The Advancement of Mateo Matic: June 27, 2479

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The thing about these magical tethers was that there would be no more sneaking off alone; to protect the others, to escape from them, or for any other reason. Mateo was famous for this, breaking free from the group, and that was no longer an option, for they would always be able to find him. It was funny how one of the first things that happened to him was that he came into possession of a metal business card that could whisk him away whenever he needed it to, but he couldn’t do that without telling anyone. Either way, it was really important that he give this support group therapy thing a chance. So he decided to tell them about it. He didn’t tell them everything, though.

“Do you even know where it takes you?” Leona asked.

“Dr. Hammer seems to be more comfortable in the 21st century, so I’m guessing sometime around then,” Mateo answered.

“Who gave this to you?” Ramses had his arm outstretched, waiting to receive the rendezvous card for examination.

“I’m not at liberty to say...and I’m not giving it to you. It doesn’t need to be studied, I know what it is.”

“No, you don’t,” Leona argued. “It could deliver you to a special prison where we couldn’t track you, and wouldn’t be able to teleport into if we ever did manage to find it.”

“It’s not that. I trust the person who gave it to me,” Mateo explained. “And if it is, we’ll deal with it. We always come out on top.”

“Yeah, because we’re cautious, thoughtful, and prepared,” Angela said. “You’re being neither of those things right now.”

“I’m wearing my suit, aren’t I?” Mateo defended.

She rolled her eyes.

“If you trust it, I trust it too,” Olimpia decided. She gave him a kiss on the lips. Besides, you need a range test, don’t you, Ram?”

“Well, I guess, but I wasn’t gonna—”

“Asked and answered!” Olimpia declared. “No further questions.”

“I need this,” Mateo said to the whole team, but mostly to Leona. “I’m losing my mind. I’m willing to take the risk that it’s a trap, especially since I really don’t think that it is. The way it was given to me...it would have been easier just to abduct me right then and there. I wouldn’t have had time to say goodbye.”

Ramses sighed. “Hold it up, balancing it between your fingers on the edges.”

Mateo did so.

“Turn it around,” Ramses added. “All right, I have at least some data. Proceed.”

Mateo gave Leona a kiss, and then gave another to Olimpia. As he turned around to give himself some space, she slapped him on the ass. He was going to say one more thing, but the slap made him drop the card, which activated it, and spirited him away.

He found himself standing on a gently sloping rock floor, inside of a glass tunnel. He was facing the ocean, which made him feel centered and calm. He stared at it through the window, noticing how there was no door leading to the outside. After a few moments, he turned around, and headed for the door to the building.

A vaguely humanoid, but still very mechanical, robot was sitting at what resembled a reception desk. “Hello, and welcome to the Center for Temporal Health on Ilha da Queimada Grande. My name is Defghij. Please present your rendezvous card, so that I may check you in.”

Mateo padded his suit, even though he knew it couldn’t be there. “Oh, crap. Where does it go when you use it?”

“Usually the ground.”

“Lookin’ for this?” It was Leona, holding up his card. What was she doing here?

He carefully took it, maintaining eye contact with her as he handed it to the robot. “How are you here? Why? Who?”

“I’m not your Leona,” she replied. “I’m from an old timeline.”

“Our twins,” Mateo realized. That was why she needed the therapy.

“My twins,” she corrected. “You had nothing to do with it.”

He dropped his gaze, and deepened his frown. “We can’t be in the same session.” He looked back up to her to see how she felt about that.

“I agree, which is why we’re not. You still need to go through orientation.”

“She’s right,” Defghif confirmed, presenting his card back for him. “Down the hall, to the left, through the door that leads to Dr. Hammer’s office.”

He couldn’t stop staring at the alternate version of his wife. “You don’t think we should talk, about what happened?”

“About how your wife lost the children that I had,” Alt!Leona asked. “No.” She handed Defghij her own card for check-in. It was black, rather than silver. She noticed that he noticed. “It’s like a mood ring, except it actually works. Once yours is tethered to you, it will change colors accordingly.” Another goddamn tether. Great.

Mateo finally took his card back. “I’m sorry. I’m guessing black isn’t good.”

She watched it in her own hand as she flipped it around between her fingers like a magician preparing to make it disappear. “It doesn’t mean sad, it means...empty.”

He couldn’t help himself. He took her hands in his, and leaned forward to kiss her on the forehead. “Even though you’re not my Leona, you can always count on me. Whether we’re in the same group session, or not, I can be here for you. You don’t have to feel empty.”

Her card was still mostly black, but specks of blue began to shine through like stars on the firmament. He noticed that she noticed, and he saw her tuck it away up her sleeve. “I have to go. Good luck.” She walked past him, down the hall, and to the right.

Mateo looked back over at Defghij. “Your name is part of the alphabet.”

“My creator wasn’t particularly creative.”

“Have a nice day,” he said as he was walking towards Dr. Hammer’s office.

“Hey, that’s my line!”

Mateo knocked on the door. After a few seconds, it opened on its own.

Dr. Hammer wasn’t at her desk, but someone shorter was filing something in the cabinet, facing away from him. “Have a seat, Mister Matic.” She finished what she was doing while he sat down. When she turned around, he saw that he knew her.

