Extremus: Year 58

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Lilian Diamond’s job in the government is neither glamorous, nor revered. By most, it’s considered unimportant, and even a waste of space and resources. But it actually is important, and it deserves a lot more respect. Extremus is made of metal and metamaterials. For half a moment, the original designers considered going extremely creative, and making it organic, but they decided against that. They didn’t know at the time that the temporal engineer would come up with a way to repair the ship with time traveling shuttles, but even if they had, finding organic material out here in the galaxy would have proven difficult at best. A lot of people who came aboard could remember living on Ansutah, which was—though not lifeless—sparse with flora. It had just about  no fauna besides the humans and the Maramon. The humans survived by farming and harvesting what few edible plants there were. It’s a wonder they survived, but however they did, they seemed to never develop an appreciation for wildlife.

This mentality carried over into this universe, where they lived in gigantic rotating habitats. The majority of such cylinders are planned with plenty of forests and parks. And why shouldn’t they be? The climate can be controlled perfectly. As long as water is handled correctly, there’s never any drought, or hurricanes, or blight. Being in nature is easier in a place like that. But the four cylinders that the Ansutahan humans lived could not afford to waste space on these luxuries. They have to house billions of people in the most efficient way possible. There are rooftop gardens, but most of them have died, because no one tended to them, because they don’t care. This mentality was carried over again to Extremus. Space is dedicated to housing, and food production. The latter is green, but it isn’t beautiful. Once again, it was made to be efficient, and not worthy of visiting. They simply could not have installed anything larger than a small park, which almost no one ever visits. Lilian’s daily responsibilities mostly involve lobbying for more park space, and encouraging residents to visit the one that they have. It is a lot of work for nearly no gain. But what could they do?

“I have an idea,” Tinaya says.

“Let’s hear it,” Lilian replies

Tinaya has been Lilian’s assistant for months now, writing up proposal after proposal, and making sure the park stays alive in this pretty hostile environment. They’re the only two people who work in the park, and it’s almost not worth it. A few people do come; the regulars, they call them. They’re outliers who actually do appreciate green spaces. But they are pretty much the only people this park can accommodate. This is the dilemma that Lilian faces. She wants more people to come enjoy it, but they can’t all do that. Maybe if more people were interested, she would be able to convince her superiors to dedicate more space to greenery, but which comes first, and how does this work? There’s plenty of room on this ship right now, but in 150 years, they’ll be reaching capacity, because they’re supposed to be nearing their destination. “Expansion.”

“Expansion, how?”

“Let’s make the ship bigger. You keep asking for a second park at the edge of the presently uninhabited section, or a few other spots. Have you ever thought about asking to build an entirely new section on the back of the ship?”

“Is that even possible?” Lilian questions.

“Absolutely, it’s possible. Before either of us was even born, a devastating micrometeoroid strike destroyed almost the whole engineering section. They rebuilt it, which means that they could do that again, but instead of a rebuild, it would just be a first build. I’ve been working on some designs that I didn’t want to bring to you until I was satisfied with them. I think my best one is a forest that spans the entire length and breadth of Extremus, right on top of what’s currently the top level.” She turns her tablet to show Lilian what she’s come up with.

Lilian turns her head away instinctively. “I’ve been asking for another little park for years. It would, at worst, prevent three families from being able to move in over a hundred years from now. Now you want me to multiply that by...honestly, I don’t know how big the ship is, but that sounds...crazy, right? It’s crazy.”

“I don’t think so. It wouldn’t halt the population growth at all. In fact, it would promote it. You’re the one who’s always talking about the mental health benefits of having access to forestland. Our ancestors understood that, and if they didn’t have powers, patterns, or afflictions that they had to get rid of, they never would have gone to the desolate deathlands that was Ansutah. They just had no choice.”

“We wouldn’t have existed if they hadn’t done that.”

“I know. For centuries, our people have lived in stone and dirt and metal. We have the chance to change that. I believe in the mission as much as the next girl, but what are we waiting for? None of us is going to be alive to see the Extremus planet. We’re just...incubators, here to protect the future peoples who will enjoy the fruits of our labor. But that doesn’t mean that we have to suffer. Why not build a giant forest on the roof? Why not plant a thousand trees to sit under and daydream? Why limit ourselves to one park that no one goes to?”

“Exactly. No one comes here, so what makes you think they’re going to come to this hypothetical indoor forest?”

“Because they’ll be the ones who built it.”

“I don’t understand. Why would anyone have to build anything? That’s why we have robots.”

Tinaya swipes over to a different app. “I’ve been...seeing someone who works for the citizenry administrator.”

Lilian smirks. “Tinaya Leithe, are you in love?”

“Stop. It’s not that big a deal. We mostly talk about work, and he showed me some stats.”

Now Lilian accepts the tablet. “What am I looking at here?”

