Extremus: Year 119

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Decades ago, Tinaya and Arqut connected their lives together through a lifelink. When one of them gets hurt, so too will the other. They weren’t sure if the procedure had worked, because it wasn’t always reliable. There were times when one was sick, and the other was not. It was never really the point, though. This is why they did it. They have just died at the exact same time, which is rare on this ship. Everything that they were dealing with—all the trials and tribulations—it’s all behind them now. Their son is technically older than them, and this isn’t the first time that he had to say goodbye to his parents. Silveon will be okay without them, armed with his memory of future events, and a lifetime’s worth of knowledge and wisdom. He and Audrey bid farewell and let them go, as did everyone else here who deserved it. Now they can move on. Now they can finally rest.

There is one thing left to do, however. It is time to answer The Question. Tinaya has known about it for many years, and eventually told her family. It’s a secret from just about everyone else, though. It violates a major principle of the Extremus mission, but again, they have known about it for so long, they’ve had plenty of time to come to terms with it. There is no way to know how many people answer yes, and how many answer no, because it should come as a surprise for most. At the moment of their deaths, Tinaya and Arqut’s consciousnesses were uploaded to a special server. If they agree, their minds will be put on ice for another century, until the Extremus planet is reached by their descendants. When it comes time to settle their new homeworld, everyone who answered yes will be downloaded into new substrates, and become part of the colonists. If the two of them were normal, it would feel instantaneous to them—assuming nothing destroyed the ship in the meantime. But they’re on a different track. When they say yes, they will be going somewhere else.

“Hello, and welcome to The Buffer,” a woman says warmly.

They were standing in the Attic Forest, though obviously a virtual simulation of it. The two recently deceased are now young again, which makes sense, and feels nice.

“Does everyone come to this place?” Tinaya asks. “The forest hasn’t always existed.”

The welcomer smiles. “You were clearly prepped beforehand, so I will skip the usual explanation. To answer your question, the simulation scans your thoughts, and generates what it believes will be the most pleasant and comforting place for you specifically. For most people, it looks something like this, as we all wish to find Extremus. For you, it sounds like it’s more specific. I hope it pleases the both of you. We don’t get many duos. I’m guessing it’s a lifelink?”

“Yes, and I helped build this place for real in base reality, as did my now-husband,” Tinaya explains, “so it’s important to us both.”

“Ah, yes. I have heard of you. Miss Leithe, right?”

“Admiral Emerita Leithe.” Tinaya doesn’t usually care about formalities, but it felt important to her to clarify her title in this case.

“Apologies. And you?”

“Superintendent Arqut Grieves. You didn’t know that we were coming?”

The woman shakes her head. Her voice is still calming. “I do not receive a manifest beforehand, or even an alert of a forthcoming arrival. My job is to ask you The Question without judgement or preconception. It doesn’t matter to me who you are, or who you were. You’re entitled to answer.”

“Who are you?” Tinaya asks, “Or, who were you, if you prefer?”

“I am Dr. Itri Meziani, thanks for asking,” she replies. “I was the Executive Grief Counselor many years ago.”

“Well, it’s very nice to meet you, Dr. Meziani.” Tinaya shakes her hand, then Arqut does.

“I suppose that you already know what I’m about to ask you, but I still must ask it,” Dr. Meziani says.

For a long time there, Tinaya intended on saying no to The Question. She only changed her mind relatively recently when Thistle showed her that her whole family line has been kept alive in base reality on an asteroid which Tinaya herself colonized and called Eleithium. It gave her some perspective. She doesn’t wanna die. The problem now is that Thistle is no longer the AI in charge, and they don’t know whether they will be rerouted to the colony, or just kept on ice with everyone else. Did he set it up so that it will happen automatically? Truthfully, she forgot to ask him before Oceanus stopped allowing their visits. Do they have to be honest with this Dr. Meziani about their sort of get out of jail free card? In the end, they decided to just come clean and tell the truth. They can’t risk something going wrong with the process. If it doesn’t work, they’ll just go on ice, and still be alive. All they know is that they’re not going to say no. They really want to see the Extremus planet, and they almost have to see Silveon again.

“We have somewhere else to be,” Arqut begins. “A friend of ours set up...an alternative option. I’m not sure how we go about getting there, though. He’s sort of...indisposed at the moment.”

“I can check for a rerouting subroutine,” Dr. Meziani says graciously, “but I can’t guarantee anything. If your friend can’t control it from the outside, I can’t get you there. It wouldn’t be that I wouldn’t want to. Again, it’s not my job to make judgments. You don’t have to do anything in particular. Hell, if you can will yourself back to life in your own body, go for it. But understand that there is a time limit. I can’t tell you what it is. It’s after five minutes following the next death, so that could be any second now. The Buffer must be kept open.” She looks to the left, presumably searching for the path that will take them to Eleithium, and hopefully finding it. She suddenly jerks her head to the right. “Something’s wrong.”

“What is it? Did you find it?” Arqut asks.

“Your time is up,” Dr. Meziana tells them. “Someone else just died.”

“But we have five more minutes,” Tinaya reminds her.

“No.” She starts breathing heavily, which doesn’t make sense given that there’s no air in this virtual environment. “You don’t.” Without warning, she pops away, leaving a faint puff of smoke behind.