“Siria Webb. It’s been a long time for me.”

“As well as for me,” Siria said. She sat down on the other side of the desk.

“Could you tell me what year it is?”

“It’s the year 216 of the common era,” she replied.

“That’s early.”

“That’s the point.”

“What’s this place? Where are we?”

“Snake Island,” Siria began. “As you can imagine, there are a ton of snakes here. There are no doors to the outside, so if you were a teleporter, we would caution you to not even try.”

“I am a teleporter,” Mateo corrected.

“Oh. You are? I think we need to update your records.”

He nodded. It didn’t matter to him either way. “What are the next steps?”

“First, we must link you to your card. This will prevent anyone else from using it, and allow you to access all of its features.” She walked over to the side wall, and opened what Mateo thought was just a cabinet. She pulled a sort of morgue drawer from it, having to move the second visitor’s chair out of the way. “I promise, it won’t hurt.”

“What other features does it have?”

Meditation apps, coping skills, and other lessons. It can hold photos of your loved ones, even if you don’t have any to upload, as it can pull the images from your memory. There’s also a, uhh...”

“A what?” Why was she nervous to answer?

“It’s an orgasm button.” She was still rather uncomfortable to be explaining this, but was holding it together. “Sometimes a sexual release is all you need to get through the day, and this is quicker and easier. I should warn you, though, that it keeps track of when you use it, and Dr. Hammer can see the logs, so she may bring it up if that’s, like, all you do all day. It also tracks your vitals, which she’ll use to tailor your treatment.”

“I was to understand that this was more of a support group, and Dr. Hammer would be less involved than all this.”

“I don’t know how you ended up with that card, and it’s none of my business, but they may have been misinformed, or withheld information on purpose. I couldn’t tell ya. This is all about consent, which you may revoke at any time. You can turn around and leave right now, and even keep the card, though some features may not work.”

“No, it’s fine. I want to talk to people who aren’t my friends. They’re supportive, but...”

“They’re too close?” Siria guessed.

“Yeah.” Mateo removed the armor and response modules of his IMS.

“You don’t need to strip down completely,” she informed him. Once he was on his back, she went back over to the computer to begin the procedure. She slammed on the keys with purpose, stopping to click through menus as needed. Shortly after announcing that she was starting, the dull hum of the machine stopped. “Something’s wrong.” She removed the card from its dock, spun around in her chair, and stuck it in some other device. “Card seems fine to me, unless I’m reading this wrong, so it must be you.”

“What’s the error?” he asked.

“It can’t get a clear reading.” She turned to look down at him. “Do you have multiple consciousnesses in your brain, or has it been recently blended?”

“Oh. No, but I am spatio-temporally tethered to six other people. And I have a neuro-emotional bond with five of them.”

“That must be it. One or the other would probably be fine, but if you’re permanently linked to them, then the machine can’t calibrate to your emotions, and yours alone.”

“So I’m SOL?”

“I wouldn’t say that, but I’m neither authorized nor trained to proceed. It would be up to Dr. Hammer to decide what she’s willing to do, because my guess is, if we move forward, all six of the bonded people will be able to use this card. You may be okay with that, but she may not. I really couldn’t say for sure.”

“Can I bring my team here, so she can speak with all of us at once?” he offered.

She chuckled a little. “The card is designed to transport only one person at a time. It’s not an inherent limitation, but an arbitrary one which Dr. Hammer imposed to prevent someone from abusing its power.”

Mateo chuckled back. “We don’t need the card. They just need to know where I am.” He took a breath, and prepared himself. Then he removed the microinjector from a compartment hidden in the back of the armor module.

“What the hell is that?” Siria questioned.

“A break-glass-in-case-of-emergency serum.” Before she could stop him, he jammed it into his own neck. He was overwhelmed with an intense feeling of fear. It wasn’t that it gave him images of things that he would be afraid of. It was more like he became acutely afraid of the terrible danger that the whole world around him posed. This machine he was in, the office furniture, the window, the walls. Everything felt like such a profound threat to his safety, and he knew for a fact that it would never end. He would feel this sense of loneliness and dread for the rest of his life. Nothing could stop it, no one could help him. He was lost, alone, and would soon die of the panic in his twisted and tattered heart. He began to hyperventilate. Siria tried to help, but there was nothing she could do, except make it worse. She was the scariest threat of all. This was his life now. It was always going to end like this.

She stood back up to run for help when Leona appeared out of nowhere in front of her. “What did you do to him?” she demanded to know.

“Nothing! He did it to himself!” Siria insisted.

“Don’t go anywhere,” Leona warned. She jammed a second microinjector into her husband’s neck.

Mateo immediately felt a sudden sense of relief. This room was the best, safest place in all of histories. The furniture was soft and comfortable. The walls were welcoming and warm. The window was showing them the coolest island that ever rose out of the sea. The machine was exactly what he needed today. Never again would he feel the cold emptiness of a life alone. Everything in the whole world was perfect, and he felt so much love in his bright, shining heart. His happiness could know no end, and he would never die.

“Don’t blame her, it’s not her fault,” Mateo assured Leona. “I’m fine, I just needed you here, and this was the fastest way to do it.”