“You and I met because I was having trouble with my contribution score. As it turns out, I’m not the only one. They’re all going down. Everyone’s fine, everyone’s alive, but they’re not working, and they’re not enjoying life.”

“Hmm.”

“The civilian government has almost been cut in half since Extremus launched. Half! And the population has been rising, like it’s supposed to. Well, I mean, it’s actually a little slower than they predicted, but that’s why we need mental health programs, like the attic forest. I just now decided to call it an attic, instead of a roof. That makes more sense. Anyway, people need jobs. They don’t need them, but they need them.”

“Yeah, my brother just had to let someone go because the spa doesn’t get as many visits as it once did, which means her score also went down...assuming this is why there’s been a drop in patronage.”

“Lilian, the government isn’t supporting the people, and the people aren’t supporting the government. Nando thinks—”

“Nando? His name is Nando? Do I know this Nando?”

“No. He thinks this is the start of a huge problem. Because take a look at this one.” She reaches over, and swipes the tablet for her. “There was a suicide last year.”

“Oh, dear.”

“Now, you can’t multiply by zero, so there’s no real number that tells us how much the suicide rate has gone up. The percentage of increase from zero to one is undefined. But mathematically, it’s an increase to infinity, because it’s the first one we’ve ever had. And it’s because of a general decline in mental health. It—it..it could just be the first of many. We need the forest more than ever, and we need to get people involved in the project.”

Lilian stares at the suicide rate for a moment. “Why didn’t I hear about this?”

“It was buried in the news,” Tinaya explains. “It wasn’t covered up, but it wasn’t covered much either. The headline that day was about a little boy who won’t eat unless he’s dressed like a cat, and his plate is placed on the floor for him.”

Lilian is perturbed but not surprised by this. She sighs, and swipes back over to study the forest design. “You can’t have these close together. The black walnut will kill the tomatoes. I’ve told you this. You don’t always listen.”

“I did that on purpose as a prank,” Tinaya explains with a smirk. “There won’t be any black walnut in the real design. Walnuts, and their trees, are terrible.”

“It’s gonna take forever for these trees to grow. I mean, we can ask people to crouch on the ground and plant them, but they’ll die before the trees get big enough for the people who did that to enjoy. Except for the bamboo. The bamboo will be fun.”

Tinaya nods. “There’s a way around that.”

Lilian looks at her incredulously.

“Heh...time, right?”

Lilian sort of rolls her eyes. “You wanna create a time bubble so it grows literally overnight. Isn’t that illegal?”

“I’m sure we could figure it out,” Tinaya says with a shrug like it’s no big D. “I can talk to the Captain, you can talk to the First Chair.

Lilian scoffs. “I don’t get audience with the First Chair.”

“Well, I’m sure you can make your way up high enough to get things going. We can do this, Lilian. We can make this happen. It’s not going to be easy, and it’s gonna be a shit-ton of work, but what’s the point of living if you don’t do stuff? I may never become captain, but if we pull this off, we’ll both go down in history as heroes.”

“Is that why you wanna do it? That’s not a great reason.”

“Who cares what my motives are if it happens? The result is what matters. The trees and the plants and the fruits and the vegetables are what matter. You taught me how great it feels to take that first bite into a tomato that I planted and picked myself. If you want everyone to feel that, then let’s give them the chance. Not everyone can work for the best civil servant in the world.”

“That’s sweet,” Lilian says with a smile. “Okay, but we’re not talking to anybody else about it until we get the design perfect. Let me work on it myself. We gotta get rid of those black walnuts.” She shakes her head.

“All right, but let me talk to Valencia and Omega. If we’re going to use a time bubble, they’ll be the ones to do it.”

“No, don’t do that. They don’t work for the ship anymore. Reach out to Atkinson.”

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Microstory 1980: Cover

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Reese: How are we lookin’?

Micro: Fully secure...virtually. I can’t attest to the physical component. So if they find us, it won’t be because someone traces my signals. We’re ghosts. I’ll get the ceramics.

Reese: *phone rings* So if I answer this call, I’ll be fine?

Micro: Without a doubt.

Reese: *answers the phone* Go for Parsons.

SI Eliot: *through the phone* Agent Parsons, where are you?

Reese: I’m afraid I can’t tell you that, sir.

*SI Eliot will continue to communicate via phone call for this conversation*

SI Eliot: Don’t make me laugh, calling me sir while you’re actively betraying the government. Come back in, and I’ll protect you.

Reese: That’s not going to happen. We can’t trust anyone.

SI Eliot: How do you know that you can trust each other?

Reese: I trust the freemen and women. I trust Leonard. I don’t trust anyone with current, or former, ties to the government. You’ll notice that Agents Altimari, Robles, and Flynn are not with us. They could be plants too, as could Dreyer.

SI Eliot: Washington agreed to conscript the freepersons for their low probability of being corrupt. And Robles, Flynn, and Altimari are my people. I trust them implicitly.