A shadow appears in the trees in the distance. It’s moving in an eerie serpentine pattern, but drawing nearer. As it does so, its silhouette becomes clearer and clearer. Finally, it looks like a person, and soon after that, it looks like someone they know.

“Pronastus?” Tinaya questions. “You died?”

“Just for a few minutes,” Pronastus says in a weird tone that doesn’t really sound like him. “The flatline device that I found will revive me in about six minutes.”

“Did you have something to tell us?” Arqut presses.

“Or ask us?” Tinaya adds.

“You gave me the ability to do this,” Pronastus goes on. “You’re the one who helped me find the consciousness transference technology that I needed to hack in here. I was looking for it, but I could not find it, because it was for me. I can’t do anything for myself. I have to be searching for someone else. Fortunately, you never realized just how close you were to it. For reference, it was in a closet, in the first Frontrunner you teleported to; the one where you met AI!Elder.”

Oh, right. AI!Elder did say that there was a cool helmet in there. She should not have ignored that quip. “So you’re, uh...evil...errr...what’s goin’ on here?”

“What’s going on is that I am sick of doing everything for everyone else. I found a workaround, and it’s thanks to that helmet. Coming here was a necessary latent step, but not my endgame. I’m going to send my mind to another body. Bonus, I get to keep my pathfinding powers, and finally use them for myself!”

“What do we have to do with any of that?” Arqut spits.

“You know me,” Pronastus reasons. “You know me better than anyone. Others know that I’m a pathfinder, of course, but they don’t understand it. When Captain Jennings dies, I’ll have to make sure that he also answers no. I know what you’re thinking, but don’t worry about Silveon. He’s too preoccupied with his own life, I don’t feel threatened by him, so I don’t care what answer he gives when he dies. However, if any of you put yourselves on ice, and come back in a hundred years, you’ll see right through my disguise. I have long-term plans. Running the ship is just the first part of it. I don’t plan on ever dying, because that’s a retarded provision that our ancestors never should have decided upon or agreed to.”

“I don’t think you’re supposed to say that word.”

“That’s your issue? I’m about to straight up murder you, and you’re arguing with me about political correctness?”

“We’re not too worried,” Tinaya explains. “Tyrants like you and Waldemar always create their own resistance. It’s not gonna last. You may be a pathfinder, but eventually, you will run out of paths that lead you to joy. You’ll always want more, and it will be your downfall. Extremus will get through this. It suffered but survived Consul Vatal, and Ovan Teleres, and Mister Radomil Cernak. It will survive you too.”

Pronastus smirks. “Will it survive Waldemar?”

“You’re obviously undoing that timeline,” Tinaya replies.

“Am I?”

“Oh, shit. The clones.”

“The clones,” Pronastus confirms. “They were never made by him. What would be his reasoning?”

“No, that doesn’t make any sense. You needed me to ask you to lead me to the Frontrunners for the consciousness transference technology. That’s where I found the first clone. You didn’t know about it beforehand.”

Pronastus smirks again. “I’m not in this alone. Others know where the path should go, and have known that for decades. They just didn’t know that I would be the one to take the first step in the right direction. Eight. Eight. Eight,” he says in a low and intimidating voice.

“What?”

“Eight. Eight. Eight,” Pronastus repeats. Oh, it’s a weird chant. “Eight. Eight. Eight.” It kind of sounds like hate with all that breathiness. His watch beeps. “Oh, my time is up. Don’t wanna wake up with brain damage, do I?”

“We’ve not given an answer,” Arqut tries to reason. “How exactly are you gonna force us to give the wrong one?”

“You have a time limit, remember?” Pronastus says.

“But you’re the time limit, and you’re not really dead. You have to go back in a minute or so. I doubt the Buffer will force us out. I mean, it hasn’t yet.”

“I started the clock,” Pronastus begins. “The next death will stop it. Some overlap is acceptable, but not three death events.”

“How do you know there’s gonna be another death soon?”

One last smirk. “Because I caused it, just like I caused Détha’s. Trust me, I didn’t miss anything.”

“Who did you kill?” Tinaya demands to know.

Oh, no. This is his last smirk.

“Who did you kill!”

Pronastus winks, then disappears.

“Response window expired,” a disembodied computerized voice that they don’t recognize announces. “Answer null. Prepare for IDCode purge.”

“No!” Tinaya and Arqut exclaim. “We answer yes! We answer yes!” Tinaya continues.

“Mom?” Silveon asks, having just appeared before them.

“NO!” they both repeat. Everything turns black.

