The Advancement of Mateo Matic: September 18, 2562

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They were kind of surprised to come back to the timestream in 2562 to find that there were no more hits on Ramses’ warning system. Well, there were few in the meantime, but they closed out by the time they returned. He specifically designed it to maintain some privacy. An invisible probe would spy on the colonists, and log what was happening to them, categorizing what might be an issue, then if necessary, send an alert back to homebase. It would not reveal what happened, or what they would be getting themselves into. If something changed about the situation, the probe would amend the status with a new report, which in many cases, would render the team moot. They knew there would be things they missed due to their patterns. That didn’t mean they wanted to gather exabytes of data on the lives of strangers. They were only here to help, and if there was nothing they could do, they didn’t need to know about it.

In his spare time, Ramses had figured out what went wrong with Romana’s sojourn in her private virtual environment before. She had set it up incorrectly, not reaching out for help when she needed it, because she wanted to keep it a secret. He assured them that it would not happen again. She was going to go back there when her father stopped her. “What? You don’t want me to see him? You think it’s unhealthy?”

“I’m not here to judge you,” Mateo promised. “We would like to meet him. For real, this time. Preferably when he’s fully clothed, but...again, I don’t wanna judge.”

“We’re not naturists,” Romana explained. “What do you want, a dinner?”

Mateo checked his watch. “Whatever meal you would have at whatever time it is in there. We’re flexible. I just want you to know that I love and I support you. I saw how Linwood Meyers’ eyes lit up when his companion bot walked into the room. I come from a different time, when that kind of relationship wasn’t possible. That doesn’t mean I should be closed off to the idea. Quite the opposite. I need to recognize my ignorance.”

“I’m glad to hear you say that,” Romana said. She looked over at Leona and Olimpia, who were planning to go in too, but hadn’t spoken up yet. “Maybe just one at a time, though. I don’t know if Boyd is conscious, but he is sensitive.”

“That’s okay,” Leona said with a smile. “You two go in alone. I have some work to do on our habitats anyway. Enjoy your dinner. Eat whatever you want. You can’t get fat.”

“Yeah, and I’m gonna...go eat something that might make me fat,” Olimpia added.

“I’ll still love you,” Mateo said. “All of you.” He kissed his wife, then his other wife.

Father and daughter entered the simulation. It didn’t look like Topeka anymore. It was just a peaceful jungle or forest, or whatever. A huge waterfall fell into the little pond before them, but the volume was turned down low, so it wasn’t a sensory overload. They were wearing casual summer clothes, and it was the ideal temperature here. They heard someone call Romana from behind. They turned around, and she smiled brightly.

“Boyd!” Romana cried back, waving. She ran up to him so they could kiss.

Boyd was noticeably uncomfortable with the PDA. “Is it okay?”

Romana looked back over at Mateo too. “It’s okay. He won’t bite.”

Mateo walked up to them. “I really won’t.” He offered his hand. “It’s nice to officially meet you,” Boyd Maestri. “I thought maybe we could share a meal.”

“I would very much like that, sir,” Boyd replied. “I had a picnic planned, but we can do something else. There is plenty of food either way.”

“A picnic sounds lovely,” Mateo said. “Lead the way.”

They went off to eat. It was awkward, but became less so over time. Then the monsters came.

Extremus: Year 136

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Sable finally feels like she’s in the club. She thought she had pretty much all of the pieces of the puzzle, but she had no idea how much she was missing. Now it all makes sense; why Silveon and Audrey act and acted the way they do and did, the kind of relationship Admiral Leithe had with Waldemar. She knows that she still doesn’t know everything. There would be too much to learn about the first timeline, and she doesn’t need it anyway. She knows what Waldemar is like now, and she can act on it.

