The Advancement of Mateo Matic: April 25, 2416

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Angela Walton stood at the door, waiting to go in. No one was keeping her from simply walking through on her own, but she wasn’t quite ready. She had not been given clear instructions, so she wasn’t sure exactly what she was going to say. Only two things were clear to her. One was that Dardius had no interest in forming any sort of strategic relationship with the Sixth Key, or any of its components. Two, her sister, Marie had no interest in rekindling—or even reminiscing about—any relationship with Heath. Their unwelcomed arrival placed Mateo’s daughter in danger. It was irrelevant whether this was the Sixth Key representatives’ intent. It was what happened, and it had to be dealt with. That was Angela’s responsibility now, because it couldn’t be anyone else’s.

“You’re not Marie,” Heath determined immediately.

“No, I’m not.”

“I want to see her.”

“She doesn’t want to see you.”

“I need to hear her say that.”

“No, you don’t. She owes you nothing. You walked out on her when she needed you most, and nothing has changed. She’s decided to move on. She’s had to. I’ll ask you kindly to respect that.”

“Fine. I didn’t come here for that anyway. You and your team appear to hold a lot of sway with these people. Could you please request an audience with the planet’s leadership for me? We have important business to discuss.”

Vearden and the world owners are aware of you and your request, and they are denying it. I’m sure they’ve told you. The only reason you’re still here is so that I could return to the timestream to send you off. All you have to do is give them back control of the Nexus so they can actually do that. And agree to take this.” She held up a vial of clear liquid.

“What is that?” Heath asked.

“Memory eraser. The entire last year will be wiped from your minds.”

“Why would we do that?”

“You’ve seen too much here, and you have placed my family in danger. I asked them to make this for you. Not only will they send you back home, and erase your memories, but they’ll send you back to the original time you left. It will be as if it never even happened.”

“We’re not doing that. Our memories are too important to us. They are part of who we are. The six of us have held meetings in our jail since then. We have shared stories, grown closer. You can’t take that away from us. I, more than anyone, know what it’s like to lose who you are.”

“You know nothing. The man who looked like you, who lost his memories, was not you. Your consciousness was summoned to the future before that happened.”

“Miss Walton, I’m keeping my memories.”

“The only other option is Lohsigli.”

“I don’t know what that is.”

“Exile,” she clarified.

“We can’t do that either. We have responsibilities to our people.”

“What did you think would happen when you came here unannounced?”

“We hoped that they would at least sit down with us; not lock us up, and ignore us for an entire year. Now, I understand that you’re on your own schedule, but that has nothing to do with us, or the Dardieti government.”

“I think you’re a little ignorant here. This world is millions of light years away from Earth, and it is not populated because of all the pretty trees and animals. It was founded as a sanctuary. It was literally called Sanctuary. What started out as a hotel has grown into a powerful civilization since then, but this mandate has not been lost. The people who live here are under the protection of the leadership, and you have threatened that. Even if you have the best of intentions, you broke into their home, and they’re not going to listen to you. If you had gone through the proper channels, you might have been okay. This...” She held up the vial again, “is your second chance. If you make the same choice again, they’ll know they can’t trust you. If you reach out first, they may listen this time.”

“Why would we make a different choice? If you’re forcing us to an earlier state—”

“Humans don’t store memories in little boxes that are organized by date. Memory is associative. The solution doesn’t erase them. The solution opens up your mind, so a trained psychiatrist can extract what they need. They’ll strongly suggest you make a different choice. And you’ll only not take that option if you genuinely came here with bad intentions.”

Heath sighed. “If this is what the Dardieti want, I’ll talk it over with the others.”

“Very well.” Angela turned away, and found herself face to face with Leona.

Leona looked over Angela’s shoulder. “What’s happening here?”

Angela looked over her own shoulder. Then she took Leona by hers, and teleported them to the middle of the Mirage Desert. “How did you find me? Did Olimpia tell you where I was?”

“I sensed great tension,” Leona explained. I was leaving you alone, but then the tension was suddenly relieved, and it was so jarring that I felt compelled to come to you. How did Heath Walton get here?”

“We don’t know. He’s not said, but the Dardieti did not expect him. There was a huge military formation on the island. They were freaked out. Olimpia was there; she told them that they should lock Heath and his friends up until it could be resolved. I was asked to facilitate that resolution.”

“Why? Why you? Why didn’t they tell us?”

“We were leaving you and Mateo out of it. For the baby. And Ramses is busy anyway. Olimpia only told Marie because of her ex-husband. She’s refused to see him. She wants that part of her life to be over, I guess.”

“That was my fault,” Leona said. “I keep talking about us leaving the past behind. But you should have told me. I could have been there to look into the Nexus problem. I could have spent this whole time trying to figure it out.

