The Advancement of Mateo Matic: November 6, 2398

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Ramses tries to deliver The Bridgette back to the park in New York, but it seems that Winona has managed to lock him out of all systems. That’s impressive. These Third Railers are more resourceful than he thought. He’ll have to remember that moving forward. He doesn’t like being surprised, or the one beholden to someone else. He’s always meant to be in control, and once he clears the override feature that Winona installed on this craft, he’ll get back to that. For now, he has to do what she says. They need their starship back, and this is the way they’re getting it. It’s not the first time their plans didn’t go as planned. They always figure out a workaround to the obstacles.

Winona sets her tablet on the console, and lets it sync with the Bridgette. “Constance, please navigate us to these coordinates in realspace.”

“Prepare for liftoff,” the AI replies.

“I’m sorry I had to do that,” Winona says to Ramses. “I like Leona; I consider her one of my own. But I had to make a call. We will get her up into space, I promise you.”

“You can’t promise that,” Ramses says, “but I can. I can also promise you that getting on my team’s bad side never works out for people. You live in your own little reality, but we always win. You apologized with words, now do it through action.”

Winona nods. The computer beeps. She looks down at the console. “We’re here.” She activates the radio. “Amberjack, this is Pelican. Come in, Amberjack.”

“Amberjack Actual here, go ahead.”

“Permission to land and come aboard. Three visitors total, limited equipment.”

“Permission granted.”

“Constance, please land. Once we’re aboard the Amberjack, dive to a depth of thirty meters, and travel three hundred kilometers to the Northeast, avoiding detection along the way. Once there, resurface, launch, and return to base.”

“Understood,” Constance replies.

She regards Ramses’ expression. “The Bridgette will be fully yours after today.”

“Clearly.”

They land the Bridgette, and board the sub. They’re surprised to see what must be a full crew waiting for them. It’s hard to walk through, there are so many people. They were to understand that there would only be a few left around, while the rest rested and relaxed in Bermuda. Winona and Executor Ongaro go into his office to have a chat about it. When they come out ten minutes later, Winona explains to Ramses and Alyssa that rumor spread about what kind of mission they were going on, and everyone wanted to be a part of it. She questioned why he didn’t just order them to go on shore leave, being the Executor and all. He claimed that his own curiosity made him feel like he couldn’t rob others of the opportunity. Bad leadership, if you ask Ramses, but nothing can be done about it now. They have already begun the dive.

By the time they reach the bottom, Ramses has started to receive a signal from the AOC. So not only is it close, but it’s on and operational. That’s good, it strongly suggests that life support is still active. Even if it’s not, it shouldn’t be too hard to re-engage it. Once they’re close enough, the sub’s lights shine upon the vessel. It’s sitting neatly on the ocean floor, right between two little rocky cliffs. Either it was damn lucky to have fallen right in the perfect spot, or the AI is still on, and navigated it well enough to protect hull integrity.

“Wow. This is yours?” one of the crewmen asks.

“Yes,” Ramses replies, not super happy about having all these eyes on his ship.

“It can fly to the stars?” another asks.

Ramses looks over to Winona. “You have some leaks to plug up.” He’s not referring to the sub, or the ship.

“A lot of people had to be read in for this, Winona defends.

“How do we dock with it?” Executor Ongaro asks them.

“We don’t.” And now for the hard part. There are more people here than Ramses was led to believe. Keeping the secret amongst a smaller group would have been easier, but they probably know enough already anyway. He’s just gonna teleport in, now that he has a target. “You have a torpedo room, right?”

Executor Ongaro laughs. “Yeah, but you’re not going to be able to fire one from there, if that’s what you’re thinking. That’s just where they’re loaded.”

“That’s not what I was thinking. I just need privacy. Can you give me that, or are we gonna have a problem?”

Ongaro sizes him up, but decides to agree. “That will be fine.” He doesn’t think there’s anything he can do in that room that they won’t be able to find out about.