Reese: But we can’t trust you either, or Director Washington. She’s the one who assigned Sachs to us. It was always suspicious, and now we know why. We asked him about his loyalties. He said two things. First, he admitted to attempting to kill Vogel to protect his own identity, and second, he claimed to be a continuing patriot. That usually means he still answers to someone in the government. Until that person is found, along with all of their cohorts, we have no choice but to operate independently.

SI Eliot: It’s not me, and it’s not Washington.

Reese: Sure.

SI Eliot: Reese, if you do this, I can’t help you. You and your team will be considered enemies of the state. They’ll be branded as traitors, and hunted down with the full force of the law. Your old partner will probably ask to arrest you himself.

Reese: They’re not traitors, and neither am I. Think through this logically. The country is in trouble. Trust is in short supply, which leads to mistakes and general inefficacy.

Micro: *saluting* General Inefficacy.

Reese: *holding the mouthpiece* Shh. *to SI Eliot* More aliens are coming. I can feel it. The best thing we can do to stop them is to compartmentalize our forces. We need to learn to attack from all angles, because I can guarantee you that that’s what the Ochivari are gonna do. They’ve been found in Kansas and Wyoming. How long before it’s Indonesia? How long before Russia? What if they’re already working with the Chinese?

SI Eliot: What are you going to do for money?

Reese: *looks at Micro* We have that covered.

SI Eliot: *sighs* I’ve been asked to rein you in nonviolently. I can’t stop them from sending in the troops. How could you possibly hope to defend yourselves?

Reese: *looks at Anaïs* We have that covered too. Goodbye, Hisham. *hangs up*

Microstory 1979: From the Shadows

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Leonard: No, she’s still not here. Ophelia? Ophelia? Can you hear me?

Micro: *walking up from the shadows* I’m blocking all signals.

Leonard: Report.

Micro: *smiling* Report. You’re learning, young padawan. First off, are you okay? You, Ophelia, and the prisoner? How did you get back here?

Leonard: We used one of Anaïs’ contacts to get across the borders, and then a bus.

Micro: *nodding* I’m glad you’re okay. I wanted to help, but we couldn’t tip Sachs off. Not that it mattered. Parsons escalated things at the safehouse, and we were forced to reveal the truth in front of Sasho. We still don’t know if we can trust him. That’s why I asked you to come here. This was our only way to keep Vogel safe and alive until we can figure out how many moles there are left in the government. He is alive, isn’t he?

Leonard: He’s fine. He’s in a safehouse that I set up for myself while I was free, but before DExA began. *looking around* I assume this is yours?

Micro: All I could do was hope that your parolee told you where the Salmon Civic Center would be if we were in Salmonverse.

Leonard: We had lunch in this area once in my home universe. He pointed it out. Seemed innocuous and meaningless at the time.

Micro: I’m glad that he did.

Leonard: I’m taking Vogel to Parsons. Enough of this cloak and dagger crap. We are not equipped to hold onto the suspect on our own, and every day we spend in the cold gets us closer to being burned.

Reese: I’m pleased to hear you say that. *walks up from the shadows*

Leonard: This was all just a test?

Micro: Have you heard of Lima Syndrome where you’re from?

Leonard: No.

Reese: We don’t have it either. Apparently it’s when you start to sympathize with someone you have in captivity. I had to be sure you weren’t compromised. Or Ophelia.

Leonard: Oh, the Grapley Effect. Yeah, we have that.

Reese: *hands Leonard a folder* This is what we have on Sachs. I had a friend from my military days look into it independently to verify it. He’s been playing us the whole time.

Leonard: I assume he took a shot at Vogel to shut him up?

Micro: That’s our assumption as well. We need to find out what—and who—he knows.

Leonard: *looking over the documents* This begs the question...

Reese: Director Washington? She’s the one who assigned Sachs to our department. Yeah, I’m worried about her loyalties too. That’s not our job, though. The Internal Compliance Commission will investigate on their own.

Leonard: In the meantime, what happens to us?

Reese: We’ve been shut down. But there’s hope for us yet.

Leonard: In what way?

Myka: *coming out of the shadows with a bunch of others* We’re working out of here now. Congratulations, Miazga, you’ve just joined a rogue operation.

Leonard: Not my first.

Microstory 1978: Alleged Smuggler

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Leonard: Are you Moenia?

Moenia: Yo, who’s askin’?

Leonard: We’re friends of Becca’s.

Moenia: Yeah, she mentioned she had a new crew. She told you about our dead drop?

Leonard: She told us you could help us. She said you were her most trusted smuggler.

Moenia: Alleged smuggler.

Leonard: Right. Well, we need to get across the border.

Moenia: How far across, copper?

Leonard: Not a cop. And it depends on how safe it is on the other side of the first one.

Moenia: Not very, I always say. You wanna be safe, you get yourself all the way into Kentucky. Or Missouri, if you’re in a bigger hurry.