That was a good point. Angela wanted to keep everyone else out of this, but Leona was the one with the power to actually fix the situation. She should have said something before...before it all got so out of hand. “You’re right, I’m so sorry,” she said. “The Dardieti have asked the Sixth Key representatives to have their memories erased, and then go back home, but only after they tell us what they did to the network.”

“If you had told me, I could have told you that they probably spoofed their number.”

“What do you mean?”

Leona prepared to explain. “Every Nexus is supposed to have its own term sequence, even ones in alternate realities. Generating a new sequence after a duplication event is, from what I gather, a complicated matter. There is a period of time when both Nexa can serve as the real one, and this can cause travelers to end up in the wrong reality. What Mateo did with the Omega Gyroscope probably caused a little confusion when it came to the now two versions of the main sequence, especially since one of them is now in another universe. Basically, it was on the network, and off the network at the same time, which gave it a little extra power. I think I can either request a new number for it, or simply have the machine removed from the network entirely.”

“Oh. Well, yeah, let’s do that.”

Leona took Angela by the hand, and teleported them back to Tribulation Island. “Everyone out. I’m gonna fix this for you.”

All of the techs left without question. Once they were gone, Angela slid the door closed. “Thank you, Leona. I messed up. I was just trying to protect Marie.”

“I understand. Hey, Opsocor.”

“Yeah?”

“Why are the Dardieti locked out of the Nexus?”

“They have been placed in a feedback loop. It’s a glitch that I never really did figure out, but it’s rarely exploited. Basically the molecules in the air underneath the dematerialization drum—”

“It is called a drum?” Leona questioned.

“Yeah,” Venus answered.

“Oh.” She didn’t know that. “You were saying about air molecules?”

“Right. They’re constantly being broken apart and rematerialized. This makes the Nexus think that it’s in the middle of transporting a person or object to itself, and won’t let it form another connection until that one is complete, except it never is.”

“The line’s busy,” Leona reasoned. “Except it’s not, it’s just that the phone was left off the hook.”

“Yeah,” Venus said once more.

“How do we stop the loop?” Angela asked, hoping that the superintelligence wouldn’t ignore her as unworthy of response.

“Create a vacuum,” Venus suggested. “Others have solved this by sucking all the air out of the whole building, but technically, only the molecules underneath the drum are the issue.”

“That sounds like a lot of work,” Leona said. “But okay.”

“There’s another way,” Angela offered. “We’re under about one Earthan atmosphere of pressure, right?”

“Right?”

“And the composition of the air is about the same as it is on Earth?”

“I should think so,” Leona replied. “Humans survive here without issue.”

“We can teleport the air out. Just you and me. Each of us can transport two times the equal mass to ourselves, and Ramses built us to be around a hundred kilograms...”

“We would need one more person,” Leona calculated. “But it should work, if we concentrate hard enough. We’ll get Olimpia to help us. One quick jump to outer space, and then back down to the sand. Venus, you ever seen anyone do it like this before?”

“Never. That’s why I picked you.”

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Extremus: Year 60

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Today is the grand opening. Hundreds of workers contributed to the construction of the Attic Forest, whether it was planting a single seed, or installing the walls on what was once the exterior of the ship. They actually made Extremus bigger, adding an entire new layer on the top. Well, it wasn’t entirely new. There was already and eleventh deck, but it hardly extended more than a few meters. Now the rest of the kilometer has been filled in for this project. Right now, it’s all dirt and paths, with a few little ponds here and there, many of which are connected to each other via a series of streams, waterfalls, and pumps. There are spots to picnic, and a smallish venue for entertainment. The paths will be predominantly lined with beautiful plants that were genetically engineered from the DNA data stored in the database. Most of the plants were taken from Earth, but a few came from Thālith al Naʽāmāt Bida’s records.

Right now, the only stuff that’s full grown is the bamboo, which is exclusively used to signify entrances, exits, facilities, and emergency terminals. At the moment, the rest of the trees and plants are ready to go. Temporal engineer Greenley Atkinson and her team have created a time bubble that will speed up the growth of all of this life. They just have to find out who is going to push the button. It’s up to Tinaya to pick the name out of the proverbial hat, but the ceremony is being delayed, because there is an issue in the basement. “What is it? People are waiting.”

“It’s Operation Wellington, sir.” After Tinaya was promoted to Senior Forest Guide, it only seemed right to hire a Junior Forest Guide. Cainan Suárez switched his primary studies to botany soon after Project Attic Forest was announced. He is still studying in college, but he helps out in his free time. He missed a skills evaluation this morning to work on this, but his advisor is allowing him to make it up next week. Cainan is distantly related to Halan Yenant’s first Lieutenant, Rita Suárez.

“Obviously that’s why we’re down here. What’s the issue?”

