Extremus: Year 66

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Arqut wanted to pretend like he never professed his love to her last year, and Tinaya decided to respect that. They could revisit their respective feelings at a later date if he ever felt comfortable enough for it. In the meantime, it’s not like she’s going to entertain other suitors. If she were ever going to settle down with anyone, it would be with someone like him. She already knows him, and they have a rapport. She’s the First Chair, and doesn’t have time to hunt around, looking for love. Yeah, it sounds very impersonal, but again, that’s not what she’s looking for. If it finds her, then fine, but she can’t let it distract from her responsibilities. Though, if Cleader is to be believed, a relationship wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world right now. It is an election year, and her tenure is up for renewal. She needs all the help she can get, because incumbency comes at a price. She’s not allowed to campaign for reëlection. The way the founders thought of it, a civil servant’s duty is to serve their office, not to concern themselves with retaining that office. All sorts of problems throughout the history of politics might have been solved or subverted if elected officials did their goddamn jobs, instead of spending all their time trying to keep them.

So it’s been a stressful time, because Cleader continues to push Tinaya towards making herself look her best for the electorate, and while that doesn’t qualify as campaigning, just the strategy meetings she’s had to endure with him have become tedious and annoying. As predicted, her approval rating has dropped in recent months. She’s still slated to win at the end of the year, but it’s going to be tighter than she would like. But if she loses, it will be okay. She will not crawl back into the hole she lived in after she failed to get into college. She’ll do everything she can to make this ship, and the journey they’re all on together, safe, enjoyable, and productive.

There is no exception to the rule that prevents Tinaya from campaigning for herself, but there is nothing to stop others from doing it for her. Any private citizen has the right to free speech, and that speech may include their political affiliations, and the candidates who they support. Everyone has their fanbase, and Tinaya has a particularly vocal one. The thing is, though, she’s not allowed to meet any of these people, at least not within the context of their campaign efforts on her behalf. It is reasonable for the First Chair to meet her constituents, to discuss their needs or whathaveyou, but only as long as it doesn’t raise any suspicion that she’s involved in her own reëlection endeavors. Her doorbell chimes, and she answers it.

“Miss Kurosawa, this is highly irregular.” She’s the spearhead for Tinaya’s campaign. She’s not supposed to be anywhere near this office.

Avril nods. “Well, it’s unusual, but I have a good reason. If I promise that this does not break any policies or laws, can I come in for a chat?”

Tinaya thinks about what to do. She lifts her watch to her lips. “Call Hozan Peck.”

“Hozan Peck here,” the voice comes in from her watch.

“Could you please teleport to my office?”

“Right away, sir.” He appears.

“Mr. Peck, would you please sit in on our meeting?”

As Head of Ethics, he’s just as surprised to see Avril Kurosawa here, but he knows that both of them know the rules, so if this meeting is happening, calling him was the right thing to do. He doesn’t feel the need to argue that this shouldn’t happen at all, because there must be a decent reason. “Certainly.”

Tinaya goes back to behind her desk while the other two sit opposite her. “Miss Kurosawa, could you tell me what this is about?”

“I am here to tell you that I can no longer lead your civilian campaign.”

“Now, it’s not mine,” Tinaya argues. “Mr. Peck, the two of us have never spoken to each other before today. I want to assure you that—”

“Yes, yes, yes, I believe you. Go on, Miss Kurosawa.”

“It’s not that I don’t believe in you anymore,” Avril continues. “I just feel that I can do better. I have been studying your career since it began, and it has prepared me for civil service in surprising ways. I’m confident that I can be an even better First Chair than you. You have been focused in recent years in maintaining the status quo, and I think we should begin to focus on improvement. As your former campaign leader, I was unable to voice my concerns to you directly, which is a sacrifice I willingly made at the time, but what my partner has helped me realize is that my ideas should not be silenced, and the best way for me to see them through is to become the one who can enact them. I am here as a courtesy before my public announcement to inform you first that I will be running for your seat this year.”

