The Advancement of Mateo Matic: October 13, 2398

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The tack team, as it turns out, was on Meredarchos and Erlendr’s trail the entire time. It’s just that Kivi just picked up other people’s scents along the way. It was the original spotter, and newly appointed technician, Manuel Hurst who figured it out. All he did was draw a line from Kansas City to Los Angeles. He then added blue dots that designated places they had gone to, and red dots for reported activity that fit the modus operandi of their target. The dots matched. The rest of the team feels like this validated Kivi’s participation, but she sees it a different way. If they had just gone straight to these places, and looked for the bad guys using traditional means, they may have caught them sooner. She kept distracting the team from the real mission, wasting precious time.

“I know it bothers you now,” Arcadia says, “but you’ll forget about it eventually.”

“How?” Kivi asks.

“You’ll save so many missing persons, and catch so many bad guys, that you’ll remember your trial period as exactly that; a trial. Now that you know that other scents can distract you from the one that you’re going for, you can figure out how to focus.”

“Can you teach me?”

“I don’t know about that. I never had to learn how to use my powers. They were always just...there. I was all but a sociopath, which meant I never had to worry about things like distractions. And then when I was thrown out of The Gallery, I did whatever I wanted. I didn’t have any goals, so there was no way to fail.”

Kivi frowns.

“Bottom line, you just need practice. I think this is a great place for you. This isn’t me, but you belong on this team. I don’t recommend going back to Team Matic, or that software company you were helping with. That’s just my opinion, what do I know?”

“I should think you know a lot,” Kivi muses.

Arcadia chuckles, and then heaves.

“Are you okay?”

She runs into the bathroom, and retches for the second time today as Kivi holds her hair for her. “Ugh,” Arcadia says as she’s wiping her lips. “This new body is irritating. How do you humans live like this?”

Kivi gets a thought. “Umm...women have been living like this for hundreds of thousands of years.”

“Well, it’s annoying.” Arcadia isn’t picking up what she’s putting down.

“I said women have been living like this.”

“What do you mean, that men don’t get sick?”

“Of course they do, but I’m talking about morning sickness.”

Arcadia glances at her watch. “It’s 12:45.”

Kivi rolls her eyes. “I guess your endocrine system doesn’t keep good time.”

“Honest hour, I don’t know what the endocrine system is, except that it’s the thing that Gary Busey is going to pull out of my body if I put that straitjacket on him. Remember, I was literally made out of clay.”

“Well, you’re not made out of clay anymore, you’re living in Leona Delaney’s body. That must be different for you.”

“Don’t remind me, my morning sickness is the least annoying thing that’s—wait. Morning sickness? Are you trying to tell me...?”

I’ll go buy you a home test,” Kivi volunteers.

“It’s not possible,” Arcadia says.

“I assure you, it is.”

When she returns twenty minutes later, Arcadia takes the test into the bathroom, and carefully follows the instructions. Near as she can tell, they’re just like they are in the main sequence. You pee on a stick, and look for a symbol after a minute or two. Not that she’s ever concerned herself with such pedestrian matters. Like she mentioned, her original body was made out of clay. She had all working outward parts, but her internal organs were a different matter. They weren’t nonexistent exactly, but they weren’t the same either. They had minimal function, and were mostly there for show. Honest hour again, she had never even had sex before she came here, and met Vearden Hayward. She was told, and believed, that she could never get pregnant, no matter which body she was in. It wasn’t just her womb or hormones, but her mind. It wasn’t fit for motherhood, so it could never be. She was supposedly designed that way.

It was the same for all the Preston clay children. Zeferino had a way with the ladies. As far as she knows, he never abused his power, but he did enjoy the occasional recreational...event. Nerakali would be a better comparison, but she seemed to have no interest. There is no precedent for this situation. A pregnant Preston? That’s absurd.

Kivi nods as they’re waiting for the results. “That may be true in the main sequence. If you jumped into someone else’s body, maybe you really couldn’t have children, even if that person normally would. But this is the Third Rail. The rules are different here. Why did you not use protection?”

“I guess when you spend thousands of years without so much as considering something as a possibility, you don’t let go of it, even when the variables change.” She buries her face in her hands. “I can’t do this. When Athanaric told me that I couldn’t have children, he was discussing it on a neuroglandular level. When my father said the same thing...he was talking about it psychologically. I’m a garbage person. Vearden and you guys have made me better, but I’ll never really get that stink off of me.”

“I don’t believe that,” Kivi says sincerely.

The alarm goes off.

“You read it.”

“Okay.” Kivi takes the stick, and compares the readout to the chart imprinted next to it. Rip it off like an adhesive bandage. “Arcadia, you’re pregnant.”

