping with it,” Moray interjects.

“I know,” Alyssa says to him proudly. “Now, come on. “We’re going to have one last group meal together before the big move.”