Normally, Avril’s decision would be considered a bit late. This is not in any legal sense, of course. She could submit her name to the ballot on the day before the vote if she wanted to. It’s just that most people need time to get their name into the public consciousness. In this case, however, she might be okay, because her shift in loyalty will likely cause a stir, and expedite the process. It’s not impossible that this was her intention all along; stepping up to become Tinaya’s biggest fan just so she can popularize herself without getting lost in a sea of other candidates. There is no limit to the number of people who can be on the ballot. One year in history, there were thirty-one names in total, which caused a division, and ultimately made it difficult for the winner to feel like he earned it, but there was nothing he could have done to stop it.

Avril has a point, that Tinaya did more for the ship before becoming First Chair than she has in the last two and a half years in this position. Now she kind of wishes that she could say something to the people—to make them promises about what she’ll do for them in the future. But it’s too late for that now. It would be construed as campaigning, or actually be rightfully considered campaigning, and she’s always agreed with that policy on principle, even before she worked for the government. The people have the right to trust that their leaders care more about the happiness and stability of the state than their own self-interest. She still believes that, but at least a campaign would give her something to do. This period of peace barely stumbled even when Tamm was ousted. Maybe that’s what she’s worried most about; that people will elect her opponent only because they’re bored.

But now she has a new opponent, with a different take on how things should be done. It is logical to presume that there are others who feel as Avril does. In fact, Avril probably wouldn’t be here today if she didn’t put out feelers to see what others were thinking. She knows the voters well. She’s built her career upon. She would do a good job if elected. No, Tinaya has nothing to worry about. A win for either one of them would be a win for Extremus. She can’t say the same thing about the other four candidates currently on the ballot, but this one is good people. And right now, it’s time for civility, and most importantly, brevity. There is no need to drag this conversation out. She stands up, and offers her hand. “Thank you for informing me. Good luck on your future endeavors.”

Avril stands up, and shakes Tinaya’s hand. She appears to want to breathe a sigh of relief that Tinaya didn’t jump over the desk, and start ripping Avril’s hair out, and start chewing on it, but she’s worried that this is a trick.

“Really, it’s fine, Miss Kurosawa. Never let anyone feel that you’ve made the wrong decision. I look forward to hearing your ideas, because—forgive me for being blunt—no matter who wins, any good ideas will see the light of day.”

Now Avril’s even more scared, as is Hozan Peck. “Careful, Chairwoman...”

Tinaya needs to backpedal a little. “Don’t worry, either of you. I’m not going to tell the populace that anything you can do, I can do better. That’s just what I’m telling you. I mean, not better, just also. They’ll vote for who they want to vote for, but if I end up winning again, I’m not going to ignore a good idea just because it came from someone else. That would be...unfair to the people. I should stop talking.”

“You were on the line,” Hozan warns, standing up as well, “but you didn’t cross it.” He turns to face Avril to reiterate, “she didn’t cross it.” Now it’s going to be harder for Avril to use this interaction against Tinaya in the future. Thank you, Hozan Peck.

Avril closes her eyes, and nods. “Good luck to you too.” She taps on her watch, and disappears.

Tinaya scratches at the back of her neck. “I do need to be more careful.”

Hozan pulls a portable drive out of his bag, and hands it to her. “It’s a VR simulation filled with ethically questionable scenarios.”

“I’ve done these all before.” It’s required in school, and as a condition for her role as First Chair. Virtual reality is a great way to teach people concepts in literally any conceivable environment without going through the trouble of actually building that environment. It’s especially helpful on ships, where resources are limited, and space is at a premium.

“They’re new programs, created by the next generation of programmers and designers. You apparently need a refresher anyway. They’re what the other candidates will be experiencing in the coming months.”

“Thanks. There’s always more to learn.”