The torpedo room offers them a plausible way off of the sub, and onto the AOC. It’s ridiculously impossible at this depth, but they will probably assume that Ramses used some kind of crazy supersoldier serum that allowed him to traverse the distance safely. What he won’t guess is that he can inject himself with a magical formula that will allow him to teleport over there without getting a single drop of water on him. Ongaro leads him down to the other side of the vessel, and shows him into the room, ordering the crew manning their stations to leave. He makes a mistake, though, when he accidentally looks up to the security camera in the corner. That’s fine, disabling basic surveillance is incredibly easy for Ramses with his trusty mission kit.

Winona closes the door behind them. “They’ll still be watching.”

“They’ll try.” Ramses presses the button on his signal scrambler, and shuts off the cameras and microphones. Then he places a magnetic lock on the door, in case going blind pisses them off enough to try to get back in here.

“You’re not going to try to stop me from coming with you?” Winona asks.

“I can’t leave you here with these warmongers,” Ramses tells her. “I’m mad at you right now, but we’ll get through this. That’s what it means to be on our team. Isn’t that what you want?”

“Yes.”

Ramses injects himself with the Existence Water. “Then hold onto me tightly.”

Both Alyssa and Winona take him in a bear hug, and let him transport them into the AOC. He was right, life support is fine. A cursory glance at the diagnostics screen shows that everything is fine. The hull did suffer a few scrapes on the way down, but it repaired itself without any prompting. Ramses takes out the data drive where he keeps the base code for the AI that he got from The Constant. He plugs it into a dataport, and uploads it as an upgrade. “Constance, can you hear me?”

“Five by five,” Constance replies.

“Run full diagnostics on yourself, please.”

Once the perfect diagnostic finishes, Ramses says, “okay, then. Please teleport to the last New York coordinates where the Bridgette was.”

The Advancement of Mateo Matic: November 5, 2398

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Ramses left New York, and came back to Kansas City. The best way to help Leona is to get himself down to the bottom of the ocean, where he can recover the Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez. Mateo had the idea to just go to the surface of the Bermuda Triangle, and utilize the temporal energy there to teleport down, but that’s too risky. They don’t know exactly where it is, and they don’t know if the interior is habitable. It may have all been crushed under the pressure of the ocean, for all they know. The best and safest way to do it would be to take a submarine down there, and enter manually. He is procuring temporal energy injections to be used in an emergency, but hopefully it won’t come to that. The only problem is that they do not have access to a submarine capable of reaching such depths.

“Okay, I’ve secured you a submarine capable of reaching those depths,” Winona says as she’s entering the team’s new laboratory, not looking up from her tablet.

“Really?” Alyssa asks. She stayed in the area, and has been handling the transition for Ramses. No one asked her to do that, but she didn’t want them to have to worry about that. He’s on the roof right now, upgrading the satellite dish, so they can communicate with the AOC once it’s up there.

“Oh,” I thought you were him. “Where is he?”

“Roof satellite,” Alyssa answers.

“Ah.” Winona nods awkwardly. “I’m Winona Honeycutt.”

“I know that. We’ve met. Many times.”

“Right, but we were never really introduced; not formally.”

Alyssa smirks in a confused-but-whatever sort of way. “Alyssa McIver.”

Winona nods awkwardly again.

“Do you want me to go get him, errr...?”

“Yeah, if you could, I think that would be okay.”

Alyssa could just ping his handheld, but Winona is clearly uncomfortable being alone with her. She must have her reasons, which may be as simple as the fact that she mainly deals with the core team, instead of ancillary members like her. So she leaves.

She comes back quickly with Ramses. “I hear you got a sub for me?”

“My superiors are very interested in the prospect of activating a ship designed to travel the stars. The Marine Corps has a deep sea sub capable of reaching the bottom of the ocean. It’s obviously usually busy with other things, but as luck would have it, the majority of the crew is being given shore leave in Bermuda. The skeleton crew remaining has agreed to take a detour to the coordinates that you provided, but we gotta go now if we want to rendezvous with them. They won’t wait for us forever.”

“Us” Ramses questions.

“I’m the liaison. I’m going.”

Ramses looks in the general direction of New York, where most of the rest of the team is. They don’t all have to join them on this mission, but one of them certainly does. “We have to pick up Leona first.”

Winona checks her watch. “We don’t have time for that.”

“The whole point of getting the AOC back is to heal her.”

“It is only one reason,” Winona contends.

