The Advancement of Mateo Matic: June 16, 2468

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Mateo Matic came back into the world, and screamed. He screamed for a good two minutes while his memories of the past that were taken from him flooded back into his brain at once. They weren’t bad, per se, but the journey that his past self took with Carlin and Aclima was anything but pleasant. Once he arrived in Ferdiz, the locals welcomed him in, but were upset by his insistence on exiting immediately. He had come for the wrong reasons. They were there for enlightenment, and peace with one’s own past. He was there for his future, and that was not the point of the Pilgrimage. Still, he was apparently entitled to do whatever he wished with his life, as was Aclima, who chose to leave as well. Though she did not allow the timonite extracted from the ground to transport her elsewhere. She began the long walk back to the border of the desert. This, they were far more accepting of.

Obviously, Mateo did make it back to Earth in the Third Rail, memories not intact. He continued on with his life, trying to help his friends, and save the worlds. He had many more adventures, traveling to other realities, and other universes, eventually making his way all the way back here to close his loop. The timonite was what erased his memories in the first place to prevent a paradox, and now that such a thing was no longer a concern, he could have them back. He recounted his experiences with the group, as did Aclima, who had her own perspective, and was the only one who could tell them about her experiences alone.

Carlin chose to stay behind in Ferdiz. He understood the assignment, and Mateo and Aclima believed that finding peace in paradise was always his intention. The war efforts to which he contributed in Stoutverse were affecting him more than he let others realize. He spoke a little about it during the Pilgrimage, but Mateo and Aclima did not relate this information during their recap. Apparently, this was bound to happen one way or another. Members of Carlin’s family had an incidental history of leaving the group, and never seeing each other again. First Trina, then Alyssa, and now it was his turn. Moray would be all right without them. He had his own path to walk.

The Waycar was still here, and as he promised, Ramses stayed behind for a year to keep an eye on Cassius and the crew. They spent most of their days training for a war that would hopefully never come. Theirs was not a job of violence, but of protection, yet they wanted to be prepared in case they encountered opposition out there in the bulk. None of them knew for sure how the Ochivari would react to their interference in their plans. They didn’t cause trouble for the Verdemusians, so Ramses mostly worked in his lab on the Vellani Ambassador. It was here that he fabricated their own version of the quintessence consolidator and skeleton key, but he said it was even better. Now they no longer needed the Waycar’s help for anything. He wasn’t truly alone there, though. Over time, factions went their separate ways on this planet. They weren’t hostile towards each other, but trade negotiations were as tricky as they were necessary. Each micronation had control over at least one resource that the others needed. The Ambassador was a good, neutral location to hold these discussions. Ramses stayed out of it, though. He didn’t even serve as host. Everything was their responsibility.

Since he and the rest of the team would eventually have to leave, he built and deployed small reframe automators to the next star system over to gather raw materials to build them a new permanent diplomacy orbiting station. This way, everything they had for these purposes came from outside help, and no one could argue greater rights to any of it. Maybe it wouldn’t work. Maybe their conflicts would strengthen over time, and slowly erode the peace that they still enjoyed. But at least Ramses had done everything he could to help them. And that was kind of what they were out here doing, wasn’t it?

It was decided that both Team Matic and the Waycar would depart today, so in celebration of this, the locals proposed a joint dinner for all executive members in their new space station. The Alpha and Beta were there, as were the respective leaders of the nations. Cassius represented the Waycar along with Kineret and Hadron. Aclima had yet to officially accept the position of his Deputy Sentry, though she was here in that capacity. Also present were the four Staff Sergeants. They were eating and talking, and having a good time. Mateo was particularly interested in learning more about the timonite deposits, and how they came to be there. He was afraid to ask, though, so Leona did it for him during a break in the discourse.

“Well, we don’t actually know how it happened,” Focus Janda Wilden answered. He was the leader of one of the smallest micronations called Extrema. They were a group of scientists and researchers who were dedicating their lives to reestablishing a connection to Extremus. They were apparently cut off from it decades ago. Everyone in Extrema had their own title, which were all just terms that exemplified what a good scientist needed, like Reflection, Tenacity, and Curiosity. “This planet had to have unusual temporal properties from the very beginning, or what happened here would be happening everywhere. But at some point, presumably due to all the temporal manipulation that was going on during the early days of settlement, a grass evolved called timogramen. It was a precursor to the timonite that you are already familiar with. At first, the settlers used it for their own needs, to power some of their technologies. Understanding the conditions of it, among other factors, was actually required for using the Nexus that once stood here, as well as other time travel technologies and powers. 

“Over the years, the timogramen spread to become an invasive species. The more timogramen there was, the harder it was to do the simplest of things here, like teleporting. It was threatening to take over the whole world. So our ancestors gathered every last blade, and every last seed, and flew it to the Alhadabara Desert. They burned it. They burned it all up, thinking that they would be rid of it forever. But the ash seeped into the soil, and mineralized as it sunk deeper into the crust. At the same time, life sprung where once there was none. Thus, the Ferdiz, and the timonite veins below it.”

“Fascinating,” Mateo said. “And the timonite, do you use it in your research?”

“None of us has been able to make the journey across the Alhadabara,” Janda replied. “It sounds too hard. We’re intellectuals, so we’re not exactly built for it.”