“Matt, the fear serum was only to be used in emergencies.”

“This was an emergency,” he decided. “We were worried about the range of our tether. Now we know that we can find each other across a hundred and twenty light years, and well over two thousand regular years.”

Leona gave it some thought. “I guess that’s true. So, you’re okay? You’re really okay? You can be honest.”

“Really, I’m fine,” Mateo reiterated. “Call off the dogs of war.”

“Okay.” Leona took a look around. “Where’s Dr. Hammer?”

“She’s in a session,” Siria replied. “They’ll be done in about ninety minutes.”

“We can wait,” Mateo determined. “Ramses needs time to look through the data from this last jump, I’m sure.”

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Extremus: Year 95

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Lataran doesn’t call much, but when she does, it’s usually pretty important, albeit not typically an emergency anymore. Tinaya finishes up her scheduled duties, and then walks down to Admiral Wing at a deliberate but unhurried pace. She reaches up to ring the doorbell, but the door behind her opens. “Oh, hi.” What are you doing over there? What’s in that room?”

“Your future office,” Lataran replies with a smirk.

“Huh?”

“When you’re an admiral,” Lataran says as if it’s obvious.

“I thought we would share,” Tinaya explains, gesturing towards the other door.

“You think they would only build one office for all admirals?” Lataran questions. “Captains are supposed to sit down young, and sit back up when they’re still young. There should conceivably be three admirals at once. The much smaller third one, plus an extra space, are down that hallway.”

“Oh.” Tinaya tries to step into her new work space, but remains blocked.

“Don’t just walk in. That’s so unceremonious. I’m here to give you a tour.”

Tinaya drops her face into a sinister grin.

“No, don’t.”

She deepens the grin, then makes a short-range jump to the other side of the wall. She expects to find an office much like the one that Lataran has been working out of, but it’s much different. For one, it’s at least three times the area, and that’s just on the one floor. There’s also a mezzanine that wraps around the whole perimeter. Was this really meant to be an office, or some sort of shared recreational space? It would sure work for that. Part of it is made out of metal and metamaterials, like one would expect out of a transgalactic starship, but there’s also an artificial grass path that weaves through an impressively complex flower garden. It takes her a moment to notice the fountain, which leads to a very narrow stream before being pumped back up through the system. There are several trees known for thriving in indoor environments, but also a couple that are generally limited to the outdoors. Hopefully the Japanese maple and crape myrtle were genetically modified to stop growing before they reach the ceiling. Speaking of the ceiling, hologram viewscreens curve up the wall to meet each other in the center. They were surely an aftermarket add-on that was never in the original designs. Lataran has to have put a ton of work into this project, even if she commissioned someone else to build it all for her.

“I know what you’re thinking, but I didn’t involve anyone else. An admiral is not allowed to give orders, so I did it all myself. It’s taken me years to get it to this point. I gave myself a buffer year, but obviously didn’t need it, and was too excited to wait to reveal it to you.”

“This is for me?” Tinaya questions.

“It’s for us,” Lataran clarifies. She glides over to the workstation sector, where two desks are sitting perpendicular to each other on either side of a corner. “Here, the next captain can see both of us at the same time when he needs help.”

“Or she,” Tinaya reflexively corrects. “Or they, or whatever.”

“It’s gonna be a boy, I can feel it.”

Tinaya chuckles, and steps deeper into the office to admire the garden. She takes a deep breath, accepting the sweet scent of the jasmine overpowering all other flowers in the room. There is lavender here too, as well as... She smiles, and gently runs her fingers along the petals. “Lilacs. Nice.”

“She’ll never see ‘em, but I figured I might as well remind you of one of your friends since she’s one of the few people you know named after things.”

“I appreciate that. I can’t believe you did all this.” It’s a little bittersweet, seeing the fruits of Lataran’s solo labor, knowing that in another reality, they worked on it together. But it probably would have been too much, and couldn’t have gotten done, due to her split focus with Silveon, Waldemar, and the ship as a whole. This was likely the best call, and a very lovely gesture. “I love you, Admiral Keen.”

“I love you, Captain Leithe II.” To Tinaya’s knowledge, she’s the only one on this tin can to call her Leithe II. People don’t really talk about the fact that she’s a legacy, and Tinaya doesn’t think too much about it herself. Truthfully, she’s always identified more with Admiral Perran Thatch, who wasn’t even ever a captain. What will it feel like when she reaches his rank, and if he were here today, what would he think of her?

“There’s one more thing that I need to show you,” Lataran says after giving her friend some time to soak in the beauty. She deliberately closes and locks the door to the hallway, even though not many people are authorized to be down here, and even fewer ever actually exercise that authority. She leads Tinaya up to the mezzanine level, and over to what appears to be a random spot along the catwalk, though it does seem to be intentionally behind the canopy of the maple. Lataran carefully looks around, apparently paranoid about looky-loos. No one could be here right now, though. There’s a self-contained teleportation controller on all high executive areas, like this and the captain’s stateroom. You can’t just show up unannounced.