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Microstory 2565: Would-be Assassin

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I do not care about Landis Tipton. He was in the wrong place at the wrong time. I never wanted to kill him. I wanted to kill the disease that he’s carrying. I still do, and one day, I’ll get out of here, and finish my mission. About five years ago, I was minding my own business, cleaning our streets, when five randos showed up and started talking about trying to make me “a better man”. I’m already who I ever needed to be. I answered my calling when I was sixteen years old, and I’ve never regretted it. I’ve never regretted anything, except letting them get away... I allowed them to try their new psychology on me because I didn’t understand that they had magical powers, and by the time I realized that they were the real deal, I couldn’t stop them. They started messing with my head; making me see things that weren’t there, and feel things that I didn’t want to feel. I tried to fight back, but they used their witchcraft to subdue me. It took everything I had in my soul to break free. They would get tired, you know. Their abilities don’t work forever, so I was able to overpower them eventually. I was so angry. They didn’t get who I was. There was nothing broken in me. I thought they were going to make me better at my job, but they wanted me to give it up. Not only that, but they wanted to convince me to turn myself in! Can you believe that? After all their talk about a holistic healing, it wasn’t to make a difference, because in their minds, I belonged in jail anyway. Well, as they were screaming for their lives, they told me that I would feel better about myself, even while I was locked up, but I couldn’t have it. They somehow knew what I did, and I couldn’t let them keep on living, or they would tell everyone. I’m not even entirely sure if they did, but it was too much of a risk after my failure, so I went into hiding. I went into deep hiding. I was so far off the grid that I had no clue what was going on with the rest of the world. No radio, no TV, no phone. I was trying to lay low for a while so when I came back out, no one would be looking for me. I don’t think that my attackers knew my identity; they just knew what I had done using their voodoo woowoo. Anyway, I was badly injured, ironically enough, and it was bad enough that I had to go into town to get supplies. That was when I saw the headline. It was about this guy who could heal people. One of my attackers healed me, because they didn’t want me to be physically injured. They were more into the mental torment. I knew he had something to do with it. Maybe he was one of their sons, or whatever. I did some more research, and pieced together that he must have gotten all of their powers. I don’t know how, I don’t know why, but they likely went into hiding too, and I had no idea who they were, so how was I gonna find them? I figured he was the next best thing. I soon caught wind that he was gonna make an appearance on a talk show, so that was my opportunity. I had it all planned out perfectly, but I underestimated the amount of security they would have for a guy who seemingly can’t even die. They caught me. They didn’t even publicize it, which will make it easier when I try again, so that’s a plus, I guess. People love this guy, but I know that its all part of his plot to lull us into complacency. He won’t get away with it. They never do...not when I’m involved.

Microstory 2564: Protester

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This is ridiculous. I can’t believe how small our movement is. It’s growing, but not nearly fast enough. Landis Tipton is not all that he’s made out to be. Sure, curing all disease sounds great, but there are major issues with it that not everyone can see. First of all, we have no idea what long-term health consequences there are from being healed. He could be giving everyone cancer. Cancer is when your cells multiply out of control, and even if you claim that he has control over the repairs while he’s breathing on them, what happens five years later, or ten, or thirty? We don’t know. They haven’t done nearly enough studies on the subject. He just bought a freaking hotel, and people just flocked there like he was a god. Some people actually believe he is a god, which is another issue, though we don’t argue that in our literature, or during our demonstrations, because it’s a sensitive subject. What’s not sensitive, and what every single person needs to understand, is that so much of our economy is centered around health and wellness. I know it sounds cold, but disease and deaths are necessities in life. I’m sorry, but it’s true. Medical professionals, food vendors, funeral homes, insurance companies, nutritionists and dieticians, fitness trainers, pharmaceutical companies. Hell, even personal injury law firms. There are so many others. They all rely on a world that isn’t perfect, and they do not exist in a vacuum. When you take all those things down, what happens to everything else? It doesn’t work. It falls apart. Again, I may sound callous to you, but you have to think about the ramifications of your actions. Landis, and this goddamn panacea they’re trying to make, is going to do more harm than good, and I firmly believe that. Now, if we had a universal basic income, and if we had more robust automation, I might think it’s okay. But we are woefully unprepared for what’s to come. We are not ready for the paradigm shifting changes that this drug will make. We’re holding it at bay, because Landis Tipton is only one man so his impact on these sectors is minimal. But if that’s about to change, we are royally, totally, and fundamentally screwed. I don’t think you can imagine what’s going to happen to the world. No one’s gonna be able to afford the panacea when they lose their jobs. “Oh, we’ll make it free.” I’ve heard no confirmation on that, and it introduces a plethora of other issues. It will be a logistical nightmare. This has to be stopped right now. We cannot let it move on. We can let Landis do his thing, but his work schedule has to be severely shrunk, and research on this miracle cure has to end immediately! People think I’m crazy, and an asshole, but honestly—and I don’t really like to say this—but I’m smarter than you. I’m telling you, bad things are going to come of this. It will not lead us to the paradise you’ve been sold. Sell it back, it’s not worth it. Please. Please!

Microstory 2563: Injured Visitor

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Let me start with my backstory, so you’ll understand why I was at the Foundation in the first place, because it wasn’t to be healed. It’s a complex situation that my family has been grappling with for years, and questioning whether we should attempt to correct the issue since Landis Tipton first showed up. My brother was born with a genetic condition known as T21. Its full name is hard to type out and pronounce, but it’s also often known as Trisomy 21. This is when the patient develops an extra copy of chromosome 21, and it results in a particular facial look, as well as neurological differences. My brother is a functioning young adult, who can put his own clothes on in the morning, and make his own meals. There are things he struggles with, though. He doesn’t need anyone to take care of him—he’s not going to forget to breathe—but he does need some help. It has been hard for him to learn skills that others take for granted, like managing his finances, and navigating the world around him. The biggest problem he faces is discrimination. He has needed assistance finding work, and keeping it, because people don’t understand him. They don’t understand that, while he’s not so good in an interview, he’s good at the work that he’s looking for, he can follow directions to a T, and he’ll never let you down. They keep firing him, because he doesn’t want to engage in certain adult-oriented conversations, and I think that some people just don’t like the way he looks or talks. You can tell that he has T21, because of its defining characteristics, and instead of being accepting, they just want everyone to be the same. One other area he needs help with is healthcare, which is where I come in. He lives with me, and I accompany him on his appointments, which he needs, because he’s at a higher risk of developing true medical conditions. This is what happened. He now has Leukemia, and we’ve been treating it accordingly. We wanted to get him cured, but we were worried what it would do to him. What exactly are Mr. Tipton’s limits? What exactly is a “disease”?