Ophelia: We are...in a hurry, that is.

Moenia: *nods* She tell you my usual fee?

Ophelia: Becca said nothing, but money is no object. It may just be...a bit delayed.

Moenia: I don’t deal in money, I deal in favors. I’ll take you with me. I’ll carry you all the way to Dexter or Poplar Bluff. Once there, we’ll part ways, but one day, I’ll call upon you, and you can’t refuse me. I don’t care if I’m askin’ you to kill the National Commander of the United States, you answer that call, no questions asked.

Leonard: We’re not going to—

Moenia: It won’t be that. It won’t be anything that ridiculous. I use that as an example, because you’ll be takin’ a huge risk, accepting my help. It may be somethin’ you don’t wanna do, or it may be as simple as tying my shoes for me. Now that is a favor that I actually did call in. It’s worse than it sounds. That was four years ago, and word is, the dude is still scared out of his mind that it meant more than how it looked on the surface. He ain’t slept right since. That’s the gamble. I know within five minutes of meeting someone what kind of favor to ask them. You need to be prepared for that.

Ophelia: We’ll take it. Get us to Missouri.

Moenia: That guy’s been quiet. What’s his deal?

Ophelia: Oh, him? He’s not allowed to talk.

Vogel: Not true.

Ophelia: *slaps him in the head* Shut up. *to Moenia* Three tickets, please.

Moenia: Three tickets, three favors.

Leonard: *looks down at Vogel* Well...

Moenia: Favors are transferable. He looks to be your prisoner, which means he could be dead by the time I need to collect, so I’ll let you do whatever it is in his stead. Deal?

Vogel: I have a better deal. I’ll give you four favors, you kill these two yahoos, and take me over the border instead.

Leonard: She told you to shut up.

Moenia: Now hold on a minute, let me think about it.

Ophelia: Moenia, don’t do this. Becca will not be pleased.

Moenia: I’m just playin’ witchya. Just make sure to keep him quiet. We’re headed into dangerous territory. The Mississippi border is even worse than the rest of it.

Microstory 1977: Deflection

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Reese: No. No. You’re not going anywhere. I want everyone in this room right now.

Sachs: This isn’t everyone. Where’s the paroler, and his partner? And where did the agent just run off to?

Reese: I sent Agent Altimari to the rendezvous point to find the other two you mentioned. She’s the only one here who I trust. The three of you, however, have some explaining to do. Let’s start with you, Sergeant. Why did you fire your weapon?

Sachs: You ordered me to.

Reese: No, I did not.

Sachs: Yes, you did. My spotter told me that I had a shot, and then you said to shoot. I distinctly remember it.

Reese: I told you to only shoot upon my order. If I had wanted you to actually shoot, I would have said fire. That’s why we use two different words; for contextual clarity.

Sachs: Well, that’s not how  I was trained. Something must have gone wrong with the comms. *scowls at Micro* That’s not my department.

Micro: There was nothing wrong with the equipment. I heard his orders just fine. He said, and I quote, shoot only on my command.

Sachs: I’m telling you, I didn’t hear that part. I thought he was telling me to shoot.

Reese: Mr. Dreyer?

Sasho: *looks over at Sachs*

Reese: No, don’t look at him. I’m your superior, you answer to me. Did you hear my complete sentence?

Sasho: *relenting with a sigh* Yes, I heard it. He told you to wait.

Sachs: This is bullshit. I don’t understand why you’re interrogating me when it’s obvious that your buddy and the ex-con are the problem here. They were headed up the stairs, probably to rescue their friend, and now all three of them are gone. They didn’t reach out to you. They didn’t leave a note.

Reese: They’re probably at the rendezvous spot, like I said.

Sachs: And if they aren’t? Are you going to keep trusting them, or are you going to start listening to reason?

*a mug on the table suddenly explodes*

Reese: *sidearm in hand* We’re under attack. Defensive positions!

Sachs: *stands up, and turns around* I told you! *stiffens up, and falls to the floor*

Micro: Tell me, Agent Parsons, do they have psychology in your universe? *turns Sachs to his stomach* And did your psychologists ever come up with the idea of deflection?

Reese: *pointing the gun at her* Explain yourself.

Anaïs: *coming in from the back* He’s the traitor. We have proof. *holds the tranquilizer gun at Sasho* We don’t know anything about this guy, though.

Sasho: I didn’t do anything. *drops his own gun*

Reese: Everyone, drop your weapon. Micro, once you’re done tying him up, do the same to your partner, then Dreyer, and then yourself. I’m going to get to the bottom of this. I detected your private channel during the stakeout. What did you say to Leonard?

Micro: I’ll explain everything, but only in a whisper...and you have to be naked.

Microstory 1976: Nuts or Chips

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Leonard: Did anyone follow you?