“What are we—”

“Shh!” Lataran scolds in a loud whisper before transitioning into a regular whisper. “This is illegal. Very illegal.” She looks around once more, then kneels down to tap on the wall where it meets the floor. Glyphs glow faintly upon contact, but disappear quickly. After she’s finished inputting the secret access code, a square on the pathway disappears, revealing a hole leading to a very small room below. It’s more like a pod, but maybe for a few people. Minimal lighting flickers on automatically.

Tinaya looks over the edge of the catwalk. She recalls seeing the space under this from below. There’s no room here; it’s just more flowers and fake grass. The pod room must be in a pocket dimension of some kind.

“Trickle charged power reservoir, sourced gradually from the grid,” Lataran still whispers as she’s climbing down the ladder. “Undetectable as long as you don’t operate this too frequently, or for too long.”

“Operate what?” Tinaya asks, respecting the whisper.

“Come down here. And push that green button to close the door.”

Once Tinaya’s at the bottom, she looks down at the floor, and realizes that they’re standing in an undecagon, which is the same shape as the Nexus chamber, though that one is much larger. It’s an atypical number of sides to use for a room, so it’s either only an homage to that, or something more. “What the hell is this?” she questions, hoping that it’s the former.

“Backdoor Nexus access. From here, you can go back and forth to Verdemus without anyone else knowing. I know you left some people there.”

“This is illegal.”

“D’uh, I said that earlier.”

“I thought you just had alcohol down here, or something?”

“What? Gross! No. Omega built this here in case the main Nexus building were ever compromised by a corrupt government, or just some asshole.”

“How is this even possible? I thought that these machines had to be built to exact specifications.”

“They do,” Lataran agrees, “but once you do that, you can add satellite locations. Omega says that one of the floors above the control room serves the same purpose, but you can’t get there unless the gods let you in, or some shit. They have to like you, unless you wanna build your own backdoor, which is what he did here.”

“This isn’t okay, Lataran.”

“Okay, have me arrested,” she goads in a mocking voice.

Tinaya sighs. “You know I can’t do that. But I can’t use this either.”

“You don’t have to, but it’s here, and you had a right to know, and now that you do, you can decide whether anyone else does, like your husband, or your successor.”

“Okay, I’m leaving.” Tinaya reaches back up for the ladder. “Thanks for telling me. Let’s never talk about it ever again.”

“Very well.”

They start to climb back up until Tinaya finds herself face to face with Spirit Bridger. “Oh, crap.”

“Oh, crap, to you too,” Spirit jokes.

“Sorry, I just didn’t expect to find you here,” Tinaya says as she’s pushing herself back onto solid ground, and helping Lataran up behind her. “You were on Verdemus.”

“I was,” Spirit confirms, “but as you know, we have this little thing called a Nexus, which lets us travel back and forth.”

“That’s only become more regulated, and more difficult to pull off over the last few years,” Tinaya contends.

“Until now.” She jerks her chin toward the baby Nexus below them, the entrance of which waits a few more seconds before sealing itself off with its metamorphic nanites.

“You came through here?” Lataran searches through her armband. “I should have received an alert if anyone had done that, and there are a number of redundancies.”

Spirit smiles and slides a finger along the wall next to her. “There’s a direct power connection between the main Nexus and the satellite. We can appear anywhere along that pathway. The fact that you ran it along the scope of almost the whole ship means that’s just about anywhere. Can’t go back from anywhere, though...hence, I’m here.”

“That’s a security flaw,” Lataran points out.

“Indeed,” Spirit agrees.

Lataran looks back down at the floor. “I need to speak with Omega about that.”

“You’re too busy,” Tinaya reminds her. We’re approaching the transitional period, where we’ll end up with a new captain. Spirit can go coordinate with the Strongs to patch the vulnerability. Right, Spirit? You were going back there anyway.”

“Precisely,” Spirit replies.

“Then it’s settled.” Tinaya faces Spirit. “Play it close to the vest, please. We’ll keep the circle tight on our end too. Now, I gotta go. Silvy is getting out of school soon.”

“How’s the little bug?” Spirit asks.

“Precocious,” Tinaya replies, being honest, but still protecting yet another secret.

They say their goodbyes, and then Tinaya does head off to greet her son in the stateroom after school. But then she hands him off to Zefbiri shortly thereafter. It’s date night tonight. A normal couple with a five-year-old child would have to take breaks like this to make sure they don’t get burnt out on parenting, but while they don’t live with the same worries, they do have others. As Silveon grows, he becomes more and more capable of caring for himself, and inches closer and closer to whatever age he truly was when this started, but for now, he needs breaks too. He can be more himself with his parents, but he also has to be a certain way around them. It’s just different when it comes to his aunts. Zef was made aware of the situation a couple years ago. It didn’t make much sense for them to rely on her for guardianship responsibilities when she didn’t even understand who she might one day have to raise. Tinaya and Arqut are also aging, and could honestly be gone someday soon. The whole point is to be prepared.

The two of them are smiling at each other from opposite sides of the table, taking small bites here and there. A white tablecloth is covered in small plates which once held a dozen courses, each one a fairly small portion. A thistle bot has been serving them, and all the other guests are NPCs, which he programmed to ignore the humans. Thistle is still in the closet as a true, independent intelligence, and has been doing well. He can keep a secret, so they sometimes come to this simulation room for private conversations which can look like anywhere. This particular conversation has been pleasant, noncontroversial, and currently in a lull. Tinaya can tell that he wants to say something. “Go on, love. What is it? I know there’s something on your mind.”