“It’s the only one that matters. I don’t know what you’ve sold your superiors on, but your scientists aren’t getting their hands on my ship, and neither is your military.”

Winona sighs, and looks at her watch again. It’s been fifteen seconds. “Some of your magic water is in the Bermuda Triangle, right?” She goes on without waiting for a response, “let’s take your new vehicle there, fill up on whatever you need, quickly jump up to New York, and finally jump back. You did say that the engine you built for it can store enough power for two or more jumps?”

“Yes,” Ramses confirms. “The concentrator filters regular water, so that only—”

“Great, let’s go,” Winona says, urging them on with a wave of her hand.

“I want to go too,” Alyssa announces.

“Fine, whatever.” Winona waves more. “Let’s all go. But we gotta do it now.”

Ramses and Alyssa grab their go-bags, and head for the garage. “Constance,” Ramses speaks into his watch, “run a pre-flight check on The Bridgette.”

“Acknowledged,” the AI replies.

“Working title,” Ramses explains when Alyssa gives him a look.

“I mean the name of your AI,” Alyssa clarifies her expression.

“I got it from the Constant,” he says with a shrug.

“By the time they board the craft, the pre-flight check is complete.”

“Constance,” Ramses speaks into aether this time. “Please fly us to Site W-5.”

“Proceeding to the center of the Bermuda Triangle,” Constance responds.

During the flight, Ramses contacts Mateo to ask him to pick a secluded area upstate where the Bridgette can teleport to. He should transport Leona there, so they can get her all the way to the Triangle, down to the bottom of the ocean, and up into orbit. It’s nearly midnight central when Ramses, Aylssa, and Winona reach the very center of the Triangle. He lands the vehicle in ship mode, and collects enough water to fill his special engine’s storage tanks. Once it’s ready to go, he teleports the whole thing to Harriman State Park. It’s off-season, so there shouldn’t be anyone in the area to witness their arrival and departure. To be honest, he was afraid that it wouldn’t work at all, but they make it to the clearing, and land on the ground to wait for their friends.

Mateo and Leona are nowhere to be found, so Ramses tries to call them, but they don’t answer. Winona keeps urging them to get back to the Triangle. The sub is on a very tight schedule, and there is only a short window to make this detour dive happen. If they miss this window, the sub will move on to its next mission, and she can’t guarantee when they’ll ever have such an opportunity again.

“They’ll be here,” Ramses promises for the upteenth time.

“We can find a way to get her into it later, but right now, we just need to recover it,” Winona insists.

“It doesn’t work like that. Leona is in a fragile state. I can’t just teleport her up there naked. She needs to be in the vessel when it launches.”

“I’m sorry, we can’t wait any longer.”

“Well, there’s not really anything you can do about it, so...” Ramses claims.

“Yes, there is.” Winona pulls a key from inside her shirt as she’s stepping down into the bridge. She removes a hidden panel compartment under the controls, which reveals the keyhole. She sticks her key in, and turns the light from red to green.

“What the hell is that?” Ramses questions.

“My failsafe,” Winona answers. “Constance, jump to W-5.” They jump.

The Advancement of Mateo Matic: November 4, 2398

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Leona wheels herself down the hallway, and peeks into the room. Nope, not who she’s looking for. She continues to the next one. Not this one either. She knows that Cheyenne is in one of these rooms, but they wouldn’t tell her which. They also wouldn’t tell her if that’s just hospital policy, or if Cheyenne specifically asked not to see her. There we go, this room right here. Leona knocks on the door as she’s inviting herself in. “Hey. We haven’t talked yet.”

Cheyenne is sitting up straight in her bed, supporting her back on her own. It looks like a physical therapy exercise. “They told me you weren’t feeling up to visitors.”

“I don’t know why they said that,” Leona replies. “Mateo, Ramses, Kivi, and Marie all came to visit.”

Cheyenne just frowns.

“I wanted to apologize for what happened,” Leona says forlornly. “I never should have put you in that position. The whole thing about that place is that crime is legal. It’s no surprise that people took advantage of that.”

“Not all crime,” Cheyenne counters. “Bombings, which endanger not only a high number of people within the boundaries, but also neighboring areas, are not legal. Besides, didn’t you hear? The suspects are in custody.”