Ophelia: Yes. The Mississippian Militia is right behind me, as are all of this guy’s friends, and my sixth grade math teacher.

Leonard: Okay, good.

Ophelia: I know how to lose a tail...which I didn’t have. Nobody is looking for us.

Leonard: Yeah, I’m not seeing anything on the news, but I don’t know enough about this territory to say if that’s typical. This feels a bit like a police state.

Ophelia: Not really. It’s just that, as far as anyone is concerned, nothing happened in that apartment hallway yesterday. There’s a hole in the brick, but I doubt anyone’s gonna notice. Our team may have even literally covered it up by now.

Leonard: We have to get the hell out of this place, and back to the U.S.

Vogel: I can get us all someplace safe, and smuggle us out of the city.

Leonard and Ophelia: *simultaneously* Shut up.

Vogel: Look, you’re gonna have to trust me at some point. I know Mississippi, and I know Memphis. You both are obviously highly capable, but still untrained. Let me help.

Leonard: We can’t trust you. We weren’t in that hallway accidentally. We’ve been looking for you for over a week.

Vogel: I’m not surprised, but you haven’t asked me any questions, except for who shot at us, and why, so whatever you think I did, you’re obviously not certain I’m guilty.

Leonard: We’re certain enough. *to Ophelia* What did you get?

Ophelia: Mostly nuts and chips. There wasn’t a great selection at the inconvenience store. All of the sandwiches looked bad.

Leonard: *tosses Vogel a bag* I prefer nuts. Eat your chips in the bathtub. Turn on the sink faucet. My partner and I need to have a private conversation.

Vogel: *reluctantly heads for the bathroom*

Ophelia: The window?

Leonard: Doesn’t exist. *turns on the TV, and raises the volume*

Ophelia: What the hell are we gonna do?

Leonard: I may have an idea, but it’s risky. I can find us a guy.

Ophelia: You know someone? Aren’t you from, like, another planet, or something?

Leonard: Agent Altimari has contacts here. *points to the bathroom* She found him when the rest of us couldn’t, which made Reese suspicious, so she had to explain where she got the information. I have the name of her supplier here. It’s no guarantee. The last we heard, he was trying to get out of the state himself, so he may already be gone.

Ophelia: Worth a shot, I guess. We don’t have a lot of options. Who is this supplier, and do you have his phone number, or something?

Leonard: I have a dead drop location. Someone is gonna have to stay with our detainee while the other goes out. You got the burner phones too, right?

Ophelia: *tosses him one of them* You sure we can’t reach out to anyone else on the team? Not even Agent Parsons?

Leonard: It’s not that we can’t trust him. We can’t be sure he hasn’t been compromised in some other way, like a tapped phone. Now, how do you work this thing?

The Advancement of Mateo Matic: April 22, 2413

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Mateo and Leona stayed with Karla for the rest of the day, as did the rest of the family. For the last several generations, it was important to make sure that another womb-bearing child was born to the bloodline to maintain Mateo and Saffira’s child. Nothing inherent about this unprecedented situation prevented them from birthing only anatomical boys, so the family tree was quite large, and consisted mostly of men. In this case, Karla was an only child, but she could easily have been the only daughter of many. But this was not their only concern. It takes two to tango, and while partnership was generally a shared agreement, the Niemans occasionally had to take steps to avoid the premature end to the family lineage. Arranged marriage was a contentious term, but it was sometimes necessary in order to ensure the future of the baby. Though it would have been extremely unlikely for Karla to not be the one to ultimately birth Romana, there was a remote chance that she too would have to pass on the responsibility. To make that even possible, she needed a mate.

A young man by the name of Silenus Koolen was chosen to play this role. The two of them did not hate each other. By all accounts, they got along just fine, but there was no spark between them. There was no love. There was also very little pressure to make any sort of relationship work, because again, there was nearly no chance of their coupling being at all necessary. They never married, and did not have a child together, and now that Romana was here in the world, it was clearly no longer necessary. Still, he made one appearance to show his support for Karla, and reportedly continued to do so on a daily basis until the day of birth. This occurred at 12:01 central time, just after Mateo and the others returned to the timestream. The Matics were in the room where it happened, assisting with water, towels, and words of encouragement.

It was an extremely busy day, April 22, 2413. No one really knew exactly what was going to happen to Romana once she was born. Was Team Matic going to take her away? Would they never see her again for the rest of their lives? Everyone took their turns holding her, in case they would never get another chance. Traditionally, this was too much for one baby, and the doctors were not happy with this decision, but Neimans were a tough clan, and little Romana handled it with grace. But tomorrow, she will be monitored appropriately for the entire day. There was still so little they knew about her medical condition. What toll would daily time travel take on such a tiny, fragile body? In the meantime, the world government stepped in. They had spent the year remodeling the roof of the LIR Towers. It was built exclusively for Mateo and his people, but had undergone changes over the last two centuries. One of the towers was in full use, but the other stood empty, waiting for Mateo’s return.

