Extremus: Year 61

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The Attic Forest is a beautiful place. It is, in fact, the most beautiful place on the ship, though that’s not saying much, except when remembering the first time you were in the engine room. It’s not just Tinaya, Lilian, and Cainan anymore. A whole team works shifts, gardening, maintaining the atmosphere, giving tours, and performing other necessary duties. That’s not even counting the events that are held here. It’s a hot venue that people use for concerts, poetry readings, and the like. The section is frequented by a great deal of people every day. It’s hard to tell how much the Extremusians love to visit, but anecdotal evidence suggests an undeniable success.

Last year, Tinaya was able to finish the coding for the giant sequoia in the basement. It’s currently around a half meter tall, and the growth rate will increase year over year. Still, very few people know about it; only the essential members of government and crew. Most of these positions won’t even maintain the secret to future administrations. When they leave their positions, they won’t pass the information on to their successors. There is presently no strategy for announcing it to the public. The specimen is still so fragile, and that’s what they’re most worried about. It’s better to let it grow big and strong before they start letting people see it. One day, though. One day.

Today, Tinaya is in another meeting. She attends these from time to time when someone comes up with a new idea of what to do to make Attic Forest better, or at least what they believe could accomplish this. Most of them are stupid or bad, but others are not so terrible. They would just be really difficult. Extremus did not simply wave goodbye to Gatewood, and fly off into the space. The ship contains data upon data upon data. Earthan history, Ansutahan history, philosophical papers, cooking recipes, all kinds of entertainment; basically the scope of Earthan and vonearthan knowledge. While they do not maintain constant communication with anyone back in the stellar neighborhood, Team Keshida sends periodical updates with new information. It’s just about possible to know everything that everyone in the galaxy knows. Part of this data includes genomic databases for every known species on every planet.

If you wanted to know what the DNA double helix for a penguin looked like, you would be able to look that up. For the most part, that’s all you would be able to do. The people who came up with the idea of this mission didn’t accumulate most of this information for any specific purpose. It just didn’t make any sense not to have it, and it’s not like virtual storage space is a precious commodity. Now the bioengineering scholars have other ideas. They’ve become inspired by the Attic Forest project. At the moment, plants are the only things that have been grown from their genomes, but they could take it further. They’re interested in trying to develop animals now, starting with fish. It took a long time to get this project off the ground, so to speak. This next stage—if it ever happens—will surely take even longer. The ethical questions are so much more plentiful for this proposal, and it’s not something that Tinaya or Lilian can help with. Even so, they have to be at all the meetings, because they’re in charge of the biome. Today is different. This meeting isn’t with the bioengineers.

The Resource Allocation Team: RATs, as they’re called by people who don’t like them. And most people don’t like them. They’re a weird little bunch. They’re responsible for handing out things like watches and tablets, and teleportation devices—which are against the law for now. If you want a new set of clothes, you go to them. If you want a new couch for your room, they have to approve it. Everyone has a horror story about going to Allocation for something they need. Capitalism was mostly vanquished centuries ago, and replaced with something better, but elements of it are kept alive on the ship, and it’s all thanks to the RATs. It’s not really their fault. There’s limited space here, and therefore limited resources. Even the time traveling excursion ships can only do so much for them. There is no trade with any other culture, and there are no takebacks. So they have to be careful with what they give, and who they give it to. They pay close attention to the contribution points market, which is the best approximation of a currency here, and that can lead them to making a lot of decisions that people don’t like, even if those decisions are reasonable, or at least unavoidable. People’s perceptions of them aren’t all rational, but human beings are not rational. The question is, what the hell do they want with the Forest Guides?

“We would like to make more paper.” Oh, yeah. They’re the ones who used some of the trees they found on the verdant planet they came across a ways back for paper.

Lilian stares at them dumbfounded. “Really?” More paper? Why has the novelty of this not worn off yet. A computer will let you write and overwrite the same space virtually countless times. What’s the point of not being able to do that? And anyway, it goes against the whole purpose of this project. “You wanna kill my trees?”

“Not all of them,” RAT Two tried to clarify for his partner. “One tree can make a lot of paper.”

“And what are we doing with all this paper?” Lilian presses.

“We’re...writing books...and sharing leaflets. I mean we’re not doing it. We’re just providing the materials that are needed.”

Lilian sighs. “We survived on this tin can for sixty years without a single sheet of paper. Before that, we were in the Gatewood Collective for forty years, also without paper. It wasn’t even that common on Ansutah. There is a reason that Earth was able to move away from it as it advanced technologically. Why are you so desperate for it now?”