He nods. “Goodbye, Chairwoman Leithe.” Most people don’t call the First Chair Chairwoman or Chairman, but some prefer the sharpness of morphologically shorter language. He teleports away.

That night, Avril does as she warned, and announces her intentions, shocking many. As the broadcast is running, Tinaya’s doorbell chimes again, but she’s in her stateroom now. She finds Arqut on the other side of the door. “I just heard, I’m sorry.”

“I’m fine,” she replies sincerely. “If I lose, I would be glad it was her.”

“You won’t lose, not once we institute the plan.”

“What’s the plan,” Tinaya asks, emphasizing the words just like him, as if there’s something special about this particular plan, whatever it is.

“I wasn’t joking last year; I do love you, and I think you don’t absolutely detest my company either. If you would be willing, we could boost your polling with news of a new relationship. They’ll forget all about the other candidates within a week. Now, I know you don’t feel as strongly about me, but I think that we have to do something to respark people’s interest in your. Is that even a word, respark? Anyway, as I was say—

She pulls him into a hug “Let’s do it. But not just as part of some kind of plan. I’m sick of being alone, and I’m sick if you avoiding me.”

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Microstory 2020: Indiana

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My Aunt Cooper has three children, who are all boys, and they’re my cousins. Her first was born in the year 2000. She was 29 years old, and she lived with her new husband in a city called Gary, Indiana. Even though it’s located in Indiana, it’s really close to the border with Illinois, so it’s considered part of Chicago, which is a really big city next to Lake Michigan. While my papa was in the Navy, he was busy with his work most of the time, but he didn’t have to spend all the time working. Officers get to take time off just like regular people, except unlike them who get vacations, people in the military take something called leave. Specifically, since he was in the Navy, he was on shore leave. He decided to fly up to Gary to spend some time with his sister, and their new baby. My cousin is 12 years older than me, but we’re really close. After my papa was done with his required service, he retired and moved to Chicago to be closer to his sister. And years later, when he decided to move to Massachusetts, they all did the same thing he did, and moved with him. They lived in separate houses, though. But I’m getting ahead of myself, because none of that has happened in the story yet. My cousin’s name is Nash Ruskin. His father’s name is Currian Ruskin, and I love him too. My other cousins’ names are Osmond and Thatcher, but they haven’t been born yet. My papa was only allowed to spend five days there, since two of them were spent traveling to and from Indiana, but he enjoyed it, and he got to go back a few times before moving closer anyway.

Microstory 2019: Arkansas

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It makes sense that papa lived in Texas, because it’s next to the ocean. He worked on a submarine, so Corpus Christi was the perfect location. That’s why it’s so weird that he was later moved by the Navy to Arkansas. Arkansas is what’s called a landlocked state, because it doesn’t border the ocean. Most of the states in the United States are like this. But that doesn’t mean there’s no water, of course. It has lakes, and the really long Mississippi River, which is between it and Mississippi. We don’t have much information, because like I said, the military has to be really secretive, but after papa died, my dad and I were looking through his things when we found something interesting. It was a photo of him and some of his Navy buddies when they were young. They were smiling in front of the river, and what looked like a boat behind them. Except that the boat wasn’t above the water very much. It actually looked like a submarine! The Mississippi River is pretty deep, but not really deep enough for a normal sub. Again, no one can tell us anything, so shh, be quiet, but we think that he was testing special technology. They might have come up with a submarine that can move in shallower waters. It would be interesting to know if they could get something like that to work. *winky face*

Microstory 2018: Texas

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After my papa was finished with his education at the Naval academy, he didn’t go back home. He was stationed in Corpus Christi, Texas. He couldn’t tell me exactly what he did while he was there, because the military keeps all of that secret, so this is going to be another really short slide. He was able to say that he lived there for only a year before he was moved somewhere else, which he said was unusual in the Navy. I don’t think that he was always on a submarine. I think that maybe he spent a lot of time carrying out missions on dry land. I even think they sometimes sent him out of the country, but he hadn’t met his husband yet, so he didn’t have to lie to anyone about it, since his parents still lived in Idaho anyway.