Arcadia grabs the stick, and looks at it herself. Then she pulls the second stick out of the box, and goes back into the bathroom. Guessing that Arcadia may be in denial, she bought three more boxes of three different brands, which Arcadia proceeds to pee on until she runs out. That’s eight tests in total, the girl is pregnant.

“Are you going to tell Vearden?”

“Of course I will, what kind of person do you think I am? Oh, wait...”

“In my—albeit limited—experience, sooner is better than later.”

Arcadia looks down at the pile of tests and boxes. “Would you mind disposing of all this in such a way so as to prevent anyone else at this blacksite from seeing them?”

“Consider it done. What are you going to do?”

“Do you know where he is?”

“Last I heard, he was still with Marie at the hospital in Chicago.”

“Then I’m going to Chicago.”

The Advancement of Mateo Matic: October 12, 2398

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Mateo survived his trip up into orbit. He concentrated on making the jump to the best satellite for the job, according to what little information Ramses gave him about it. He placed the scanner on the hull and let it go. It started spinning and transforming on its own, staying in place, and freeing Mateo to die. He didn’t, of course. His body too transformed, back into the way it was before they got stuck in this reality, but after Leona downloaded his mind to this upgraded substrate. Ramses did say that they would be able to survive in the vacuum of space, though to be fair, he said that it could last for hours. All he could do was hang onto the satellite he had co-opted, and hope for a miracle. His biological enhancements were back, but his temporal powers were gone. He could feel both the timonite, and the telekinetic coating, drip off of him, and land by the scanner. He had no way of teleporting back home. All he could do was feel.

If Mateo were better with technology, maybe he could figure out how to send a message to Ramses through the scanner, but he didn’t know what any of its few buttons did, and he couldn’t risk pressing them if one turned out to be an off button, or something. It was better to sacrifice himself than to ruin their best chance of finding Meredarchos and Erlendr. His only option was to send vibes outwards and hope that a member of his team could feel them. He thought that maybe he could feel Leona’s emotions in return, but it was hard to tell. What Ramses failed to explain was that surviving in the vacuum is not the same thing as breathing in an atmosphere. It’s not painful, but it’s highly uncomfortable. Imagine stretching your arms out in the morning, or after you’ve finished the first paragraph and a half of a story that you’re writing. Now imagine never being able to put your arms down, or readjust your position in any way. That’s what it’s like to be in space, unable to breathe—not needing to, but still feeling the constant urge to respire.

Leona saved him yesterday in a spacesuit, which could not have come too soon. There is no telling how long Mateo would have been able to hold on. It had become even harder to go without having normal bodily function than it was at the beginning. She wrapped him in an emergency vacuum-sealed tent, and opened a tank of oxygen. It slowly repaired the damage that space had done to him, and before their supply ran out, Leona had already installed and activated the carbon scrubber. They have been sitting here ever since then, still tied to the satellite, waiting for the end of quarantine. Something on the planet is keeping them from realizing their full potential in these bodies. That’s the only explanation for why Mateo isn’t a popsicle right now. He has to recover completely before it’s safe for him to go back to whatever that is. They were also not entirely sure what that recovery would entail, or how detrimental it could be to just start trying to walk around on the ground afterwards. So far, neither of them has experienced any health issues. They were likely never in any danger. Even so, it was a necessary precaution, and one which might yet prove to be inadequate. They still have to see what it’s like for them down on the surface.

It’s time for that right now. At this point, the risks are no longer decreasing the longer they wait. It’s going to be a delicate dance. They’ll have to detach from the satellite, retract the tent, teleport the maximum distance, which should be a few dozen kilometers up in the air...and then parachute down. All with only one spacesuit.

The Advancement of Mateo Matic: October 11, 2398

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Angela and Ramses stared at the sky after Mateo left, even though they obviously wouldn’t have been able to see him floating around up there. They themselves floated in the water for around ninety minutes until Ramses’ device beeped. The satellite module was up there, and starting to scan every brain in the world. It will take a little bit of time, but he programmed it with a threshold. Each scan will look for the most generalized data first. They’re not hunting for someone of an exact age. They’re looking for someone with an ungodly number of years of experience. The scanner doesn’t have to look very deep into someone’s mind to see whether they’ve been around for a lifetime, or several lifetimes. To be safe, he placed this threshold at a hundred years. Yes, it will find people who are 110 years old, but that’s okay, there still shouldn’t be too many to sift through, and once they have their dataset pared down, they will be able to run more detailed scans to tease out the specific person that they’re looking for. They don’t know how old Meredarchos is, and they don’t know how old Erlendr is at this moment, but it’s well past a century, and in all likelihood, the scanner will come back with an error when it comes across a single brain with two consciousnesses.