The top floor of Lincoln Tower was still a penthouse, but was upgraded and kept up to date since the last time the Matics were here. The skybridge in between the towers was the biggest difference, having been adjusted to allow the docking of the Dante. Anyone in the penthouse could be evacuated in a matter of minutes, assuming they didn’t just teleport up there on their own. There were several units, depending on the viable size of Mateo’s team, a nursery for the young one, and other amenities. Below that, there was a restaurant, an indoor park and arboretum, and a library. These were all private, and for the center levels, there was pretty much nothing. Below that, however, was a military base, and a law enforcement station. There were other police and military buildings in the surrounding area. It was said that this was the most protected structure in the world, and that was probably true. Romana Saffira would be safe here, assuming that this was what the family wanted.

“So we’re moving to Darius permanently?” Angela asked. They were in the penthouse now, only a few hours before midnight, to get a look around at where they might live.

Leona scratched her chin. “Is there any reason why we shouldn’t?”

“I have to be wherever my daughter is,” Mateo declared. “I don’t want her to be raised without me, like the others were. So it’s up to Karla. Karla, I will go where you want to be.”

“This is a nice-ass place,” Karla admitted. “There’s even already a place for me to...sit down.” She just gave birth. They really shouldn’t have to worry about this right now, but she was the one who was going to be living here for an extended period of time. Everyone else would be gone.

Marie helped her get down to the couch, and spread out to a comfortable position. “I don’t see why we should leave. What else is there? The way I see it, we deal with one emergency call at a time, so if we receive another, we’ll have to put it off, because we’re still in the middle of this one.”

Leona laughed. “We’ll technically be in the middle of it for the next seven thousand realtime years.”

While Mateo believed that this was Karla’s decision, Dardius was the obvious best choice. Besides the tribulations and expiations on Tribulation Island, this world had been pretty good to them. Well, there was a war, but that was so long ago. This was only not the most peaceful planet they had been to when not accounting for its population. It was ten times better than Earth easily, and comparably advanced. It was clearly a great place to raise a child, yet that was no one else’s problem. “This is...this is a me thing,” he reiterated. “And a Karla thing. I love you guys, but really, if something else comes up, I don’t want you to stay just for me.”

“You’re my husband,” Leona insisted.

“You’re my best friend,” Ramses said for himself.

“You’re like a brother,” Angela said.

“Or a cousin, at worst,” Marie added, smirking.

“Hold on,” Olimpia began, “there’s not much left. “Boyfriend?” She was now speaking normally. They were never able to retrieve the Cassidy cuff that suppressed her power, but Dardieti scientists already had something for her. It didn’t stop her voice from echoing into the future, but it muted the sound, which was good enough for practical use.

Constance stepped forward. “And to me, you are like also a baby.” She patted him on the head. “There, there, you little dum-dum baby.”

Mateo smiled. “Okay. Are you okay with this...suddenly even bigger family?”

“Yes, yes, very good, thank you.” Karla immediately dozed off, one hand placed gently upon little Saffira’s chest, who was sleeping soundly in her bassinet.

There was a knock at the door. They all looked over to make sure it had not awoken mother and baby. The knock was tempered, suggesting that the knocker was cognizant and cautious. Still, Leona teleported over there to make sure it didn’t happen again. She opened it to find an old friend.

Saga Einarsson frowned at her kindly, and started to tear up. She reached out to hug her estranged friend. “I didn’t think I’d cry. I didn’t even promise myself I wouldn’t. It didn’t cross my mind.”

Leona was crying too. “I’ve missed you.” Now she could see that Vearden, Étude, and Cassidy were also in the antechamber. She started to cry even harder. These were the four owners of the entire planet. Well, Vearden didn’t technically own it, but he was a de facto co-owner, and the citizens treated him as such. The three true owners inherited it from Mateo, who wasn’t around enough to make much of a difference. They were apparently hands-on here, operating separately from the government, but working with it in the capitol building of Rutherford Tower, which was right next door. Vearden, on the other hand, was an elected official, serving as the current Mediator. He didn’t make the decisions, but he supervised the two who did.

Constance carefully carried Karla into the private hospital room down the hall that was designed specifically for her, while Olimpia wheeled Romana in with her. A nurse and a doctor were meant to be stationed here at all times, but there was evidently a mix-up in scheduling, so Constance took on the responsibility. She sure had the knowledge.

Meanwhile, the old friends reconnected with each other, and made introductions to the ones who had not yet met each other. Out of the four, Cassidy was the only official former member of Team Matic, but the other three were just as important. There was a lot of catching up to do until midnight hit in a few hours. “Please tell me you’re not here to report a problem,” Mateo said, feeling anxious about it now that the pleasantries were done, and the conversation was in a bit of a lull.