Trisomy 21 is a part of who my brother is, and he does not need to be “cured” of it, but we weren’t sure if the healing process did consider it a disease. The literature says that Landis doesn’t control it. He breathes, and the breath cures everything. After further research, however, we felt assured that he would be all right. They called T21 a condition of state, and not within Mr. Tipton’s purview. As always, I took him to his appointment, and we stayed in a tent, with plans to be there for two nights while we waited. When we woke up one morning, my brother wanted to go on a walk, which we do regularly. Unfortunately, we are not familiar with this area, and didn’t know what to expect. I slipped on some wet leaves on a hill, tried to grab a log on instinct to keep from falling, and ended up with that log on top of me. I was impaled by a sharp snag. I told my brother to run for help while I, dazed and confused, pulled the snag off, stood up, and started limping back. Here was the new question, would Landis agree to help me since I was injured on the property? The answer was no, but he was not without mercy. He used his other gifts on me instead. He sang me to contentment, and soothed my pain through touch. This allowed me to make it to the hospital, which was pretty far away, without being in agony the whole time, but also without breaking their rule against healing injuries. They even let my brother cut in line, so he could get his cure in time to go with me in the ambulance. I think they keep an ambulance on hand now because of this incident, so that’s kind of cool.

Microstory 2562: Worshiper

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People are missing the point, and I am profoundly frustrated by it. I can barely put it into words. Landis Tipton is not a man. He’s not just a hero. He is a god. Do not mistake my words for metaphor. He is literally the earthly manifestation of a deity. I can prove it. If you just read the text, you’ll see that he checks all the boxes, and that he is the embodiment of the one who created us. I was not very religious growing up, and that’s because people were just telling me things. They didn’t have any evidence of anything. They simply said, “this happened in the past.” And I’m all, “how do you know?” And they’re, like, “they wrote it down.” So I respond, “it’s been proven that they were written down no sooner than decades after the events supposedly happened.” “Well, you see, time—” Blah, blah, blah. You haven’t shown me anything. Anyone can write anything down, it doesn’t mean it’s true. But Landis Tipton? He’s true. He’s definitely real, and I know this, because I’ve seen it. Well, I haven’t personally seen it up close, but I keep trying. I keep trying to become a patient advocate, because I don’t qualify for a healing myself, but no one will hire me, or even train me. I get too excited, and honest, and people know how much I love him, so they stop me. They’re demons, is what they are. They’re keeping me from my bêlovèd, because they know that he only gets stronger when he’s surrounded by his devotees. That’s what I call myself. Others may call me a worshiper at best, or a nutjob at worst, but I don’t care. I know that Landis is the truth, and the way. He made our world, and gave us the chance to suffer, or to not, and we sadly chose the former. He wants us to have free will, but he wants us to live too, and to be happy. So instead of ordering us to change, or even simply snapping his divine fingers, and making it so, he returned to give us a new choice. We can devote ourselves to him, and be cured in the spirit of our savior, or we can reject him, and die. That’s not a threat, it’s an inevitability. Think about it. Death isn’t just this thing that happens at the end of your life. It’s always caused by something. That’s just science. If he can cure everything, there’s no reason for anyone to die. It’s only been five years, but come on, our immortality in the divine light is obviously where this all leads. How can you not see it? He’s not curing diseases, you morons. He’s ending death! I swear, the people who only see the present, and don’t realize what this all really means. It’s so clear. It’s not even a puzzle that you have to solve. He’s already doing it, we just haven’t seen anyone live past 120 already, because there hasn’t been enough time. Wake up! Once you recognize his power, the next logical step is realizing that he is not only one man, healing one person at a time. He is giving us everything we need to be as sacred as him, and we don’t even need to stand in line for it. I think there’s a reason that I don’t need to be healed. He’s already done that for me, because of how devoted I am—because I am a true believer. I’ll prove that soon. I’ll prove to you that I can’t die. Just you wait and watch.