The two of them hit their emergency teleporters, and returned to the lab to watch the data come in. They would focus their efforts on North America, since the entity has only been spotted here, but that’s not how the scanner works. They’re not in control of whatever satellite the module managed to latch itself onto. It’s going to make a pass at a rate according to its speed of orbit, and will scan as many minds as possible before it passes out of range. Then it will make another pass and try again. It will do its best to filter and ignore duplicates, but the tradeoff in the cursory glance is that it won’t always know whether it scanned a given individual yet. Still, napkin math suggests that the process will only take a day. It takes half a day. It’s morning.

“There, that’s him,” Ramses announces, waking Angela up.

“Are you sure?” Angela asks.

“It has to be. This is the second time the scanner has seen him. It’s returned an error, because it can’t rectify the unusual brain chemistry, just as I had hoped and predicted.”

Angela picks up her phone, and dials. “I’m calling Kivi.” Arcadia is the one who picks up. Apparently, the tactical team is not too far from where Meredarchos and Erlendr are hiding out in San Diego, but they’re all pretty far from where Marie is being made comfortable at a hospital in Chicago. She hangs up. “I believe Mateo.”

“What do you mean?” Ramses is still looking over the data, making sure that there aren’t any other outliers, who might actually be who they’re looking for.

“He said that the Vertegens gave me immortality water, and that they gave each one to me in order. Do you know the order?”

Ramses sighs, and peels himself from the screen. “Yes.”

Angela waits for him to elaborate. “Go ahead.”

He sighs again. “You need Catalyst from the early waters of Earth, Longevity from Atlantis, Time from the island of Lorania on Dardius—which is in another galaxy, by the way, so I’m not sure how the Vertegens would have pulled that off.”

“Keep going,” Angela urges.

“Assuming you drank those three, the next one you would need is Body from the Atacama Desert, Existence from the Bermuda Triangle, Invulnerability from the North Pole, Energy from the Dead Sea, Youth from the Fountain of Youth in Florida, Death and Health from the Pools of Pamukkale, and...”

“Go on, don’t stop now.”

“And for any of these to become permanent, you would have to drink Activator from the last liquid water on Earth before it’s destroyed. Earliest estimate of that is a bolide impact on par with the Theia collision, which created the moon, which could happen anywhere between now and never, followed by solar expansion in over seven billion years.”

“So you’re saying there’s a chance.”

“Angela, you can’t save Marie by sticking yourself in the Insulator of Life. You would have to put, not just your mind, but also your body in there, and we don’t know how Meredarchos did it. We don’t even know if what you do can affect Marie at all!”

Angela goes over the lockers, where an extra set of tactical gear is just hanging there in case of emergency. “Fortunately, we find the Insulator, we find Meredarchos, so I’ll just ask him.”

“You won’t be able to get to San Diego in time,” Ramses warns. “The government team is already right there.”

“That’s why you’re gonna give me an injection of temporal energy. I know that you collected rocks from the Atacama, which you squeezed water out of. Don’t I need that one anyway?”

Ramses isn’t happy about testing his new formula on a living organism, but he doesn’t have much choice. Yes, he took rocks from the desert. Each one has oxygen and hydrogen trapped inside, and a process called electrolysis allows a scientist such as himself to extract both. The results can then theoretically be recombined to produce water, which he did. It is a painstaking process, and he needed a lot of rocks to make even one vial of the stuff, but it tested positive for temporal energy. It’s Body water, through and through. He unlocks one of his cabinets, and then lifts the bottom up to reveal a small refrigerated safe. He unlocks that with a 42-digit code, and retrieves the syringe. “Have a seat, I’ll get the rubbing alcohol.”

Once the injection is in, Angela finishes putting on her gear. She offers to take Ramses with her, but he decides that someone needs to stay at home base, which makes sense. So Angela teleports alone, all the way to the tack team’s location in Chula Vista, particularly to Kivi’s position. Best guess is Meredarchos and Erlendr are aware that the team is hot on their trail, and are trying to make a break for it across the border to Mexico. It’s hard enough for normal authorities to cross for official business, but when it comes to covert operatives, you can forget about it. It’s now or never.

“You shouldn’t be here,” Kivi whispers.

“I’m better trained than you are,” Angela either informs, or reminds, her. She can’t remember how much she’s talked about her experiences in the afterlife simulation.

A voice comes in on the radio, “spotter, report.”

“No visual yet,” Kivi reports back. “We have an addition who will be assisting with capture.”

“Understood.”