“It’s this.” Cainan steps over to the wall screen, and brings up the genetic information for the Journey Tree. “Okay, here is the DNA for a giant sequoia. This is supposed to be the genetically modified DNA for the giant sequoia we’re planting, because it needs to be tailored for an indoor environment.”

This is how Tinaya knows that the mind sharing machine that messed up her friends’ brains gave her knowledge that came from at least one person besides the other three in the machine. None of them possessed this much of an understanding of genetics. “It’s too big.”

“Yeah. They modified it too much. The root system is going to dig too deep, and the canopy is going to spread too wide.”

In the center of the ship, there is an atrium. It’s this giant metal tube that goes all the way from the engineering section, up to the tenth level. Tinaya isn’t sure why the ship designers included it. It’s big, but it’s not beautiful. There’s nowhere to sit, and no elevators or stairs. There’s no plant life either. It just sits there. If you happen to be on the bottom deck, you can walk through it, but if you’re on any other level, it just forces you to go around. Because it’s thirty meters in diameter, and it serves no real purpose...until now. Now it’s going to become the growing tube for the ship’s largest tree. It will grow to be so big that they can’t even plant it in the Attic Forest, or it will crash into the ceiling. Actually, all of the trees would crash into the ceiling, if given a chance. Once that big red button is pressed, the tallest of the trees are going to grow up to thirty meters, which won’t work, because the ceiling only goes up six meters, which is two meters higher than most decks. That’s why Atkinson also designed a pocket dimension for them all to grow up into. But even that won’t be enough for the ultimate height of the Journey Tree. Hopefully, by the time it gets to be too big, though, they will be able to transplant it to the Extremus planet. That’s one reason why it’s not going to be part of the temporal bubble. It represents the journey that they’re all making together, so it will grow at the same rate as everyone else. That’s the idea, anyway.

“How did they make this mistake?” Tinaya questions. “They can see, it’s got a radius of fifteen minutes.” She points to the atrium, and then down to the floor “And they know that below this level is frickin’ outer space. It can’t be that big.”

“I know, I wish I had caught it, but I’m still learning this stuff.”

“No,” Tinaya says with a shake of her head. “That’s not your job. I should have caught it. I know how to decipher this stuff.”

“The way I see it,” Cainan goes on, “we have two options. Either we delay the planting of the Journey Tree so this problem can be fixed, or we plant it anyway, and hope that the walls of the atrium regulate the tree’s growth.”

She shakes her head again. “We can’t let it do that. First, I would say that the roots are the bigger problem. They’ll spring a leak, if allowed to go as deep as this code commands it to. But also, the sequoia is a symbol. It’s a symbol of unimaginable growth. It’s a metaphor for Extremus itself. We can’t let the walls dictate how big it gets, because the who reason we’re on this mission is to go against the rules, and find a new home in the outskirts of the galaxy.”

“Yeah, I was kind of thinking the same thing too.”

She sighs. “I can fix it. I can rewrite the code, faster than even the real geneticists can. I just...I don’t have time today. I don’t want to delay the planting. The reason we’re doing these two things at the same time is to lean into the symbolism I was just talking about. I mean, ideally, we would have planted it on day one, but barring that, any day but the day that the rest of the Attic Forest goes online will be arbitrary and meaningless. It has to be today, and I have to be in two places at once.” A child is going to be selected to engage the temporal bubble that will grow the forest before their very eyes. Every kid who wants the honor has put their name into the lottery, which Tinaya is scheduled to select right around...exactly right now.

“What if...no...” Cainan doubts himself.

“No idea is a bad idea. Go ahead and say it.”

“If we’re most worried about the roots, then let’s not plant it on the bottom level. Let’s toss in some more dirt, and plant it higher.”

“I dunno,” Tinaya says nervously. “Look at this here. They also programmed it to be bigger than a normal giant sequoia. In the next 156 years, this thing is going to grow, and at the moment, it will be a tight fit. The canopy could reach the top of the pocket dimension. In order to get this project passed, Tinaya and Lilian had to explain how they were going to fit the really tall trees in the forest. Most decks are four meters high. Some of them are double heighted which means the ceiling of one deck has been excluded, and is just using the ceiling for the deck above it. And some parts of some decks are only two and a half meters high, leaving the rest for crawl space. But all added up, including the thick hull, Extremus is only about fifty meters high. The government didn’t want to build a forty meter high deck on top of that just for the forest, so to make it work, the pocket dimension will make it bigger on the inside. There are risks to this. If there is ever a power failure on the ship, they’re going to prioritize things like life support and artificial gravity over superfluous pocket dimensions. Perhaps one day, the ceiling will be raised, but that’s a decision for a future administration. For now, if everything remains as is, and that giant sequoia gets too big, it’s unclear what will happen.

“What do we do? Do we lie? We could plant this tomorrow, and just tell everyone we did it today. That’s why it’s a secret. I mean, of course, this isn’t why, but we may as well take advantage of that.”