“I heard, yes. I know that they’re the ones who did it, but I still feel responsible.”

“I’m an adult, I made my choice.”

“You’ve lost so much already. Bridgette...” She was trying to start a list, but the first one is too heartbreaking.

“I don’t blame you for what happened to her either,” Cheyenne promises. “Look, I’ve not said much about my past, or my origins, but just know that you have nothing to apologize for. I was born into this secret underground world. You and your team didn’t bring me in, like you seem to think. I may even know more about it than you. If anything, I’m the one who put you in danger, by letting you know me.”

“I don’t believe that.”

Cheyenne chuckles. “You may change your mind one day. You’re time travelers,” she muses with a shrug. “Keeping secrets from people like us inevitably leads to failure.”

Leona narrows her eyes. She wants to know who this woman really is, but she knows that she’s not entitled to it. Still, she’s right. When you’re part of the salmon and choosing one network, you can’t expect to keep things from others, especially not if two or more people know about it. Even the adage, two can keep a secret if one of them is dead is completely meaningless for them. They probably would have cracked this nut a long time ago if the Third Rail weren’t stifling temporal manipulation, and hindering the circulation of information. “It doesn’t matter. That building was mine, and I was responsible for anyone in it, and anything that happened to them.”

Cheyenne nods tightly and respectfully. “Okay.” She leans back, and exhales, either finished with her exercise, or too tired to go on for now.

“Miss, you can’t be in here,” the nurse says from the doorway.

“We’ll talk later,” Cheyenne says.

“In the meantime,” she begins before turning her attention to the nurse, “I would like to speak with administration to find out why I’m not allowed to see my friend.”

The Advancement of Mateo Matic: November 3, 2398

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Kivi can presumably find anyone anywhere, but it helps to have a general idea of where they are. If their targets had run off to hide in Croatia, for instance, she probably would have never found them unless someone tipped them off to this fact. Fortunately, her SD6 team is not the only interested party. Investigators from multiple departments have been looking into the bombing of the former Balance of Power studios, and they do not believe that the culprits have managed to get out of the city. They’re still in New York, and as long as she doesn’t get distracted again, Kivi can take it from there. That’s not all the other investigators found.

A small group known as the Weighers of Justices have claimed responsibility for the attack. This is a new organization; so new that organization is a strong word to use for them. They say that they’re loyal to Solomon Powers and his legacy, and were retaliating against Leona’s legal killing of him, and her takeover of his microsovereignty. They’ve not released names, or shown themselves on camera, so this could all be a red herring, but Kivi and the other members of her team don’t care. Understanding motive is not part of their job descriptions. They just have to find these assholes.

It’s called a Pyramid Whelm. In a standard square or rectangular building, two members of the tactical team will take up positions on corners diagonal from each other. This allows them to watch for escape attempts from all side doors. A third member will take up a position on the roof, in case someone has some way out via helicopter or wingsuit, or something like that. When the main door of any given building is breached by two more tack team members, anyone hoping to evade capture will usually instinctively move to the back. The final two team members will be waiting for them at that exit. This is the most efficient use of a seven-member team, but it is a scalable tactic. A group totaling fourteen can double up on each position, or spread across a larger area, depending on necessity, threat level, and resource inventory. A single-family home can probably be contained with a single team, but an abandoned bulk store, for example, may need some extra people to cover all bases, but the same vaguely pyramidal formation is used in either case.

Before the Whelm comes the recon, which is when a single person, or maybe two people, attempt to gather as much information about a target location as possible before anyone else goes in. This is especially useful in urgent cases such as this, but it’s also risky if a security system tips the targets off to the oncoming containment. That’s what Kivi is supposed to be doing right now at that abandoned bulk story. But she’s not just doing it for her team, because they’re not preparing a Pyramid Whelm today. This is called a Deluge Configuration. It’s basically when every able-bodied law enforcer in the area comes out, and dominates a target location. This has become such an important case, despite the fact that no one was severely hurt, that everyone wants a piece of it. Leona Matic has her detractors—case in point, the bombing—but for the most part, she’s become very popular. People want to see the bad guys go down for this, so every department has a strong incentive to get it done quickly, and unambiguously.