Microstory 2017: Rhode Island

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After my papa was finished with college, instead of going out to get a job, he decided to attend a place called Watch Hill Naval Academy. He had to take more classes in order to learn how to be an officer in the Navy and work in a submarine. From the records that my dad found, papa first took a 3 month course to teach him what it’s like to be a military officer. After that, he spent another 6 months learning about nuclear power, which sounds really scary and cool. Then after that, he spent another 6 months using what he learned working at an actual nuclear power plant. Finally, after all that, he got on a sub to learn to operate it with a crew of other officers. Submarines are really dangerous, and hard to use. That’s why he had to spend so much time learning these skills, because if someone messes up on a submarine, it could mean everyone on it dying all at once. Unlike the way it is on a ship, if something goes wrong in a sub, you can’t jump off and swim away. Not only can you not breathe underwater, but the water is really heavy, and it hurts for it to be on top of you when you go deeper and deeper. My papa was really smart, and he also cared about people, which is why he wanted to use his engineering degree to protect this country, and make the world a better place. I’m so proud of him, and I wish I had known all of this about him before. The military is a noble and difficult profession. Probably no one in our class will join the military, but if it turns out to be true, it will only probably be one of us, according to the math.

Microstory 2016: Missouri

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Papa graduated from Promontory University in the Spring of 1996 when he was 22 years old. Like I mentioned before, he met a lot of friends at college, and some of them belonged to a religion called Mormonism. He didn’t believe in the same things that they did, but they still got along with each other. A few of them had families that lived in Missouri, so they invited him out for a big graduation celebration. They had actually already been to a few other parties, but this was the only one that was over a thousand miles away. It took them three days to drive all the way there, which they did to save money on plane or train tickets. They drove through Wyoming and Nebraska on their way there, but of course, he had already been to those two states anyway. They slept the first night in Cheyenne, Wyoming, where some of his old friends lived. Remember that he lived in Buffalo, Wyoming for about ten years when he was younger. On the next night, he once again helped his college buddies with somewhere to sleep. He still had lots of family in Grand Island, Nebraska. He wanted to help them with where to sleep because his friends were going to give him somewhere to sleep once they arrived in Missouri. They lived in Independence, Missouri. The party was really big, with I think over a hundred people! Some of them were just family members, but others were other graduates who had gone to schools in other parts of the country. He stayed with one of his friends’ parents for three nights. He slept on the floor in a bedroom with five other people. Can you imagine? When it was over, he took the train back home to Idaho alone.

The Advancement of Mateo Matic: April 30, 2421

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It was really dark when they arrived on Worlon. Not a single star could get its light through the thick armor of clouds in the atmosphere. They decided to stay near the Nexus, because it was probably the safest place on the planet. There was no sign that the Ochivari who once lived here still kept this place active. They might never have used it at all. Once they developed the ability to travel across the bulkverse, it may have seemed mostly pointless. That, or it had just been enough time. Venus wasn’t responding to them at all; not even Leona. They were where she wanted the team to be, so she was perhaps done providing her guidance. There were countless other Nexa in multiple universes too, so she could have also been quite busy from whatever perspective of time she experienced.

They left the Dante on Flindekeldan. It was funny, they were gifted this giant capital ship that was capable of true faster-than-light travel, but they gave it away again almost immediately, deciding to limit themselves to one of its shuttles. Shortly thereafter, they gave that away too, but that didn’t leave them with absolutely nothing. Ramses was hard at work every day he was in the timestream, and left a lot of the intervening time to a stunted copy of the Constance intelligence. This version of Constance had no personality, and no sense of free will. It could continue solving calculations on its own, but had no need for companionship, or any other form of stimulation. Ramses couldn’t even talk to it. He had to input commands manually. They were developing a lot of projects simultaneously. One of them involved the pocket dimensions that were being stored in the shuttle. He found a way to separate them from the vessel, and make the access portals small enough to fit in one’s literal pocket.