“No, that won’t work either,” Tinaya contends. “I’m going to repair the DNA, and the file will reflect the save date before we 3D print the seed. There will be a record of the delay in planting, or at least it could be called into question, and that would just be embarrassing.”

“I’m all out of ideas then.”

“You could do it.”

“Me?” he questions. “I can’t write code like that. Like I said, I’m just learning.”

“But you can pull a name out of a hat,” Tinaya reasons.

“You want me to do the ceremony. Oh, no, no, no, no, no. I’m just a Junior Guide. I can’t do that either.”

“Cainan, that’s a made up job. These are all made up. We’re making up the rules as we go along. There’s no reason you can’t do it. Just go up there and pick a name. When the kid shows up, shake their hand, crack a few jokes—”

“Crack a few jokes? What jokes? I only know dirty jokes, and I don’t think you want me to say them on broadcast.”

“You’ll know what to do; I trust you. Lilian will be right there next to you. Meanwhile, I’ll be down here, recoding this seed.”

“You don’t have that much time. If the lottery draw starts right now, the kid will push the button pretty quickly.”

“No, I won’t be planting the seed at the same time, but it will be before midnight.”

He hesitates. This isn’t his thing. People aren’t his thing; he’s always said that. He’s much better with plants. He talks to them, and treats their reactions to his care as responses. But she really does have faith in him, and he trusts her just as much. “Okay. I’ll need to change first, though, and my cabin is on the other side of the ship.”

“You don’t have that kind of time.” She takes off her ring, and hands it to him. “We’re obviously not allowed to teleport, but I have my ways. Just rub the gem, and concentrate on your destination. Make sure to make jumps to unoccupied spaces, so no one sees you. And obviously don’t tell anyone about it. I’m not supposed to have that.”

“You are in two places at once sometimes. I’ve always thought that.”

“Go, Cainan. Good luck.”

“Good luck to you too.” He puts the magic ring on, and disappears. Hopefully he didn’t accidentally land on the bridge, or something.”

Tinaya takes a deep breath, and switches the broadcast on so she can keep one eye on the show. Her other eye will be focused on her work. She’s had this genetic engineering knowledge for years now, but she’s not used it, because the right situation has not yet come up. Well, it’s here now, so hopefully whoever’s mind she unwillingly copied them from is as smart as her initial impression makes them seem. Two centuries from now, children may be able to sit under this tree to read or have a chat, but that can’t happen unless she figures out how to translate it from code to seed.

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Microstory 1990: True to One’s Word

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Freeman 1: Hey, thanks for meeting me, man.

Reese: Yeah, no problem. It’s been a long time. What’s up?

Freeman 1: Well, this is sort of awkward.

Reese: Go ahead, dude. No judgments.

Freeman 1: Well, it’s just that...a few months ago, you became bonded to our group of freemen, and that was great. I mean, we don’t regret it. But since then, you haven’t really, ya know, fulfilled your obligations, you know? Like, we helped you find that escapee, and then you and Myka just disappeared. You changed your number?

Reese: Yeah, it was this legal thing. We’ve all kind of had to leave our old lives behind. I’m really sorry, though; that wasn’t cool.

Freeman 1: What exactly have you been up to? A few of the other freewomen are gone too, but they’re not dead; they still see their families. Honestly, we are all kind of worried about you, but you don’t look dead either.

Reese: You’re right, I screwed up. Uhh...I can’t tell you what we’ve been doing. We got in trouble with the government, so we’re working on that.

Freeman 1: You look free to me.

Reese: Different kind of trouble. Mixed up with them is probably a better way to put it.

Freeman 1: I see.

Reese: But I’m here now. Let’s bump phones so you can have my new number. Do you need anything today?

Freeman 1: *scratching the back of his neck* Actually we do. Well, I do.

Reese: Remember, I can’t do anything illegal for ya. Though, I think I may be able to skirt the rules for you now. I’m kind of in a better position than I was before. It’s all really complicated and weird.

Freeman 1: I’m glad to hear you say that, because it’s definitely on the outskirts.

Reese: Just ask, friend.

Freeman 1: I’m trying to buy a house. I...I got a girl pregnant, and I have to provide for them. The only job I could get pays pretty well, but it’s all under the table. That makes applying for a loan pretty difficult. I would get a different job, but no one wants to hire an ex-con, especially one who was locked up for aggravated assault and armed robbery. Big surprise, I know. I have a connection at the bank, but even he won’t just give me the loan outright. *pauses again*

Reese: What does he need?

Freeman 1: Look, I don’t know what you’re doing, but by mixed up with the government, it’s pretty clear you’re saying that you’re employed by them, in some different capacity than before. You don’t have to tell me what it is, but it would really help me out if you could pose as my employer. Just say I bring you coffee or dry-cleaning, that would be enough. It just has to be from a reputable company. I dunno, is this even possible?