“We would love a sample,” his right-hand man added, though they couldn’t recall his name. “It wouldn’t guarantee results, but studying it would certainly provide us some much-needed insight. Before Omega disappeared, he apparently cleared most of the central archives that were stored in various places in this system.”

Aclima reached into her bag that was hanging on her chair, and removed a fist-sized timonite stone. She set it on the table, and used her index finger to scoot it towards the Extremans.

“Where did you get that?” Leona questioned.

“The Ferdizites gave me one too,” Aclima answered. “I didn’t ask for it, but I think maybe they knew that someone here would need it. I’m guessing that they use the timonite at their disposal to see the future, or just to keep tabs on the rest of the world, and maybe beyond.”

“Hold on,” Alpha Merchant said, hovering his hand over the crystalline stone when Janda reached for it. “There are procedures here for this sort of thing. You can’t just take power, even when an external force gives it to you. We did not come here for diplomacy, so a discussion will have to be scheduled.”

“It’s a gift to us,” Janda contended. “There. Discussion over.”

“That is not how this works.”

“We are no threat to you,” Janda argued. “We are only a handful of self-sufficient people, and we do not rely on trade from others. We have not asked for anything since we asked to secede. We are entitled to this.”

“I will not have it,” Leif insisted. “We talk first. That is our way. If you disagree with my decision, you are welcome to challenge my position as Alpha.”

Janda shrunk into himself, implying that a challenge was as physical as it would be for a fictional werewolf pack, or something dumb like that.

Aclima picked the timonite back up. “I’m not giving it to Verdemus. I’m giving it to Janda. He may do with it as he wishes.”

“Please respect our customs, visitor.”

“You will show respect,” Alpha Vernon demanded, standing up. While Alpha Leif Merchant was in charge of the population of the whole planet besides Ferdiz, his claim to this right was in perpetual challenge by the leader of the second-largest nation of Vaskovia. This was why the leader of that nation also called himself an Alpha, and it led to a lot of tension between them on a personal level, as well as a diplomatic one. “Aclima of Ferdiz has made the Pilgrimage...twice. She is superior to all of us.”

“Not everyone sees it that way,” Alpha Merchant spits. “You may sit back down,” he said, as if it had been his decision for Vernon to stand in the first place.

Either way, Vernon was the loser of this argument. If he sat back down, he would be admitting his own subservience to Leif. But if he remained standing, he would stand out like a fool. He chose the latter.

Leif smirked. “He is wrong,” he said to Aclima. “You may take back the rock, if you like, but I cannot authorize a gift to an individual, or a single nation, of this magnitude. My rule over all is the only thing keeping us from the brink of war. You must understand that. And you must respect it...Aclima of Ferdiz.”

“She is not Aclima of Ferdiz,” Cassius said, also standing now. “She is Deputy Sentry for the Bulkverse Traveler Waycar. You will show respect to us, and our ways, or you will find yourself on the wrong end of an Ochivar wing. The stone goes to Mister Wilden. I have spoken.”

Leif seethed. “That rock is not going back down to my planet. I will not have it!”

“Fine,” Janda said. “Then we’ll move permanently to the moon of Jaunemus. That’s where the Nexus was. We were considering doing that anyway. But know this, Alpha...when we make contact with Extremus, we will be laying out the truth of what’s become of our government. We will not show you loyalty.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” Leif responded, digging into his position.

Aclima handed Janda the stone.

“Wonderful!” Ramses exclaimed. “That’s done. Let’s get back to the meal. I believe it’s time for dessert? Who wants sand cake?”

They continued to eat, and enjoy each other’s company, albeit with a few more awkward silences than before. The benefit of there being more than one micronation was that they could serve as buffers. It wasn’t just two polar opposites who had to get along with each other. They had things in common with a few others, who had things in common with each other, who had things in common with the other end of the spectrum. After it was over, and people started leaving, Aclima pulled Leona to the side. When Mateo started to follow, she didn’t ask him not to.

“What is it?” Leona asked.

“I’ve spent more time with Matt than anyone else here,” Aclima began. She looked over at him. “I told you and Carlin things that I’ve never told anyone. I don’t...feel anything for the Waycar.”

“I can see that,” Mateo acknowledged.

“Well, I was wondering...” Aclima started to say.

Leona smiled, which was enough to get Aclima to trail off. “You would be alone a lot of the time. There’s a reason that the six of us have stayed together for so long, and haven’t really added anyone else in the long-term. We bring people on sometimes, but they always leave, because they have to.”

“I can go into stasis during your interim periods,” Aclima offered. “It’ll be like I’m one of the gang.”

“We’ve tried that,” Mateo told her. “It’s not a good long-term solution either. Besides, I need you on the Waycar. With Carlin out of the running, we need someone there that we trust. Because we all know that we can’t trust Cassius. He’s not evil, but...”

“You can trust me? I’m a hybrid.”

“You’re a person,” Mateo clarified. “And like you were saying, we’ve been through a lot together. I remember it now. I know it’s gonna be tough, so what you should do is find someone else there; someone you can confide in. You’ll be able to see it in their eyes. They won’t be enamored with Cassius either, and you can bond from that.”

Leona opened one of her arm compartments, and took out a communication disc. “These don’t have unlimited range, but if you’re ever in the neighborhood again, you can talk to us. There are others on the network who aren’t on our pattern, so you can talk to them too. I’ll get you a directory.”