“She’s just letting me join the mission without question?” Angela asks.

“She’s been told that we have unusual skills and knowledge, and access to rare or unique resources. She’s been advised to expect people like you showing up when the situation calls for it, and assumes that you’ve all been properly vetted. It’s a pretty great group,” Kivi says, putting the binoculars back in front of her eyes. “I know that you’re worried about your sister, but please try not to ruin it.”

“I’m not here to get the Insulator back to my sister. I’m here to get in, and prevent her from ever getting sick.”

“I don’t understand how any of that works, but—” She interrupts herself to speak into the radio. “Visual on the target. I repeat, I have a visual on the target.” A man has just rounded the corner in the vacant park. He’s struggling to walk, but not because of any disability. He’s acting like half of him doesn’t really want to go in that direction. Maybe that’s exactly what’s happening. If Meredarchos and Erlendr are evenly matched, psychically speaking, it may still be difficult for them to agree on a course of action. That’s good for them.

“Light ‘em up,” the leader orders.

“No, you can’t kill him,” Angela argues, getting to her feet. “I need him to tell me how to use the Insulator.

“Stop,” Kivi demands at a loud whisper. “She means to target him with a laser designator.”

It’s too late. Angela stops herself from heading towards the man, but her cover’s been blown. He looks up, and spots her. He takes a gut out of the back of his pants and tries to aim it at her, but something stops her. That doesn’t really make much sense. At worst, both Meredarchos an Erlendr want her dead, and at best, they don’t care. Either way, nothing should be holding them back.

“Go, go, go!” the leader orders. “Blitz formation!”

Seven other people come out of the woodwork, and begin to run towards their target, holding their own guns. He tries to aim at any one of them too, but he can’t hold his weapon at anything but the ground. He yells, frustrated with his own inadequacy. The team overwhelms him, so he tries to invade their minds, but he’s shocked to find that they’re all impervious to his psychic powers, thanks to a little mental masonry on Arcadia Preston’s part. Two operatives place him in cuffs while a third searches his bag.

“Do you see a small glass greenish-blue object in there?” Angela asks.

“This right here?” He takes the Insulator of Life out.

“Yes.” Angela takes it from him and shakes it in front of Meredarchos’ face. “How do you get in this thing physically? It’s only supposed to be able to store consciousness, so how do you do it? Tell me!”

“I have no idea.” He kind of looks like he’s telling the truth, but that’s not good enough.

“Tell me!” she repeats.

“I honestly don’t. I didn’t even know that wasn’t how it was supposed to work,” Meredarchos claims. “She’s the one who put me in it in the first place.” He jerks his head towards Arcadia.

Everyone looks at her. “I don’t know what he’s talking about,” she tells them.

Kivi nods understandingly. “You haven’t done that yet. It’s in your future.”

“I must figure it out eventually,” Arcadia realizes. “The problem is that could mean this very moment, or a hundred years from now.”

“Marie doesn’t have that kind of time,” Angela complains.

“Then let’s give her more time.” It’s Leona. No one noticed her appear, and they don’t know where she’s been, or what she’s been up to, this entire time. “I suspected as much as Mateo did regarding the water, and I’ve been working on a backup plan.”

“What might that be?” Kivi asks.

Leona doesn’t bother answering her. She brings Angela into a hug, and teleports them both away. They land in the underground lab where Leona worked before the government provided them with their own facility at The Lofts. Angela looks up in awe at the huge spaceship towering above them.

“Welcome home,” a woman says, approaching them.

“Whoa. What are we doing here?” Angela asks.

“Angela Walton, this is Magnus Petra Burgundy. Petra, Angela.”

Angela shakes Petra’s hand. “It’s nice to meet you.” She faces Leona. “What am I doing here, LeeLee?”

“This is how we save Marie. What you need is time. Time to...procure the necessary ingredients for her recovery.” She eyes Petra, who clearly doesn’t know everything about what’s going on here, though she didn’t bat an eye when they appeared out of nowhere, so she doesn’t know nothing.

“The Insulator was a bust,” Angela laments.

“I know. That was probably never going to work. That’s why I’m giving you this.” She gestures towards the ship. “This project has not been officially abandoned, but when the government started focusing on homeland grid integration of fusion power, space exploration ended up on the backburner.”

“How does that help me? We already have Time water from Dardius,” she says through gritted teeth. It doesn’t matter much. Petra can hear, but isn’t familiar.

“You’re not going anywhere, per se,” Leona begins. “You’re going on a loop to and back from the Oort Cloud. For us, months will pass, but for you, around six hours. This is regular special relativity at work, no time powers necessary, just profound speed.”