He nods, and averts his gaze a small degree to the side. “Do you remember when I disappeared, and had that adventure on Earth in the future?”

“Yes, I remember. I’m constantly worried that that lemonhead will decide to steal you away from us again.”

“I took precautions,” Arqut insists. “It’s not about that. It’s about what happened to me while I was there.” He prepares himself. “I absorbed a ton of temporal energy, which I believed would harmlessly evaporate from me over time. We believe that that’s exactly how it would have worked had I stayed on Earth, but this...ship is a capsule, built with an incidental barrier of temporal energy of its own, zipping through space at hyper-relativistic speeds. There was nowhere for it to evaporate. Don’t worry, it doesn’t hurt, but I’ve been in contact with Dr. Cernak and Sabine Lebeau. It seems that my body has been metabolizing it, and altering me on a genetic level. They’re calling me a chosen one, though I may be something entirely different since the energy I took came from an eclectic group of time travelers, so we just don’t really know.”

“What does this mean? Can you...do something?”

“Don’t freak out.” Arqut sits very still. As his wife is watching him, the wrinkles in his face flatten out. His skin gets its glow back, and his hair turns dark once more. In seconds, he looks as young as he was when they first met.

You’re a retroverter,” Tinaya determines.

“Hopefully,” he says. “Obviously, I can do it to myself, and Sabine and Radomil are working on making it transferable. They’ll figure it out, and when they do, it means that we could start over. We could raise our son as twentysomethings; healthy and lively again. We may even be able to live forever. I know, I should have told you sooner, but this could be so good for us. What do you think? Are you interested?”

Tinaya daintily taps the cloth napkin against her lips before calmly laying it across her most recent plate. Still, she waits to respond, first staring him in the face for an uncomfortably long time. Finally, she quite confidently says, “no.”

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Microstory 2305: Not Some Big Scam

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I finished this stage script, and that’s what I’m mostly concerned about now. The novel is great so far, but I think that has more to do with Nick’s own imaginative mind. The musical, on the other hand, is a tool. It’s one last gift from him to us, and according to these version logs, he’s been developing it pretty much the whole time he’s been here. There are certain people in the multiverse who can travel to other branes, as he calls them, but there’s no way to contact most of them out of the blue. Could you imagine how difficult that would be? I mean, none of us even knew that the bulk existed until he showed up. But this musical, it’s our one chance. It’s an opportunity to prove that he was right all along, and this was not some big scam. A man by the name of Joseph Jacobson has a magical multicolored coat, which allows him to cross these dimensional barriers. Normally, he goes wherever he wants, whenever he wants. But he can sort of be summoned if you please him with a performance that depicts his life. His story has evidently been altered and adapted so many times, it’s not a hundred percent accurate of what happened, but that’s apparently not an issue. He just wants it to be good, and worthy of his time. This script is the first step in that endeavor. With Nick gone, it will be up to us to put it into production. That’s the next chapter in my life. I’m gonna produce this play, and prove once and for all that Nick was right. So...who’s with me?

Microstory 2304: Blisteringly Cold

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People have been asking a lot about the Nick and Dutch KC Memorial Forum that’s coming up in the next couple of days, and really, I don’t have that much information about it. There’s a website where you can learn all you need to know. Or it’s a page on the metro website, or something. Please go find out about it from there. I am not organizing it. I compiled a list of everyone Nick and Dutch knew, or rather, everyone I knew that they knew. I left it up to the mayors to have their teams reach out to these people. It’s true that, out of everyone, I was one of the closest to them both, but they each had their relationships outside of this whole thing. Dutch has lived on this planet his whole life, and Nick met a surprisingly high number of people during his short stint. You’ll remember his assistant at the jail, and his parole officer. They knew him in their own way, and while I’m not sure if they’ll be speaking at the Forum, I know that they were at least asked. I will be one of the speakers, and I haven’t updated you on that either, because there’s really nothing to say. You’ll hear it on Saturday along with everyone else. If you live in the area, you may join us on the fairgrounds north of the Missouri River, but we understand if you can’t make it. The weather report says that it’s going to be blisteringly cold. They chose that spot, because it can accommodate a lot of people, but just like the Chicago memorial, you can stream it from the comfort of your home instead. It’s a BYOC (bring your own chair) type of situation, which might deter a few people. Could you imagine if the coordinators had to wrangle up enough chairs for everyone? They don’t even have a headcount. I believe that, all they ask is, if you don’t have a chair—or aren’t willing to sit on the cold ground—to head more towards the back. I don’t think it will be all too long, though. There aren’t a million speakers. Okay, I’ve told you more than I really wanted to take the time to do. Again, if you want details, look it up on the webpage. Thanks.