Aclima looked honored as she was accepting the disc. “Thank you.”

Mateo nodded, and then just decided to go in for the hug. Leona did not partake.

They said their goodbyes, and then joined in on all the other goodbyes. They made sure to stick around to watch the Waycar disappear before they launched the Vellani Ambassador into orbit. They didn’t know where they were going to go now but they would discuss it on their own, probably next year.

“I assumed we were returning to the Goldilocks Corridor,” Ramses said, confused. “We’re pretty close to it now. We’ll be there by tomorrow, even if we only use the reframe engine.”

“What would we use if not the reframe engine?” Leona questioned.

“What do you think I’ve been doing all year? And what do you think quintessence is? It’s a doorway to the whole universe. I can get us anywhere in spacetime near instantaneously now.”

“You can?” Leona was shocked.

Ramses smiled brightly. “Yeah. Wanna test it out?”

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Extremus: Year 84

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Tinaya Leithe was reportedly on an away mission for eleven years before she finally returned home, which is not exactly a lie; it’s just not the whole truth. The passengers of Extremus are aware that there are some excursions away from the ship, and that it always involves some form of time travel. They’re aware that someone managed to go rogue decades ago, and found a civilization millennia in the past. They don’t know who this person was, or how many of his acolytes have infiltrated Extremus, but they know that these people exist. They do know about Verdemus, but they don’t know that the crew maintained a persistent connection to it for years. They also don’t know that a permanent connection has finally been established in the form of two new Nexa that Omega and Valencia built on either end. Given enough time, everyone presently on board could theoretically go there. They could travel back and forth, or abandon the grand mission altogether. Publicizing the events surrounding the colony has been proposed as a viable option, though some are taking it more seriously than others.

Tinaya stands at the bottom of the steps. Everyone currently in-the-know is sitting on them, patiently awaiting the beginning of her presentation. Culture on the Extremus is a hodge podge from all sorts of different originating cultures. They come from Earth, Durus, Ansutah, Gatewood, and Extremus itself. Each time their ancestors moved—or had been moved—to a different place, they adopted new traditions and practices. One of the customs that they picked up from their time in the Gatewood Collective is the concept of a Devil’s Advocate debate. In a stalemate, or a state of ethical dilemma, two opposing forces will settle their differences by arguing each other’s positions. Tinaya believes that they should reveal the truth about the planet to the passengers. They should lay it all out on the table, and let the chips fall where they may. She will thusly be arguing against that. She takes a deep breath as if she’s about to start talking, but she doesn’t.

“Have you not prepared?” Lataran asks in a faux English accent. “She believes in maintaining the secrecy of Verdemus, and their integration into the Nexus network. Not only does it allow them to travel back and forth freely, but it gives them a lifeline to anywhere else in the galaxy that has one of their own machines. People could just go live on Earth, or Teagarden. To her, letting anyone go would set a dangerous precedent. They could lose everything. What they’ve built here could fall apart, and turn the whole mission into a joke...a footnote. Thusly, when it’s her turn to speak, she’ll be arguing in favor of transparency.

“Point of order,” Councilman Modlin argues. He’s serving as the mediator in this debate, because he remains undecided. “The Devil will not speak until the Angel is finished.” It is the Devil’s job to advocate for some sort of change in the status quo, or at least a greater change. In D.A. proceedings, there is no back and forth. Only the mediator and audience members may ask questions, or make comments.

Lataran opens her mouth to apologize, but the rules are clear, and strict. She’s not even allowed to do that. So she just nods, and turns back to face her opponent.

Tinaya is grateful for the delay. She is prepared, but she’s afraid of winning. That’s the fascinating reason for the practice. The better you are, the more likely you are to win, which actually means that you lose. More often than not, it manages to poke holes in everyone’s argument, and the result ends up being the proverbial Door Number Three. It shows people the compromise that they were unwilling to recognize before, because they’re too far on one side of the spectrum. They can’t see it until someone forces them as far to the opposite side as possible. But in this last second, she has changed her mind. “I’m ready.” She clears her throat, and pulls up a list on the smartboard. It contains all the bad things that have happened on the ship since it launched that have been known to be caused by the Exins. “This is what the Exin Empire has done to us. These are attacks and sabotages carried out by agents of the enemy.” She clicks the remote. Sub-bullets appear between the items. “These are the consequences of those actions, rippling out from the attacks in ways that could not have been predicted.”

She gives the group time to read through them. She did not only create this for illustrative purposes. Some people in the audience may need to be reminded of the specific events, and a few, like Aristotle and Niobe, weren’t around to see it, nor study it in school. She clicks again. “This is what time looks like.” On the screen is the name Jeremy Bearimy in cursive. It’s a reference to a popular TV show on Earth, which claimed this to be the shape that time makes in the afterlife, as opposed to the traditional linear model. It’s a joke, really, but still canonical. There actually is a real man named Jeremy Bearimy who was given this name by a fan of the show who found him as an infant, unwittingly playing into what would become the boy’s unusual temporal pattern. Time doesn’t really so perfectly look like this in the real world, but it’s a closer approximation than a straight line. Tinaya points to the r in the surname. “If the Exins find out about Verdemus at this point. All they’ll have to do is wait until time gets back to here to wipe us all out. She traces the loops and curves forward before pulling all the way back to the beginning of the name, and starting over. All she’s really saying is that it doesn’t matter when the Exins find out that Verdemus wasn’t destroyed. They would be able to use this information to change the past.