Microstory 2561: Filmmaker

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I worked with Genesis Ventura on a drama we made a few years ago called South Leaving. She had to learn an Ozark accent for that role, and she did very well with it. A lot of people don’t realize that before her most recent visit, she had been to Kansas, because we filmed some scenes in all three border states near South Leaving. It wasn’t as popular as some of the other things that she’s done, but she didn’t complain. She may seem like your average out-of-touch Hollywood star, but she has some real depth, and the craft is important to her. We’ve stayed friends since our project, so I was one of the first people she told about her meeting with Landis Tipton. I mean, she didn’t give details, but I can connect the dots. It suddenly clicked. I knew that I needed to do a biopic about him. They’re making a documentary, but this would be different. This would be a true story, but dramatized, and still scripted. That’s where I shine. The first thing I did was approach the Foundation’s publicist about securing Mr. Tipton’s life rights. She was hesitant to agree, but it wasn’t her decision, so she quickly brought in their lawyer. I have been working with the two of them, waiting for answers for a few weeks now. It’s unclear if they’ve talked with Mr. Tipton about it, but I’m worried about the answer. He’s known to be a very private person, but I think a lot of that has to do with his demanding work schedule. He did that one talk show interview recently, but he doesn’t have time to go on the circuit, or anything. That is going to be the toughest challenge. In order to tell his story the right way, I need access to the man, the legend. Being able to speak with his associates, and seeing him in action, won’t be enough to make this work. The way I frame it, someone is going to make this movie. Someone maybe already is working on it. In order to combat misinformation, they have to take control of the narrative. I can give them that. I’m very highly respected in the industry, and I’m known for my integrity. I’m going to tell the truth while not focusing on anything negative that might have happened in his past. I’m not here to expose the world to his whole life. The documentary can do that. I wanna know about the Foundation. I wanna know what’s happening right now. My contemporaries believe that it’s too early. His story isn’t ready yet. And to that I say...sequel, anyone? Biopics don’t usually get sequels, but I don’t see why not, especially when dealing with a living figure. Plenty of biographies come in multi-volume sets. If there’s too much story to tell, then find a way to tell it all without rushing it. I’m still holding onto the hope that he’ll say yes. I think it’s in his best interests to, but that’s for him to decide. All I can do is make my pitch.

The Advancement of Mateo Matic: August 17, 2530

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Séarlas and Franka were not Mateo and Leona’s children, but Mateo and Leona were their once-parents, and no one knew how to feel about that. A version of the two of them had twins in another timeline, but neither of them had memories of that. This Leona lost her babies in a terrible tragedy on an interplanetary ship that was breaking apart. They didn’t talk about it anymore, and she never said it out loud, but those were her kids, and the only way for her to get through the sadness was to believe that. The living Séarlas and Franka were some of the first people they saw when they started traveling through time, and had anticipated their births for years, only to have that dream pulled away from them. Them being here right now wasn’t some way of getting it back. It was just confusing and uncomfortable. That was why Mateo never pushed for a relationship with Aura or Mario. Neither of them raised him, nor even conceived him. To them, it had never happened, and trying to force a connection was worse than pretending there was nothing there at all, and just trying to be decent friends. The question was, what did these two think? Did they see it the same way?

“We don’t expect hugs from you,” Franka went on after letting the shock of the development run its course for a few moments.

“Hold on.” Ramses materialized some kind of little tool in his hand. “Do you mind?” he asked vaguely, holding it between him and the twins.

“Do what you must,” Franka agreed, pulling up her sleeve, and nodding for her brother to do the same.

Ramses used the tool to extract small samples from them. “I already have your DNA on file,” he said to Mateo and Leona while they waited for about fifteen seconds. It beeped. “I’m seeing a 92% familial match. That would be low confidence for today’s technology, but substrate variance would account for the difference. You two still have the core DNA that you were born with, but I spliced in some extra code.”

“So, they are our genetic children,” Mateo asked to confirm.

“Their bodies are,” Ramses clarified. “I have no idea about their minds. I never did figure out how to build a simpatico detector, not that that’s exactly what we’re after.”

“I see that our tactics have bred distrust between us,” Franka acknowledged.

“Ya think?” Olimpia asked. If these two could be categorized as Mateo and Leona’s kids, she would be their stepmother.

“Why do you think we took so long to introduce ourselves to you?” Pacey—no, Séarlas prompted.

“I’m guessing that you tried to do it earlier in other timelines, but it always went poorly,” Leona figured.

Franka smirked. “Yeah, you definitely get your intelligence from her.”

Mateo looked at Franka. “And you? You got my stupidity?”

Séarlas shook his head disapprovingly. “Your instincts. She got your instincts and intuition. You may not be as educated, and you may not have much interest in improving that, but you are the one who steers the team; not as a leader, but as a compass. Not only can you see a threat a mile away, but you can gauge how much of a threat it will be, and can adjust accordingly. You treated me and Boyd differently than you did Zeferino and Erlendr. You saw goodness in Arcadia when no one else did. Mateo, after Horace Reaver captured you and Leona, and kept you separate, he finally explained why he hated you so much. Do you remember how you reacted?”

“That was so long ago,” Mateo replied.

“You’re being modest,” Séarlas judged, “of course you remember. He told you that an alternate version of you in another timeline made a mistake, which got his wife killed. You have no recollection of that, because you didn’t do it. Yet after his story was over, you apologized. Do you know how few people would respond like that? So no, father, she didn’t get your stupidity. She got your heart.”

“Yes, so much love,” Olimpia jumped in again. “This is a living Rockwell painting.”

“We know things that you don’t,” Franka volleyed. “We’ve seen things.”

“I’ve seen a lot too,” Olimpia defended.

“I mean, our abilities allow us to try out timelines, and choose the best one,” Franka began. “This is not regular time travel where we have to go back to the point of divergence and try again. Time is a crossroads, and we have binoculars.”