Microstory 2303: To Distract Myself

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You know how it goes, the company you work for gives out branded flash drives during their end-of-the-year party, but it’s not enough space, so you buy another. Then you lose it for a few months, so you have to replace it, but then you find the first one again. Then you make a large purchase, and portable storage is the easiest way to hand over all the relevant paperwork, instead of a big binder, or something. But the flash drive I found last night wasn’t just in a drawer of his desk. It was hidden in the little cavity for the electrical outlet. You may ask yourself, why would I go diggin’ around in there in the first place unless I knew that it was a hiding spot? Well, I’m gonna put this place up for sale at the end of the year, so before that, a lot of little things need to be fixed. I remembered seeing a box of cover plates in the garage, and decided that I might as well replace the one in Nick’s room, because the corner was chipped. Of course it wasn’t a priority, but I’m finding myself coming up with excuses to put off sorting through their stuff, and this was one thing I could try to distract myself. I’m glad I did, or some random stranger would have discovered it years from now. I was kind of expecting to find porn on it, but not really, because he was never ashamed to be a real human being. It turned out to be a folder with two main documents, and what appear to be accessory research files. One is an unnamed novel, but I don’t know what it’s about yet. The other is a stage play called Joseph and His Dreamcoat. It sounds familiar, but I searched for it online, and didn’t find any references. I’ll be reading them both this week to see what we’re working with. I would love to publish them posthumously, however that works.

Microstory 2302: Still Feel So Lonely In Here

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You may have noticed that I’ve not been talking much about the KC memorial at the end of this week. That’s because I’ve had to step back from it. The mayors of KCMO and KCK have been working on it through their own teams. I’m still involved, I answer questions, but I just can’t do too much. I can’t let this all drag on like it has been. I’ll be there, it’s okay, I’ll be there. But I don’t want to be too involved anymore. I realized that I have something else to do before it’s over, which is to do something with Nick and Dutch’s private spaces. Neither of them were big collectors of belongings. I don’t need a moving company to haul stuff away, but I also don’t wanna create a shrine to them, even incidentally. I am thinking about moving, though. This house was already too big for the three of us, and only made sense because of our security team. They’re still here, protecting their one remaining charge, but I still feel so lonely in here. I mean, this whole place reminds me of the two of them anyway, so why would I make myself stick around? That reminds me, I should discuss the elephant in the room. I want to make it clear that I do not blame the security team for what happened. It was a freak accident, no one did anything wrong. Those roads were slick, and I looked it up; they’re not the only ones to suffer from that particular stretch of highway. People think of bodyguards as these supernatural beings with no room for error. They’re still just humans. They’re fallible, and they’re fragile, and they can die. They did die. The firm lost just as many of their people as I did of mine. I’ve always felt that we are commiserating together. So no, I’m not going to fire them, and I’m not going to sue them. It was a terrible tragedy, which I’m choosing to not make worse by seeking some undue form of vengeance.

Microstory 2301: Green Burial

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The remains. I’ve not told you anything about the remains. No, they weren’t at the memorial service. We left them in Kansas City. I decided that I wanted to lay them to rest on a solo mission. In between all the other planning that I’ve done, with the memorial service, and the other memorial service locally, I contacted all the necessary people to do it the way he wanted. One of the first things he told me when we met earlier this year was that he wanted a green burial, which means no casket, no chemicals, no clothing. Your body returns to the Earth in the purest way imaginable, breaks down as fast as possible, and breathes new life into the soil. There are obviously rules about this, like where you can do it, and I got all the permits. I’m not going to tell you where I buried him, but I did it all by myself after signing it out of the funeral home. That part wasn’t by Nick’s request. It’s something that I felt I needed to do alone. Everything else involves other people, so I just made an executive decision that this was the time when I would say goodbye in my own way, and not be around anyone else. I dug the grave, I lowered him down, and I filled it in. I feel that I accomplished something, and now maybe I can move on...maybe. Goodbye, Nick. You meant more than I could ever say.

The Advancement of Mateo Matic: June 26, 2478

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Ramses frantically searched through the operation logs, trying to figure out where Romana could have gone off to, but this ship wasn’t originally designed for time or instantaneous travel. He has had to develop the new navigation system from scratch, and that wasn’t something that he could just sit down and code. Like the explorers of yore, he needed information, and the only way to get it would be to go out and blaze the trails first. It wasn’t ready. None of this was ready, and he was freaking out again, feeling like a failure. He spent all day on it, and then the computers worked on it without him for a year. Nothing. They needed new avenues of data collection.

They had given Romana a communication disc, and her own IMS, but she wasn’t wearing an upgraded substrate, so she didn’t enjoy an emotional bond with the others. That was probably why she spun off alone, leaving everyone else behind. What they realized they needed to do now was determine whether the tether worked for any of them. Perhaps they couldn’t find her because it didn’t work at all, or perhaps they just didn’t know what they were doing yet. Since the Vellani Ambassador was preoccupied by a proverbial level three diagnostic, they were gonna have to do this themselves.

“How far should I go?” Mateo’s helmet was locked in, but his visor was still up.

“As far as you can,” Leona answered as she was making sure there weren’t any leaks in his suit. “We’ll instruct you from here.”

Marie was doing the same for Olimpia. “Just make sure you’re going in opposite directions. You head towards the sun. Pia, go for Pluto.”

