Extremus: Year 135

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Waldemar was different for about a year. At first, Silveon thought that maybe someone had supplanted his mind with their own, or was mind-controlling him. Or that it was just straight up a clone. But his doctor could find absolutely no evidence that he had been tampered with. The doctor used all sorts of lingo that Silveon didn’t understand, but the parts of the brain responsible for things like impulse control and empathy were lighting up, whereas they didn’t do that before. And then suddenly, it was gone again. It wasn’t entirely gone. He did not go back to the way he was before, but Silveon was present for another scan, and the parts of his brain he used during that year have returned to the way they were. It’s sad and frustrating. The hope was fleeting.

Silveon has been trying to figure out a way to get that back, but he still doesn’t understand what happened. He’s going to have to bite the bullet and reach out to Sable. He hasn’t cut her out of his life, but he has kept his distance. As much as she will tolerate. Maybe it’s time for him to try to gather some new allies. They won’t be like the originals, but no one possibly could be. That doesn’t mean they can’t help. She’s powerful, and while she denied being responsible for Waldemar’s change before, maybe she has some new insights. He’s at her cabin now, trying to work up the courage.

Before he can reach up to ring the bell, he suddenly finds himself teleporting to the other side of the door.

Sable is sitting on the couch, dressed in revealing clothing, looking at him with a smirk. She sets her tablet down. “My oh my, Steward. Aren’t we the hesitant one?”

“I didn’t come for whatever you think I’m here for,” Silveon explains.

Sable looks down at her attire like she forgot what she was wearing. “Oh, this? This isn’t for you. This is just comfortable. I change for no man, and I mean that both figuratively and literally. What do you want, Silveon? Help with your boy, the Captain?”

“You said you wanted to help, so here I am, reaching out.”

Sable dismissively picks her tablet back up and starts swiping through it. “That was a long time ago. I’m not sure if I’m interested anymore. You’ll have to convince me.”

“Well, what can I do in service to that?” Silveon asks.

Sable stops a moment and looks back up at him. “You can tell me.”

“Tell you what?”

“Tell me everything,” Sable says, not really clarifying.

“Everything about what?”

“Everything,” she repeats. “Tell me how you knew Waldemar was going to be captain, and what kind, and what he was going to do. Tell me what you did to stop him, and why you didn’t do a very good job of it. Tell me what my mother knows, what Audrey knew, what your parents knew. Everything means everything..”

He has avoided this conversation so long, but she’s a lot older now, and as he was just contemplating how he needs people on his side, now that he has lost everyone else. So he sits down and takes a breath. “Okay, I’ll tell you everything. If you use it against me...well...then I guess that’s what happens. I’m an old man now, and I’m tired, and as you pointed out, it didn’t really work. I mean, I think it did a little. Things are better than they were in the previous timeline.”

“The previous timeline?” She was intrigued.

“Yes,” Silveon says. “The reason I knew what Waldemar was going to become was because I already saw it. And I’ve been trying to stop it my whole life.”

Sable curls her legs in and leans towards him. “Finally. Let’s get into it.”

Microstory 2715: Leaning Forward and Ready to Leave

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It’s over. Well, the first part of Isavet’s plan is anyway. She has learned what she needed to, and she had a plausible reason to learn it. She was born under the Nordome Network, or whatever it is. It was her home. She was just following what the gamemakers set up for her. Had she left, started a life on the outside, and then tried to commit to this training, it would have looked suspicious. Or rather, it could have. She doesn’t actually know that, because she doesn’t know what life is like away from the Nordic nations. She is going to leave soon, but she has to find her family first.

Caleb takes her back, but she doesn’t let him follow her this time. Helping with her revenge efforts was noble and very nice of him. She appreciated it. But she is in no physical danger here. It is deeply personal. He respects her decision to end the simulation here. He gave her his contact information, so they can reconnect on the outside. He and his men are going to go back down south, and continue on with their ancient Norse ways. He doesn’t know when he’s going to leave, but it probably won’t be too long. You’re evidently supposed to stay for a lifetime, but you don’t have to, and it kind of feels like he’s grown bored of it. And he probably wants to connect with Isavet, though in other ways, and he can’t do that unless he’s on the outside too.

“Father,” Isavet says. She has finally found them. She has found Ronan at last. She doesn’t see anyone else here. “Where are mother, Vith, and Leif?”

“They’ve gone, my child,” her father says. He takes her into a big hug. “This is no place for a boy like Leif. I am here to invite you to come with us. Now, I’m sure you’re nervous, and you have every right to see this world as—”

“I want to leave,” she interrupts. “I completed my work, and I want to see what else is out there. I may be okay with the violence here, in a way that Leif never was, but it’s still not real. It was only catharsis. I needed to see it through, because that is how you raised me. But now I’m ready to see how you live. Take me out of here, father.”

He smiles proudly. “Okay,” Ronan says. “Let us head for the nearest exit.”

Isavet nods, and follows him as he walks off, not bothering to break down camp. “How did you know that I was back? Can you watch me on your cameras?”

“No, I’ve been here. That is why I told you where we would be.”