They were skin tight silver bracelets; stylish and not uncomfortable. They served as doorway access keys. Leona and Mateo shared access to the same door, while the rest each had their own abode. Ramses and Leona had a second bracelet, which granted them access to their shared laboratory. Once an individual was inside their respective room, they could then open doors to each other’s rooms, but not from the outside, unless they were wearing extra bracelets. The pocket dimensions could not be stored and established with these bracelets, though. It wasn’t like they could open them from anywhere. They first had to be built at a chosen location. Ramses could do this with a larger device ahead of time, which was sufficiently powerful enough to generate the pocket dimensions. When they were done with a particular location, they could be collapsed again, and rebuilt elsewhere. While active, they were invisible and intangible, even to the team members. One could walk right through it without realizing it if they couldn’t remember where it was. They had to have the intention to open their door with their bracelet by hovering it near where the lock would be if they could see it.

After Ramses taught them how all of this worked, they decided to go to sleep. None of them required the rest, but dangers could be lurking outside. It was best to be fully functional once the sun rose. They didn’t know when that would be, so he quickly rigged up a light sensor on the Nexus to awaken them at the appropriate time. He was still trying to figure out how to set up security cameras on the pocket dimensions. Being invisible to the world outside inherently meant that everything else was invisible from inside as well. Transmitting images in spite these complications was not going to be easy. The scientists still had so many other things to take care of.

When the sun sensor woke them up, it was shortly after midnight central. No one was in a hurry to leave their pockets but Mateo. He opened his invisible door, and took a breath of fresh air. And fresh it was. This world was apparently free from all pollution, having recovered from centuries of it brought upon by its native inhabitants. No one on the team knew all that much about the Ochivari. In fact, Mateo, Angela, and Marie probably knew the most of all. It wasn’t clear when they abandoned their homeworld so it could be brought back to homeostasis, but they had returned at some point this past year. A group of them were standing at the entrance to the Nexus, hanging out as if smokers on a break from work. They stared at him, shocked at his sudden appearance, and not sure what to do about it. Mateo could tuck himself back through the door, but then what? They would just wait for him to come back out again eventually. “Hello,” he called politely. He cleared his throat, and closed the door behind him. “How do?”

Even though they very much looked like aliens, Ochivari had very humanoid faces, and very humanoid facial expressions. One of them raised his eyebrow like Mr. Spock. He pulled a handheld device out of his pocket, and seemingly snapped a photo of Mateo with it. He tapped on the screen a few times, and then showed it to his friends. “Mister Matic.”

Mateo rolled his eyes. More fans. Cool. “I see my reputation precedes me. “Friends or foes?”

“We’re friends,” another Ochivar claimed. “We took this planet back from the Ochivari a few months ago.”

“Forgive me, I thought that’s what you were.”

“No,” the first one said, shaking his head. “We’re Krekel. Same species, technically speaking, but with different ideas about how to deal with aliens. Particularly, we don’t cause harm. You are in no danger around us.”

“I appreciate that,” Mateo replied, having trouble believing it. He wanted to trust them, but he had heard nothing but bad things about the critters that evolved on this planet, and his personal experience supported this position. When did this reportedly good faction break off, and under what circumstances exactly?

“We see that you’re still concerned. What can we do to make you feel more comfortable and safe?”

“We could sing,” another one suggested.

“Oh, yes, let’s sing.”

“No, that’s okay,” Mateo said, trying to sound as polite as possible.

“Nah, it’ll be good. You’ll love it.” The Ochivari—or rather the Krekel—gave each other some space, and started to play. They didn’t do anything with their mouths. The sounds they made came from them rubbing their wings and legs together like crickets. Cricket. Was that related to Krekel?