“You’re seers?” Angela questioned. Seers were fairly common in their world, but none of them had actually met one in person, or even heard a name. People will just show up unexpectedly and it will be because a seer told them to be there.

Séarlas shook his head again. “Seers typically see one possible future, and if they don’t like it, they find a better one. We can see them all at once, but only from wherever we are when we’re looking. It’s not perfect, before you ask why we’re not all living in a utopia. The metaphorical binoculars only show us so much before things get fuzzy. We can walk down a given road to see further in the future, but once we do, we can’t walk backwards and try a different road. We have to pick the best choice from our perspective, and hope things don’t get worse. Then we end up at a new crossroads, and it starts all over.”

They were all just staring at him. “It’s not a perfect metaphor either,” Franka contended. “None of them really is. Time is a road, time is a river. Time is just all the things that happen.”

“This is a great lesson on temporal mechanics,” Leona said sarcastically, “but I have more questions. When were you gonna introduce yourselves to us, and honestly so, instead of with aliases. Franka, why didn’t you show up pretending to be someone else?”

“It’s like my brother said,” Franka replied, “I’m not intelligent, I’m intuitive. In this day and age, when you meet someone new, you expect them to be smart, and have something to give you. He gave you the slingdrive. I have nothing like that to offer. My job was to tell him what to do, and truthfully, to cultivate our assets.”

“Octavia and Miracle,” Mateo said, nodding. “Anyone else? You got Bhulan in your back pocket? What about my third grade teacher? She on your payroll too?”

“Well...The Overseers,” Séarlas admitted. “That’s thanks to you. We didn’t know where either of them was before.”

“Yeah, we guessed that they were with you,” Marie said, “and the Arborist.”

“It’s not like how Arcadia did it, though,” Franka insisted. “We don’t force or trick people. We don’t...tell them everything either, but they make their own choices.”

“My little intelligence officers,” Leona snarked.

Séarlas tensed up, so Franka placed a hand on his shoulder, and spoke before he could say something that he regretted. “We knew there would be hostility. This is the tough part, and it was always going to be like that because of one mistake we made long ago. I told you about the crossroads. At a real crossroads, you could walk back, and take a different path, but for us, we can’t. We had one single good opportunity to show ourselves to you. It was after our alternate versions died, and some of the initial sting from that had worn off, but before you went off to...be king of Dardius.”

“I wasn’t king.”

Franka went on without responding to that, because it wasn’t the point. “We didn’t know that the babies were going to die. Space is more difficult to see into. It’s hard to explain, but it’s easier with an atmosphere. The point is, it was a tight window, and we missed it. We wanted to know when you were going to come back to the stellar neighborhood from Dardius, and unfortunately, by the time we saw that happen, we had passed our turn. From there, too much was going on, and showing up would have only made things worse. Gatewood, Varkas Reflex, Mateo dies, the rest of the team dies, you disappear into the past, you jump to the Fifth Division, and the Third Rail. I don’t know if you can believe us, but we kept looking for opportunities, and each one was worse than the last. Eventually, we decided that the only way we could have a relationship with our parents was to...”

“Be antagonists,” Leona finished for her.

“We don’t like that word,” Franka said, “but we appreciate your perspective on that. We prefer to see ourselves as tough-love mentors.”

“You’ve been trying to get us to murder someone!” Leona shouted.

“The Oaksent’s future is profoundly clear to us,” Séarlas maintained. “With him, we don’t have binoculars, we have a planet-sized telescope. He has..to die. That’s the only solution. If you’re worried about him becoming a martyr, don’t. His loyalists see him as a god-king. His death alone will shift allegiances for millions. Gods can’t die.”

“Neither can Bronach,” Ramses reasoned, “so what does that make him?”

“The man behind the curtain,” Franka suggested.

“Learning who you are has not changed our position one iota,” Mateo tried to tell his once-children. “If you find a team who is willing and able to do it, we won’t get in your way, but we won’t help either.”

“What if it’s Team Kadiar?” Franka put forth.

It was not a good idea to say that. The twins had hardly looked at Romana since she showed up. It was between them and the parents. She had to respond to this, though. “It won’t be. I don’t care what my mom and dad say, we will interfere if you approach my sisters.” She all but growled.

“Okay, okay,” Marie stepped in. She hadn’t talked much either, but she and her sister were the diplomats. “Romana is right. Team Kadiar is also off limits. They literally crew a diplomacy ship. I won’t have you corrupting them, or even trying to. This has been a tough day. One thing I’ve learned as a counselor is that the breaks are just as important as the talks. We would like a place to retire, and will reconvene in a year. I understand that the anticipation might be difficult for you, but we will only experience less than a day. That time apart will make things easier. I promise you. We have learned a lot—maybe too much already. The human brain, even one designed by Mister Abdulrashid here, needs time to consolidate new information. Does this sound okay to everyone?”

They all agreed to take a break. Mateo had to reframe his thoughts on all this. He hadn’t raised any of his other kids, and in fact, Kivi was born in an entirely different reality, so he didn’t really even conceive her. He still saw her as his child, though admittedly, in a different way than he saw Romana, or even Dubravka. Franka and Séarlas weren’t nothing to him. He didn’t know what they were, but he already knew that they weren’t going to be strangers who he didn’t care about. A good night’s sleep would hopefully help with this. Thank God Marie was here.