RAT one and RAT Two exchange a look. RAT One clears his throat. “Honestly, Madam Diamond, we have no clue. Like he was saying, we’re not doing anything. It’s the people who want paper, as stupid as it sounds.”

“Let’s stop beating around the bush,” I jump in. “Pun intended. You have a public image issue. You’ve had it since departure day. Well, you probably lasted a few days before the first generation started realizing all the things they could never have, because they were stuck on a spaceship in the middle of nowhere. But ever since then, you’ve been fighting to look like the good guys. And the truth is, you’re okay. Your job is important.” I tap on my chest. “And individually, most people know that. “Our world would be chaos if everyone could just go take whatever they wanted whenever they wanted it. We’d run out of paper in half a second. You found something that works. As you said, it’s stupid, but it’s fun, so you want to capitalize on that success. Unfortunately, you won’t be able to. That is not what the forest is for.” I stammer a little. “That sentence doesn’t really even do it justice. It’s for...very much not that. That is to say, we didn’t just build it for something other than making paper. We did it to show the value of life in its (albeit relatively) natural state. Earth long ago had a huge problem with the amount of wood it was using. Everyone knew it, no one knew what to do about it. Eventually, however, they figured it out, and we have reaped the benefits of that struggle without actually going through it ourselves.

“On my grave will I let you send us backwards! I don’t care what people think of you, we’re not making any more goddamn paper! We’re not making any handcrafted chairs. We’re not not making any fucking bonfires. We’re not doing any of that. The Forest stays as it is, and we won’t tolerate its destruction, or even just talk of destruction. If you breathe one word of this to anyone else, and make anyone believe that there is a remote possibility of this happening, I will float you myself. I’ve been in hock, it’s not that bad. I will gladly die in a cell to stop you from peeling one piece of bark from one tree. Is there any confusion about what I’ve just said?”

The RATs exchange another, very uncomfortable look. I turn my head to share one with Lilian, worried about her being disappointed in me, but she’s not. She actually looks proud. The allocators are scared out of their minds. They are not going to call her bluff on the whole homicide thing that she threatened them with. “In that case, would you consider...”

I tilt my head, prepared to go to war, showing them that I still mean business. What could they possibly ask after my speech?

He takes a breath, so he can keep going. “...working for us.”

What? “What?”

“You hit the nail on the head.” RAT Two avoids looking Tinaya in the eye. “We have an image problem. The Parks Department had one too, didn’t it? It didn’t have any image to speak of. No one thought about it. No one cared about it.” Now he makes eye contact with her. “You changed that. You joined the team, and suddenly it’s a real thing. You built all of this.” He spread his arms to indicate the forest. They’re sitting in something they call The Fishbowl. It’s a glass structure somewhat close to the center of the Forest, where meetings like this can be held. Of course, there’s no weather in here, but it’s nice to have for privacy’s sake. It’s completely soundproof.

“You want me to fix the RA—” She stops herself; they don’t call themselves that. “...the Resource Allocation Team?”

“It would really help us out,” RAT One said with a glimmer of hope in his eyes.

I look over at Lilian again, who frowns at me, but very softly. She looks to the men. “Would you please give us the room? You too.” There is a fifth person in the room. He is a representative from the government. Someone like him always sits in on these meetings in order to advocate for the best interests of the Office of First Chair. He bows slightly to her, but deeper to Tinaya, and then leaves quietly with the other two.

“Uhh...I don’t know why they would ask that,” Tinaya says to Lilain. “It’s such a dumb question, right?” She laughs. “Right?”

“It’s really not,” Lilian counters. “They’re one hundred percent accurate about their assessment of you. You are...an inspiration. I mean that in the most literal sense of the word. You are like the Goddess of Inspiration. You make things happen, and you make them better, and I would be selfish to keep you.”

“What are you saying, Lilian? Are you firing me?”

“If that’s what it takes for you to realize your potential, then yeah.”

“I can’t believe you’re doing this to me.”

“I don’t really mean that. If you want to stay, I’m not going to force you out, but I think you should go on your daily walk, and really think about whether you belong here still. You will always have a home with me, but the rest of the ship needs you, and I can’t believe it took those guys to make me realize it. Just...look into your heart, and think about your future. Even if you would rather stay, is that really what’s best?”

Tinaya isn’t sure. Is it?