She has decided to marry him. She knows that Audrey already tried that, but that was apparently more to protect innocent women from falling into his orbit. That was noble, but that’s not a problem anymore. Waldemar has gotten what he needed by being a family man. Good or bad, he maintains his popularity on his own merits. It sounds like Audrey was simply too passive. She evidently tried to coddle Waldemar, and long-con him into thinking that everything she wanted him to do was his idea. It seems to have helped, but it was clearly not enough. Sable has an advantage. She has real power, and she is willing to use it. It will have to wait, though. She is spending time with her mom.

The doorbell rings, which is weird, because it doesn’t normally do that at this time. In fact, it never has at all. She must have made some minor change to reality without realizing it. She is so focused on reliving these moments that she doesn’t always pay attention to the butterfly effect. She doesn’t bother with the camera. She just instructs the AI to open the door, only to find a complete stranger on the other side of it.

“Miss Keen.” The middle-aged woman walks in. “How are you doing?”

“I’m just watching my mother...wither away,” Sable replies. “Who are you?”

The stranger nods. “A fellow traveler. The difference is, I can’t control it. I’m here to ask you to move forward. I know it’s hard, which is why I’ve given you your space, but girl...it’s been months. This isn’t healthy. Now, I don’t want you to hurt me because I say that. I just want you to ask yourself whether she would want you to keep reliving this day over and over again, or live your life. I’m sincerely asking. I never met her.”

Sable frowns and looks down at her mom. This is the part of the day where she’s still alive, but has become unresponsive, so the conversation is over. She doesn’t know if Lataran can hear her, but she usually keeps talking anyway, even though no matter what, Lataran won’t remember it when time resets. She looks back at the woman. “How did you hijack my rewind? No one should remember the groundhog repeats.”

“I didn’t hijack anything. I’m a choosing one, like you. It’s just something that happens to me. I remember all timelines. As I was saying, you’re in control here. ”

Sable doesn’t say anything. She just sighs and looks back at her mom.

“They made a movie about this. Not the one you’re thinking of; it more closely resembles what you’re actually doing, but unlike that character, you can turn it off whenever you want, and...every time you refuse, you die.”

“That’s how this power works. I can only rewind upon death.”

“I know,” the woman says. “That wasn’t hard to parse. I have witnessed many of your suicides. You like to do them public so you can see the looks on people’s faces. That is not healthy either.” She holds out her hand as if Sable is meant to take it. “Come on. Let’s enjoy a nice walk in the Attic Forest, and wait for tomorrow to come.”

Sable stares at the intruder’s hand. “What happens if I kill you instead?”

“I wouldn’t know. I try to stay alive, as I always have,” she replies.

Sable stands, and steps forward menacingly. “I do like to learn new things.” She pulls out her knife. “Hold still. I’ll make it quick.”

Microstory 2720: They’re Not Afraid Anymore

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Chief Asset Manager Pribadium Delgado is sitting across the table from the seemingly self-appointed leader of the so-called Doma Tertians. His name is Sora Shimizu, and he has already proven difficult for her. He doesn’t like what she’s wearing, claiming that the shine offends his eyes. She does tend to favor the sleek and glossy aesthetic, and this is the sort of thing she normally wears, but she can be flexible. She taps on her wrist interface to shift her outfit to a matte purple.

Sora looks down at the purple scarf around his ankle. “That won’t win you points with me. I wear this in honor of a loved one. It was her favorite color, not mine.”

Pribadium has her limits. Without saying a word, she taps on her interface again, reverting back to her usual shiny suit as she folders her arms. Now she’s in his head.

Sora grits his teeth. “Whatever you’ve come to say, you should know that I know my rights. I know that we are legally allowed to settle on any celestial body massive enough to coalesce into a meaningfully spherical shape. No party may stake singular claim to an entire legally categorized terrestrial planet at the expense of other settlers—”

“I know the law,” Pribadium argues. “I helped write the most recent amendments.”

“Did you know that these laws apply to all neighborhood planets, and that the potential for sole ownership only begins outside of the bounds of a fifty light year radius from Earth?” Sora presses.