“What?” Isavet questions. He shouldn’t have stayed here, all this time. He had no idea how long she was going to take. It could have been years. That might not mean much to immortals like him, but she would have felt really, really bad about it, instead of just really bad. “I can’t believe you did that. Do you not miss your son?”

“I do, but you’re important to me too. What you said, needing to see this through? I respect that immensely. I do not have access to security cameras. I had to stay.”

Isavet frowns. Her guilt will remain at least another several months, she’s sure.

Ronan stops and bends down over a patch of grass. “I wish to officially declare my intention to leave the simulation. Please raise the lift for egress.” The ground parts for him. A block of it ascends from the ground. A door opens leading to a small room. “It’s okay, Isavet. This will take us to our new home. Our family awaits.”

She trusts him. Isavet steps in first, followed by Ronan. The doors close on their own. The chirpings of a bird she is not familiar with soothe her as the walls and floor shake. She’s not scared, though. This is what is meant to happen. After a few minutes, this lift object stops. The doors reopen. The first thing she sees is a computer.

Microstory 2714: No Holding Back

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Caleb gave Isavet some money so she could hitch a ride on a boat headed for Saxony. It takes her a week to make it to the shore in the first place. The men on the vessel pay her no mind. They don’t care that she is a woman, or that she is traveling alone. It gives her time to think, and draw up plans in her head. She is confident in her skills, but she still needs to make sure that she does this smartly. If she waltzes into the enemy camp, and starts trying to slaughter them all at once, they might lose a few men, but they’ll figure it out, and swarm her before she can finish. She has to be stealthy and methodical; still quick, but not hasty or sloppy.

Not too long into the journey, she sees something in the water that she recognizes. When she was a little girl, her mother showed her and her brother future world imagery. It explained that they were under a big dome made of diamond, and that the sky itself was like these images, but grander in scale. Her mother said that when you approach the walls, you can see the illusion begin to break down a little, especially if you look at where it meets the water. You will start to see the right angles that shouldn’t be there. That’s what Isavet is seeing now. She realizes that they are passing through a tunnel, and traveling to a new dome. The men on the boat don’t seem to notice. They were made not to. She ignores it too. That is not the point of the journey.

She makes it to Saxony. She knows who she’s after, but she doesn’t know where they are. She begins to ask questions and follow trails, and after another few weeks, she finds them. She’s hiding in the bushes now. She has to watch first, and take note of their routines. Particularly, she is looking for moments when they are most vulnerable, and when they peel off as individuals. As she’s watching, she hears a twig snap behind her. She unsheathes her sword, and swings it as she’s spinning around. She ends up slicing right through Caleb’s spear, and quite nearly Caleb himself.

“Whoa, there! I’m on your side, remember?” Caleb questions.

“Hey!” one of the members of the Vargstoth clan cries. “Intruders!”

“We need to run,” Isavet tells Caleb. There’s no way they’re taking on an army.

“We got you,” Caleb replies. He lifts his hand and gives the signal.

His warband raise their heads up from the brush, and run towards the enemy.

Isavet doesn’t understand. He said that they wouldn’t help. Why are they here? She will have to think about that later, because the fight is on. She turns back around, and runs forward. She starts killing the Vargstoth in droves, but she doesn’t do it alone. After her, Hamarr takes down the most Saxons. He’s laughing all the way; he loves this stuff. But everyone else is very enthusiastic too. No one is holding back. Not all of them make it in the end, but they’re not real anyway.

The fight doesn’t last long. Many of their opponents were not near enough to their weapons, and none of them was expecting a fight fight. They have a lot of experience raiding other camps, but little in being raided. They were arrogant, and it got them killed. After the last enemy is dead, Isavet catches her breath, as the others are checking for stragglers. Now that the dust has literally settled, they can talk. “What are you doing here? You said you wouldn’t help, and wouldn’t make an exception.”

“I meant it when I said it, but then I got to thinking about how vulnerable you are,” Caleb replies. “Don’t worry about authenticity. I’m their leader. I make the rules.”

Isavet continues to breathe, not knowing what to say. She starts with, “thanks.”

Microstory 2713: The Laws That Govern

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Isavet’s training doesn’t ever have to be over, but it can be today. She has been with this warband for the last six months, and has learned a lot. She has turned out to be wrong about Caleb. He knows his way around a sword and a spear. All the guys do. They might be mercenaries, but they are honorable men. Her plan to prove herself on day one worked. They accepted her, and treated her like one of their own just about immediately. Of course, she had to continue to be worthy of their regard, but she never felt like her bust had anything to do with it.

The men have not been too forward with her either. It was a few months before she realized that it’s because Caleb, as their leader, essentially has inherent claim to her as his woman. One thing she understands about the world that lies beyond is that there is no such thing as owning another person, in any sense. So he has not tried to exercise any control over her, except in his capacity as her leader. He has not technically relinquished this claim, however, hopefully so no one else tries to take it, and not because he is planning something for the future.