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Microstory 1995: Government Grade

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National Commander Apostle Virtue: Director Reese Parsons. Thank you for coming all the way out to the Palace. Ooo, cool tie. I trust you had a pleasant trip.

Director Reese Parsons: Yes, everything is great, Mr. Commander, sir.

Commander Virtue: Mr. Commander sir. Call me Apostle. We’re all friends here.

Special Investigator Eliot: Thank you for seeing us...Apostle.

Apostle: Hey! That’s Commander Virtue to you, or Mister Commander!

Hisham: I’m terribly sorry, sir—

Apostle: Ah, I’m just fuckin’ with ya. Lighten up, Hisham. You gotta be more like this guy. *rubs Reese’s shoulders aggressively*

Reese: *laughing nervously and uncomfortably* Very good, sir. Apostle, sir.

Apostle: *laughing confidently* I can’t tell you how great it is to have another man in your new position. The last administrator really went hog wild appointing all those women. Don’t get me wrong, I love Director Washington to death, but what’s a Commander gotta do to get a little testosterone in the room, you know what I mean?

Reese: I appreciate the appointment. I’m ready to do what I can to protect this country.

Apostle: I don’t care about that. And I don’t make directorship appointments. *mockingly* That’s too much of a unilateral decision. That’s how my lawyers say it. *scoffs* Hey, you two want a drink? You seem like a bourbon guy. I got the best stuff. And Hisham, maybe one of those colorful drinks with the umbrellas? Wadya say?

Hisham: Whatever you think is best, sir.

Apostle: You’ll take the bourbon too.

Hisham: Yes, sir.

Apostle: What did I say about lightening up? That goes for the both of you. Sit down and relax! Why do you think they put couches in the room?

Reese: Thank you, sir. So, I’ve brought the budget, as well as the transcripts from the interviews that Dr. Klement made with the Ochivari. I’ve had my experts draw up some plans to make sure we can insulate our planet as best we can from the alien threat, should a true invasion happen too, but I’m sure you already have people on that.

Apostle: Oh, all that can wait. Let’s just have a chat. Tell me about this bond you have with the convict. Does that mean you buttered her bread?

Reese: Uh, they prefer to be called freepersons. And I’m not sure what you mean.

Apostle: Did you make the devil dance? Did you put the carrot in the salad; hide your friend, the corporal; introduce her to—

Hisham: He means, did you have sex with her?

Apostle: Never. Interrupt me. This isn’t another lighten up joke; this is real. Never interrupt your commanding officer.

Hisham: Very sorry, sir.

Apostle: That’s all right.

Reese: To answer your question, sir, that’s not what the bond is about. They help each other lead productive lives, and keep from backsliding to their old ways.

Apostle: Sounds bor-ring! Let’s do shots. You wanna do shots? I also got government-grade reefer, if you’re more into that. Let’s live. You wanna live?

Microstory 1994: First Class Attitude

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Stewardess: Welcome to AirChapp. Do you need help finding your seat?

Reese: I’m fine, thanks.

Stewardess: Very good, sir. Here’s your complimentary amenity kit, and a hot towel.

Reese: Uh, okay, thank you. *steps down the aisle* Hisham?

SI Eliot: Agent Parsons, I did not expect us to be on the same flight. I assumed you would be flying out in the morning.

Reese: It’s Director Parsons now. Whaaaaat are you doing here? Please don’t tell me that you were sent as some kind of babysitter.

SI Eliot: It’s not like that...

Reese: Oh, good.

SI Eliot: I don’t think.

Reese: What?

SI Eliot: Here, sit down. You’re blocking the aisle.

Reese: Of course. Sorry, madam.

SI Eliot: *speaking quieter* I have a meeting with the National Commander.

Reese: What time is your meeting?

SI Eliot: 17:00, right before dinner.

Reese: That’s..what time my meeting with him is.

SI Eliot: Uhuh.

Reese: Oh my God, you are my babysitter.

SI Eliot: I really don’t think it’s like that. You outrank me now. Congratulations on that, by the way. I never told you before. Director of your own department. Wow. And to think, if I had just run my own investigation without reading you into anything, we still would have found our man, and you would still be sitting in a windowless office on the edge of the bad part of town.

Reese: I didn’t use my office much. I did most of my work in my car. It has six windows.

SI Eliot: Of course it does.

Reese: A more expensive car would only have four, or maybe eight, so...