“Is this going to work?” Angela questions.

“We can’t let the earlier water that you drank break down in your system. This is the only way.”

“Am I going alone?”

“I’m going with,” Petra says, “as will a crew of experts. You’re in good hands.”

Angela is nervous, but she trusts Leona’s judgment. “I guess I’ll see you on the other side then. It’s ready to go, right?”

“We’ve been in a holding pattern,” Petra explains, “but the countdown started as soon as you showed up. Follow me.”

All three of them take the elevator to the entry level of the ship while the silo blast doors are closing. “Shouldn’t you stay out here?” Angela asks Leona.

“I need to pick up my husband. I can’t teleport all the way into orbit, so I’m going to hitch a ride, and then bug out before you break orbit.” Hmm...he’s alive?

They continue walking through the corridors until reaching the seating area. Carlin and Moray are playing a card game with two other crew members. Angela exchanges a look with Leona, but they don’t talk about it. This may be the safest place for them. After the countdown reaches zero, they launch into space, much to the surprise of everyone in the world. Shuttles don’t launch from Kansas City.

Several hours later, Marie wakes up in her hospital bed feeling much better.

The Advancement of Mateo Matic: October 10, 2398

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Ramses injected the AI he took from the abandoned Constant into the Olimpia, and programmed it to fly itself to the Kerguelen Islands so that it could pick Mateo up, and bring him home. He didn’t have time to do anything else, and now he’s glad that he did that. Marie was poisoned last night, and there so far appears to be no cure. The doctors don’t know what exactly is wrong with her, but the disease is incredibly aggressive, and her body is already starting to shut down. She might not last more than a day or two unless something drastic is done. He has one idea, but he can’t do it on his own. He needs their vehicle back, and fortunately, it’s forgoing aerial and noise regulations, and landing right now.

Mateo jumps out of the door before the wheels make contact with the ground. “Do we have enough Existence water to make it to the triangle?”

“It’s hard to calculate,” Ramses says as he’s wheeling the tank towards him. “It will get us closer, and that’s the best we can do. Then we’ll have more than enough to conjure the copy of the AOC.”

Mateo reaches out to help carry it up and down into the engineering section.

“No! Don’t touch it. Don’t touch anything.”

Mateo frowns, but nods. “I’m coming anyway. You may need me.”

“I know.”

As Ramses is loading the temporal energy-infused water into the special engine, Mateo sees Angela running towards them from the basement garage. “Where is he?”

“He’s inside,” Mateo answers.

“He didn’t tell me that you were on your way. He was going to leave with me.”

“I’m sure he was just distracted,” Mateo says to her, unsure if it’s really true.

“I’m coming!” she cries down to Ramses.

“I was trying to protect you!” he yells back.

“I’m trying to protect my sister!” she snaps.

“Okay,” Mateo tries to mediate. “We’re all here. Let’s take off and go.”

“No time for take off,” Ramses says as he’s drying off his hands on a rag.

“That’s dangerous,” Mateo reminds him. “It could damage the pavement, and the transporter.”

“No time!” Ramses contends. “If you hadn’t gotten lost, we wouldn’t be in this mess! Olimpia, teleport to the center of the Bermuda Triangle!”

“Preparing to teleport.”

“Hold onto something,” Angela warns.

A lot of good that does them. Half of the Olimpia survives the jump with them, and not the half that you think. It’s split down the middle hotdog-wise. All three passengers managed to be on the right side, but they’re in trouble. They fall out of the sky, kind of like how they did over the Arctic circle. Luckily, they’re not more than ten meters high. The seat cushions are floating devices, like one might find in a regular airplane. They each find one to cling onto, and try to catch their breaths.

“Please tell me that you at least still have the remote,” Angela asked.

“These pockets have zippers,” Ramses says. He takes it out. “Don’t worry, it’s waterproof too.”

Angela takes out her phone. “Do you see where we are? It looks pretty close to the center to me.” The closer they are to the center of the Bermuda Triangle, the stronger the temporal energy is.

“These aren’t the coordinates that I was hoping for, but it’s not like we can fly or boat our way the rest of the way. I’ll just have to try it here.” He gets himself better situated on his cushion, then brushes the droplets off of his face, and spits out the salt. Then he dips the remote into the water.

“Wait, that’s all you have to do,” Angela questions, “dip it in?”

“It’s designed to absorb temporal energy, in any form. If this doesn’t work then we are not getting the AOC back, and we’re not going to be able to put Marie in a stasis pod, and she’s going to die. So do you want to ask more questions, or do you want to try to save her?”

“Go ahead.”

Ramses presses the button.

