The Edge: Enticement (Part IV)

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Leona and Aldona were talking about nothing and everything in Leona’s bed last light, and ended up falling asleep next to each other. They still didn’t know how they were going to get out of this star system, and back to where they wanted to be. Leona needed to return to her life, of course, and Aldona had more work to do for the Third Rail and Fourth Quadrant Earths. Would anyone let them actually go do those things, though? There was a knock on the door, but the person on the other side of it didn’t bother waiting for someone to answer. Ishida Caldwell walked in. “Hey,” she said in a very soft voice, like a mother to a child with the cold.

“We’re not going to be at the meeting.”

“Don’t ask us why, because you’re not going to like the answer,” Aldona added.

“I know why you’re not going to be there,” Ishida replied, “because you don’t wanna. If you don’t want to help, there’s no reason for you to be on this space station.”

“I thought that this was the only place that could protect us from the Reconvergence,” Aldona recalled.

Ishida shook her head. “There are a few others; namely Dardius, and Durus.”

“I don’t think they call it Durus anymore,” Leona divulged.

“Whatever.”

“Does that mean we can leave?” Aldona asked.

“Yes.”

“Can anyone give us a ride?” Leona asked.

“Let me show you something first. Get dressed.” Ishida left and closed the door behind her, but it felt like she was just waiting for them out in the hall.

They were both already wearing clothes, but from yesterday, so Leona let Aldona borrow an outfit. They scarfed down a meal bar each, cleaned their teeth with a couple of mouthbombs, and left too.

Ishida took them by the hands, and teleported away. They were now in Team Keshida’s new masterpiece ship, the Jameela Jamil, which wasn’t super new anymore. It was the single most advanced vessel in the galaxy, besides maybe the Matrioshka Body, which let’s just say, didn’t really count. Aldona was immediately smitten with its sleek curves, its absolutely cleanliness, and its perfect lighting balance. She had obviously never seen it before, even in the future, her past.

“Yeah, this is really nice,” Leona determined.

“This isn’t what I wanted to show you,” Ishida clarified. She started leading them down the corridor. “As you know, the JJ exemplifies the four pillars of spaceflight. Safety, Compartmentalization, Redundancy...” She paused while she slowly opened the last door, “and Modularization.”

They were in a shuttle bay, except fit for much larger vessels. Three were docked here at the moment, but there were spots for many more. “This is the Cleopatra. Next to it is the Ava, and that one down there...is the Phoenix.”

Aldona smiled. “I’m sensing a pattern.”

“Yes.”

“Where’s the Tahani?”

“It’s out with its new crew. Or should I say, they are out with their new crews,” Ishida began cryptically. “Quantum duplication is difficult to pull off. It takes a lot of energy, and what we’ve found is that the larger the object—or rather, the more massive—the likelier the duplicate is to come with issues. So we decided that the Reconvergence is an opportunity. We sent the vessels away from Altair in order to give them a fifty-fifty shot of sticking around. One duplicate will go to the Sixth Key, and the other version will stay here. The Sixth Key crews will go on missions in that universe, away from the guidance of the mothership. We’ll reconvene with the copies that stayed in this universe at a later date.”

“Interesting. But what does that have to do with us?” Leona asked.

“We kept these three here for their own reasons,” Ishida said. “The Phoenix is what concerns you, Mrs. Matic. Atterberry pods, Ubiña pockets, state-of-the-art molecular synthesizers, internal teleportation, lander beaming technology, more sensors than you could ever imagine, protective teleportation hull field, advanced holographic illusioning, and much more. Oh, and a true faster-than-light drive. Plus, the shuttle bay has enough room for two standard shuttles, and one...Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez sized ship of your choosing. All this could be yours for the low, low price of...”

Leona closed her eyes, finally understanding what was happening here. “Attending the meeting,” she finished. “This is a bribe.”

“This is an ultimatum,” Ishida contended. “Come to the meeting, do your job, get the ship. It’s simple. We’re not asking you to make any particular decision at the meeting; only to contribute. Your attendance is mandatory, as is yours, Aldona.”

“If it’s mandatory, you wouldn’t need a bribe,” Aldona reasoned. “You could just force us to be there.”

“We can do that too, but we wanted to incentivize you instead.”

“It looks and sounds nice,” Leona started, “but the AOC is safe and sound where we parked it in the Fifth Division. We’ll get it back.”

“That’s cool, but you need something more,” Ishida said. “The universe is changing. The AOC was an amazing piece of technology two hundred years ago, but this is the 25th century, and regardless of how the meeting ends up, you’ll need to be in a position of power for anyone to take you seriously. But like I said, your original vessel has a place, which is why you’re getting that one, and Aldona is getting the Ava.”

“That one?” Aldona asked, pointing. “What am I expected to do with it?”

“Go back home. Stop the war. It’s got its own special toys. What it doesn’t have is what the Phoenix does, which is why we chose that particular name for it.”

“What, does it turn into a bird?” Leona questioned.