“Of course I know that,” Pribadium reiterates. “I wrote them! You obviously didn’t read or comprehend them. Those laws only apply to colony worlds. The Gatewood Collective was not categorized as a colony world. It was a military outpost for centuries before being released to a special asset distributor, which I run. The planet that we are on right now was deemed excessively inhospitable, and unfit for colonization. Squatter’s rights do not apply, because no one is allowed to settle on it. We are not settling on it either. It has been scheduled for obliteration. The process has already begun, and cannot be undone. If you stay, you will die when the pulse arrives.”

“We do not accept that decision,” Sora contends. “We might have landed after you fired your big gun, but we are here now. We know that there are ways for you to deflect the beam. You either do that, or count yourself responsible for the permanent deaths of hundreds of colonists who are also refugees. You will lose your job.”

“First of all, it’s a job, not a calling. If I lose it, then fine. In a few thousand years, no one will remember this. Secondly, we won’t come out looking bad. You were informed of the facts. You chose to stay. Everyone will know that. I’ll be fine. Gatewood will be fine. Thirdly, we can’t deflect it. It’s moving at the speed of light.”

Sora folds his arms now. “I know you have your ways. You can’t fool me.”

Oh, he’s just crazy. She knows that she shouldn’t use that word, which is why she doesn’t say it out loud. He’s clearly not mentally well, though. He might have been born that way, or the horror he faced on Proxima Doma changed him. This is gonna be tough either way. Then again, she does have the ability to manipulate time. There’s no way he knows that, right? I mean, if he were a time traveler, he would just speak with her honestly about it. He has to be bluffing, and her status is a complete coincidence. Right?

Sora chuckles softly. “Take all the time you need. We survived the destruction of our planet. It turned to soup underneath my feet. We are not afraid anymore. Are you?”

Microstory 2719: Previously...on Gatewood

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About six light years from Earth, in the direction of the constellation Ophiuchus, there is a small red dwarf named Barnard’s Star. Four planets orbit the host, and since they are all so close to it, they are affectionately known as hot rockies. Due to its local inhospitability and its proximity to Earth, it was assigned a very special job. Earth is the seed and heart of life and civilization. Everything in the Sol system belongs to those who live there. Until Castlebourne came along, it was assumed that Sol would remain the central hub of the galaxy. It only makes sense. In order to preserve their resources, early colonial coordinators decided that Barnard’s Star would be a giant celestial junkyard.

For centuries, the Core Worlds have enjoyed a post-scarcity economy, where every basic need is met, along with many not-so-basic needs. It is entirely plausible and easy to live quiet comfortably without spending a proverbial dime. But it is still an economy, and it is based on a currency of energy credits. Every day, each citizen accumulates a baseline amount of credits, just by existing. Many leave these credits in their private accounts, and don’t do anything with them. Others donate to those in need—not those who need it to survive, but those who want something more.

If you find someone to donate their credits to you, or if you contribute positively to society, you can earn extra credits. Citizens elect the legislators who determine how much a contribution is worth, but it doesn’t really have to have all that much technical value. You could be, hypothetically speaking, the worst painter in the world, but if you paint a piece of art, and provide it to the public, you have made a positive contribution. Even if no one likes it, it is something that you created and provided, so it counts, and you will receive credits for that. It probably won’t be much, but it will at least blip above the baseline. Bigger contributions lead to bigger payouts, and importantly, combining credits with others results in a total that is more than the sum of its parts. Because sharing and cooperation are, on their own, considered positive contributions.

Since most amenities are provided by the state for free, what do energy credits give you? They can pay for two major things: building something at significant scale, or traveling somewhere of significant distance. That is precisely why Barnard’s Star was chosen as the junkyard. It is relatively close, so getting there is fairly easy, and once you’re there, you can go just about anywhere else. There is always an interstellar cycler on its way there, so you won’t have to wait long. You spend your credits on a ticket to the junkyard, and then you’re free to apply for your own transportation. Upon approval, rather than using up Sol’s resources, you take what raw materials you need from Barnard’s Star. The celestial bodies which orbit it are called the Gatewood Collective.