The magnificent Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez appears out of nowhere, right on top of the surface of the water. It’s really nice to have it back, if only a copy. Then again, it’s not the first copy they’ve used. Time, right? Their relief is short-lived when the bottom of the ship begins to disappear.

“Ram,” Angela says.

“I know.” Ramses gets on his stomach and starts to furiously paddle himself towards it.

“Ram, it’s sinking,” Angela furthers.

“I know!” he repeats.

“Ram!” Mateo cries.

“I said I know!”

“Stop swimming, it’s just gonna suck you under!”

The thing goes down fast. Before they know it, it’s gone. Ramses slaps the water angrily. I didn’t design it to float, but it still may have. Why didn’t I design it to float?”

Mateo notices something out of the corner of his eye. “That thing is floating.”

Ramses looks over at it. “That’s the satellite. Well, it’s part of a satellite. It can theoretically scan every consciousness in the world, and determine an approximate age by estimating the number of memories that the individual has developed through the accumulation of neural connections. It’s even programmed to attach itself to a preexisting satellite, I just have no way of getting it into space.”

“That’s how you’re trying to find Meredarchos,” Angela acknowledges.

“No,” Mateo says. “That’s how we find the Insulator of Life.” He gets on his stomach too, and starts to paddle towards the debris.

“Mateo, what are you doing?” Ramses asks. “Mateo, you’re not seriously thinking of trying to go up there, are you?”

“Mateo, don’t! You’ll die!”

He reaches the device, and fishes it out. It’s lighter than he would have thought. “Listen, there’s something that I never knew if I should mention, but I think we all know that those Vertegens gave you immortality water, and they obviously did it in the right order, but they didn’t give you all of them. You don’t have time to find the rest right now, but if you can’t get Marie into the Insulator, getting yourself into it may work. That is the whole point of Time water. I love you all.” He disappears.

The Advancement of Mateo Matic: October 9, 2398

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Fairpoint Panders is not working alone, and he has control over everything. Evidently, Palmeria is a coveted prize. There is an organization that has dedicated itself to figuring out how to breach its short borders. They believe that it must contain something so valuable that it would set them up for life. The truth is that, other than universe-hopper, Keaton Palmer himself, there is nothing particularly special about the islands. It has dirt, trees, and other plants. There are a few small rodents, and birds. Fish swim nearby. The resort is a wonderful and tranquil place that can transform the most stressed out individual into the epitome of contentment and chill. It’s a cool place, but its main draw is its exclusivity. That’s what keeps the business going. A limited number of people will ever be allowed to enjoy the amenities, which makes any potential vacationer that much more intrigued by the possibility. It’s not like a real life Fantasy Island, or whatever this organization is imagining. It’s just really nice here.

As far as they can tell, Fairpoint is not a member of the so-called Palm Readers, but he did make contact with them, and convince them to take their methods to the next level by finally making good on their promise of breaching those borders. As it turns out, they were closer than Keaton knew. Here they are, having taken everyone hostage, and demanding answers. Of course, Fairpoint doesn’t care about any of that. He just wants to know what happened to his ex-husband, and Marie is not doing a very good job of explaining it away. Brain damage? How? Under what circumstances? Can it be undone?

“I’ve told you everything that I can!” Marie shouts back. “We didn’t mean for this to happen, but it did, and now I’m doing everything I can to reteach him.”

“But he won’t be the same.” Fairpoint questions. He’s heard all of this already. He just keeps expecting a different answer. “There’s no recovering those memories.”

Marie looks over at Dr. Merrick, who doesn’t think so, given the information at his disposal. He’s right, this is a different Heath. “No. The memories are gone.”

“So my Heath is dead,” Fairpoint reasons.

“No. My Heath is gone. Your Heath left you years ago, because you’re the type of person who would take children hostage.”

“I didn’t know that children were here,” Fairpoint claims. “They’ll be free to go once the Palm Readers find a way to safely transport them off of the island without your shadowy government agents being able to sneak through.”

“You could just give up,” Marie argues. “You can’t undo what’s been done to Heath, and your little friends aren’t going to find whatever they’re looking for here.”

“She’s right,” the Palm Reader who was assigned to watch them says to Fairpoint. “We were wrong. There’s nothing special here.”

“Then go,” Fairpoint says dismissively. “I don’t care what you do. I just used you to get me across the border.”

“We didn’t sign up for hurting kids,” the guy explains. “We can’t leave until we know that they’ll be safe.”

“Take them with you, and hand them off to the authorities,” Fairpoint suggests.

“Then we’ll get in trouble for transporting children across national borders.”

“You’re already in trouble for kidnapping them, what’s one more charge?”