It was actually rather good and mesmerizing. Mateo didn’t even notice that everyone else had come out of their pockets to listen. Once the orchestra was done, they took a bow, and let the humans clap. “Are we sure about them?” Mateo asked quietly.

“No,” Leona admitted.

“I am,” said someone else. It was Ellie Underhill. “They’re fine. They’re friends!” She waved over at the Krekel orchestra, who all waved back.

“When did you get here?” Leona questioned.

“About the same time you did. I teleported down from The Phoenix.”

“That’s in orbit right now?”

“We’re using it to protect the Krekel. They can’t travel in ships, because they’ve not figured out a way to transport them through their bulk portals, so they require protection if they want to maintain a stronghold on this planet. The Ochivari have few qualms killing the dozens of people that would need to be sacrificed to accommodate the mass of a starship.”

“What makes the Krekel different?” Angela asked.

“They’re from a different timeline. They were taught how to travel the bulk without killing each other. That’s why Ochivari are so angry all the time. Every time they do it, there is a strong chance that they’ll die, and an equal chance that a friend will. Without that, the Krekel were able to keep their social civility. You really are safe here.”

“Okay, we’re safe,” Leona began to reason, “but that doesn’t explain why we’re here. We were sent.”

“You were?” Ellie was surprised. “If that’s true, then it has nothing to do with the past. Something is going to happen, and whoever sent you wants you to be here for it. Now I’m worried. Nobody sends you nowhere without a reason.”

“It’s probably a good thing you brought that ship,” Marie decided. “What, are you on a break?”

Ellie shook her head. “No, the work is done. Somebody did it for us.”

“Wadya mean?” Ramses asked.

“Everyone still left on Violkomin was transported to their new homeworlds all over the galactic neighborhood. It wasn’t all at once, but it was a lot quicker than it would have taken for us to do it with the Phoenix.”

Everyone looked down at Mateo. He chuckled softly. “You’re welcome.”

“You’re responsible for that?” Ellie questioned him.

“Not me personally. I asked a god.”

“Oh. Well, thank you anyway, and thank them for me. That’s a load off my chest.” They stood there awkwardly for a moment. “So, do you want it back?” she offered.

Rames reached over and unlocked the door to his personal living space. “I don’t think that will be necessary. We have everything that we could possibly ever require.”

“If you don’t need the Phoenix anymore either,” Leona concurred, “find someone new who does.”

“Yeah, I think I’ll do that.” Ellie took a breath, and clapped her hands. “Anyway, we were just about to share a breakfast. Humans and Krekels don’t eat the same foods, but we have plenty to share. That is, if your bodies even need that anymore. Mine doesn’t, but I still like to partake anyway.”

“That sounds lovely.”

“Are they going to be there?” Mateo asked, pointing.

“Those are just the Nexus guards. Subordinaries. I do not know them. We’ll be dining with the Domini.”

“Are they nice?” Olimpia asked.

Ellie grimaced a little. “No. We’re working on it. They’re dictators, but I’m trying to introduce them to democracy. They’re mostly peaceful, unlike their Ochivari counterparts, but they’re not altruists.”

“We better get dressed,” Leona decided. She opened a door, but not to her and Mateo’s dwelling. She went into the lab instead, and later showed up at breakfast armed. It wasn’t necessary then, but they were all grateful that she repeated it the next day.

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Extremus: Year 65

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The peacetime has persisted. First Chair Aleshire was anything but a lame duck during his final term. He left very little for Tinaya to have to accomplish, especially since she had her own—now completed—list of things she wanted to get done before she was even elected to the highest position. More meetings. That is what she spends her days dealing with. There is a committee for everything on this ship. There has to be, to keep people gainfully employed, so their contribution scores can stay high. There is only so much work that actually has to be done to keep people alive, so they contrive some jobs that aren’t absolutely necessary. And the First Chair is required to be at every meeting that doesn’t conflict with the time of a different one. In such a case, there is a priority list that dictates which one takes precedent. And yes, there have been meetings to make sure that the priority list itself is reasonable, and still makes sense. She has had to go to those ones too. They’re at the top of the list.