Very few entities live in the Gatewood Collective on a permanent basis. Most are waiting for their applications to go through, or are actively engineering their vessels. These parties may range from an individual to entire fleets of colonists. Only the staff stick around. It’s there job to decide who gets what, and to make sure colonists are doing what they’re meant to be doing. They are the coordinators and the police. All of this stuff is mostly free, so there is no reason to be greedy, and more to the point, there is no reason to stay for any longer than you have to. Build what you need, then bug out.

Not everyone follows these terms, even if they agreed to them before they left their prior homes. That is where the police contingency comes in. So far, it’s been mostly okay; just a few conflicts. Definitely nothing major. There are hundreds of billions of stars in this galaxy alone. It’s perfectly reasonable to expect one of them to be limited to this one use. As previously stated, the planets are far too difficult to colonize. It’s not entirely impossible, but it’s fundamentally ludicrous. And yet, some are trying.

Another six light years from Barnard’s Star is another red dwarf called Ross 154. There is nothing special about it either, so there wasn’t any interest in colonizing it. In the middle of the 25th century, construction began on a stellar shotgun around Ross 154. This was no weapon, though. It was designed to harvest the violent forces of the flare star, feeding into a massive capacitor. It took about half a century to build, and about another half to charge. Once the energy was at its peak, they fired the weapon, not towards Barnard’s Star, but those four hot rockies. The pulse is traveling at the speed of light, which means it will take years for them to arrive. In preparation for this, all other shipbuilding has been relegated to safer regions of Gatewood.

Once the pulses hit their marks, each target will break apart in a matter of only a few days. Anything attempting to live on it will be utterly destroyed. The whole reason it took so long for them to build the stellar shotgun in the first place is so they could run extremely extensive tests on the possibility of life on the hot rockies. They found none. Even extremophiles don’t want to live here. But some humans do. A group of refugees from Proxima Doma made their way to the Gatewood Collective after their own planet suffered a world ending cataclysm. They came to find a new home, and they didn’t want to go far. They were told that Barnard’s Star was the perfect destination, but they failed to recognize or respect the rules. They want to stay here, which would already set a dangerous precedent, but not only that; they want to live on a planet, as they had before.

It’s not everyone. Plenty of migrants from Doma have come, and started work on their ships. Many didn’t bother coming this direction at all. Gatewood is more for people who want to leave the stellar neighborhood. The majority of the refugees wanted to stay close by, and since the destruction of their homeworld was not their fault, the government agreed to ferry them anywhere within 25 light years.

This one small group of rebels, however, don’t like that Barnard’s Star is only meant to be a pitstop. They think that the legislators should treat it like any other Core star. But if they had, there would be no conflict. If they had given it the same colonial designation, no one would have wanted to live here; not if they were so gung-ho on planets. They are all uninhabitable, and the star itself is nothing special. They only want it because they can’t have it. And that is no good reason at all.

The pulses have been sent, and there is no stopping them. The reason it’s taking so long is because of how powerful they are. They’re designed to obliterate planets. Even if the government wanted to back out of this mission, they would be physically incapable of it. The process has already begun. They’re just waiting for the results to come in, and it will not be long now. Chief Asset Manager, Pribadium Delgado should not be entertaining these people’s complaints. If they don’t leave Barnard’s Star e in the next few weeks, they are going to die. That is a certainty. Now, she could remove them forcibly, but that would be a PR disaster. Squatter’s rights were a thing back on Earth when there was such a thing as homelessness, and they still exist today, just on greater scales. Simply landing on their tiny little settlement is incredibly taxing thanks to the heat and terrain. But here she is, trying to negotiate a peaceful solution. The former Domanians are not having it. And now, they’re trying to take her hostage. Hilarious.