“So, you’re saying that we have to keep it a secret forever,” Belahkay figures.

“Yes,” Tinaya confirms. “When time travel is involved, there’s no getting past it. Your past might be waiting for you in the future.” She clears her throat again, and sets her pointer down.

“That’s it?” Councilman Modlin questions.

“That is the breadth of Lataran’s position. The only reason to keep it secret from the passengers is that some of them may be spies, if only unknowingly.”

Lataran perks up, and tries to argue, but she can’t. Not only is it still not her turn, but she’s not responsible for her own position. She has to stay on the opposite side until the debate is over. She has to pretend to be against herself.

Spirit decides to help her out. “I think that what the Captain wishes she could say is that it’s more nuanced than that. There’s a lot that you’re leaving out.”

“Madam Leithe, you are failing to understand the assignment. You’re expected to rigorously argue your opponent’s position as if it were your own. You’re expected to act in the spirit of healthy debate, not lose on purpose to win in the real world.”

“I’m not,” Tinaya contends. “I agree with her now.” She looks over her shoulder at the Bearimy model. “This is all that matters. The Exins are the greatest existential threat that we face. And they look just like us. There is no way to know who among us would help them, and hurt us. They didn’t infiltrate Extremus, they didn’t even infiltrate Gatewood. They infiltrated Durus. They covertly landed on the rogue world centuries ago, bred a secret society, the descendants of which would later travel through The Abyss, and into Ansutah. Their descendants maintained this secret society over the course of two thousand years before humans escaped that universe, and came back here. Their descendants then boarded Extremus, and now, their descendants are here. Over a hundred generations apart, and they still act against us. That’s commitment. And there is no competing with it. Honestly, I don’t know if we can trust the people in this room.”

“I must say,” Arqut jumped in, “that we don’t know for sure that that’s how the Exins ever infiltrated us. We’ve just not been able to pinpoint the origin of the spies that we’ve discovered. That doesn’t mean they go all the way back to the Durus days. There are and were billions of people in Gatewood. It would not be that hard to sneak someone aboard one of the cylinders, even only days before Extremus launched.”

“The fact is,” Tinaya stresses, “that they were here, and could still be here, and we’ve never been able to catch them until they’ve done something bad. No one can know about Verdemus,” she says firmly. “We can’t even just not tell anyone about it. We have to destroy the Nexa. And before we do...” She trails off, at first to pause for dramatic effect, but she becomes so comfortable in the silence that she finds it hard to get out.

“Before we do...?” Niobe encourages.

“Before we do,” Tinaya repeats, “everyone here has to go back to the other side, and stay there until death.”

They all scoff or shake their heads. “What?” Spirit asks.

Tinaya shakes right back. “We’re too dangerous. What if, say, Aristotle meets someone special, and mumbles something about it in his sleep? What if Lilac gets drunk, and spills the beans to a random fellow patron at the speakeasy?” She doesn’t actually know whether there is a speakeasy. She just assumes that drinking alcohol is around here somewhere. “We can’t. Trust. Anyone.” She emphasizes. “There are people already on that planet. I didn’t put them there, I didn’t authorize them, but it can’t be undone.” Actually, it could be if they wanted it bad enough. “We’re not just protecting the Extremus mission. We’re protecting them too.” The number of people who are a threat to the safety and security of the planet is exactly the same as the number of people who would be a risk if someone leaked any information. Then again, that has always been the case. They are under constant threat.

“If we don’t trust the people on the ship to not be spies, what the hell are we doing here? What’s the point?” Lataran blurts out.

“The Devil will wait her turn,” Councilman Modlin declares.

“No, it doesn’t matter. I switched sides too. “Tinaya, these people need to know that there’s a choice now. None of us was around when Extremus was first being conceived.” We didn’t choose to go on the mission, but we have a choice now. I’m going to stay as this is my home, but we can’t speak for everyone else. There is a movement,” she admits. “It’s small, but growing. Some people do want to leave. They want to live on a planet. They’re angry that we left Verdemus in our rearview mirror. Some even think that we should turn around. Now that we have a way to go back without turning the whole ship around, don’t we have an obligation to present it as an option? Don’t we owe those people that much?”

“Where does it end?” Tinaya asks. “Do we place a cap on the number of emigrants? What if everyone chooses to leave? What if they change their minds?”

“I’ve thought of that. Everyone will have maybe a week to make their decision, and submit their application for resettlement. After that, there are no take-backs, and no late additions. You go, and you stay gone, and you can only travel to Verdemus. We’ll lock the computers out of all other destinations.”

“Wait, let me get this straight,” Tinaya begins, realizing that this Devil’s Advocate debate has officially gone off the rails. “You want to tell them the truth about Verdemus, but lie about the Nexa’s true limitations?”

“They’re apparently called Mark III Nexa.” Lantern uses airquotes. “Yes, we could argue that they can’t be on the full network; that they can only go to each other. That way, everyone stays out of the Goldilocks Corridor, and even the stellar neighborhood. I’m advocating for transparency, not one hundred percent transparency. There is a line, I believe in lines.”