“We came here for two reasons,” Étude began.” She indicated the group before saying, “for this...and for this.” She pulled a half-full vial of red fluid from her pocket. It looked a little like blood, but if that was what it was, other things were mixed in with it to alter the color.

“That was once mine,” Cassidy said.

Mateo stared at the vial. “Oh.” Cassidy could absorb other people’s time powers, patterns, and afflictions. She was pursued by time travelers while under Mateo’s protection, but that didn’t always work out, and they never did figure out who specifically was behind all that.

“This is temporary,” Étude went on, “but we can make a concoction that is permanent. We have provided the Nieman family with counseling since they arrived on Dardius. One of these people has always been personal and private. Their conversations were just as privileged as one would expect out of a civilized society. The other reported back to us, and this was completely above board. The mothers consented to it, and they said whatever they wanted to this person, leaving out whatever they wanted to keep to themselves. Karla has gone through this as well, and based on their relatively limited interactions with her, it has become apparent to us that...” She trailed off to look back in the direction of the hospital room. “Karla will suffer from profound postpartum depression if that baby is taken from her. She has asked us to place her on your pattern to prevent this from happening. We can’t take blood from an infant for such a procedure. It would be illegal, unethical, and unnecessary. We are here to ask one of you to donate blood to finish the serum. Who’s up for it?”

All six of them held out their arms, and pulled their sleeves up, if necessary.

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Extremus: Year 57

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Generated by Google Workspace Labs text-to-image AI software

Everything is back to normal. Tinaya snuck Lataran, Omega, and Valencia back into the Bridger section. She was able to repair and reconfigure the brain sharing machine to put the latter three back to how they were. Tinaya herself, however, did not put on one of the helmets. She left her brain in its new and improved state. Who needs school when all the knowledge you ever need can be downloaded into your memory cortex in a matter of moments? Omega and Valencia were not pleased with her decision, but there was nothing they could do about it. This technology was not legal, so pursuing the matter would necessarily endanger their own freedom and reputations. They decided to just drop it, and leave it be. The two of them went off to live their own immortal lives, and Lataran went back to school. She was behind, but as planned a long time ago, was able to start back up right where she left off. There is no age limit to education, so while the majority of the students were younger than her, she wasn’t the only one who had put it off. Some kids just aren’t ready for college until they’re older.

Tinaya is living her best life, at least for now. After all that time caring for the saplings, she’s taking a year off to focus on her own needs. She’s refusing to deal with Avelino or the Bridgers. She’s not stressing out about her lack of formal education, or her future. Captain, not the captain; whatever. She’s on holiday. There aren’t a lot of vacation spots on this ship, but they do exist. She frequents the Starsight Restaurant. It’s not what it sounds like. There are no real viewports on the ship. Well, there are, but they can’t be used while in transit. Traveling at these high speeds welcomes in a literally blinding light from the outside, which is known as the doppler glow. Instead, the walls, ceiling, and floor of the restaurant serve as giant holographic projection screens, making it feel as though the tables, chairs, and patrons are floating in space. Even the surface gravity is lowered to about 20 percent normal to enhance the immersive experience.

Tinaya also plays mini-golf, and destroys objects at the therapeutic rage room, but she spends most of her time at the spa and hotel. She sits in the hot tub, and swims in the pool. She gets massages, and she relaxes on the beach facsimile, which is very obviously not located by a real ocean, but it’s close enough to get the effect. It’s better, actually, because there aren’t any sand fleas or broken beer bottles to contend with. She’s not been at the spa in nearly two weeks, though, because it’s better to take breaks from her break, or it stops feeling special. She’s having trouble getting back in today. “What do you mean that I’m not currently allowed in?”

“It’s your contribution score, sir,” the desk attendant replies.

“My contribution score?” Tinaya spits. “I never check that thing. It’s always been fine; what’s changed?” Extremus doesn’t have any form of currency. Money need not be exchanged in order to enjoy amenities. But that doesn’t mean everything is completely free to everyone. One must be a productive member of society. A contribution score is a number that places a value on the amount of effort a resident of this ship exerts. It basically calculates how good of a person you are, and how much you deserve whatever you’re asking for. Going to school, getting a job, not committing crimes; these all add to your score, and not doing anything with one’s life can lower it. That appears to be what has happened to Tinaya.

“I’m sorry, sir; I don’t have full access to your background information. All it tells me is that you’re sitting at a score of 83, and that is below our threshold for enjoyment of our facilities. You are not permitted to reenter the premises until you reach a score of at least 140.”

“I don’t understand how it works. I’ve never worried about it. That’s something adults think about. But it’s my birthday, and I want to celebrate it. This used to be my favorite place to go, but that is quickly changing.”

“Oh, it’s your birthday?”

“Yeah, why?”

“I...I’m not so one hundred percent sure about it either. I have a regular job, and that sort of gets me a pretty high score, so I’ve never given it much thought but I do believe there’s an age thing. I can get my supervisor up here to discuss it.”