“It can’t be destroyed,” Ishida started to explain. She reached into her back pocket, and pulled out something Leona had seen before, but it was not in great shape. “This is the little gadget that Ramses used to generate recovery states of the AOC. I borrowed it from a museum in the future. Don’t worry, it’s completely inoperable, but it’s a genius idea, and we drew from it. You see, the Reconvergence has already happened, and the Phoenix was in the center of it. It was secretly buried underneath Stonehenge in the main sequence when your husband copied the entire reality. It was imbued with the power to recover from anything, and rise from the ashes to fly again. It can survive anything...as long as the blackbox in the center of it remains undamaged. Obviously that’s why it is in the center. I’ll show you how to work it. I’ll show you everything if you agree to our terms.”

“I’m curious,” Aldona began while Leona was considering the offer, and unable to speak herself. “What’s the special purpose of the Cleopatra?”

“Oh, that’s my personal ship, which is why it’s still here. Kestral and I don’t want ourselves to be duplicated, but she did want her personal ship, the Eris, to be copied, so it’s off on its own in the middle of interstellar space. She didn’t explain why.”

“This is a nice offer,” Leona said, “but what I’m curious about is if you think I won’t be able to refuse it.”

“This isn’t a trick, Leona. This is our last attempt to persuade you. I’ve just received word that Ramses is fine. He survived what happened to him when he stepped through the untailored portal. You’ll see him again. So there is no reason for you to be mad at us anymore. All you have to decide is if you’re over your exhaustion, or if you’re satisfied flying the AOC off to a remote star system somewhere to live our your days with no more adventures or intrigue. What would the real AOC do?”

She was right. Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez was a relentless fighter. Leona would feel bad about abandoning the ship they had used for so long, if only because of its namesake, so keeping it somewhere on the Phoenix would be a decent compromise. As far as spaceship names go, it’s not original, but surely there’s room for one more. It’s a great name, and if what Ishida says is true, it’s really the only one that fits. She’s not excited for what she has to do to get it, but she wants this ship. She really does.

“Well?” Ishida asked. “How about it?”

Aldona frowned at Leona. “I’m taking the deal. I have to.”

“I understand,” Leona replied. “I’m taking it too. I’ll be there tomorrow.”

Ishida grimaced. “That’s the thing. Errr, that’s the other thing. The meeting starts today.” She glanced at her watch. “It starts in half an hour.”

“Why did it change?”

“If you had stayed through the whole introduction presentation, you would know why.” That was uncharacteristically sassy of Ishida.

“Well...” Leona was going to clap back, but decided against it. “Can you teleport us back to my room, so we can get ready?”

“Everything you need is in your new ships,” Ishida suggested.

“Better not,” Leona decided. “I would just get distracted in there.”

“Same here,” Aldona agreed.

Ishida obliged them, but took Aldona to her own room, so they didn’t have to share a space. It was two minutes to the starting time, and Leona still hadn’t left yet. She bolted out the door, and prepared to run all the way when she noticed Pribadium Delgado leaning coolly against the wall. “I thought you might be running late.”

“Pribadium, I—”

“Don’t apologize, or I’ll feel like I have to too. Let’s just move on.”

“Okay.” Leona nodded, and stuck her tail between her legs. She took Pribadium’s hand when it was offered, and they jumped back to Lylla Hall. A couple of ushers opened the double doors for them, as well as Aldona and Ishida, who had arrived at about the same time. Everyone looked back at Leona again, but her tail couldn’t get more tucked than it already was. “Hi, sorry. I’m feeling much better now.”

They climbed on stage with the others, and the meeting began.

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Microstory 1925: Apostle’s Virtue

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National Commander Apostle Virtue: Not that I don’t enjoy our in-person visits, Director, but what do you have to say that could not be said over secure video chat?

OSI Director: Is that a new uniform? It looks nice, Commander. There’s an update on the alien situation. Remember how I told you we made contact with the human traveler?

Apostle: I recall, the supposed parole officer?

OSI Director: We let him interview the creature, and I believe that we have an opportunity here. I came in person, because we have a short window to act, and I don’t need chatlag getting in the way of me getting my point across.

Apostle: You let a civilian—an escaped jail detainee—interrogate another detainee, who also happens to be an alien from another world, and the greatest, most dangerous, discovery that this country—this planet—has ever made?

OSI Director: Yes, and I’d do it again, because he actually got through to it. We were right, it does speak. It knows a lot, it’s just stubborn.

Apostle: Well, what did it say?

OSI Director: It knows things about the P.O.’s future, and the P.O. was not surprised or confused about that. I think they experience time differently than we do.

Apostle: What’s this opportunity then?

OSI Director: It asked to be set free. No, it asked him to break it out. There’s more it could tell, but it won’t say anything further while it’s locked up.

Apostle: Reasonable response. I would probably say that too if I were in its position. That doesn’t mean we can release it.

OSI Director: I think we should. We could stage a fake escape. We already implanted the tracker in its arm, so we’ll always know where it is. Plus, we can place a tracker or two on the human, and a listening device. We can stay on them, no problem. My worst investigative team could pull it off.

Apostle: You have bad investigative teams?

OSI Director: Sir—

Apostle: No, Director, you’re having trouble understanding the gravity of the situation here. We are this close to getting military aid from Australia against Russia. I can’t make one misstep here. I can elevate our status on the international stage, but only if I play my cards right. It’s not poker; it’s a strategy card game. Because it’s not just about holding the right cards, but about you playing the right cards at the right time to get ahead. This alien is going to get us out of our hundred year slump, but not if it’s discovered by some village idiot in some rando town while it’s on the run from the government. We have to make the announcement. We have to control the narrative.