Reese: What do you do for a living? Are you fulfilled? Are you being exploited?

Freeman 1: Courier work. No. And probably.

Reese: Let me make a call. Let’s not fake a job. Let’s get you a real one.

Microstory 1989: Senior Moment

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IC Commissioner: Investigator Blass. Welcome to my office. Have a seat.

Blass: Thank you for having me. I have always respected and admired your work.

IC Commissioner: Yes, yes, very good, thank you. I called you in today to fill you in on what’s been going on with our investigation into the...traitors and spies that you discovered in our midst regarding these um, O—Ocho, uhh...

Blass: You can just call them aliens, sir.

IC Commissioner: Aliens, right. Obviously I don’t know much about them, but I’ve been briefed; emphasis on the brief. It would seem that we’re in the middle of a secret cold civil war. Can you believe it? We have departments undermining other departments, elected officials making hush-hush deals. The corruption is rampant, and I’m about to get fired because I’m not doing my job.

Blass: I don’t agree with that, sir.

IC Commissioner: Well, I think I do. I let it go this far somehow without realizing it, and the only way the Internal Compliance Commission survives to fight another day may be for me to step down. But that’s neither here nor there. I think it’s somewhere in the middle. Anyway, ‘nough jokes. You have continued to work with DExA, correct?

Blass: Yes, I’m still stationed there, even though everyone knows that I’m an internal investigator. Don’t worry, they’ve been very nice and accepting.

IC Commissioner: Good. I hope you understand, we couldn’t have you involved in the interviews we did with this Sergeant Sachs asshole, because of your slight conflict of interest. Such is the price of being embedded. Now normally, you would not be entitled to further details—you still aren’t—but I, and the rest of the team involved, feel that someone on that side of things ought to know what’s going on.

Blass: Okay.

IC Commissioner: Sachs does not consider himself to be a traitor. In fact, he keeps calling the interviewers traitors instead. We have finally figured out who he has been taking his orders from, and it could spell doom for our country.

Blass: I don’t know that I should hear this; it sounds far above my paygrade.

IC Commissioner: Not anymore. *hands him a document* You’ve been promoted. Congratulations Senior Internal Investigator Blass.

Blass: Oh. Thank you, sir. This is so unexpected. *pauses* In that case, who is it?

IC Commissioner: It’s Congressman Colonel Piers Jamison.

Blass: Holy Crap. The man prides himself in rooting out corruption.

IC Commissioner: I know.

Blass: He came up through the ICC.

IC Commissioner: I know.

Blass: No matter what, the ICC loses. We look bad whether we go after him or not.

IC Commissioner: That’s right.

Blass:*face sinks* That’s why I’m being promoted.

IC Commissioner: You’re being promoted because you’re smart enough to know why you’re being promoted; because only a Senior Investigator can go overt. Congratulations again, you’re our new spokesman. Your first press conference is tomorrow morning.

Microstory 1988: Mind of an Alien

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Dr. Klement: This is Dr. Marius Klement. First interview with alien subject; an Ochivari from unknown world, which reportedly exists in another universe. The subject is dressed in what appears to be formal military attire, is sitting comfortably in a soft swivel chair, and has been provided food and water up to this point, as well as access to relief facilities. It appears to be stoic and calm, though the face is hard to read.

Ochivar Admiral: I’m perfectly relaxed, thank you. And the singular is Ochivar.

Dr. Klement: My mistake. Ochivar. And you’re an admiral, correct?

Ochivar Admiral: You may address me as Admiral Lojeriha. And I’m from a planet that we just call Homebase, in order to discourage attachment. But my species originated on Worlon in Salmonverse, and technically that universe’s version of Earth.

Dr. Klement: You originated on two worlds? How does that work?

Admiral Lojeriha: We are evolved from a lesser species of mega-insects, which once contained partial human DNA due to their parasitic nature. But just so you understand, we evolved out of our parasitic nature. You are in no danger around us.

Dr. Klement: So there were humans on your world back when these insects were evolving? Are you from the future too?

Admiral Lojeriha: *shaking his head* You can’t think of time as linear like that. But so you grasp it better, humans and Ochivari in Salmonverse developed at around the same time, light years apart from each other. It was a time traveling couple who accidentally went back to our past on Worlon. The current scientific theory is that the particular parasite who attacked this couple birthed babies who survived as the fittest against all competition because they had a little bit of human DNA in them. That is why, despite Ochivari and humans having no real common ancestor, we look humanoid.

Dr. Klement: So you’re saying that we’re not all that different. Perhaps there is a way for us to find some common ground?

Admiral Lojeriha: That is all we want. We are not here to cause harm. We are warriors, sworn to protect the sanctity of life. That requires a lot of killing, but we take no pleasure in it. We kill the killers; it’s what we do. We do, and we must.