There was an Alaskan king bed for Mateo, Leona, and Olimpia to share. The others each had their own rooms with regular king beds. When they woke up the next day, the twins had reportedly skipped over the interim year as well. It could have been a lie to endear them to the team, but even if it was true, it wasn’t exceptionally impactful. It didn’t solve their problems. Probably only one thing could do that, and that was a common enemy. Annoyingly enough, he was right on time. The angry Fifth Divisioner, also known as A.F. had finally found the location of this secret base, having evidently been searching for it since he discovered that Séarlas-slash-Pacey-slash-his nameless engineer had betrayed him. He had a fleet at his fingertips now, and had the space station surrounded. He remotely managed to shut down all systems besides life support and artificial gravity. It was more than that, though, the team’s slingdrive array wasn’t working either. Mateo might have been able to get them out with his dark particles, but he still needed more time to recuperate.

Séarlas sighed. “Goddamn, I wish I hadn’t given that man quintessence technology.”

“Why did you?” Mateo asked.

“You asked us to move on to Plan B for the assassination of Bronach Oaksent? You are Plan B.” He scoffed and shook his head. “A.F. was Plan A.”

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Extremus: Year 118

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It’s the end of the year, and the end of Tinaya and Arqut’s lives. The whole ship is in mourning, even though they’re not quite dead yet. They’re in the same room that they’ve slept in for years, but it has been modified to accommodate their new situation. The bed has been pulled out to be replaced with two hospital beds. People have been coming all month long to say their goodbyes. The doctors don’t let too many people in over the course of only one day, so they have to spread it out. Audrey, with nothing else to do, is in charge of maintaining a healthy and comfortable schedule. Captain Jennings has his turn now, as it is nearing the couple’s final days, and he should be one of the last. His relationship to the two of them hasn’t always been perfect, but they have a mutual respect for one another, he will still be saddened by the loss. That’s not the only reason he’s here, though. There is some final business to take care of. “You must appoint your successor.”

“Ask me in a year,” Arqut quips. Gallows humor.

Oceanus tries hard not to smile. He doesn’t know that it’s fine. They’re in their nineties, for God’s sake. “Please. I want them to be as good as you.” He looks around in paranoia, like someone might be watching. “Things have been changing. Waldemar is gaining popularity.”

“We knew he would,” Tinaya says. “He’s a populist.”

“Yeah, but...please,” Oceanus begs.

“Who is in third place?” Arqut asks him. “If Waldemar is number one, who is number three?”

“That would be Détha. Why? Are you considering her for the role?”

“I can’t just say, whoever loses becomes the Superintendent instead,” Arqut explains. “I have to choose a name, and it will take that person out of the running. They obviously can’t be both the Captain and the Superintendent.”

“We all know that neither one of them is going to win,” Oceanus says, “Détha nor Pronastus.”

“Right, but second place will become lieutenant, won’t they?” Arqut presses.

Oceanus frowns. “We weren’t telling people that.”

“You don’t always have to tell me something for me to know,” Arqut clarifies. “Well...you don’t have to tell my wife.”

“It’s a little bit of padding,” Oceanus explains. “If that man has to become captain no matter what, at least we can put someone at his side who we can trust. If it can’t be Silveon, let it be someone we know and like.”

“Détha is the same,” Tinaya says. “I didn’t know her before all this, but I’ve been watching her. She would make a good superintendent or lieutenant, but let’s have her as the former. Pronastus has work to do when it comes to policy, not just staffing.”

“So we’ll have two good people in power, and one not so good,” Oceanus determines. He breathes a sigh of relief. “I was hoping you would say something like that. She has to be informed first, though. She has the right to decline, and move forward with her bid for the captaincy.”

“Well...” Arqut begins. “Bring her to us.”

“She’s not on the schedule,” Audrey warns from the corner.

“Who is?”

“Head Councillor Crusan,” Audrey answers. “After him, you’ve hit your quota. You’re not allowed any more visitors, besides me and your son. Doctor’s orders.”

“We’ll see him tomorrow,” Tinaya decides.

“Tomorrow is a day of rest,” Audrey reminds them. “They’re all days of rest after today.”

“Then push it back. The day after that will be the start of our swan songs,” Arqut insists. “He’s right, I should have picked a replacement sooner. I just wasn’t thinking, and honestly, I forgot whether I had the authority to do so or not. There was a time when we thought I didn’t. I have the power to move staff around as needed, but does that include my own position? Anyway, please retrieve her for us. But maybe wait an hour or two. We both need a nap.”

Oceanus looks up at Audrey. “Just let me know when they’re awake and up for it. Détha will jump when I say so.”

Détha ends up not being able to come until nighttime, when her watch as active Vice Captain is over for the day. Technically, once she’s on break, she’s free to do whatever she wants. It’s kind of the point to transition to the next Vice Captain three times a day, so none of them has any sort of help from the others while they’re active. During each watch, they are expected to be the one and only. This is a different situation, though. She’s not in command at the moment. “You wanted to see me, sirs?”

“There is no time to beat around the bush,” Arqut starts to tell her. He’s sitting up now, feeling better than before, but he knows that he’s going to have to go to sleep again soon. “Are you aware of your place in the competition?”