“Got it,” Olimpia confirmed, jerking her head down as her visor dropped as if the gesture had caused it to happen. She quickly switched the helmet to depth hologram mode, which essentially turned the whole thing invisible.

Mateo did the same, then walked over to her. They reached out with their right arms, and slammed them against each other. “See you on the other side, love.”

“Not if I see you first.” Olimpia quickly let go, and spun around before disappearing.

Mateo tipped himself over backwards, and disappeared at the last second before hitting the floor. He found himself floating in orbit over Castlebourne. He hung there for a moment, just to admire the view. Then he pushed himself into burst mode, and jumped as far from the planet as he could. He went a few degrees off the host star, but eventually passed it, and kept it at its back. He stayed in contact with his friends, especially Olimpia, who was making good time too. He was starting to get tired, but he never said anything, and never gave up.

“Okay, kids, you’re far enough,” Leona began over comms. “Switch off your beacons, and go radio silent. Choose a new direction in secret, and keep going for another ten minutes. Zig zag if you want, just don’t tell us where you are. Only make contact in an emergency.”

“Roger, boss,” Olimpia replied.

“Understood,” Mateo added. “Going dark now.” He did as he was asked, then started teleporting again, somewhat perpendicular to the orbital plane. It wasn’t a perfect ninety degree angle, though. He was on his way sort of back towards the sun, but on the scenic route. He did zig a few times, and even zagged, but kept mostly on a straight line. Ten minutes later, he stopped jumping, and just let himself drift. It took a lot out of him, so he drank some water, and some dayfruit smoothie. He thought about watching the next episode of American Housewife on the queue to pass the time, but he was supposed to be darklurking. Even a little extra heat waste could alert the team to his location. Ramses wanted to design miniature heat shunt pocket dimensions for their suits, but it was low on the priority list at the moment. They were supposed to ignore such old school tracking techniques anyway, but it was best to not tempt fate.

Less than thirty minutes later, a suited somebody appeared out of nowhere, and tackled Mateo. “Tag, you’re it!” Angela cried through helmet conduction.

“It worked?” Mateo asked. “You could sense my location?”

“It did. Turn your comms back on. Marie already found Olimpia. She turned right around, and came back towards the planet to trick us, so she was pretty close again.”

“I thought about doing that,” Mateo said for all to hear.

“I’m glad we both didn’t do the same thing,” Olimpia decided.

Outer space and the sun suddenly disappeared to be replaced by the interior of the Vellani. They were back in the airlock. Ramses walked in. “That confirms it, we can find each other, but not Romana.”

“Theories,” Marie asked, “besides the obvious that the tether’s range is limited, and we are limited in our ability to test it?”

“Everyone be quiet,” Ramses ordered. “Just close your eyes and ears, and listen with your mind. Think about her, and only her. You should hear something.”

They did as he said. It took Mateo a moment, but there was something. It wasn’t Romana’s location, but it was something. It was like...static? Some sort of noise. It wasn’t constant, though, like television snow. There were blips, and if they were exhibiting a pattern, surely one of the smarties would be able to translate it.

“Calibration delay,” Leona finally figured.

“That’s right,” Ramses agreed. “At least I think so.”

“What does that mean?” Olimpia asked.

“The tether has to take a moment to recalculate its connections each time there’s a significant change in position of one of its nodes, e.g. one of us. We could feel it as you two were teleporting away from us. Of course, since you were still relatively close, there wasn’t much of a delay...”

“But if Romana went a lot further or farther, it will take a lot longer for us to pinpoint her location,” Angela realized. “But it’s been quite a while. How long are we expecting it to take?”

Ramses took a moment to respond. “The calibration should be measured in seconds, even at the furthest reaches of time and space. The reason we can’t find her is probably because she’s not staying in one place. She’s in constant flux.”

“Like my sister, Aquila,” Mateo guessed.

“I wouldn’t know anything about that,” Ramses said. “It was before my time, but maybe. If our hypothesis is correct, Romana is truly lost in time.”

“What could we possibly do from here?” Marie asked. “Could we—I dunno...try to match her energy?”

Leona smiled. “That’s a nice thought. If we intentionally became as erratic as her, we might end up in the same temporal dimension. Unfortunately, that wouldn’t work. If anything, it would make it worse by triggering more calibration than our tethers should be expected to calculate.”

“So, what do we do?” Mateo pressed. “How do we find my daughter?”

Leona and Ramses were silent.

“What do we do!” Mateo repeated himself in a raised voice.

“I don’t know,” Ramses admitted.

Mateo finally removed his helmet, and dropped it on the floor. He tried to walk towards his best friend, but the helmet slid along right behind him. “Goddamn proximity control magnets. Tethers will be the death of me!” He hastily turned off the feature to cut his stalker loose, so he could talk to Ramses in peace. “Do whatever you have to do. Tear that machine apart and put it back together backwards, take every ounce of temporal energy from me, call a time god; I don’t care. Find her.”

Ramses briskly walked out of the room, presumably to comply.

“What? Do you think I was too harsh?” Mateo questioned the room.

“Ram’s okay,” Leona assured him. “He understands that he doesn’t understand what it’s like to have a kid. That being said, it doesn’t give you the right to treat friends like enemies, so make sure you keep your eyes peeled for that line, lest you cross it.”