OSI Director: We still can. The alien doesn’t know what our world is like. We can control its environment. All we have to do is make the human feel like he’s one of us.

Apostle: This is a big risk. If it looked human enough, I would be more comfortable. Of course, that would make it less dramatic when we reveal its existence to the world...

OSI Director: I have an idea about that.

Apostle: Go ahead, soldier.

OSI Director: Its wings make it stand out the most, right? So let’s get rid of ‘em.

Microstory 1924: Blinking Yellow

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Leonard: Hello. My name is Leonard. How’re you doin’? Need anything? They tell me you don’t drink water. You look a little desiccated. Sorry, that’s my big mouth. Let me just find the button on this remote. There. Now you can see that no one is watching us through the mirror. Then I’ll reach up here to shut this off too. Just so you know, in this universe, when the little slowly blinking light is yellow, that means the camera is on. When it’s solid red, power is running through it, but it’s neither streaming nor recording. That’s how they do things here. I’m not sure if you can relate. Do Ochivari have camera technology? Oh, I saw a little reaction there. You didn’t think I had heard of you, eh? You figured that as long as you stayed quiet—which is probably part of your training—they wouldn’t be able to get any information out of you. It’s a fair assessment. I’m assuming it’s not just that you don’t speak our language. Nah, your reaction tells me you understand me. Honestly, I think you lucked out that these people have profoundly strong anti-torture laws. Don’t you find that fascinating? I find it fascinating. Where I’m from, they passed anti-torture legislation too, but you can get away with it if you’re sneaky. If you get caught, you may go to prison, at worst. Here, you’re subjected to the exact same torture that you inflicted on others, compounded by the number of victims. They don’t think it’s worth it, so that’s why you’re fine. Funny how they extend it to aliens, though, right? Seems like that’s a whole other animal. Then again, they probably have anti-animal abuse laws too, and that’s really all you are. You see, the difference between a human and an animal is that a human can communicate with other intelligent beings at a higher level. We can ask for help, and we can provide help, and we can beg for mercy. You’ve not asked for anything. You’ve not said anything at all. They think you’re just an animal. What do you think of that? Any reaction whatsoever?

Ochivar: *says nothing*

Leonard: Hm. I can see that my predecessors have already attempted to torment you with words. That doesn’t count as torture, by the way. They have zero laws regulating mental and emotional abuse. Where I come from, you can get in serious trouble for that, but the way they figure it here, you should either be strong enough to handle anyone’s harsh words, or you should use such experiences to harden yourself against them, which is why they don’t even feel compelled to protect children from it. How does that make you feel? Do you care for your offspring? How do Ochivari procreate? Do you just spit into a giant cauldron together, and then mix it up until a litter of monsters solidify?

Ochivar: Stop! Stop! Dear Limerick, end my suffering.

Leonard: What’s a Limerick? Is that your god?

Ochivar: What is your second name?

Leonard: *pauses* Miazga.

Ochivar: Leonard Miazga of Universe Unlabeled. I’ve heard of you. Am I seeing your origins? This is the first time you traveled the bulk, isn’t it? Wow. What an honor.

Leonard: You could be making this up. You’re not saying anything that proves you know the first damn thing about who I am.

Ochivar: *leaning forward* Get me the hell out of here, and I’ll give you some proof.

Leonard: *leaning forward too* Now you’re speakin’ my language.

Microstory 1923: Lying Liars Lying

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OSI Director: Agent Parsons, Parole Officer Miazga. It’s nice to meet you both. Please, have a seat anywhere. Special Investigator, would you go get us some water?

Special Investigator: Right away.

Leonard: Thanks for having me. And you can just call me Leonard, or even Leo.

Agent Parsons: It’s an honor, sir.

OSI Director: I’ll start with you, Agent. Tell me about yourself. How did you get into fugitive recovery?

Agent Parsons: Well, sir, I wish I could tell you some interesting story about meeting an agent when I was nine, or that my father’s father’s father’s father worked in Fugitive Services. The truth is that I didn’t know what I wanted to specialize in when I signed up for the academy. So I did a full internship rotation, and ended up liking this the most. I’ve actually not been doing it for very long, though you might have assumed by my age. I spent quite a bit of time gaining experience from all facets of law enforcement.

OSI Director: That’s interesting. And you, Mr. Miazga? How did you become a P.O.?

Leonard: I was kind of a legacy. My parents both worked on the parole board for a nearby prison. That’s what they wanted me to do too, but honestly, I didn’t like the idea of sitting behind a table day in, day out. Maybe a third of people are given a second chance while the other two-thirds go back inside. I wanted one hundred percent of the people I worked with to be free.

OSI Director: That’s a fascinating perspective. I can respect that.

Special Investigator: *clears his throat* Um, pardon. Do you want lemon?

OSI Director: No, thank you.

Special Investigator: Lemon? Lemon?

Agent Parsons: I’m all right.

OSI Director: Tell me, Mr. Miazga, what makes you believe that you can get the creature that we’ve captured to finally speak?