Détha is a straightforward person. She recognizes the value in lying, but is very good at seeing what others know, and what they don’t, so when lying is pointless, it becomes counterproductive. She knows that Tinaya and Arqut already know the answer, so any optimism or confidence will come across as unearned, even though she got to where she is due to all that confidence. Fake it ‘til you make it, except unfortunately...she’s not gonna make it. And she knows that too. “I’m losing, sir.”

“Do you know why that is?” Arqut goes on.

Now she’s hesitating.

“Be honest with us about your perspective,” Tinaya encourages her. “We’ll take it to our grave, which is coming up soon.”

Détha clears her throat, and tries to straighten up, but really, she was already standing at high attention. “It’s a boy’s club sir. It has been for over twenty years. I’m sorry if that offends.”

“It doesn’t,” Tinaya assures her. “You’re right, but that’s not the problem. I’m guessing that you would be happier if Pronastus won. Not as happy as if it were you, but better than the alternative?”

Détha hesitates again, but pushes through it. “He should be in first place. He’s clearly the best, I’m not sure why he’s not. He understands people. He knows what they need. He has literal superpowers. Waldemar, on the other hand, is...”

“Incompetent? Reckless?” Arqut tries to guess.

“Inhumane? Dispassionate?” Tinaya adds.

“Lost,” Détha contends. “Sirs. He gets confused about why he should care what others are going through.”

Arqut nods. “As Superintendent, when active, I don’t have the power to relieve a captain from duty, unless under extreme circumstances, and even then, I would need a lot of people backing me. I wouldn’t be able to just do it.”

“Sir? Is there a problem with Captain Jennings? Is he corrupt?” Détha asks.

“No, not him. It’s Kristiansen. He’ll be a problem.”

“Apologies, but it appears that you won’t be the Superintendent anymore, sir.”

“Exactly,” Arqut confirms.

Détha winces a little. She’s not quite connecting the dots, but she’s close. Or maybe she’s there, but she doesn’t want to assume.

“We need you,” Tinaya says. “We need you to take his place, so you can be in a position to help when the day comes that this ship requires an active Superintendent again. As he said, you can’t remove a captain, but maybe you could move enough other people around, and gather enough support.”

“You’re planning a future coup,” Détha argues. “You won’t even be around to suffer any consequences.”

Tinaya sighs. “There are things we know about the future. I’m breaking laws just by telling you that, and I won’t say anything more, except that you are a variable that we didn’t see. Perhaps...you can make things better. Based on your track record, I don’t think you can make it worse. You and Vice Captain Kegrigia are the only two people who might have a chance of keeping Extremus in one piece. One of your should be lieutenant, and the other the new Arqut.”

Détha considers the offer. “You don’t think I can win?” she asks. “You don’t think something can change within the next two years?”

“You deserve it,” Arqut says to her, “but no. Time is usually fluid, even for time travelers who have knowledge of future events, but sometimes, there’s nothing you can do. We believe that this is the best course of action to take right now. It might be the only one.”

Détha nods respectfully. “I accept the position. I will take on my new responsibilities with honor and grace.”

“Now, you understand that you won’t have power over the vice captains either, right? They’re just like the captain in this regard. If we were still doing things the old ways, you couldn’t veto a candidate. They’re insulated, by extension of the captain. So even though you’ll be starting by the end of the competition, you won’t be able to change the outcome.”

“I understand,” Détha replies. “With all due respect, I can promise you nothing when it comes to my future decisions. I will have to be my own Superintendent, and if I calculate that Waldemar Kristiansen is the absolute best thing to happen to Extremus, and its mission, then I will support him appropriately. If you’re looking for someone to carry a set of instructions that you write down before you die, you’re looking at the wrong girl.”

“We would never expect that,” Arqut says sincerely. “I would not be choosing you if I thought I could. That’s the point.”

Détha nods again. “Then once more, I accept.”

There are a few minor details to iron out, but there’s very little that she needs to know before she starts her job. They won’t announce the decision for another few days, and she won’t actually start anything until Arqut dies, or if he’s declared mentally unfit to continue. They are considering asking the doctor to do just that so she can go ahead and get started. It’s not like they would be lying. He gets tired all the time, and he’s on his actual deathbed. Technically, he’s mentally stable enough to make decisions, but in a practical sense, he should also be able to attend council meetings. Even sitting up in a chair has become difficult. They don’t get the chance to do any of this, however. A couple of days later, Détha is found dead in her stateroom.

It was clearly murder, but they have no evidence that Waldemar was involved. It doesn’t even kind of look like he might have done it. Only a few people understand his full motives. Since he was winning the competition for the captain’s seat, to outsiders, it doesn’t look like he would have much reason to feel threatened by her. If anything, he should have killed Pronastus to secure his own win, but that’s not what happened. Their best guess is that he found out that Détha spoke with Tinaya and Arqut, even though she doesn’t know them, and wouldn’t have been on the list of visitors unless it was something that wasn’t in Waldemar’s best interests. Murder is wrong, of course, but he’s not crazy to hold these fears. They are plotting against him, just probably not in the way that he thought. Or she confessed to him, either beforehand, which led to the murder, or during the violent act, as a desperate plea for her life. So they don’t know what he knows. It doesn’t matter for long, though, because Arqut and Tinaya die at the exact same time just a few weeks later anyway. They never found a new superintendent.

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