Kivi does not feel the same way that everyone else does, and she knows that neither does Leona. That’s why she’s going to secretly convert the recon mission into a capture mission. She does not have the training or experience to take on all these guys on her own, but she’s doing it anyway, because it’s the safest way to go about it. It’s also the most rational, or maybe it’s more that a Deluge Configuration is an insane tactic. First of all, these people are bombers. This whole structure could be rigged up with explosives, which would put hundreds in needless danger. Secondly, when you have this many people who don’t even know each other, it would be incredibly easy for the suspects to slip away in the chaos. She refuses to let that happen.

As Kivi is double-checking her count of the suspects, Paula crawls up to her. “What are you doing here?” Kivi whispers. “You’re supposed to be hunting for underground exit points.”

“You think I’m going to let you do this alone?”

“It’s my job. I’m the Spotter.”

“Yes, but you’re not just spotting, are you? You were just about to go in alone.”

How does she know that? “What makes you say that?”

“I could see it in your eyes. Maybe I should be the Spotter.”

Kivi frowns. “The Deluge—”

“Is the dumbest thing that some guy with a computer keyboard came up with two hundred years ago. There’s a reason that the SD6 has never employed it once, because it doesn’t work. We’re surgical, that’s the whole point of a seven-person tack team.”

The Technician, Hurst crawls up to their position on the catwalk. “Hey, are we doing this, or what?”

Right behind him are Corolla, Hartwin, Klein, and Alserda. Now the whole team is here. “Are you mad?” Kivi asks their leader.

“No, you had the right idea, just the wrong tactic,” Alserda says. “We’re doing Hermit Crab Formation,” she orders.

“I’m not familiar with that one,” Kivi says.

Lieutenant Klein looks between Kivi and Corolla. “You’re in back.”

“Because I’m the newest?”

“Because you’re the smallest,” Alserda clarifies.

Hermit crabs live in shells created by other organisms. When one specimen grows out of its shell, it has to find a new one. So what they’ll do is get in a line next to each other, and trade shells one right after the other. In this case, Hermit Crab formation dictates the largest member of the tactical team approach the targets in front, hopefully giving the impression that there is only one person about to attack them. As soon as the targets see that an enemy is coming, and the tactical advantage of the ruse is lost, the crabs in back will break formation, and begin the attack using whatever means necessary and authorized. Despite the fact that two people on the team have never done this before, their technique serves them well. All bombing suspects are apprehended without anyone firing a single shot.

Once it’s over, Alserda conducts a brief interrogation in an attempt to ascertain whether there are any impending attacks. This is when they learn the truth. These guys never cared about their former boss, Solomon Powers. There was a vault in the sub-basement, which they robbed. The explosion was just to cover their tracks. They refuse to say where the money is, though. “That isn’t our problem,” Paula advises Kivi.

Kivi turns away, realizing that she’s right, and feeling a sense of relief in this truth. She’s not responsible for detecting clues, extracting confessions, or prosecuting crimes. She finds people; that’s it. What happens afterwards is out of her hands. Then again, that was Leona’s money. Maybe Kivi is responsible for recovering it after all.

The Advancement of Mateo Matic: November 2, 2398

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Leona wakes up in a hospital bed. Her husband’s is the first face she sees. The nurse’s is the next. She tries to speak, but it doesn’t feel like her voice is coming out. The nurse hands Mateo a cup of water so he can hold it under Leona’s chin, and help her sip. Quenched, she can utter the only pertinent word right now. “Report.”

“There was an explosion,” Mateo begins to explain as the nurse is leaving to get the doctor. “They don’t know who, and if they know how, they’ve not released this information to the public. The investigation is going slow. The fact that the crime took place in a crime hole is causing some jurisdictional issues. Normally, an internal investigative team would be expected to handle this on their own, but when neighboring areas are at risk, external forces are willing to come in, which they have to, because—”

“Because I drained the swamp of nearly all staff, and absolutely all security,” Leona recalls. “I don’t regret it.”

“This being the case, police would usually try to get consent from the owner of the crime hole to step in, but since you were incapacitated...”