Microstory 2718: Whatever it Takes

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Isavet has been allowed visitors, but she hasn’t allowed anyone in. She said what she wanted to say to her family, and heard what she wanted to hear from them. She may see them again one day, but she might not. Until then, she wants to be alone. That is evidently not an option this time. The so-called owner of the entire planet is here. He wants to speak with her personally, which sounds incredibly ridiculous to her. She has to remember, though, that genuine murder is all but impossible these days, out here in the real world. The fact that she attempted it probably shook everyone to their core, so it makes some sense that he would want to meet the killer.

“May I sit?” a man named Hrockas Steward asks. He’s flanked by his personal bodyguard, Azad Petit, who is the one who warned the family about Talus’ indiscretions.

“It’s all yours, sir,” Isavet replies. The way she sees it, the sentence has been handed down. She’s going to the same place where her brother is. She doesn’t have to pretend to be unhinged anymore. She can be polite and cordial.

While Azad remains a statue next to him, Hrockas sits and adjusts his outfit. “Has anyone ever explained to you where you’re going in terms that you understand?”

“A friend of mine told me about Varkas Reflex,” Isavet begins, referring to Caleb. “It’s not like a regular prison. For most people, only their minds are there. They convert your thoughts and memories into tiny flashes of light, and throw your body away.”

Hrockas smiles, and doesn’t quite chuckle, but he clearly wants to. “That’s one way to put it. If you choose the right simulations, you will one day understand it even better. And I do hope you do that. I know that Danmörk speaks to you, but there is so much more out there, and you can have it all without moving a centimeter. Miss Truett, you’re special. That body you’re in right now is the only one you have ever had. It is for that reason that it is illegal for anyone to destroy it. Even if your mind is safely uploaded to a server, it just can’t be done. So where you’re going, you get to keep it.”

“Yes, my friend told me about that too, before the lawspeaker explained.”

Hrockas nods and leans forward. “On the planet in question, there are very few people in quarantine. It’s just not something that needs to be done. The majority of the population are there for recreation. It’s not unlike Castlebourne, except you the world can be anything you want, even if it would break the laws of physics. Honestly, it’s technically better than what we have. One day, my planet will be shut down. It’s cool, doing all these things in base reality, but it’s not gonna last forever. In millions of years, the idea of having a physical body at all will probably seem quaint. Until then, if you want your pick of VR, you go to Varkas Reflex. The initials are a very lucky coincidence.

“Anyway, the quarantine zone, as you might imagine, is far separated from everyone else, and it’s quite small. They anticipated a few guests such as yourself and your brother, but not many. My primary adjudicator has a particular affinity for it. There actually are still physical penal colonies for those who have also not been digitized. She almost sent you to one of those. I’m glad she chose otherwise.”

“Sir?” Isavet asks. Why would he care where she goes?

Hrockas leans forward even more. “I know what your plan is.”

“Sir?” she repeats.

“You are not as opaque as you believe. Don’t worry,” Hrockas assures her, “I don’t think your family sees it. They’re young. They don’t know what life was like when we had scarcity. They tend to see the best in people. I’ve seen the darkness. I see it in you. And you’re smarter than they give you credit for. I know you knew what would happen when you killed that couple. I know you wanted to get sent to Varkas Reflex, and I know why.”

“I just want to pay for my transgressions,” Isavet lies.

He doesn’t hold back a laugh this time. “The Viking boy must have told you a lot about virtual quarantine. When you go there, you will not be in the same room as the younger Talus. You will not see him unless I let you. I’ve made quite a name for myself in this galaxy, so I have friends. I can give you what you need to do what you are hoping to do, but in exchange, I’m going to need something from you.”

Oh, there it is. “And what’s that?” Isavet asks.

Hrockas turns his head towards his bodyguard, but doesn’t actually look up at him. “Plausible deniability.”

“Sir,” Azad protests.

“I’m backed up. Go,” Hrockas insists.

Azad clears his throat, and looks at Isavet. “I have a license to kill. I’ll need it to fight in the war that’s coming, but I’ll use it now if you give me a reason, even if he survives anyway. So think about that before you do something stupid.” He disappears.