SI Eliot: That’s why you’re making the big bucks; because you passed kindergarten.

Reese: Look. You’ve already met Commander Virtue before, so instead of being bitter about my promotion over you, I think we would all be better off if you were on my side. Undermining me isn’t going to protect the country, and it’s not going to impress NatCo.

SI Eliot: You don’t know that. You don’t know him. You literally just said that.

Reese: Hisham, please...

SI Eliot: *taking a breath* You’re right. I am bitter. I never had any sights on a directorship, but I did have aspirations. But then you came in, and completely jumped the line, and it’s hard not to see you as a rival.

Reese: I get it, it sucks. You work with Director Washington more than anyone; you should probably be her deputy by now. So let’s talk about how we can make that happen.

First Class Passenger: Excuse me. I believe that’s my seat.

Reese: Right, sorry. *to SI Eliot* Let’s carpool to the Palace and talk more, okay?

SI Eliot: We’ll see, Director Parsons. Love the tie, by the way

Microstory 1993: Purple Tie

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Myka: Is it okay that we’re all three here, and none of us is at the office?

Leonard: They’ll be fine. Deputy Director Robles knows what she’s doing.

Myka: Deputy Director Robles. Director Parsons.

Reese: *from the other room* What’s that?

Myka: We’re just spreading gossip about you! Keep putting on your pants! [...] It’s just crazy where we are now. Maybe it’s not as much for you, since you were in law enforcement already, but I never would have guessed that I would be working for a secret department in the government. How did this happen?

Leonard: I never would have guessed that I would be on an alien planet, dating an alien, and helping my alien boss friend try on outfits.

Myka: *giggles* I want to eat your brains.

Leonard: That’s zombies.

Myka: I’ve heard it both ways.

Reese: *comes into the room* Okay, what about this one?

Myka: *tilts her head* Not bad. As long as you have a purple tie to go with it.

Reese: Why does it have to be purple?

Myka: If you have to ask, you’re not ready for this look.

Reese: Okay, well, I only have one more option, so if you shoot it down too, I’m screwed, because we don’t have time to shop before the plane takes off this afternoon.

Myka: Go get it, boy! *slaps him on the butt as he leaves*

Leonard: I can’t believe he’s doing this. What is it even for?

Myka: All department heads report directly to NatCo. I have a feeling he’s going to be spending a lot more time at the Capital, and a lot less time with us.

Leonard: I hope Celandine is prepared for that.

Myka: I hope we are.

Reese: *comes back again* Okay, here it is.

Myka: Aww, you do have a purple tie.

Reese: *spins around* How does the whole ensemble work?

Leonard: Perfect, my man.

Reese: *takes a breath* I wish you two could come with me. Not even necessarily in the meeting, but just knowing you’re waiting out in the hallway, or even back at the hotel; I would feel a lot more comfortable. I’m not enthusiastic about being alone with him.

Myka: You’ll do great. You have a penis, so you’ve got that going for ya.

Leonard: How do you know that?

Reese: Wait, what does that have to do with anything?

Myka: He’s notoriously sexist. You’ve never heard the saying? If you’re a man, he’ll shake your hands. If you have boobs, he’ll rub your shoulders.

Reese: That doesn’t rhyme.

Myka: I don’t think it’s supposed to. It’s just true.

Leonard: Well, I’ll be sure to criticize him for that in person.

Myka: I think that would be a great idea. *straightens his tie* Anyway, we better get to the airport. I’ll drive so Leonard can go over your talking points with you in the car.

Microstory 1992: Diplomatic Protection Authority

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DPA Officer: Thank you for coming, Director Parsons. I know you’ve had a long day, but now that you’ve gotten through all the background information questions, we just need to ask you about your upcoming visit. The good news is that if you ever need to speak with the National Commander again, you’ll only do one of these pre-interviews. All of that other stuff is only a yearly thing.

Reese: It’s quite all right. I understand the need to protect NatCo and national security.

DPA Officer: That’s right. So, what exactly will you be discussing with Commander Virtue tomorrow?

Reese: Uh...I’m not sure what I can say. I don’t have higher clearance than you, but it—

DPA Officer: I’ll just put down Code: Black. That basically means the only person who’s allowed to hear what you have to say is the man himself.

Reese: *nervously* Okay.

DPA Officer: *noticing* It’s fine, not a problem. Happens all the time. Commander Virtue asked to meet with you himself. That usually means Code: Black.

Reese: Okay.