Tinaya sighs, and steps over to the wall. There aren’t very many viewports on this vessel. Most of them are viewscreens, and even then, there’s usually nothing to see that isn’t fake. Their ancestors could look out a window to see Gatewood, and their descendants will hopefully one day look out to see the Extremus planet. But for now, it’s nothing but the doppler glow, and that’s blinding unless the glass is heavily tinted. That’s what this viewport does; show what it really looks like outside the ship as it’s traveling at the highest fraction of lightspeed at an extreme dimness. She turns the tint down just a little bit to make it a little bit brighter.

Lataran stands up, and approaches—not her opponent—but her friend. She places a hand on Tinaya’s back. “Word will get out. We may both be dead by then, but people will learn what we did. Do you want them to think that we didn’t trust them, or that we believed in them? Would you rather force everyone to stay on a mission that no one cares about anymore than let everyone leave, and just accept that as our fate? Our parents’ parents wanted us to get to the other side of the galaxy. That was their dream. And it’s still mine, even though I won’t be alive to see it. It’s not necessarily anyone else’s though. And I want them to be happy too.”

“I think we both well know that you can be alive to see it if you so wish.”

Lataran nods. “Yes. But it’s still up to us to keep this thing moving, and when we’re gone, regardless of how we answer The Question, we’ll have to hope that our children will keep it going for even longer. But if they don’t—” She reaches up to turn Tinaya’s chin away from the window. “If they don’t, Tinaya...then that will be okay too. It will not be a dishonor to our ancestors. It’s up to us to choose our own fate, and if our grandparents loved and love us as much as they should, they’ll understand.” She looks through the viewport now. “We don’t even know where we’re going. Maybe we were always on our way to Verdemus.”

Tinaya smiles softly at her best friend. “They were right to choose you as Captain. You were made for this job. You remind me of Halan Yenant.”

“I should be so lucky,” Lataran replies. She looks over at the crowd, who all suddenly start to pretend that they’re not watching them. Omega probably has an implant that allows him to hear their whispers. “Don’t be so quick to count yourself out as a good Captain too. You’re not dead yet.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

Lataran gives her a hug, then releases. “Come on. This debate is over, but we need to come to a consensus. It’s not just about convincing each other. Everyone has a say. I’m sure Vaska will have a lot to say when she comes back from the planet.”

They return to the group, and keep talking it through. They eventually come to decide on partial transparency, but determining exactly what that entails warrants much more discussion. And some outside help.

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Microstory 2250: Consequences are Inevitable

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It’s Nick. I technically could have written my last blog post, but I wasn’t really feeling up to it, so I asked Kelly to fill in for me again. She’s kept you well up-to-date on everything that was happening with me. We don’t have all the details yet, but from what we gather, a rival of the man who was paying me for my index and bone marrow does not want the procedures to go ahead. Evidently, there’s this whole subsector of research that’s looking into longevity that a lot of people don’t know about. It’s kind of secretive, because progress is slow, so it doesn’t make the companies any money, which can make them skirt the rules sometimes. I was a victim of this hidden war. Everyone working in the field believes that I’m the biggest breakthrough anyone could have had, and the competitors are feeling jealous that he’s the one who got to me first. Well, it looks like my poisoner may have gotten their wish. I seem to have suffered permanent damage from the pesticides that I ingested, which will likely forever contaminate every system in my body. It won’t kill me anytime soon, since we caught it early, but however I die in however many years, it will almost certainly be a contributing factor, like smoking. That’s exactly why I don’t smoke, because the consequences are inevitable, if not apparent. There are some things that I can do to help the situation, like being as healthy as possible for the rest of my life, but there’s no cure, because there’s not really a disease. I suppose I would be all right if I did manage to get out of this universe, and into one that allowed my immortality to flourish. I told you a little while ago about there being a potential way to make that happen, but it would require the aid of other people, and that would require capital. I no longer have that if we’re not doing the surgeries. Don’t worry, the sort of down payment I received is mine to keep. He’s assured me that he won’t be asking for it back. And hey, it might still happen, I need to do more tests in the coming weeks to see if it’s worth it. We’ll just have to wait and see. In the meantime, it may be in my best interests to start looking for a regular job again.

Microstory 2249: Not Sure on the Motive

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I’m happy to report that Nick is doing well. They gave him some medicine, and performed some other treatments, and the poison is clearing his system. It evidently could have been a lot worse. If he didn’t have this website, we may not have been too worried about his symptoms, but the way that he was writing was just so unlike him. Plus, he’s at a particularly high risk, so the people who care about him are probably always on high alert for things like this. In other news, the authorities already know who poisoned him. They evidently confessed without much effort. We did not expect any answers this fast, but we’re grateful. Though, our gratitude is overwhelmed by our anger and disappointment. We’re still not sure on the motive; if there was some kind of financial gain to be had, or what? That’s usually the reason. They’ve not yet released any names. Others may be involved, so they don’t want to say too much. Once all suspects are apprehended—or it’s determined that there only is the one—they’ll release more information about it. So follow the FBI on socials, I guess, or watch the news.