Isavet is so shocked. Are they already in the mind prison, or is there more going on with this world than she understands?

Hrockas turns back at her. “You and Talus Junior are not the only people in quarantine. Most of the people, I don’t care about, but there is one which threatens every living being in the universe. She’s smart. She was born in a virtual world, and she is incredibly patient. She will find a way to break out one day. What I need you to do is break out first. You can kill your brother, but I need you to kill this other entity as well. It won’t be easy, but I can give you the tools. Are you up for it?”

“This feels like a trick; like you’re waiting for me to confess to my intentions so you have a reason to imprison me somewhere else,” Isavet worries.

“I own the planet. If I want something to happen, it does. I don’t need a reason. This is real. You don’t have to admit to anything. Just submit to a simple procedure.”

“What kind of procedure would this be?”

“An undetectable implant in your brain,” he answers. “When you’re digitized, you become code, and killing code isn’t easy, but it is possible. With a zero blade.”

Isavet leans back and eyes this strange little man. She has met many strong and powerful men in her day, but none who owns a planet. Everyone she has talked to about him says he does. That obviously doesn’t mean he can be trusted, but he should definitely be respected. Even if there is only a remote chance that he’s being truthful, she has to say yes. She always knew that she might need help. Caleb acknowledged only knowing so much about the prison. “Okay. Show me.”

Hrockas snaps his fingers, and they’re suddenly in a different room. A doctor there named Telman explains the procedure. He can cut into her brain, insert a hidden, dormant little bead, then seal it back up like magic. It sounds crazy, but necessary, and Hrockas says it will help her with Talus too. As long as it gets her what she needs too, she’ll do anything he wants, or anyone else for that matter. So she lies back in the chair, and accepts whatever weird thing they’re going to put in her head. She’s not scared. She and pain go way back. After she’s settled, she breathes deeply. “Do it.”

Microstory 2717: Not Living Safely

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Isavet’s trial is coming along swimmingly. Her parents try to fight for her, but the state adherent, Jericho Hagen is relentless. He argues that Isavet grew up in a simulated environment, where she was raised to believe that death was a matter of fact, and not a temporary setback. In fact, as she was born in there, she was never one of these transhumanists they talk about. Since she never consented to having her mind made immortal, she will die one day too. Since Isavet thought that destroying Mayumi and Talus the Elder’s bodies would result in permanent death, they categorize the crime as attempted murder. It’s all about intent; not outcome. The only question now is what to do with her, and this is where the delicate dance comes to a satisfying conclusion.

Isavet spent years formulating this plan. She knew what she wanted; she just didn’t always know how to achieve it. The way she has been acting is carefully designed to set her on the right path. They want her to be sad and remorseful, but she can’t do that. When she was with Caleb, she would periodically ask him questions about the justice system. She knows what happens if she asks to repent. They won’t send her where she needs to go. So she leans into the horror. She talks about how much she enjoyed it, and she warns the court that, if released, she will find a way to kill her victims permanently. She pretends that she didn’t know they would come back.

The two of them look terrified of her, even though they’re safe in their magical god bodies. It wasn’t entirely necessary for them to feel that way, but it’s a nice bonus. She does blame them at least partially for everything that happened to her family. According to Caleb’s teachings, there are two major lifestyles that sprung out of the medical advancements that created virtual immortality. Some people embrace it. Like him, they go on adventures just for the thrill of it. They want it to hurt. They want it to be scary. They want to feel alive. Isavet has respect for such people. They’re more like her, even though death is just as impermanent as it is for the second group. Others, like Mayumi and Talus the Elder, try to live safely. They focus on the abundance of life-giving resources, which the true Norsemen didn’t have. They don’t let themselves die, or even be scared. Their goal is continuity. Isavet doesn’t disrespect these people completely. She knows it’s a valid choice. But these two took it too far, and innocent people got hurt.