“Okay.” Mateo put his helmet back on. “I’ll be on the roof.” He teleported outside and activated his boot magnets to stay in place. The ship was moving at very low subfractional speeds to get back to the planet. There wasn’t any reason to jump back there instantaneously, even though they obviously could with ease. He stared into the abyss, and when he grew tired, he lay down and watched the stars above him.

A clanking of boots approached him. Someone else wearing an IMS appeared in his view. They switched on their hologram to make themselves look like Romana.

“I don’t need role play therapy, whoever you are,” he contended, forgetting to turn his comms on. “I’ll tell her whatever I need to tell her when I see her for real.”

The way Angela talked to him before, by placing her helmet against his, was a way to send soundwaves into each other’s air spaces since they wouldn’t make it across the vacuum. This was a really great way for two people to communicate without involving anyone else. Theoretically, any signal could be hacked one way or another. In an atmosphere, even if there were no electronic or mechanical devices nearby, maybe someone was eavesdropping. Helmet conduction was probably the safest way to keep a secret that was ever invented, as long as everyone kept their radios off, which was true of Mateo in this case. This mystery person didn’t need to crouch down and place their helmets directly together, though. They took out a device that was specifically designed for it. They stuck one patch on their own visor, extended the second patch out with the retractable wire, and stuck the second one on his. “I really am Romana.”

“They found you?” Mateo asked, still not sure if he believed it.

She sat down next to him as he was sitting up. “No, not yet. But they will.”

“Tell me how we do it in the future, so we can just do it faster this time.”

“It doesn’t work like that,” she replied. “Rambo has to go through the whole process. I only came back in time to alleviate your stress.”

He stared at her for a moment, then looked away. “You’re not really her.”

“You really think one of your friends would trick you? Plus, I just read your mind.”

“If you’re from the future, you would know them better than me.”

“I’m not from that far in the future,” she claimed. “But here’s the funny thing, we never did run that DNA test, did we? The girl you met the other day might not have ever really been Romana. Or maybe she was, but her history wasn’t true in the first place. Because you actually never ran a DNA test, meaning Romana the baby was never necessarily your child in the first place. It could be Silenus’ baby instead, and the whole embryo being passed down the matrilineal line was a giant lie. Or you do have a baby, and she’s out there somewhere, or she was, or she will be, and we cloned her, and inserted someone else into the copy. Or someone else cloned her, and I’m the real one, and every version you’ve met until now has been an impostor.”

“Okay, okay, I get it. You never really know someone.”

“All we can do is our best,” she added.

“I thought you were supposed to make me feel better. How is this helping?”

“I am, and it is. Here’s the lesson; you’re an advancer. The whole point of you as a salmon was to force you to jump through time, leaving everyone behind. Other time travelers leave their families in their own pasts, but they usually do it all at once, like ripping off an adhesive bandage. You did it gradually, giving you time to watch them slip through your fingers. You should be used to it by now. If you never see me again, you’ll be okay. You have three other daughters, and a son. You didn’t raise them either.”

“Again, your pep talk isn’t working. The fact that I don’t know any of my own kids is not a point of pride. It is my great shame.”

She sighed and nodded as she watched Castlebourne grow larger and larger. She removed a silver business card from her arm cache, and handed it to him. It clinked a little, and felt hard, like metal, instead of paper, but it appeared to be blank. “I’m not really here to make you feel better. That’s not something I could ever do. You lost out on fifteen years with me. I’ve had exactly that much time to come to terms with it. You haven’t. Activate that whenever you’re feeling upset, and need to talk to someone who understands. Most rendezvous cards are single use, but this one is permanent.”

“This is therapy? Who’s it with? Dr. Hammer?”

She smiled with teeth. “Good guess. She’s the facilitator, but it’s more of a support group, full of people who have gone through what you have. I’m sure your story beats ‘em all, but they’ll be a great resource just the same.”

“They all lost their children in general,” he pressed, “or time travel took them?”

“The second one,” she promised. “Some of them are the travelers, some of them were the ones left behind. Some are both.”

He frowned at her. “How long will it take Ramses and Leona to find you? When will you close this loop?”

Mateo’s comms disc pinged, so he opened a channel. “Mateo, come back inside, I figured something out,” Ramses said.

Romana helped her father up from the hull. “Won’t be long now. You go first. I don’t want you to see me leave again. It must be so traumatizing by now.”

After a quick hug, he disappeared, but he secretly jumped back outside to watch her from a distance. Dark particles. That was how she came here, and how she left. This somehow all involved Buddy Citrus. Realizing that there was nothing he could do about that at the moment, he went back to the group inside.

Ramses presented them with something that they all recognized. It was the little machine that scientists in the Fifth Division designed to help them locate each other before, back when Dalton Hawk separated them to all the five realities. “The original is long gone, but I still have the specs, so I printed a new one. This is how we’re gonna find your girl. All I need to do is figure out how to interface it with the slingdrive.”

Mateo stepped out of the armor module of his IMS. He stumbled back  a little like a newborn fawn, bracing himself on the wall before leaning against it. “Do it.”

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