Leonard: It’s alone. In order to advance to the level a species like that, or like ourselves, are, they have to value a sense of cooperation. How long have you had it? Six months? I’ve seen enough prisoners to know that everyone breaks. It takes longer for some than for others, but it will always happen, and in my line of business, that’s a good thing. I know that sounds heartless, but if you’ve done something bad enough to end up in a cell, the only way you’re gonna get out is if you admit the justice that put you in there. You may still be angry, and you may be unwilling to change, but the first step is admitting the logic in the outcome. Like I said, we all have our own breaking points, and if it hasn’t reached its point yet, we have to force it, and that may mean changing strategies. That’s all I am for you; a shift in strategy.

OSI Director: *nodding* I can accept this rationale. That’s all I needed to hear. If you’ll excuse me, I must return to my office to make a call.

Agent Parsons: You lied to her about your background. Did you forget that you already told me the truth about your career history?

Leonard: I was just just following your lead. Did you think that I wouldn’t notice your lie? It was my job to spot liars.

Microstory 1922: The Director’s Direction

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Director for the Office of Special Investigations: Who is this man, Special Investigator? What does he want?

Special Investigator: He’s from another universe, like the creature we’ve captured.

OSI Director: And did he tell you that?

Special Investigator: I know what you’re getting at, but we believe him. His first appearance matches that of the alien.

OSI Director: I’m not doubting that the two events are related, but you can’t go on his word simply because he claims to be a member of law enforcement where he’s from, or because he’s telling a really good story. I can’t authorize a random civilian whose identity we cannot verify to interrogate a prisoner on our behalf. We don’t know anything about either of them. They could be working together. The creature could have been sent to stop the human, who is actually a world-killer bent on destroying us. We are in uncharted territory here, and your trust in him is not reassuring. You were given this assignment months ago, and you’ve still not come up with any solid answers. That could make anyone desperate for results, be they accurate or not.

Special Investigator: You’re right, sir. I don’t know if he’s lying, but it’s as he explained it—and like you said just now—we’ve been working on this for so long with all but nothing to show for it. So far, all we’ve been able to determine is that its wings allow it to float in the air a little bit, but not fly over long distances. Something has to change. It may be a bad idea to let those two be in the same room together. I can’t honestly promise that it won’t end up being the downfall of the world. But the same is true for anything. A humanitarian visitor to a wartorn developing country could accidentally sneeze too close to the dictator, spark World War II, and decimate the human population in ten years. Life is not without risk, but without effort, it’s not anything at all. If you just want to play it safe, then I say we cut off the alien’s head, and study it through an autopsy. But if you do that, I guarantee you that you’ll never hear it speak.

OSI Director: There are those who are not only willing to accept that outcome, but are actively hoping for it. They say it would be the safest route.

Special Investigator: *shaking his head* That may teach us whether those two organs in its back are kidneys, or something else. It will not tell us whether it’s here to kill us, or if more are coming. You pushed for a non-violent start to this investigation, and you got a lot of pushback for it, but I backed you, because I believe in this course of action, and I still do. That man downstairs can help us. Let him try. It could be disastrous, or it could lead to a breakthrough. This is the greatest discovery in human history. If they can travel between universes, maybe we can too. Think how the U.S. could benefit from such tech.

OSI Director: This is beyond against protocol. I admit, however, that your idea to treat him as a spy is an intriguing workaround to the paperwork parameters.

Special Investigator: It wasn’t mine. It was Agent Parsons’.

OSI Director: Then perhaps I should speak with Agent Parsons first, and also this so-called parole officer from another Earth.

Special Investigator: I think that would be a fine idea.

OSI Director: Make it happen.

Microstory 1921: Bureaucratic Protocol

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Special Investigator: Thank you for agreeing to come in, Mr. Miazga.

Leonard: I wanna see it.

Special Investigator: There will be time to se the Ochivar—

Leonard: We don’t know that. We may be operating on a tight deadline here. This creature and I have something in common; something that it does not share with you, or with him. I don’t know how the Ochivari developed, or why they go around destroying entire populations, but I know that they’re a curious species.

Agent Parsons: How do you know that? Nothing about its behavior thus far implies any strong feelings regarding anything.

Leonard: I know that its curious, at least it’s genetically probable, because it has to be. Any species that evolves intelligence will lose that character trait if they do not also evolve the tendency to exercise that intelligence to gain knowledge. It obviously learned a great deal about the way the multiverse works, or it would not be here, and even if its arrival were an accident, its people’s history suggests its motivations to be driven by higher-level thinking, rather than simply base instinct.

Special Investigator: I see.

Leonard: Basically, it’s smart, social, and alone right now. It will feel an urge to connect with me, even if it’s only as an enemy. Which is fine, because at the moment, you’re really just trying to get it to communicate, aren’t you?

Special Investigator: That is an accurate assessment.

Leonard: I’ll get it to talk. I can’t guarantee what it will talk about, or whether its responses will ultimately prove fruitful, but it will be a start.

Agent Parsons: Do you have experience in interrogation, though? Our parole officers are mainly here to keep track of the...freemen, and report their movements.