Dr. Klement: *pondering his words* So, you’re heroes, is that what you’re telling me?

Admiral Lojeriha: We have never used that word. We recognize that others see us as villains. But again, we do what we must. We have seen the destruction that intelligent species induce. Our ancestors are guilty, which is why we no longer live on Worlon. If we were able, we would stop ourselves. We are that dedicated to the mission.

Dr. Klement: Well...why don’t you just do it now?

Admiral Lojeriha: Sorry?

Dr. Klement: Well, you speak of time travel as if it’s trivial. Why don’t you go back in time and kill all of your ancestors, before they get the chance to destroy your homeworld? Why is that not what you must do? Why do you only kill humans?

Admiral Lojeriha: Well, first off, I misspoke. We do not really kill. We sterilize. But if we did that to our ancestors, we would not exist. There is no paradox, but it would prevent us from being able to carry out the sacred mission for the rest of the bulkverse.

Dr. Klement: *leaning forward menacingly* Ask me if I give a shit.

Microstory 1987: First Date

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Myka: You’re just having water? Forgive me, it’s not a big deal, but are you sober?

Leonard: I gave it up a while ago. A friend of mine taught me how to have fun without. But I’m not judging, you go ahead with whatever you ordered.

Myka: I...just ordered water too. Did you not hear me?

Leonard: Oh, I’m sorry, I’m just really nervous.

Myka: We’ve shared a meal before. Many times.

Leonard: I know, but this is different. We’re calling it a date.

Myka: Would you feel more comfortable if we didn’t?

Leonard: No. I don’t wanna feel comfortable, I wanna be with you. *embarrassed* That’s..not what I meant.

Myka: *smiling* I get it.

Leonard: So, did you see, we got that second satellite up and running.

Myka: I did, that’s pretty cool.

Leonard: Yeah, I told them the Ochivari pretty much can’t come from space, because too many of them have to die to open a portal that big, but it should be fine.

Myka: *whispering* Should we be quieter?

Leonard: Oh, you’re right. Um...locusts often die when they swarm from too high up, because of the, uh, pressure change, so you’re better off looking for them lower down.

Myka: Is that true about locusts?

Leonard: *laughing* I don’t know, probably not.

Myka: We probably shouldn’t talk about work.

Leonard: No, no, you’re right. There must be something else we can talk about *awkward silence until the food comes* How’s your spaghetti?

Myka: Regretfully messy. Not the best food for a date.

Leonard: No, I like the way you eat it. It’s cute.

Myka: *smiling awkwardly*

Leonard: Oh my God, all we have to talk about is work, or spaghetti.

Myka: That can’t be true. We’re just off to a slow start, but we’ll make it work. What about your childhood? I don’t know much about how you grew up.

Leonard: No, you first. You lived around here when you were a kid, right?

Myka: Well, not around here. This area was way too fancy for us. I never thought of us as poor, but that’s what we were. My grandparents were super rich; all four of them. When my parents got married, they decided they wanted to do everything on their own, so they cut themselves off from family money. I always resented them for that, because it meant that I had to struggle too. It wasn’t until I was locked up that I started to appreciate their decision. Money and greed corrupt; I get that now, ya know?

Leonard: I know, I’ve seen it. I have a much older brother; I don’t think I’ve ever mentioned him. He was extremely smart. The government recruited him after he graduated from college at age seventeen. At some point, he went private, and turned into the biggest jackass I’ve ever met. I basically looked at everything he did, and tried to do the opposite growing up.

Myka: Fascinating. Tell me about your first job. It wasn’t as a parole officer, was it?

Microstory 1986: Resident Xenopsychologist

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Dr. Klement: Oh, wow. You weren’t kidding, there are a lot of cells down here. Please tell me we have far more of them than aliens to fill them.

Sasho: We only have a handful of Ochivari. This place wasn’t built for them specifically.

Dr. Klement: It’s been remodeled for them, though, right?

Sasho: Yeah. While I was on probation for the last couple of months, they took my suggestions to heart, and made modifications.

Dr. Klement: Do you want to talk about that some more?

Sasho: I thought my required therapy was over.

Dr. Klement: That doesn’t mean we can’t talk anymore. I’m still practicing; just doing double duty with this xenopsychological study they’re wanting me to start.

Sasho: You’re our resident psychologist?

Dr. Klement: One of two, actually. The department is only going to grow from here, and there is no precedent for the effects of an alien presence on the human psyche.

Sasho: So the government is worried that one of us is gonna have a nervous breakdown, and shoot up the place?

Dr. Klement: That’s one possible outcome, but it doesn’t have to get that bad to warrant my position here.

Sasho: No, that wasn’t—I didn’t mean...

Dr. Klement: It’s all right, Officer Dreyer.

Sasho: I can’t get used to that title.