Microstory 2248: Deliberately

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Hey, everyone, this is Kelly again. Things are not going well. As you may have realized, Nick is not well. We thought that we were totally past this, but we were wrong. He proved that he was once immortal by being cured of the prion disease, and now he’s incidentally proving that he’s no longer immortal by suffering from something else. We didn’t know what we were dealing with at first, but we were very worried for him. He’s been very fatigued and weak lately, which he attributed to a lack of consistent and comfortable sleeping situations. But that just didn’t seem to be enough to explain how dramatically he was declining. And then that last post. It was written so poorly, and wasn’t like him at all. We knew that something else had gone wrong; something specific that could be tested for, and not just remedied homeopathically. Everyone’s first thought was yet another pathogen of some kind, since he seems to have become a magnet for them. I’m sure that a lot of you were all thinking the same thing, as his posts were reminiscent of the kind that he wrote during other infections. That’s not what it is, though, and not because he’s run out of those. Some of you seem to feel like he can’t get another infection, because he’s already had every kind, but that’s not how it works. He’s had every classification. He could get a thousand different ones over the course of the next half century, and he will still not have contracted everything that the world has to offer. And you can become reinfected with the same exact disease anyway; we’ve never cured any of them. But no, that has nothing to do with it anyway. It’s poison. He has been poisoned. The hospital ran a battery of tests, and came to the conclusion that it’s an organophosphate. Don’t ask me to say that out loud. They are commonly found in pesticides, which is why the majority of patients live or work on farms, or in facilities would use these pesticides, or which take part in the manufacturing of them. But those are not the only ways to encounter it. You can eat contaminated food, or even be exposed to it from a chemical explosion. None of these apply to Nick. Well, he’s eaten food, of course, but we’ve all eaten the same things, and have not tested positive for the stuff. The most likely answer is that someone poisoned him deliberately. I don’t know if they were trying to kill him, or only wrongly trying to prove that he’s still immortal, or what, but we will not tolerate that. We’ve spoken with the proper authorities, and a major investigation is underway. Since these chemicals are sometimes used in terroristic plots, the FBI is on the case, not just for Nick, but because such a bad actor places the whole country at risk. So be warned, they’re going to find you, and you will pay. As for Nick himself, he is receiving the treatment that he needs, and the medical professionals expect a full recovery eventually. If you did this to him, you better hope for a positive outcome, or you will be in even bigger trouble than you already are.

Microstory 2247: Anecdotes that Never Happened

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Good news is I bought a new bed today. I was looking for specific one with special features. Back on my Earth, I had one like it. I didn’t buy it myself, but my sister did. Then she moved to another country, and couldn’t take with her, so I got it instead. It’s not something that I would have chosen, because I struggled with holding onto work, and didn’t have the marketable skills to afford it. But now I’m in a different position. Now I can buy things like this. It is really comfortable, but that’s not the reason I did it. Like I said, sister gave it to me, so it’s just a small connection to my past. I know it’s the same thing as being around the people that I care about, but it’s still a small bit of home. Or it’s a reminder of it anyway. I should look for more things like this, to make myself feel a little more comfortable, and a little more safe. There is nothing in this world that anyone in my family is so much as aware of. They never seen the movies you make. They have heard of your presidents. They not study your history. I have to do my best to pretend. If I were back there, my dad would have helped me carry this thing in, and up the stairs. We would have bumped the wall at least once, and after four years, he wouldn’t have able to take it anymore after occasionally passing by it when he visited, and fix it for me. My mom would have insisted on buying my sheets for me. I can make up these little anecdotes that never happened, but could have, and almost feel like I’m back where I belong. It makes feel better. And I really need it. Especially right now. I’ve spent all day cleaning and arranging our new furniture, so I’m going to break in this new bed, and get to bed early. I see you tomorrow, and all that.

Microstory 2246: So There’s That

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Moving day! That happened fast. One thing that has made it easier is that we don’t have to worry about selling the place where we lived before, and we don’t have to transport any furniture. Well, we did have a few things. Kelly left some stuff at her old place, and so did Dutch, though his parents had moved a lot to storage while he was missing. I only have enough belongings to carry in one small suitcase because I’ve left my apartment the way it is for the next tenant. I hope they like it. What we’re gonna have to do now is buy stuff to fill the new house up. The security firm is taking care of some of that, because they need it to be secure, of course. Also of course, I can’t give you details on our security protocols, because that would be dumb. But they’re good, so don’t come after us, lemme tell you that. There will be cameras, and other sensors. I won’t bore you with any more information about this stuff. I’m sure you’re all more interested in the surgeries that I’m about to have. Well, there’s no updates on those at all, so I can’t tell you what I don’t know. Oh, and the President of the United States wants to meet me, so there’s that. NBD.

The Advancement of Mateo Matic: June 15, 2467

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Putting their heads together, Leona and Ramses were able to fix the issue with the quintessence consolidator. The second test missile they deployed was no different than the first. It was just as intelligent and adaptive as the first, but it failed to penetrate the thick layer of dark matter that was now protecting Stoutverse. After a third test, they piloted the Waycar back through the barrier. The skeleton key allowed them to pass through, which satisfied both of their goals for this mission. They were now done with this brane, and could leave it behind to return to Salmonverse.

It wasn’t very far away, hyperdimensionally speaking, though calculating an entry point close to their exact destination was a different matter. Fortunately, they had Aclima on their side. She understood Maramon technology better than most due to the fact that she was genetically engineered for it, instead of just being born as a normal person. They broke through the membrane, and found themselves in cislunar space, almost running into a shuttle that was parked at the apparent Lagrange point one. After the near-miss, they entered a high orbit, and began to scan the surface. Before they had surveyed the whole thing, a voice made contact with them, and sent them the coordinates for a landing site. Cassius ordered the pilot to make the landing, and told her that she was in charge until he got back. He and Team Matic then exited the ship, and approached the Welcoming Committee.