Leonard: Well, I wasn’t always a parole officer. I came up after a brief stint in the military before I was injured. Then I joined the police as a regular officer before becoming disillusioned with its inefficacy. After befriending a social worker, we came to the conclusion that I would be better off avoiding crime scenes. But I was required to study all aspects of law enforcement before that, including interview techniques.

Agent Parsons: Special Investigator? What do you think?

Special Investigator: You make a compelling case, parole officer Miazga. I’m inclined to let you in that room, but it will not be as easy as the three of us taking the stairs down to that level, and opening a door. There is a protocol here, involving an interview with you on the other side of the table, a not insignificant amount of paperwork, and...

Leonard: And what?

Agent Parsons: Oh. And a background check, I would imagine.

Special Investigator: Yes. We are as bureaucratic as any other government entity. I’m not entirely sure how we’re going to handle your situation. Records must be filed.

Agent Parsons: Treat him as a spy. Spies don’t have real identities. Surely you have a form you can fill out that just gets us by without worrying about verifying any data.

Special Investigator: Yes, that’s a good idea, Agent Parsons. Wait here, I’ll go procure what we need to expedite the process.

The Advancement of Mateo Matic: April 11, 2402

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With Danica gone, the only logical place to seek help from someone in the time traveler underground was at the Salmon Civic Center in Kansas City. The place was deserted when they teleported there yesterday. It didn’t look like anything had gone wrong, more like everyone who worked there just happened to call out sick on the same day. They tried to go to the Great Pyramid of Giza too, but there was no one there either, though that wasn’t surprising, because as important as it was, it wasn’t known for its hubbub. No one could think of any other options for a while until Marie remembered something. “Let’s just reach out to the Delegator.”

“Ah, that guy’s never helpful,” Mateo whined.

“We have to connect to somebody,” Angela contended. “He may not be able to help, but he may know where everyone else is. This is just meant to be a start.”

Mateo sighed as he was stepping over to the industrial synthesizer, which they requested in their unit. “Hey Thistle, build me two sets of Jenga playing blocks please.”

Once the machine was done, they arranged the blocks in the formation of Stonehenge, then Mateo laid the final stone, and uttered the magic words. Nothing happened. Well, not nothing, exactly. They could feel a tug on their skin. The Stonehenge dimension was trying to reach them, but was unable to, for some reason.

“Ugh, I guess we’ll just play a game,” Marie suggested, shaking her head.

“No, there’s one other option at least,” Mateo said. “I didn’t offer it before, not because it would be a worse option, but because it may take some time for me to remember the code. Stonehenge isn’t the easiest thing to build a replica of, but there are tons of photos for reference. This one can only come from memory.”

It took so long for Mateo to remember the special knock that it was early morning the next year. Baudin Murdoch opened the door. “Mister Matic. How long has it been?”

“Hard to tell. Are you the only one left?” Mateo asked.

“Yeah, everyone else is at the meeting.”

“The Edge meeting?” Angela questioned. “I thought that was just for The Shortlist.”

Baudin shook his head. “No, it’s for anyone who didn’t want to end up with a duplicate in another universe.”

“That doesn’t describe you?” Marie asked.

Baudin shrugged. “Not many can do what I do. The way I see it, this new universe is better off with access to my power without the OG salmonverse being S-O-L at the same time. Anyway, come on in, come on in. Let’s have a seat in the lobby.”

They stepped into his office building. The girls had never been here before, so they looked around. “Do we have duplicates?”

Baudin shrugged again. “I don’t know. I suppose so, though.”

“We were led to believe that we were not allowed to attend the meeting.”

“Maybe that’s really where they all are,” Baudin began. “The way I understand it, the entire planet they’re on was protected from that whole thing. I didn’t read the fine print, because I made my decision quite quick.”

Mateo nodded, but needed to readjust the topic of conversation “We need help. Our friend is missing. She’s somewhere in the Sixth Key, but we don’t know where to start, and we don’t have a ship, or know anyone who might be able to get us one. We don’t know where all the other Earths are either, in relation to this one.”

“Did you speak with Stargazer?” Baudin asked.

“We went to the Pyramid, but he wasn’t there. And I only know that because no one was there. We’ve never actually met. Paige told me about him.”

“He’s mapping the new universe,” Baudin said. “I figured he’d stay there, but maybe he needed access to other telescopes, which are all basically doing the same thing. With all the time travelers gone, there’s no one left to help them understand what’s happening. Perhaps that’s why you weren’t invited to the meeting; so that you can do that.” He studied their faces, which were making it clear that they were uninterested in the responsibility. “All right. In that case, I’ll reach out to him for you.” He went behind the reception desk, and started digging through the cabinets and drawers. Finally, he found the remote control, which he used to bring down a screen behind them. They moved so they could get a better look while Baudin turned the projector on too. Using a tablet, he searched for what he was looking for, and then he picked up a microphone.

“Are you going to sing?”

“I’m going to sing,” Baudin answered. “No judgments please. I don’t have to sing well. I just have to sing passionately.” He prepared himself mentally for a moment, and then he switched on the music. “There once was a season of infinite light // When the distance from heaven was not far behind // I was close to You // I was close to You!” He continued the karaoke song, which was evidently called Constellations by Ellie Holcomb. He sang the whole thing, and he did so with the passion he promised, and he actually had a pretty nice voice. “Never alone // Never alone!” When he sang the final line, “out here in the dark” a real darkness consumed them all.