She needs a break, so she went to bed really early last night so she can have some time to herself, and of course, she’s going to do that in Attic Forest. It’s still a very popular hangout spot, but she wants to be alone. As First Chair, it’s hard to do that. Even when only a few people are around, they like to crowd her, so the best time to go upstairs is when everyone is asleep. They tried to institute visiting hours up here, because people kept sleeping in the grass, but they proved to be quite unfavorable. Instead, they made sleeping against policy at all hours of the day, and civilian security patrols the grounds to prevent it from happening. That’s something they never thought they would need, but natural forests have uneven soil, creepy critters, and bad weather. This is a highly controlled environment, making it a great place to sleep. But if they let anyone do that, they would have to let everyone, and it would fill up quick.

She steps through the entrance, and is surprised to see a number of people already out and about. A couple is walking by with their robot dog. A family is enjoying breakfast at a picnic table. If there are this many people this close to the entrance, who knows how many there are total? No, this won’t do. She’ll have to find somewhere else. Fortunately, there is still one perfect spot that nearly no one knows about yet. She quietly backs away before anyone sees her, and heads downstairs. It has been five years since she planted the Central Sequoia on the lowest level. It grows faster than a normal giant sequoia, so it now stands at five meters tall. There’s less room to move around, but she can sit on the floor, and lean up against it. Plus, there’s no policy against sleeping here—because the general public isn’t meant to know about it yet anyway—so if she falls under, it’ll be okay. But this chamber isn’t empty either. Senior Forest Guide Cainan Suárez is already here, but not for the same reason. He appears to have brought a girl.

“Since when has she been authorized?” is the first thing that Tinaya says.

“Madam Chair!” Cainan and his partner scramble to put their clothes back on.

Tinaya doesn’t mind the sex in an inappropriate location thing, but not in this particular location with whoever this young woman is. “Who are you?”

“This is Dominica. Dominica Bravo.”

“Can she not answer for herself?”

Cainan taps on the girl’s shoulder. When she looks back at him, he lifts both palms upwards, presses one palm towards her, and then taps his two first fingers together in the shape of an X.

Dominica faces Tinaya again. She sticks her index finger in the air, and holds her other three fingers against her thumb. She taps it upon her chest, then drops her hand down diagonally, and taps the opposite side of her torso.

“D-Lord; Dominica,” Cainan interprets. “That’s her sign name.”

Someone whose knowledge Tinaya absorbed when she and Lataran had that mishap with the mind sharing machine that Omega and Valencia built knew sign language. So she knows it too. She pops her index finger upwards out of her fist, and rubs her fist against her chest. “I understand. Sorry.”

Dominica opens her hand, and taps her thumb against her chest to say, it’s fine.

Tinaya signs everything she says from now on. “You two really should not be in here, especially not if you’re going to do that. Don’t you have your own cabin?”

“I wanted to take her someplace special,” Cainan explains, also translating everything into ASL.

Dominica signs, I’m sorry.

“It doesn’t sound like it’s your fault at all,” Tinaya replies, “but please tell no one of this tree. It is going to be a surprise in the future.”

I understand. I’m good at keeping secrets.

Tinaya looks up at the security camera. It’s showing a solid red indicator light, rather than a blinking one, which means it’s been tampered with. “What did you do?”

“It’s just a simple loop,” Cainan clarifies. “Three hours long, during a period where no one was here. No one will suspect a thing.”

Tinaya checks her watch. “The system is going to start watering the tree in an hour, and if the camera doesn’t see it happen, it will trigger an alarm.”

He smirks. “I factored that in. The loop perfectly matches the watering schedule.”

Dominica scoffs, and smacks Cainan in the shoulder.

“I mean Dominica scheduled it. She’s the computer genius. I’m just the tree guy.”