DPA Officer: *clears throat* So. Do you have any known enemies or threats?

Reese: Well, I gave the last interview a comprehensive list of fugitives that I recovered during my days with Fugitive Services. I have no possible enemies beyond that.

DPA Officer: *shuffles through papers* Ah, looks like you have. Just let me take a look. Doesn’t appear to be anyone who would be of any real threat. Most of them are still locked up, except for this guy. He’s since been released?

Reese: Yes, Burhan ad-Din Salem. By all accounts, he was a model prisoner. I feel that he was let out on parole appropriately. I was present at his hearing, but did not speak.

DPA Officer: Why was he a fugitive, if he would end up such a great prisoner?

Reese: At the time, he spoke very little English, and there was some confusion regarding his lack of rights to leave the state of arrest. He meant nothing by it. Recovering him was one of my easiest cases.

DPA Officer: Hm.

Reese: What is it? You don’t agree?

DPA Officer: Oh, no, I have no reason not to trust your judgment. Your record speaks for itself. I was just noticing the strong sense of compassion you seem to have. Most members of law enforcement that I’ve met have been pretty boastful about all the bad guys they’ve put away. Fugitive agents in particular like to raise their numbers as high as possible. You seem only interested in justice. Is that a fair assessment?

Reese: The way I see it, my job has always been to protect people. That involves stopping certain people from hurting others, but if they simply chose not to hurt anyone, I would be happy. I think a lot of my colleagues would feel differently.

DPA Officer: Yes. Truthfully, Commander Virtue is one of them. Director Parsons, if you want him to like you, and give you what you want, I suggest you quell that empathetic nature of yours. He’s not a dick, but he’s a stern man.

Reese: Thank you for the advice. That’s very kind of you.

DPA Officer: *on the verge of laughing* Anyway, moving on...

Microstory 1991: Bear in the Air

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Director Reese Parsons: I’ve never been on a military airfield before.

Director Lotte Washington: Oh, I thought that Fugitive Services flew out of here.

Reese: Only for international searches. I only ever stayed in country. For that, we sometimes did charter, but usually just domestic.

Lotte: Right. Well, this particular airfield is a bit far, don’t you think?

Reese: That’s what I wanted to say, but I didn’t want to sound ungrateful.

Lotte: You and I are on the same level now, Director Parsons. You don’t have to be so nervous around me anymore.

Reese: It’s not nerves, it’s respect. You’re still senior to me, and still outrank me in every reasonable respect.

Lotte: It’s a little nerves.

Reese: Yeah, but not about this.

Lotte: Ah. Your meeting with the National Commander.

Reese: I...I, it’s just— *looks around to see if anyone is watching* I didn’t vote for him.

Lotte: Neither did I. Those records aren’t public, nor accessible to him.

Reese: I know that, I just keep thinking, what if he can tell?

Lotte: It doesn’t matter. Commander Virtue doesn’t need people to love him. He values efficiency and straightforwardness. He asks you a question, you answer it. Answer it as succinctly as possible. Don’t clarify anything unless he asks for it, and don’t volunteer information unless it’s some kind of emergency.

Reese: Okay, that’s good advice.

Lotte: You still look worried. You think I’m giving you bad advice?

Reese: Ya see, I both hate and love that about you. You’re too perceptive. It’s aggravating. Can you read minds?

Lotte: Only weak minds.

Reese: *can’t help but crack a smile*

Lotte: There he is; the Reese Parsons I’ve come to know. Lighten up. I promise you, relaxing a little bit before the meeting isn’t gonna turn you into a surfer dude in front of him. You’re an authority in your responsibilities. It’s not a quiz. He won’t ask you anything you don’t know, because he knows what kinds of things you know.

Reese: Thank you, Director Washington.

Lotte: You should just call me Lotte now. Even SI Eliot does.

Reese: All right, Lotte. Wadya think? This place is far, but what choice do we have?

Lotte: You tell me. You’re the one who’s gonna be running teams out of here.

Reese: I keep picturing a helicopter taking off from headquarters, and then the agents or troops jumping out of it to land in the plane midair. Driving it during rush hour is gonna be a nightmare. Of course, we would need to build a helicopter pad anyway.

Lotte: That could be done, but midair transfers are probably a no-go.

Reese: I know. *laughing*

Lotte: There’s one more option, but it’s pretty unorthodox too.

Reese: What were you thinking?

Lotte: Well...the river is a lot closer to your headquarters than this place is.

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

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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