“They have it,” Leona says. “Anyone with the authority to investigate crime has my consent and support to do what they must.”

“I’ll text Winona,” Mateo says, taking out his device.

Once he’s done with that, Leona says, “go on.”

“Cheyenne and Marie were hurt; Cheyenne the least. She was conscious, and able to inform the rescuers that only the three of you were in the building at the time. Is that a fair assessment?”

“As far as we knew, yes. We kept a few staff to help with the transition, but we asked them not to come in today—”

“It’s the second of November,” Mateo interrupts.

“We asked them not to come in on that day,” Leona amends. “We wanted to walk the space, and envision the changes. Is it destroyed? Is the whole thing gone?”

“It is, yes. It was a massive explosion.”

“That’s a silver lining. We were just discussing how we would prefer to knock it down, and rebuild from scratch...assuming we haven’t lost ownership over it.”

“No one has said as much. I don’t know how it works.”

The doctor comes in and performs a basic examination on Leona. She has multiple bruises, a head laceration, and both of her legs are broken. She cracks a joke about this being a blessing since she didn’t have to cut them off, like last time. He doesn’t think it’s funny, but if he knew that she wasn’t lying... She’s going to make a full recovery, but the healing process is going to take some time. She will be confined to a wheelchair for the next three months at least, maybe even longer. She would be able to transition to crutches sooner, but there’s little point in trying that when both legs need time to heal. Leona is taking it surprisingly well. Again, if he only knew the kinds of things she has gone through, he would understand that this is not life-shattering news. It sucks, but if all else fails, she should eventually be able to just transfer her consciousness to a new body.

Shortly after the doctor leaves to let Leona get some rest, there is a knock on the door. Mateo answers to find Kivi on the other side. She steps into the room quietly, and looks around cautiously. She opens the door to the bathroom, like she’s expecting another person to be here. Then she settles her gaze back on Leona, and finally exhales.

“Are you looking for another bomb?” Leona asks.

“No, I was looking for the people who did it,” Kivi replies.

“What made you believe that they were in here? You don’t think that one of us did it, do you?”

“Of course not!” Kivi says. “I think I’ve overestimated how much control I’ve developed over my psychic abilities. I want to catch the people who did this to you, but my heart just wanted to make sure my friend was okay.”

“That’s sweet,” Leona says. “Thank you.”

“I better get back to the team.” Kivi lifts her watch up, and speaks into it, “code orange. Stand down.”

“Code orange?” Mateo asks.

“Like a detour sign?” Kivi explains. “These are not the droids we’re looking for.”

“Why do you know pop culture references from the wrong reality?” Leona questions.

“I dunno.” Kivi starts to back out of the room casually. “Why is a tree good? Why is the sunset good? Why are boobs good?”

Leona narrows her eyes at her. “I love you.”

“Love you too!” Kivi calls back just as she’s stepping out of view.

Leona manages to get a little bit of sleep before Ramses abruptly invites himself into the room. “She’s asleep,” Mateo tries to whisper, but it’s too late.

“I’m up.”

“Good.” Also without asking, Ramses lifts the bedsheets, and slides Leona’s hospital gown up to get a look at her legs.

“Oh good, you’ve graduated from medical school at last,” Leona jokes.

“I just need a quick look.” Ramses feels Leona’s upper thighs, and sticks his fingers down her casts.

“And a feel.”

“Sorry.”

“No, it’s your body; you built it for me.”

Ramses rolls his eyes. Then he takes out his version of a Star Trek tricorder, and scans her legs. “Yeah, I think this will work, but I can’t promise.”

“What will work?” Mateo asks, growing impatient.

“Did anyone tell you that we’re planning to raise the Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez from the bottom of the ocean?” Ramses asks them as he’s checking Leona’s lymph nodes for an as of yet unknown reason.

“Yeah, what does this have to do with my wife’s medical condition?”

“Do you remember what happened to you when you teleported yourself into orbit? Did you die up there?”

Leona realizes what Ramses is thinking. “Oh. You think if I break the planet’s atmosphere, I’ll regain my transhumanistic upgrades, and reactivate my healing nanites, which will repair my legs.”

“That’s the idea,” Ramses confirms.

“Is that even a thing?” Mateo asks.