Seconds letter, pinpricks of glory began to appear above them. They formed the shape of a human heart, and once this shape was complete, they fell together from the ceiling, into a three dimensional human silhouette. From this, a man appeared. It must have been Stargazer. “I miss that feeling,” he said as the last of the light dripped from his skin, and faded on the floor like liquid sparks. It seemed to be a pleasant experience. “No one ever calls me anymore. Thank you for the opportunity.”

“Hello, Stargazer. My name is—”

“Mateo Matic. I’ve met a version of you.”

“I see. We were hoping that you could help us. It would seem that the main sequence planets do not possess many time travelers, but if you’re one of them, perhaps you can find a friend of ours? Her name is Olimpia Sangster.”

Stargazer nodded slowly. “Is she a friend?”

“Of course,” Mateo insisted.

Stargazer looked over at Baudin, who nodded. “If he says so, it is so.”

“I have heard the echoes,” Stargazer said as he was staring up at the ceiling. He waved his arm above his face, and transformed it back to the night sky, but this time with more than just the one constellation. “My name is Olimpia Sangster, and I have a normal voice,” he recited. “A fool who refuses to follow their superior only proves why they are the fool, and why their superior is the leader,” he added. “Olimpia Sangster, circa 2371.”

“Those are quotes from her. Where did you hear those?” Angela was nervous.

“She says other things,” Stargazer replied cryptically, “but those are the only times she mentions herself by name.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Well, she does say O-L-I at one point. I assume she was having to spell it for someone. I don’t know why she stopped in the middle.”

“Explain. Where are you hearing these lines?”

Stargazer looked up with his eyes, and pointed with his whole hand. “The stars. The stars are echoing her words. You can’t hear them?”

“No. We can’t...hear stars. Why are they talking about her?”

Stargazer was confused. “Because she made them. She made half the universe. Someone else made the other half.”

“What the hell do you mean, she made the universe?”

“Just what it literally sounds like.”

“Have you...seen her?” Marie asked him.

Stargazer shook his head. “She only speaks. She speaks from everywhere.”

Ramses suddenly appeared out of nowhere, holding Mateo’s once-rosary again. “Oh, hey. You’re here too? I just left you at your apartment, like, a second ago.”

“That was yesterday,” Mateo told him. “What are you doing? Where is Olimpia?”

“I need him.” Ramses gestured towards Baudin. “It starts and ends with the Superscraper.”

“Hm.” Bauden had never heard the term, but he was intrigued. “Tell me more.” He reached out to Ramses.

“Wait. Where. Is. Olimpia?” Mateo repeated urgently.

“Go to Violkomin.”

“What? Tell us what that is!” Angela pleaded, but it was too late. They were both gone. “Have you heard of this Volkomen place?” she asked Stargazer, mostly because he was the only one left with any answers.

“It’s the edge of the barrier between the two halves of the universe. The stars speak of it as well, but I can’t find it. I will one day”

“Grrr,” Mateo growls. “Then we need to go to the Superscraper. Hopefully we can catch Ramses a third time. Would you be able to take us to the Third Rail Earth?”

“That I can do.” Stargazer raised his arms, bathing them in light. When it receded, they were in the lobby of Leona’s Superscraper in the Nation of Arvazna.

A woman stepped out from behind the reception desk, which Mateo now realized looked a lot like the one in Baudin’s office. This whole building screamed Murdoch architecture, now that he thought about it. Baudin did build it. That made perfect sense. “Hello,” she said politely. “Welcome to Arvazna. Do you need to go through intake?”

“We’re pros,” Mateo replied. “We were looking for our friend, Olimpia. Or Ramses. Have you heard of them?”

“I’m sorry, I’ve not. Are they two of the New Arvaznians?”

“No, I...Alyssa!” Mateo could see her across the way. “Alyssa, there you are!”

“Mateo, you’re back!” She teleported the twenty-five meters to them. “Sorry I had to cut out a couple years ago. As you can see, I had a lot of other work to attend to.”

“You run this place?” Angela asked.

“Mhmm, I do. Someone’s got to help these people with their new powers, patterns, and afflictions.”

“Have you seen Ramses around here?” Marie asked, not caring about that.

“No. Why would he be here? He’s dead, isn’t he?”

“No.”

“Well, sorry.”

“Well, he built this building. I mean, he commissioned the man who built it, Baudin Murdoch.”

“Oh. Well that explains why the auditorium is called Murdoch Hall. I assume he went back in time to do it in secret?”

“Yes.”

“You work here? This place is yours?” Angela asked again, just in a slightly, but not any more helpful, way.

“Yes, I told you that, Ange. Are you okay?”

“You were supposed to be one of us. They know you from the past...the future...whatever. You can’t work here.”

“I’m not going anywhere, Angela. I can’t. This is my responsibility. Even if you stayed to help, I wouldn’t leave. These people need me. The normies are coming after us. We have to protect ourselves.”

“But...fate,” Angela pressed.

“It’s okay,” Mateo assured her. “It’s not meant to be.”