I’m not a genius. I run the graphics for most of the daytime game shows. Some of the most iconic game shows that Earth ever created have been replicated here on Extremus, like Jeopardy! and Password. Someone keeps requesting to make a version of Survivor in the Attic Forest, but it would require cutting down trees, and somehow digging a miniature ocean in the corner, so that’s not gonna happen. If they wanna do that, they can code it in virtual reality. That’s not technically beyond Tinaya’s jurisdiction, but she has no control over what people do with their own minds, and VR is considered predominantly an extension of personal thought.

“She’s just being modest,” Cainan counters. “Her job does not exemplify the limit of her skills.”

Dominica turns away bashfully.

Tinaya nods and sighs. “Go back to the residences.”

“Separately, errr...?” Cainan asks.

“I ain’t your mama. Just don’t break any more laws, okay?”

“Okay.”

Thank you, Madam First Chair.

After the younger ones are gone, Tinaya stares at the spot where they had spread out the picnic blanket. It didn’t look like they had, uhh...finished, but it still no longer felt like an acceptable place to sit and relax, which was the whole point of coming down here. Perhaps it won’t seem as strange after enough time has passed, but now she’ll have to find yet another place to be alone, besides her own stateroom. That’s not a good choice, though. There’s a reason she doesn’t do that. That’s where she experiences stress dreams about all of those meetings, and she sometimes takes work calls there. It’s not particularly calming for her anymore. Her best hope is going to the spa. It’s not open 24/7 for most people, but it is for people like her. She tries not to take that kind of thing for granted, but desperate times...

A man is chuckling from behind the tree, which is just wide enough to obscure her vision of him. He quickly steps out from it, though. It’s Arqut Grieves. “Kids, right? They are unruly in any culture.”

“They’re both in their twenties, as am I for the next few months. They’re not kids anymore. How did you know they were here?”

Arqut reaches up as high as he can on the wall, and taps what at first appears to be nothing but air, but a secret invisible camera appears for half a second each time it’s touched. “Redundancy. They’ve been coming here for weeks.”

“You’ve been...watching them?”

“Heavens no, I’m not a creeper,” Arqut defends. “The AI watches them, alerting me to when they arrive, and when they leave. Then it erases its own memory. It’s not just them either. It watches for any visits. You come here about once a month. Lataran and her guy have been here a few times, just talking. That’s it, though. The four of them loop the regular camera. You’re the only one who just turns it off.”

“I need access to that camera,” Tinaya contends, pointing towards where the invisible one is. “Along with any others. And I need to know any other secrets that you’ve been keeping from me.”

“Consider it done,” he promises. He looks at her funny.

“What is it now?” she questions.

“You always come here alone.”

“So you do watch me.”

“No, but I notice your arrivals. You never come with your security detail, which you’re not supposed to do. I’m very protective of you, and it was hard to not do the math, and recognize that you’re the only one who doesn’t use it as a makeout spot.”

“Is this about the marriage you want me to go through with to boost my approval ratings?” She nixed that suggestion from Cleader last year, yet he keeps pushing for it. He’s actually planned a lot, even though she doesn’t even have a partner. It’s very weird and awkward, and it makes her uncomfortable. Obviously, she doesn’t want to have to do this. She doesn’t want to get married, and even if she did, she would want to fall in love first. Not only that, but she doesn’t want to worry so much about reëlection. That is not what civil service is about. “I keep having to tell you that I am not interested. If I get the vote next year, that’s great, but if not, that’s okay too. All I care about is trying—”

“I love you.”

“Huh?”

“Sorry, I know that sounds like I’m suggesting that I be the one who you marry but I’m just confessing. I love you. I always have. This place is...it has a magical power. I couldn’t help myself but to tell you. I’ve been keeping it to myself, but I felt...compelled.”

“Arqut...”

He suddenly looks like a deer in the headlights. “Never mind! I’m just joking! Ha ha ha!” He teleports away.

What the hell was that?

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