“Only one way to find out.” Ramses and Leona high five each other.

The Advancement of Mateo Matic: November 1, 2398

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Kivi drops her bag on the bench, and opens her locker. She starts to undress. Paula Strand walks in to start doing the same, and gives her a bit of the stink eye. There is a hierarchy within the ranks of a tactical team. When Paula first started, she was at the bottom, and when her direct superior was promoted to the position of Lieutenant, she too moved up to become the Engineer. But even though Kivi is the new guy around here, she now ranks higher, because she officially entered the team as the Spotter. Hurst actually took a demotion when he decided to replace Paula as Technician, but he doesn’t seem to have any problem with that. It’s a special skill set, so it all works differently than what you might find in a military setting, where a rank determines one’s leadership level and pay grade, with specializations being a separate category. Here it’s arbitrary, really, that a Spotter ranks higher than an Engineer. Paula is taking it personally.

“So, you’re back. How long will you be gracing us with your presence this time?”

“I’m here indefinitely,” Kivi answers.

Paula scoffs. “I’ll believe it when I see it.”

“I’m sure you’ll retire before me, so you won’t be seeing it.”

Paula scowls now. “If we’re still working on the same team as my retirement approaches, promise to shoot me in the head.”

“That’s not my job. All I would be able to do is help Corolla shoot you.”

Paula tries to hold back her laughter, but she can’t help it. She knows that Kivi didn’t join the team to throw her weight around. Beyond the Leader and Lieutenant, no one generally gives commands. It really only happens in an emergency situation, when the two leaders aren’t around, and somebody has to make a decision. It makes it easier and safer to always know who that person will be without any argument. Paula needs to learn how to be an engineer, and Kivi needs to learn how to spot.

“Look, this is all new to me, but I’m committed now. I don’t wanna be anywhere but here. There’s some bad people out there, and some missing people too, and I think our new directive can do some real good in this world. Don’t you agree?”

Paula sighs. “I do. It is nice to know that we have a clear goal in mind. One of the most frustrating things about being on a tack team is you never know why you’re being sent off on missions. Now we know what we’re trying to accomplish, and I hope you know that I do appreciate that you bring that to our table in a way that no one else can.”

Kivi tugs on her shirt, and slams her locker shut. “I appreciate you saying that,” she says with a smile. She turns to head for the stall before the morning briefing, but that smile turns quickly into a frown. She’s struggling with this whole thing—not the decision—but the baggage, and the lack of honesty, she comes into every government room with. This seems right. This feels right. This must be where she belongs. But when she was born a few months ago, this job would not have been on her list of future pursuits, so it feels strange at the same time. She may be experiencing impostor syndrome. Her apparent psychic abilities give her the edge that she will need to be a great Spotter, but her lack of true experience—in anything—might sow doubt in her heart every day, and that could become debilitating.

Tactician Hartwin Seegers comes into the locker room, a hand over his eyes. “The briefing is starting early. There’s been an attack. This is an all-hands-on-deck situation.”

The Advancement of Mateo Matic: October 31, 2398

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They’re moving. They’re moving out of the lofts, and not just for their residential needs, but also for Ramses and Leona’s lab. This building was built to last, but it doesn’t belong to them anymore. They’re giving the whole thing to the new owners of Angela’s company to do with it what they will. Maybe they’ll expand, or rent out the upper floors. Or perhaps they’ll demolish the whole thing and replace it with a mini waterpark. Whatever they choose, it will have nothing to do with Team Matic. They should have known that something like this was going to happen. Their whole thing is an ephemeral, nomadic lifestyle. They don’t stay anywhere for too long. Best to not get attached.

A moving company is allowed to handle some of the generic equipment, like tables and beakers. The sensitive materials, however, must be done in house. Ramses is here today, directing Mateo and Alyssa on this task. They’re not in any sort of rush, though. The government-run lab where this will all be moving to is not quite ready for them. Well, the space itself is reportedly totally ready. Winona claims that they keep such future-use places primed in the event of an pandemic, or some other emergency need. That’s what’s holding up the opening process. They have to secure approval from about seven different departments to use one of them, because another emergency venue will have to be developed to replace it.

Mateo holds up a computer monitor stand. “This?”