Caleb is actually here, having taken a sabbatical from his Viking life to support Isavet, and even argue on her behalf. Everyone argued on her behalf. Even Mayumi and Talus the Elder seemed sympathetic. But Caleb’s testimony was interesting, because he spoke more about her strength and spirit than about her kind heart. Her family said that he was hurting her case, but what they didn’t know is that he helped her more than anyone.

“Thank you, Caleb,” she tells him. “You are a good friend, and a great leader.” She steps over to face Vith. “Thank you, big brother. You are a strong fighter. But you’re more independent than you would like to admit. Stay in touch with the family, but you should find your own way. Perhaps leave this planet.” She steps over. “Take care of yourself kid.” She rubs Leif’s hair, mussing it up. “Don’t let anyone tell you who you are. Advocate for yourself and what you want to do with your life.” She steps over and sighs at her crying mother. “Mother. I’m sorry you lost two of your children. One day, you will have your revenge. I promise.”

“I don’t want revenge,” Gia argues.

“You will have it anyway.” Isavet steps over. “Thank you for everything you taught me, Father.”

Ronan opens his mouth, but can’t seem to bring himself to speak. That’s okay. He has already said everything he must. He will get his revenge on Isavet too, whether he wants it or not. She broke up the family just as much as Talus the Younger did, and she will pay for that. When she’s done.

Isavet turns around and walks back to the big chair in the center of the room. She stands in front of it calmly, and faces the adjudicator, flanked by the two arbitration panels. She was tried as an adult, so she got the full complement, unlike her brother before. She waits patiently for the adjudicator to go through the whole legal spiel.

Finally, it’s time for the sentencing. “For two counts of attempted murder, Isavet Truett, you are hereby sentenced to indefinite virtual quarantine, to be carried out on the Core World of Varkas Reflex.”

Isavet smiles. Her plan worked.

Microstory 2716: The Way She Smiles

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This world is confusing and weird. Isavet thought she knew just about everything she needed to, but it has turned out to be so much weirder. As Ronan is leading her towards their home, they pass by a gigantic insect of some kind. It’s the size of a person, but no one else is freaking out. She looks back to see it stop and greet some people like they’re friends. She chooses not to ask her father about it. It’s not why she’s here.

She doesn’t have time to figure this world out. She needs to confront Mayumi and Talus the Elder where they live. She needs to hear their explanations for why they left their child, and whether they felt bad about it later. Did they care at all? They are going to answer her, whether they want to or not. Isavet isn’t going to be delicate when she finds them, but she has to remember to be that way now. She can’t go running head first into her next mission without acting like a normal girl. So she follows Father back home.

Her family has been spending time all over the planet, in very safe and controlled places. There is one that is a bunch of bees and pretty flowers, but they were somehow made to not sting, so it’s perfectly safe. It’s relaxing, and young Leif loves it. He likes Raindome too. They can somehow make it rain all the time, but it’s not this huge storm. It’s very light, and also relaxing. Isavet knows that she wouldn’t be able to stand it. They’re just in a residential dome now, where there aren’t any adventures, or weather control. Well, they probably are controlling the weather, because these people are gods.

After the reunion, Isavet confides in Vith. He is the only one who can find out where Mayumi and Talus the Elder are, understand how to use the fast-moving magical tubes to get there, and won’t scold her or try to protect her. After her family gives her some time alone, she sneaks off and gets back on the train thing. It is a wild ride for her, but Ronan said it gets even wilder. This one was designed to not be felt too much, but they make them where you can really feel the speed. She might like to try that some day, if her mission fails. It can’t, though. It can’t. It is a vital step towards the real mission.

She steps off of the train, and navigates to her enemy’s apartment. They have no idea who she is, but when she explains it, they welcome her warmly. They act like absolutely nothing is wrong here. They didn’t abandon their broken child in a world designed to favor the angry and violent. They didn’t start an unfaithful relationship when Mayumi was still married to Isavet’s father. They aren’t bad people. They are kind and loving, and they don’t deserve what’s about to happen to them. They’re delusional if they think that, and if they had entered the simulation like they were supposed to, they would have learned to be more suspicious of people. They would have seen her coming.