“Mr. Panders, you need to stand down, and you need to convince our leader to do the same. He’s going crazy in the other room. He insists that there’s a secret basement entrance somewhere.”

“We couldn’t build a basement on this island,” Keaton tells him. “The ground isn’t stable enough. We don’t need one. I assure you, there is nothing here but good vibes and good food. And nice bedsheets.”

“I believe you,” the Palm Reader replies. “But try telling him that” He jerks his head back towards the door, in the general direction of his boss.

“Fairpoint,” Marie says, trying to get them back on track, “this has gone far enough. Let us go.”

“No.” He frowns over at Heath 2.0, who is smiling dumbly in the corner, totally unable to grasp the gravity of the situation. “No, I came here with two objectives. I wanted to know whether he could be fixed, and also to punish the responsible party.”

“The responsible party is in the wind,” Marie says for the upteenth time. “In fact, your little stunt has diverted resources that are meant to be used to track him down.” Marie doesn’t technically know that Kivi and Arcadia’s team are the ones on the other side of the border, trying to correct this situation, but her position is sound.

“He may have done the deed, but I blame you too.” He turns away from Heath 2.0 to face Marie. “I blame you for everything.” He takes out a gun, but doesn’t aim it.

“Whoa, dude,” there’s no need for that,” the Palm Reader contends. They’re mostly nonviolent, but Fairpoint lit a fire under their ass, and corrupted their mission.

Fairpoint walks over to Heath 2.0. He gently caresses his cheek with his free hand. Heath smiles wider, and leans into the hand. “I love you. I always will. I’m the only one who loves you enough to free you from this prison.” He lifts the gun, and shoots Heath 2.0 right in the forehead.

Marie yelps.

The Palm Reader walks out of the room. “Nope. Nope, nope, nope.”

“You were destined to be arrested as soon as you stepped foot on this island,” Marie says to Fairpoint in a quiet rage. “Now you’ll get the death penalty.” Very few countries have banned capital punishment. “I will see to it.”

“You won’t be seeing anything after the next few days,” Fairpoint tells her. He takes what looks like a puzzle box out of his bag, and sets it on the table. He slides his finger across the faces, edges, and corners in a pattern to release the locking mechanism of the puzzle box. Inside is a mostly spherical object that comes to a point at the top as a cone dropped upon its ice cream. Upon that is a needle. He then takes out his knife and knicks Marie on the arm. He lets several drops of blood run off the blade and land on the needle. “This is a gene bomb. Do you know what that is?”

“Yes.” They used those in Carnage World in the afterlife simulation. They would target specific code, so that the explosive could go off, and only damage specific people. They were inspired by base reality weapons, which used DNA instead of computer code.

“Mr. Palmer, thank you for your hospitality,” Fairpoint says in the tone one might use at the end of a pleasant dinner party. “I’ll be taking my leave now.” He walks out.

Keaton pulls the rope binding his wrists under his body, and stands up. He runs over to grab the bomb. “I’ll take this as far as I can.” He crashes through the window, and hops out. It proves to be pointless. The bomb’s range is very wide. Marie feels the blast a few minutes later. She’s going to die.

The Advancement of Mateo Matic: October 8, 2398

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Mateo’s phone rings. It’s Moray, which isn’t odd. His brother, Carlin has been calling a lot lately, trying to get him to teleport up to Palmeria. This is probably him, thinking that using a different phone is like a new strategy. “Mr. Matic, are you there?” It actually is Moray, he’s whispering.

“You can just call me Mateo,” he reminds him.

“You need to come right now. I know that we keep saying that, but it really is an emergency.”

“What kind of emergency?” Mateo asks. “Tell me what happened.”

“Heath’s ex-husband is here. He’s really mad. He’s demanding to see him and Marie. He has Carlin and me trapped on the little island. We’ve been helping get the resort ready for the next guest every morning, but the Waltons are still in the main house on the big island. They don’t know anything’s happened yet. What do we do?”

“I’m not sure that I can teleport,” Mateo explains as he’s rushing down the stairs, “but I’m going to do what I can. I’m going to hand Ramses the phone, so you can stay on the line with him.”

“I don’t know how long I can hide in the bathroom,” Moray explains in a lower voice. “He’s going to get suspicious.”

“Don’t make him any angrier,” Mateo tells him. “Hang up if you have to. Someone is coming, I promise.” He’s reached the lab. He covers the mouthpiece with his hand, and relays the info to Ramses. Then he hands over the phone, and teleports away.