“No, she’s part of the team,” Angela argued. “We need her. We need all the power we can get. We need to find Olimpia, and no one else is left. They all abandoned the main sequence for the other main sequence.”

“I guess we changed things,” Mateo said sadly. “For Alyssa. For all of us.” Everything they knew about the timeline was up in the air. Maybe she was meant to join them on their future adventures, and maybe things will worsen because she chose another path, but they were not in the business of coercion, or even guilt-tripping. “It happens. Marie was never meant to exist, but she does, and I wouldn’t go back to put a stop to it. We’ll just have to find her another way.”

Angela scowled, and crossed her arms.

“Have you heard of...what was that again?” Marie asked Stargazer.

“Violkomin,” he helped.

“Yes, that. Have you heard of that world?” Marie went on.

“Yeah,” Alyssa replied. “The Global Council is sending one of Aldona’s diplomatic ships to meet with them.”

“We need to get on that ship,” Mateo decided.

“I can show you where it will be launching from next year,” Alyssa said, “but I can’t get you a seat. I’m sure they’re all full-up. This is a big deal. They’re trying to stop the Reality Wars. Of course, they don’t know specifically about them, but in these couple of years, there has already been a lot of tension. Everyone’s worried, and they’re hoping that the other half of the universe will help.”

“That’s okay,” Mateo said. “We’ll just teleport into a broom closet, or something.”

“Sounds cramped. Allow me to help you make it bigger. Take Moray with you.”

“Your brother? Does he have a power too?”

“Yes, as does Carlin, but it’s Moray you’ll need. Come on out,” she insisted to the aether. “Come out!” She rolled her eyes, and reached behind an invisible wall right next to her. She pulled Moray into view. At least it looked like him. He also looked about twice the age he did when they last saw him.

« < » > Table of Contents

The Edge: Éminence Grises (Part III)

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Leona reluctantly returned to Lylla Hall. The audience looked back at her as she was trying to slink down the aisle. She recognized a lot of these looky-loos, but not everyone. The group sitting with Divina and General Medley were probably all from Teagarden. Coronel Zararias from the Third Rail was in his own section with part of the Mozambican Naval Fleet, which was an interesting development. As she scanned the rest, she started to get the sense that everyone was in their special section, according to reality, and then more precisely to world. They were in assigned seats. Her place was up on stage, where the rest of the Shortlist was waiting. “Sorry I’m late.”

“You’re right on time,” Hokusai Gimura explained. “The rest of us were early.”

Leona walked up the stairs and sat down between Kestral and Weaver, though there was still an empty seat between her and Weaver that was meant for Ramses.

“Welcome,” Ishida whispered over Kestral’s lap.

“Thanks,” she whispered back. She turned to eye Weaver and her alternate self, Holly Blue, who was last seen on her way to another universe to reunite with her son.

Holly Blue smiled, and pointed at the front row. Declan was there with a handful of other kids. “I found him.”

“I’m happy for you,” Leona replied.

“All right,” Hokusai projected, standing up.

“Oh, hold up.” Ellie Underhill trotted in from sidestage, and cupped her hands over Hokusai’s mouth. “Okay, there you go.” It begged the question, if everyone else could be here, why was Leona’s team not allowed to come? It was starting to feel like they were deliberately excluded, but for what reason?

“Thanks, El,” Hokusai said in a normal voice, but the sound replicated around the auditorium for all to hear perfectly. “Hello, all. My name is Hokusai Gimura. I was born in 1985, in the main sequence. I’m a scientist. I’ve made a number of breakthroughs in temporal technology, and I did so without the benefit of time powers of my own. I had to figure it out, and that was dangerous. My friends and I formed this group, not to hoard such technology, but to protect it, and to protect the general population from it, and its risks. We are standing in the year 2400, during what my people refer to as...The Edge. Its properties are hazy, this despite the fact that we’re time travelers, and our ability to know anything is a matter of finding the right moment.

“I can’t tell you how many temporal manipulators there are in the timeline, or even how many of us are not members of the subspecies, but are heavily involved in their affairs. Yes, that’s right; they’re a subspecies, but it’s really complicated. It has more to do with their neurology than their genetics. Most of you know most of this already, but none of you knows everything. None of us knows everything. That’s what this meeting is about. We’re here to get on the same page, with each other, and with you, and to decide the fate of the universe, or at least this particular reality. The meeting will not begin today. It will, in fact, be in two days. We are here in this room to meet, and to greet. Everyone up here...and a couple of others...will introduce themselves. In addition, you have been placed in groups of your own, and we’ll ask you to introduce yourselves as well. No pressure. We’ve never done it like this before; it’s going to be very informal. We all just need to, like I said, get on the same page. I’ll stop here in case anyone has any questions at this time, but only about the schedule?”

A man in the back cleared his throat. Whoever was in charge of lighting shone a spotlight on him. It was Senator Morton. “I was to understand there were eleven of you.”

“Yes, there were. One of us has been...detoured. We all have very busy lives.”

“But you’re time travelers, so that shouldn’t matter,” Morton reasoned.

“Right.”

Leona hung her head. This was her fault. It feels wrong, doing this without Ramses. He made the choice that she wanted to make herself, and she could never thank him enough for it. Even so, there is little reason for him to not be here. Unless his mission went bad. Oh no...the mission went bad.