Dr. Klement: You’ve earned it. You’re running an entirely new kind of jail, for an entirely foreign species. Guard just doesn’t cut it anymore.

Sasho: *nods*

Dr. Klement: So, they’re coming today?

Sasho: *consults watch* They should be on the road as we speak. I’ll be heading up to the garage to escort the prisoners here. Once that happens, I’ll be responsible for them. If anything goes wrong, it’ll be my ass...again.

Dr. Klement: I’m sure you’ll do fine, but if you’re ever feeling anxious, you can always talk to me. It doesn’t even have to be a formal session. If I’m free, we can just have a little chat. It’s not like you’re paying me directly.

Sasho: The money isn’t the issue. Nor do I take issue with the concept of therapy, or advice. When I’m talking to you, I start to feel like I’m placing a burden on you. I’m on thin ice with everyone else here. They basically went on strike, and I couldn’t be there with them. I wasn’t able to prove that I’m one of them. They still see me as a traitor.

Dr. Klement: They know that you were never a traitor; that Sergeant Sachs fooled you as much as any of them. If they didn’t understand that before, they know now. You wouldn’t be allowed to keep working here if you were a threat. They’ll see that.

Sasho: Thanks, I appreciate it. I’ll keep you in mind, I promise.

Dr. Klement: Good. *looks down from the mezzanine for a bit* What’s that section over there? It’s still messy with construction stuff.

Sasho: Oh, the jail isn’t done yet. They’re trying to design a communal section that still doesn’t allow the prisoners to use their magical powers to travel the multiverse.

The Advancement of Mateo Matic: April 24, 2415

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The great thing about life on Dardius was that Mateo and Karla had no responsibilities beyond caring for their child. They didn’t have to get up and go to work in the morning. They didn’t have to mow the lawn, or go out for groceries. Everything they did revolved around little Romana. They slept when she slept, and they played when she was up for it. A lot of experts will recommend not sharing a room with one’s infant, and especially not a bed, but the two of them didn’t agree. They were in little danger of accidentally harming their girl. She slept in a bassinet that was situated between the two of them in the center of a gigantic bed. Even if something happened overnight, alarms would go off, because all three of them were being monitored by medical equipment. If she woke up to cough once, the computer would log it, and if the cough kept going, and the parents didn’t wake up on their own, that alarm would go off. Karla was born to a long line of roomsharers, and this didn’t change when the Neimans made the move from Durus to Dardius. And Mateo? He wanted to give his new blended family everything they wanted or needed, so he was flexible.

Most of the rest of the team didn’t have any responsibilities either, but they were keeping themselves busy. Ramses and Leona spent a lot of time in the lab, inventing new things, and even retrofitting the shuttle. Angela and Marie wanted to learn more about the planet, its culture, and particularly the global government. They were currently in the tower next door, shadowing the owners, and sitting in on meetings. Even Constance had something to do. She decided to become Romana’s fulltime doctor. Dardius had prepared a medical team for them, but it wasn’t necessary. She possessed the knowledge and skills of four and a half billion years. She could do just about anything. After all, her prime directive was nurture and care. As for Olimpia, there was nothing. She wasn’t smart enough to work in the lab on the Dante, and she wasn’t interested in any of the boring sociopolitical stuff. She felt like a fifth wheel with the baby, so she just sat in her room, and started watching Dardieti TV. She found it a little odd. They were speaking English, and they were talking about things she had decent experience with, but it was like they were on a slightly different wavelength. Plus, she was growing bored with it too. What she needed was a native to tell her what historical programs to watch, and which ones to skip. But who has time for that?

This was a big world, and while everyone else was limiting themselves to one tiny sliver of it, she decided to go explore. They had all been able to teleport for a long time now, but hadn’t really used this power for personal reasons. There was always some specific place they needed to be, and some urgent matter to attend to there. She was just going to be a tourist. In a single day, she hiked the Mountains of Opalia, canoed on Azuria Lake, and walked the streets of Quasar City. Now, for no reason at all, she decided to return to Tribulation Island, and take a dip in the completely unpolluted ocean. But when she arrived, she was overwhelmed by the hustle and bustle.

A man in military uniform was barking orders at his soldiers, who were running around, then taking formation around the Nexus. Two helicopters were flying overhead. A fleet of ships sat at various distances in the water. Olimpia thought about just leaving, since this wasn’t her business, but her curiosity got the better of her. She noticed one soldier standing separately from the others, staring out over the sea, instead of towards the Nexus building. “Forgive me. Is it all right if I ask what’s going on here?”

“How did you—oh, Miss Sangster. It’s an honor, but you should leave. It’s not safe here.” She lifted her binoculars back up to scan the horizon.

“What’s happening?”

“There’s been an incursion in the Nexus. And unauthorized visitor has come through. Don’t ask me who were why, because it’s not my job to know. I’m here to keep a lookout, in case the true threat is coming from out there, and the Nexus arrival was nothing more than a distraction.”