He doesn’t know where he is, but it’s nowhere near Palmeria. The small border country is on an island in a lake. This is saltwater. And it’s freezing. And he literally doesn’t know which way is up. Let’s see, what did his brother, Darko say about this? That’s right. Blow bubbles, and head in the same direction. He releases what little air he has left, and follows them up. The sun is bearing straight down on him, but it still feels cold enough for him to die of hypothermia. Sometimes, when he’s tried to teleport in recent days, he has arrived late. Often he doesn’t go anywhere at all. He’s occasionally been a little bit off the mark, but unless this is the Great Salt Lake, he’s a thousand miles from his destination. Even if this were the Salt Lake, that would probably be true, though it might not be so cold.

There is no land in sight, though that may have more to do with the waves blocking his view. There’s no way to know, and without even a vague guess as to where he is, he can’t possibly know which direction to try to swim. Well, it could be worse. He could have ended up at the bottom of the ocean, instead of near the surface. Then again, at least that would have been a quick death. Who knows how long he’ll last if he can’t get his powers working again, if only once more? God, that’s such a bad idea. Teleporting is what got him into this mess, it is not going to get him out. Damn, he doesn’t even have his phone! Why didn’t he just ask Moray to hang up and call Ramses? Oh, because it’s only hindsight that is 20/20.

He has to get out of this water, and warm up. His only choice is to pick a direction, and cross his fingers. What he wouldn’t give to be in a lifeboat with a tiger right now, or even just a man with a tiger’s name. This is all wasteful thinking. There is no boat, no living mobile island. There’s just him and the deep blue sea. Whether he makes it to land or not, swimming will get his blood pumping, and keep him warmer for longer. Perhaps Ramses can track all teleportation around the planet. He’ll realize that Mateo never made it to Palmeria, use tech to get there himself to help, and then maybe send someone else on The Olimpia? How long will that take? A matter of hours? Surely he has hours of life left in him. Not necessarily, or rather, not likely.

He takes a deep breath to prepare himself, and then reaches across the water, pulling it towards him. Then he reaches out with his other arm, and does the same thing. He keeps doing that for about three hundred years before he gets tired, and has to take a break. How far did he get? Well, when he first started the sun was over his head, and the water was under his chin, which is still the case, so presumably, he didn’t go anywhere at all. That’s funny, but could also be one hundred percent true. The waves may have even pushed him farther away, which is probably okay, because he doesn’t know where he’s going anyway. Kolby Morse, also known as Guard Number Two, was a lifeguard, and once told Mateo that he knew how to make a lifejacket out of his own pants by tying the legs together, and swinging them over his head to catch and trap air. He didn’t go over the specifics on how to make it work, but this is a better time to try than never.

It takes Mateo several attempts, usually because he’s not happy with how little air he was able to trap, but finally, he has it. Now he can rest. He’s still lost. He’s freezing. But he’s not treading water anymore. For a time, he just stays like that, floating on his back with his eyes closed, and trying to capture as much sunlight as possible. It’s not enough. He has to get as much of his body out of the water as he can. Is that right? That may not be right, because of the wind. Oh my God, how does anyone survive anything! Half of them didn’t. That’s what happens. One person dies trying something, so the next person learns from their mistakes, and does it better. Unfortunately, it’s looking like Mateo is the first one in that allegory. One day, a teleporter with no control over their power is going to be in the same situation, but they’ll do it better, because they’ll hear the tale of this day. They’ll call it...The Downfall of Mateo Matic. Or maybe The Drowning of Mateo Matic. Or, no, how about—what the hell was that?

Is that a breeze underneath him? He swears, it felt like air tickling the shirt under his back. There it is again. He carefully turns his neck, and looks over his pants lifejacket. There’s the water. It’s under him, sure, but he’s in it anymore. He’s hovering over the surface. He’s completely up in the air. He lets go of his pant legs, and looks at his hands. They’re tingling in a way they never have before. Is this...is this true telekinesis? The god who gave him these powers said that they would just allow him to simulate touching things without technically making contact. But whatever magic he used to give him such a limited form of telekinetic powers must also be theoretically capable of real telekinesis. Perhaps that magic is somewhat sentient, and is aware that Mateo is in trouble.

Mateo closes his eyes again, and drops his hands to his sides. He calls upon the spirit of Tony Stark with his rocket hand things, and pushes himself farther away from the water. There’s a learning curve to this flying thing, but he doesn’t go too far up, so if he falls, he’ll land safely in the ocean. He just keeps working at it, and while he never flies like superman, he does make it to an inhabited island, where—after climbing over some language barriers—he manages to learn is not too far from Antarctica, which explains why it’s so damn cold here. A look at the map shows that he’s even pretty close to the region where the Nexus is. Now he just needs a radio.

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.”