Hokusai went on, “we will not be discussing any individual lifepaths here. We’re not here to talk about any salmon or choosing one’s specific rules, constraints, patterns, behaviors, choices, or missions. Ramses Abdulrashid cannot be here, and he will never be able to be here. That’s okay, because we never needed a plenum to move forward. We just would have preferred it. But fear not, because there actually are eleven of us. Our final member is simply late...it happens, even in our line of business.” She leaned her head down and whispered something to Pribadium. Not even Leona could hear it, but Pribadium stood and left. Hokusai sighed. “Anything else?”

Someone they didn’t recognize stood up. “Yeah, hi. Captain Waldemar Kristiansen, Eighth of Eight here. I need to get back to my ship. I was told that the amount of time I’m wasting here will be the same amount of time I’ll be missing there. That is unacceptable.”

“I assure you, Captain, the Extremus will be fine without you for a few days.”

“Yeah, but see, you’re not starting the meeting for two days. I don’t understand—”

“Thank you, Captain Kristiansen,” Hokusai said quite dismissively.

He continued to try to speak out, but no one seemed to be able to hear him. That must be Ellie’s doing.

Hokusai went on. “Ah, here we go.” She was looking sidestage.

Pribadium had just come back, and was trying to urge someone else to come forward who was still shrouded in shadow. “Come on. Come on,” she insisted.

Finally, Aldona Calligaris stepped forth, and approached the table. “What am I doing here?” she questioned through gritted teeth.

“You have been invited,” Hokusai said to her, not using Ellie’s projection ability.

“I respectfully decline,” Aldona said.

“Not possible. You’ve proven yourself worthy, so you’re here.”

“All of my work was done in the future in the Sixth Key. It is not relevant—”

“It’s relevant to us. Sit down, please. Ramses’ seat is right there.”

Aldona sighed and plopped down with attitude. Leona took her hand, and squeezed. “Let’s stick together.”

“Okay,” Aldona agreed.

“If there is nothing else, we’ll bring out our guest of honor; our mediator. This is something that the majority of you probably don’t know, our mediator is never a member of the group. We do this intentionally, in order to keep the proceedings fair, and as unbiased as possible, as well as provide us with some insight we may not be able to find in this group of mostly like-minded scientists and researchers. Friends and allies, please welcome this meeting’s mediator, Winona Honeycutt of the Third Rail.”

The audience clapped as Winona came from backstage, and approached her seat in the center of the table. She stood and watched the audience, not smiling, but not frowning, waiting patiently for them to finish paying their respects. “Thank you, Madam Gimura, for the opportunity. And thank you, esteemed guests, for the warm welcome. I am a relative newcomer to the underground. A little bit about me, My father is a lifelong civil servant, who is still in my reality of origin, dealing with our many crises. I’ve worked in the federal government for most of my adult life as well. To be specific, I run—I mean, I ran—a covert operations joint task force that brings together the six major branches of law enforcement for my version of the United States. When temporal manipulation was discovered, I found myself as a...handler of sorts, liaising the time travelers with our corner of the government. I think that’s all I’ll say. Who’s next?”

“I’ll go next,” Hogarth volunteered.

Winona nodded at her, and started to sit down as Hogarth was standing. She then nodded at Leona. She was told that she was an important contributor to the grand mission of the Six Keys and their Keyholders to pull every world in every reality into a new universe, and save them from some mysterious force that would see them destroyed. As it turned out, Winona and the others were merely decoys, so any dissenters would not know the true plan, which was still so secretive, not even Leona knew the truth about it. Apparently, the main sequence was free from having to worry about the Reconvergence, though, which was why this meeting will go on as planned.

The rest of the members of the Shortlist introduced themselves in their own way. Brooke Prieto explained that her temporal specialty was not being able to be manipulated by temporal manipulation. Sharice Prieto talked about her origins as an Unregulated Artificial Intelligence, and Brooke’s daughter. They then continued down the line, letting everyone speak before Leona. It was like they knew that she would not want to say anything, and would rather make it brief. This way, they could argue that they were low on time, and needed to move past introductions anyway once her turn came around, so it wouldn’t be Leona’s fault. At least that was how she reasoned it, trying to give them the benefit of the doubt, rather than it being because of her spite and anger. Though her anger should really have been focused on Pribadium alone, or honestly probably not even exist at all. She was being irrational and emotional.

No, she wasn’t last. That honor would go to Aldona. Leona stood up, and swallowed nervously. Ellie stepped over, and gave her the sonic projection ability. It only took a second, but the audience didn’t know how it worked. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. Go on. It’s okay.”

Ellie nodded, and walked back out of the limelight.

Leona scanned the audience again, not for any particular reason, but because she couldn’t think of anything to say. She wanted to participate, as Pribadium had asked. This was her duty. She was a member of this group, and she needed to help figure this all out. But she didn’t want to. Not anymore. She just didn’t care. They could claim all day that they weren’t elitist; that they were necessary...vital, even. But in the end, they were technology hoarders, and she didn’t want to be a part of it anymore, even if that was supposedly ending. “My name is Leona Matic, and I’m outta here.” She grabbed Aldona’s hand again, and pulled her up. Together, they walked off stage.

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