Olimpia looked over to see that others like her were staring up at the sky, a few of them with telescopes. “I’ve seen in movies, distractions like that. You’re smart to be concerned with other points of entry.”

“It’s unlikely anyone will come by sea, in such a sparsely populated remote galaxy, but it’s not impossible for someone to have secretly landed in deeper waters, and are now making their way here. We always keep an eye on the vastness, but we’re on high alert right now.”

Olimpia looked behind them. “My team and I just arrived through the Nexus.”

“I am aware.”

“How many visitors do you receive on average?”

“Almost none these days. We don’t make many rescues anymore.”

“So, it’s probably not a coincidence,” Olimpia guessed.

The soldier lowered the binoculars. “That’s why it’s not safe. They could be coming for you. I do not believe your team has been informed of the development, or you would not be the only one here.”

“I teleported here on a whim. I don’t know what the others are doing.”

“I urge you to go find out, to tell no one of what’s happening here, and to never return to the island unless a trusted authority has assured you that it is no longer a risk.”

No. There was no such thing as a coincidence when it came to time travelers. She may have thought that she came to this island just to feel the waves tickle her ankles, but she was here for a reason. It was her job to represent the interests of Team Matic. It was her job to keep the others safe from whatever was going on here. They all had important things to deal with. As the only free agent, it was the least she could do. “Thanks, soldier.” She stepped away and walked up to the General. “Do you know who I am?”

“Yes, Miss Sangster.”

She waited a beat. “Report.”

“A group of six people came through the Nexus. We have safeguards in place that prevent anyone from doing that unless they call ahead.”

“We didn’t call ahead.”

“Unless they call ahead, or it was prearranged,” the General clarified.

She nodded. “What are their names?”

“They’ve not said. They claim to be representatives of a multireality advocacy group working towards a cooperative future in the Sixth Key. I don’t know exactly what that means, but we’ve quarantined them in there until we can figure out how they breached our security, and why we’ve been locked out of the controls.”

“Did they say anything else?”

“They would like to establish diplomatic relations with Dardius.”

She nodded again. “I’m going in.”

The General sighed. “I can’t stop you, but I can advise you to not.”

“Noted,” she said simply. She turned to face the building, and prepared herself. Then she teleported in.

The six strangers were standing in a circle in the Nexus cavity, talking amongst themselves. When one of them noticed Olimpia’s arrival, she indicated as much with her eyes, prompting the others to turn. “Hello.” An apparent leader took one step forward, but stayed in the pit. “My name is Heath Walton of the Third Rail. Do you represent Dardian interests?”

“Dardieti,” she corrected.

He closed his eyelids softly, and nodded. “Apologies.”

“And no, I don’t.” She pulled out her handheld device, and ran a search. Heath Walton did not appear on her list of people she had met. But he was on everyone else’s. “The name of your wife.”

“Marie. Angela Marie Walton.”

“What happened to her?”

“It’s complicated. Do you know her?”

“Why are you here?”

“To establish—”

“Diplomatic relations with Darius,” she interrupted. “Yes, I’ve heard.”

He narrowed his eyes at her. “You do not have diplomatic experience yourself, yet they sent you?”

“Nobody sends me anywhere. I do as I please.”

“Ah. So you’re one of the elite travelers; someone so powerful that smart people know that it’s safer to just let you make your own choices than to try to get in your way, and risk turning you into an enemy. Yes, Marie is like that as well.”

“There is a Fifth Divisioner; his name, we’ve never known,” Olimpia began.

Heath’s face fell. He knew where she was going with this.

“He imprisoned Team Matic. What do you know of this?”

Heath nodded. “He was one of the few of us who happened to be in the main sequence during the Reconvergence. A copy of him materialized in the Sixth Key, and he established contact with his alternate self. He joined our group, and we asked him to find and secure Team Matic so they could return to our new universe. I wanted to see my wife again, and to offer them all to join us. They are a source of inspiration for many, and we were hoping they— wait, you’re Olimpia Sangster.”

“And if I am?”

He didn’t really answer the question. “What happened to you was wrong. We charged that man with getting you back to us. He thought that we wanted him to hurt you. He is an idiot, and an asshole, and both versions of him have since been removed from our organization. I apologize for the trouble, and the trauma. That is not what we are about. We are aware of the impending war between realities, and we are doing everything we can to stop it. We came to ask Dardius for its guidance, but since you are here as well, we ask the same of you.”

She scanned the representatives. “Do any of you have powers; temporal, psychic, or otherwise?”

“No, not even the one from the Parallel.” Heath answered, shaking his head.

Olimpia teleported out and returned a minute later with zip ties. “Let the military take you in for questioning. I’ll speak with my friends. We’ll get back to you next year.”

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