Mayumi taps her finger on the contraption on the wall that makes food, and comes back with a plate of cookies. Isavet tries one. It’s disgusting. Well, it’s not; it’s actually really good, but it disgusts her that it exists. Rather, it disgusts her that these people are eating it without a care in the world when they should be rotting in a stockade, or dead. This is her chance to rectify that failure of the system.

Isavet pulls the spoon out of the teacup and jams it into Talus the Elder’s eye. Mayumi screams, and like the coward she is, tries to run off instead of helping her husband. Isavet catches up immediately, and slams her head into the wall. Now that they’ve both been temporarily incapacitated, Isavet can take her time. She kills them, but she does it slowly, so it hurts. And when the authorities show up to arrest her for her crimes, her blood-covered face smiles.

The Advancement of Mateo Matic: September 17, 2561

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The team spent less than a minute on Ramosus in 2561 before agreeing to jump right to the coordinates of their newest mission. They were on a space station orbiting a star that was 299 light years from the Core Colonies. It would have to be a relatively fresh settlement, being this far out, and so newly reached by the Project Stargate quantum seeder module. This placed it well within the Extended Bubble, which meant it received no protection from Teagarden. Whoever was here would have to claim and defend it on their own, using whatever means they felt necessary. And if that meant violence, that was their choice, and it was looking like the choice that they made.

Team Matic found themselves on some kind of station or ship. There were two separate groups of people, standing opposite each other on either side of the room. They were all completely silent, confused and nervous, likely from having just witnessed seven strangers randomly appear through the technicolor burst of the slingdrive. Leona looked back and forth. “I am Leona Matic from a world known as Ramosus. I’m the captain of an outreach program, attempting to provide volunteer services for worlds that lie outside of Teagarden jurisdiction. How can we help?”

After some more silence, everyone began yelling. They were looking at Leona for the most part, but also at each other. It was completely unintelligible, but it was clear that the two groups weren’t preparing for a set dance. They were at war.

“I’m sorry,” Leona cried. “Did you think I could help you if you talked to me like that? Don’t answer that. Raise your hand if you are a leader of any faction in this room.” She raised her own hand as that applied to her as well. She nodded when two others did the same. “Well, that is much more manageable. You two, step forward, and tell me what the problem is. One at a time.” She pointed. “You first.”

“You’re right, I was first,” the man claimed. “This is our star. They are intruders.”

“We came here fairly, just as you did,” the woman from the other side argued. “It’s not our fault that you failed to lock out the quantum terminal.”

“We did lock it out! You snuck in through a different terminal!”

“Oh, don’t you use that word. There was no sneaking. When we were searching for a destination, we saw your lock, but then we saw another terminal, and thought that maybe the other one was damaged and replaced. We didn’t know you were here!”

“Wait,” Leona interjected. “There are two terminals. Who built the second one?”

“The automators,” the woman answered. “We think that it was damaged en route, so the nearest neighbor sent a replacement, but then somehow, the first one fixed itself, and went back to its implementation procedures. He’s on a moon; we’re on an asteroid. Now we’re both trying to colonize the unaccreted zone.”

Mateo looked through the nearest viewport when a large manmade object appeared. It was an expansive, complex space station. “How long have you been here?”

“Six years,” the man answered. “We just found out about each other two days ago.”

Mateo shook his head. They came here separately, and didn’t know it. It didn’t seem crazy to him that it could have happened in the first place, but that they could have spent quite this much time not realizing that it was happening. Did they not ever detect each other’s radio signals, or did they all stay pure quantum? Those weren’t necessary to answer. The solution was simply, though probably hard on principle. “Space is big; even the space within a single solar system. Have you ever thought about sharing the star?”

They all acted like they hadn’t thought of that before, but now the conversation could begin. The first thing they needed to do, however, was sit down and relax.

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