“My name is Sentry Cassius Hoffman of the Interversal Defensive Ship Waycar, name subject to change. Are we on Verdemus?”

A man broke free from the line of locals. “This is indeed Verdemus. I’m Alpha Leif Merchant. This is Beta Uaiya Merchant. Yes, we’re married. No, there’s nothing in the Charter that says we can’t be.”

“Wasn’t gonna ask,” Cassius said.

Leona stepped forward. “I’m Captain Leona Matic of the Stateless Private Vessel Vellani Ambassador. Apologies for cutting the introductions short, but we came here on a mission of grave temporal importance. We’re searching for something called timonite, and have reason to believe that it’s here. From our perspective, we have already succeeded in procuring a piece. We need to close the loop.”

The Alpha and the Beta exchanged a look. “We know what you’re talking about, and we know where you may find it. Our ancestors accidentally created it, and the garden on top of it, over a century ago.”

“We’ll show you,” Uaiya said, “but you must promise to follow all of our rules and customs. You cannot merely take the timonite. It must be earned.”

“We agree,” Leona promised. “Sentry, why don’t you...go back to the ship?”

“That won’t be necessary,” Cassius argued.

“We appreciate the ride,” Leona told him. “You may go on to fulfill your mandate to the bulkverse. Thank you.”

“You can’t make me leave,” Cassius contended.

“But we can,” Leif said. “We study the Ambassador and Team Matic in school here. I don’t even know you.”

“You’re welcome,” Cassius said to Leona with an attitude. Everyone else was on Leona’s side but they all recognized that Cassius was an okay guy, and that he wasn’t the enemy. He just kind of rubbed people the wrong way, and he kind of did it immediately.

“Aclima, you’re not going back?”

“I will later,” Aclima replied. “He’s obviously not leaving yet. He knows that you’ll be gone at the end of the day, so he’ll have plenty of time to make his exit.”

Leona nodded in agreement. “Tell us about this garden,” she politely requested of Leif. “Was it man-made?”

“Yes, in the middle of the largest desert on the planet,” Leif started to say.

“Won’t be a problem for us,” Future!Mateo assured him.

“It will,” Leif insisted. “We asked you to follow our rules, and our rules say that you cannot teleport there, or even take a vehicle.”

“How do you get there then?” Past!Mateo asked.

“You walk.”

“How far is it?”

“Roughly 6,000 kilometers.

“That’s impossible,” Olimpia figured.

“It’s not. It just takes a long time,” Uaiya countered. “We call it the Pilgrimage. You may not enter Ferdiz unless you walk there from the desert border. To take any shortcut would be incredibly offensive to us, and more so to the ones who did it.”

“I see,” Leona said.

“No. But you can.” He offered her his hand as Uaiya offered hers to Future!Mateo.

All four of them teleported away to be followed by the rest of the team, including Aclima and Carlin. They were standing on the ridge of a mountain. Below them, in the center of the desolate basin, sat a lush patch of fertile ground. It looked so out of place from up here; a paradise surrounded by desert, like an artist’s interpretation of the Garden of Eden. If they didn’t know better, though, they could believe it was natural. This was a reasonable spot to expect an oasis to form. Between them and the garden, they could also see an ant-sized person making their way towards it. They were moving very slowly before falling to their knees, and then to their face.

Angela lurched.

“No,” Leif urged her. “He is close enough to Ferdiz. Others will come for him. He will just not have quite made it all the way. But it is not up to us to help.”

“I thought we couldn’t teleport here at all,” Ramses reminded him.

“Just to show you,” Leif explained, “it’s fine. But if you want that timonite, you have to make the Pilgrimage, following the rules literally every step of the way, and you have to hope the other Pilgrims let you take it. They do not fall under our jurisdiction, so I can promise you nothing.”

“How many people take the Pilgrimage per year?” Marie asked. “How many die?”

“These days, maybe fifty people attempt it? I couldn’t tell you how many die. Taking the first step breaks you free from your duties to society, and also its protections. We don’t retrieve the bodies, and we don’t communicate with Ferdiz.”

“So it could be a deathtrap?” Future!Mateo suggested. “A group of cannibals could be living there, waiting for their weekly meal?”

Leif fell into a very soft smile, and waited to respond as he turned his head to look at Future!Mateo. “Yes. They could be. There are currently around 60,000 people in the world, and there’s a reason we don’t all try it.”

“No one comes back?” Leona asked.

“I believe some have, over the years, and they’ve been welcomed. But they stay quiet, and if their experiences were recorded, I’m not cognizant of the details. Like I said, I’m only the current Alpha; not an expert in this. You’ll have to speak with the right scholars for more information.”

“This planet was populated by Extremusians. Did they abandon their mission?” Olimpia pressed.

“No.” Leif took a breath, and admired the view one last time. We’re all clones, or descended from the clones.” He turned away. “Stay as long as you like, but don’t take one step closer, or you’ll be killed. That much I do know about them.” Leif and Uaiya took each other by the hand, and disappeared.

“How are we going to do this?” Future!Mateo asked. “I don’t know how long it takes to walk 6,000 kilometers, but I know it’s longer than a day.”