“Yeah, that would be great. Thanks.”

A couple has been waiting in line behind her. One of them mutters something under his breath.

“Excuse me, what did you just say?”

Neither one responds.

“Don’t be scared. Say it out loud. Say it to my face.”

“I said that you were a Karen.”

Tinaya is rageful for a second, but she quickly slips into embarrassment and shame. She is being a Karen, isn’t she? She still doesn’t know how her score works, but it should be no surprise that it’s gone down. She’s not done anything for the ship. Perhaps a year-long sabbatical wasn’t the best idea in the world.

He senses the transition of emotion in her face, and his own changes. “I’m sorry,” he says. “It’s not my place to judge. I know that I don’t know what you’re going through. I hope...you get your score back up.”

“Thank you.”

She’s about to leave when the desk attendant’s manager comes around. “I understand that you’re having an issue, sir?”

“Don’t worry about it,” Tinaya says. “It’s my fault.”

“I can help you,” he says comfortingly. “Why don’t you come into my office?”

“Okay.” She follows him into the back, and sits across from him.

He pulls her info up on the screen, which Tinaya can only see from a steep angle. “Okay, looks like you have a score of 83.”

“I thought that was all right.”

“It used to be pretty good for someone like you, but two things happened shipwide this year, and one thing happened in my industry. Number one, beginning on January the first, the maximum score was raised. The highest used to be 120, but it is now 216. Now, of course, everyone’s score was lifted to account for that. In fact, I believe there was a short clause in the new bill that gave most citizens the benefit of the doubt. So if you had a score of 108, you would end up with...” He plugs in the math. “...194.4, which they would have just bumped up to 195, because they don’t do fractions.”

“Okay...so now 83 is extremely low, but I was here two weeks ago, and there was no problem, so why wasn’t mine raised?”

“Because of the other two things,” he begins. “Last week, our internal policies changed. We now require a minimum contribution score of 140, which under our old policy, accounting for the new maximum possible score that the government came up with, was only 120. For a short window, yours was probably sitting at around 150, but it’s not your only issue. Your score would have been all right yesterday, however, it’s your birthday. It is, in fact, your twenty-third birthday, and on this ship, you no longer enjoy a boost in your contribution score from your parents. You are no longer in school, you do not hold a job, and you have been spending a lot of time at the spa. That has finally caught up to you. You should have been warned of this, and that is something that I could have done for you. I should have probably guessed that you presently do not have anyone else to help you through this. For my part in the lack of communication, and the misunderstanding, I apologize. I can point you to some resources that can help you raise your score. You could find a job, maybe you can go back to school.”

“I can’t go to school. I wasn’t accepted.”

The manager nods slowly. “I understand the awkward position that you’re in, Miss Leithe. Or rather I understand that I don’t understand. Word gets around, even to private citizens, like me. They say that you were gonna be a member of the crew, but something happened. It’s not my place to question it, and I certainly can’t help you get back to a place of honor. I might be able to find you a job, though. It’s not going to be particularly glamorous, but if you work hard, and you keep your head down, you’ll to 140, or at least close.”

“I don’t know...”

“As manager of this spa, I would be capable of making an exception if your score has improved enough, according to my own judgment. As long as you cleared it with your new supervisor, you could come back here, and take a rest. But staying for weeks at a time, several times a year, is probably a practice that is behind you.”

“It was never going to last forever. I’ve just been dealing with a lot, and I wanted to stop going so hard. We’re traveling at the speed of light, and I was trying to...slow down for once in my life.”

He chuckles, and spreads his arms demonstratively. “Look at where I’m workin’, Miss Leithe. Believe me, I understand slowin’ down.”

She nods appreciatively. “What would this job be?”

My sister works in the civilian government. She’s not someone you would have heard of, but her job is secretly important—”

“I don’t want secrets. I’m sick of secrets.”

“I just mean that she’s not famous. She’s not a politician; she’s a civil servant. She does good work, I think you’d like her. She’s too busy, and I can’t get her into this spa to relax, because there’s too much work to do. Though she won’t admit it, she needs an assistant. She’s entitled to one, but she’s never asked for it, and I’ve been pushing for it more than her superiors have because they don’t care about her like I do.”

“If you’ve already been trying to get her to get an assistant, what makes you think she’ll take me?”

“You’re a lost little puppy. She would consider it a favor that she’s giving to someone else, rather than something that she’s taking. I just have to frame the proposal the right way.”

Tinaya thinks about it for a moment. If it’s a low enough office, it won’t disqualify her from being Captain one day, and Second Lieutenant Velitchkov did say that they liked her for her ability to make her own choices. This is probably not written in the stars, which is exactly the kind of decision she ought to be making. Plus, it’s time to stop feeling sorry for herself, and actually do some good for the ship. The contribution is inherently rational, rather than arbitrary. “Okay. Could you set up an interview?”

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