“Green box, storage” Ramses responds.

“And this?”

“Also green box.”

“Should we really be trusting these people?” Alyssa questions. “I mean, consider everything that you did to make sure this place was yours, and not even the agency that gave it to you had access to it. All these lava lamps and security cameras. Now you’re just going to work in a place built by them, for them?”

“Yeah, I can see how strange that seems,” Ramses admits. “Past!Me probably wouldn’t understand, but things have changed. Our relationship with the government has changed.” They have already given them tons of data and technology so far that they never would have dreamed to do for any government in the main sequence. Trying to keep whatever’s left a secret seems futile at this point. A better facility is more important. “I would rather have unfettered access to an advanced mass spectrometer, and an MRI machine, than my own place. It’s time to grow the operation. I have a lot of things I want to do, and this new place gets me all that. Plus, I think it makes them happy, and we need to keep them on our side.”

Alyssa rubs a lava lamp like a genie might come out of it. “But I love these. I’ve grown accustomed to staring at them during my parking lot surveillance shifts.”

“Blue box,” Ramses says. “We’re taking them with us, not just for storage.”

“You will have some privacy, though, won’t you?” Mateo asks.

“Yes, that is the very first project on my list. They may think they’ll have free and full access to my work, but with the right resources, I can protect anything that we feel they don’t need to know about.”

“What resources will you need for that, and how will you be accomplishing it?”

“I need a submarine. We’re retrieving the AOC from the bottom of the ocean.”

The Advancement of Mateo Matic: October 30, 2398

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Vearden pulls up to the house, and turtles his head to look through the windshield. Arcadia fell asleep, even on this short drive. The internet says that it’s not necessarily a symptom of pregnancy, especially not this early. She’s probably just stressed, which is a symptom of pregnancy. “We’re here,” he whispers.

Arcadia opens her eyes. “Did I miss it?”

“No,” he laughs. “I think the agent is just pulling up behind us.”

As the SUV is parking behind them, Vearden gets out, and opens the door for his...his whatever—they’ve not come up with a word for it yet. “Hello, you must be Radha.” He offers his hand.

Radha shakes it. “And you’re...Varden?”

“Vearden,” he corrects.

“Nice to meet you. And you...Leona Matic?”

“I’m not Leona,” Arcadia says. “I’m her twin sister, Arcadia.”

“Forgive me,” Radha says politely.

“I need a new body,” Arcadia says to Vearden out of the corner of her mouth as they’re heading for the doorway.”

“I don’t see how the baby would transfer,” Vearden replies in the same way.

Radha unlocks the door. “Four bedrooms, two and a half baths. The master suite has a jacuzzi, and a walk-in closet, plus this cute little reading nook that I think you’re going to adore. The kitchen has recently been remodeled, as the previous owners were both professional caterers. They’re moving because their business got too big for it, but it should be perfect for a growing family. I assume you’re not far along.”

“Do I already have a bump?” Arcadia questions.

“Oh, heavens, no,” Radha says apologetically. “Your husband asked me to look for a good school district.”

“Oh, we’re not married.”

“Forgive me,” she repeats. “I was under the impression that you were Kalialists.” That must be a religion that doesn’t allow extramarital sex, or maybe just not pregnancy.

Arcadia has already looked into this. “We are Berarians.” As far as she can tell, it’s the least involved religion of them all. It’s not atheism, but they don’t really care about the nature of the almighty, or what the meaning of life is. It respects the rule of law more than some faiths. It recommends its members try not to bother others.

“I see. Well, here’s the open concept living room, breakfast dining area, and the kitchen that I was telling you about. That door in the corner by the bookcases leads to what I believe the original owners intended to use as a panic room. But then they moved, and the caterers came in, who never had it finished either. You can use it as a storage space, I suppose.”

Or they could use it as a panic room. “Oh, I would like to see that,” Vearden says.

Radha continues to show them through the house. It’s a nice place. On the outside, it doesn’t really look like something they would want, but that panic room almost sounds like fate. They’re trying to stay out of trouble, but it seems to find them, and that would be a nice thing to fall back on since Arcadia doesn’t have any powers, and because of the baby. They’ll consider making an offer.