Leona nodded. “Yeah, it could take 200 years of realtime, depending on the terrain, and the fitness level of the Pilgrim.”

“I could go,” Aclima volunteered.

“As could I,” Carlin piped up. “Neither of us is on your pattern.”

“I’m also superhuman,” Aclima added, trying to distance herself from Carlin, even physically. “So it should be me.”

“I don’t think there’s a maximum, since the Alpha couldn’t even give us an exact number of Pilgrims, and he didn’t say you had to go alone. But anyway,” Leona continued, shaking her head, “we can’t ask you to do that. It’s not your problem.”

“It’s mine,” Past!Mateo said. “It’s mine, and mine alone.”

“If you die, it’ll create a paradox,” Future!Mateo argued with himself. “And anyway, you’re on the pattern, just like the rest of us.”

“We need more information,” Olimpia determined. “We need the entire set of rules. What can you take with you, what can’t you? Is there a dress code?”

Leona noticed that Angela was still staring at the fallen Pilgrim. “Angie. This is their way. Whoever that is, he knew the risks, I’m sure of it.”

“There’s nothing to eat or drink around here!” Angela cried. “How does anyone survive this, without an IMS, or anything?”

“We’ve seen very little of the route,” Leona answered calmly.

“Well, Pia’s right,” Angela responded. “I have more questions.” She teleported back to the landing site. Everyone else followed.

They sat down with the Alpha, Beta, and the Gamma in the Delegation Hall of the Ambassador. They didn’t only discuss the Pilgrimage. There was a reason for their leadership titles, and it had nothing to do with alpha-male mentality. Omega Strong was a clone of Saxon Parker. He gave himself that name after the number that he was assigned left him with a mental complex. He abandoned his calling, and struck out on his own, eventually winding up on the transgalactic ship known as the Extremus. To remedy his regrets, he cloned himself more than a hundred years ago to build an army to fight against the Exin Empire. This planet was located relatively close to the Goldilocks Corridor, though it was not considered part of it. The Extremusians choosing it as an outpost placed the two factions more at odds than they already were.

Some of the clones rejected their responsibilities, which should have come as no surprise, since they were all created from the original, defiant Omega. They weren’t exact copies at any rate. Each one was actually based on the one prior, and genetically altered ever so slightly each time, always drifting further and further away in every respect. It was for this reason that the clones who chose to dig in on Verdemus instead of going to war had felt comfortable procreating with each other, even though they all technically had the same progenitor. There were anti-incest laws, though. It was illegal to form any sort of romantic bond with someone within one thousand degrees of separation. As it turned out, Leif and Uaiya were exactly a thousand degrees apart, which was why they were so defensive about their relationship. Different people had different ideas on what was considered acceptable, and many felt that even this amount of genetic drift was too close. Over time, as the population aged, these restrictions would probably relax, especially since the descendants made it more difficult to make the calculation in the first place, but for now, it was a topic of intense debate.

As for the Pilgrimage, they were right that they didn’t have all the rules. Whoever went could not go with an IMS, nor any electronic, or temporal advantage. They were allowed minimal supplies, including shelter, limited clothing, a knife, rope, a fire-starting kit, and initial rations. They obviously had to carry all of this on their backs, though Leona guessed correctly that they could travel in a group. Aclima was clearly the perfect candidate for this since survival was so much easier for her, and the Merchants didn’t see any issues with it. The rules didn’t say anything about what species you had to be. For Carlin, the more they talked about it, the more excited he became. This would be a personal journey for him—as it was meant to be when it was first designed—but he could not articulate his exact reasons. Regardless, there was nothing they could do to stop him. But Past!Mateo was very perturbed. People had already done so much to help him, and he felt like a helpless baby bird. He had to do something too.

“We can help with that as well,” Uaiya claimed. She stood up and disappeared briefly, returning with what reminded some of them of an ankle monitor. “This fits around your ankle. It has a little bit of the timonite you seek, though my guess is that it’s not enough for you to just take. It doesn’t suppress all forms of temporal manipulation, but it does tie you to realtime. It should stop you from jumping to the future. It will use the timonite up, though, just as it would any other power source. And if I’m being honest, if that happens in the middle of the year, it might throw you back on your regular pattern instantly. I don’t know enough about how salmon work.”

Past!Mateo smiled, and graciously accepted the gift. “That settles it, I’m going. It doesn’t matter if anyone else does.”

“You don’t need to be alone,” Aclima said to him, patting him on the back.

“I’ll be doing this for myself as much as for you,” Carlin promised.

“Are you two sure?” Past!Mateo looked to Leif for guidance. “I don’t think there’s any going back.”

“It’s true,” Leif began, “when you begin the Pilgrimage, you forfeit your rights. But...you’re not citizens, you’re visitors, so it’s a bit of a gray area.”

Past!Mateo looked at his friends. “If we can’t wear our suits, then we need time to prepare. You won’t be able to see us off.”

“That’s okay,” Leona “We’ll say our goodbyes now.” She leaned in, and planted a passionate kiss on his lips.

“Hey, that’s my wife,” Future!Mateo joked. It was strange to see it, but he was fine. It had been a long time since his past self had seen his own version of her.

“That ankle thing,” Ramses said as he was eyeing it. “Do you happen to have another one of those?”

“Do you wanna go on the journey too?” Marie asked, confused.

“No. But I think someone should stay and keep an eye on the Sentry.”

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