Isavet stands at a crossroads now. Two choices lie before her. Will she begin to go on campaigns with the men, or is she satisfied with her training? If she stays with them for two more years, they will help her get revenge. If she cuts out now, she will have to do it on her own, but now that she has the skills, that might be okay. That doesn’t mean she’s confident yet. She is still thinking.

“Do you want to know what I think,” Caleb asks, “or should I just shut up?”

“I am open to your opinion,” Isavet begins, “as long as it is a good one.”

Caleb sighs. “You were born to this world, and in this world, death is permanent. That is a gray area for Castlebourne. Certain domes are off-limits to people like you, because of how dangerous they are. Being born in here is not something that the laws accounted for, but if you will indulge me, I would like to show you this.” He removes something from his bag. It looks like paper, but it’s glowing.

Isavet recognizes it. That is the magical technology which her mother showed her when they were trying to explain that this was all only a simulation. “I don’t want to mess with that. I will see plenty when I’m ready to leave, which will be on my terms.”

“I respect that, so I’ll just tell you. The law was changed because of Talus. I don’t think they are going to force you to leave, but someone may show up here to strongly encourage it. You would be well within your rights to return if you opt for virtual imm—”

“Don’t say that word,” Isavet warns. “That means something to my people. It is not something that you can simply request from one of your friends, or however it is you do it. I like myself the way I am. I’m not changing. When I go out there and fight the men who burned down my home, I will do it knowing that it could be the last thing I do on Earth. I’m okay with that, and you’re going to have to be okay with it too.”

“But that’s just it,” Caleb says. “You’re not on Earth.”

“I know. It doesn’t matter. I have made my choice. Your king can send as many people as he wants, I’m not leaving my world until the job is done,” Isavet explains.

“Okay. So what are you going to do? I won’t make it easy on you, and except you from our traditions. Will you stay and fight for our causes, or will you go off alone?”

“I believe that you have shown me the light,” Isavet says. “Now that I know others may be after me, all I can do is stay alone. Goodbye, Caleb. Thank you for teaching me.”

Microstory 2712: First Things First

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Isavet doesn’t know how many people from other worlds have come to this one to pretend to be real Norsemen, as she is. Either her parents don’t know, or chose not to tell her. She remembers asking questions when she was younger, but then real life took over, and it didn’t seem relevant anymore. She did sometimes listen to the two of them when they would have their private conversations about it. She was a terribly curious little girl. Now that she’s older, she has decided, however, that only one thing out there interests her, and she is not yet ready for it. This is her home, and she will fight for it, even if it doesn’t matter to everyone. Like this guy, Caleb. What kind of name is Caleb?

“I don’t know what kind of name it is,” Caleb answers. “It’s my real name.”

“Maybe we could go somewhere a little more private to talk?” Isavet suggests.

Caleb looks over at his mercenaries. “Nah, that won’t be necessary. I’m the only visitor here, and when you talk about things they don’t understand, they’re programmed to just ignore it. They’ll say something like, I wouldn’t know anything about that, and just move on from there. Have you not interacted very much with the NPCs?”

Isavet flinches. She’s heard that term before. She doesn’t know what it stands for, but it doesn’t sound very nice. She also doesn’t want to get into this. “Look, I was born here. I don’t care where you’re from, or what lies beyond the walls. This is where I belong. Now I’m looking for someone to train me. I didn’t know I would run into someone like you. If I have to move on, I will. Just tell me before I waste my time.”

“No, it’s okay,” Caleb says. “You looked like you were immersive, but I didn’t know that you were full native. Let’s have some lunch and talk about what you need.”

He respects her wishes, and doesn’t push it. She must admit, she is glad that he’s just a normal person. He’s not following any sort of programming, as her father would call it. She doesn’t have to prove herself further. He’s just going to help. Caleb didn’t come in here with meaningful knowledge of Isavet’s culture, or any sort of training. It sounds like he woke up one day and simply decided to give it a try. He has been here for the last seven years. That is what she never understood about her parents, who have been here even longer. What kind of life must they be leading where they can simply take a break for decades to lead an entirely different life? No, she doesn’t care about that. One day, she will venture through the gates and complete her final mission, but she will have to wait. She will have to protect the family she has here first.

Caleb gives her some options for who might be able to teach her how to fight better than what she learned from watching her father and Vith. This is where one of those so-called NPCs comes in handy, because none of her family members grew up like this, so their training honestly can’t be trusted. If one of these men has simply been magically given the skills that she needs, then they might be the best tools for her to receive them herself, since she can’t experience the same magic.

As it turns out, Hamarr, who all but attacked her when she arrived, is one of the candidates from which she can choose. She selects him for the irony, and because she takes the blood bond they formed seriously. They don’t waste any time. They get right into it after lunch. They start...with chores. She’s annoyed at it, but very experienced, and she’s going to respect their ways. Hamarr says that with his wound, he cannot chop wood, so she has to do it for him. Caleb doesn’t contradict the claim. So she agrees, but she will only do this to a point. If she finds out they are only using her, they will regret it.

Microstory 2711: Dropping the Hammer

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Isavet strides right through the mercenary camp. Little by little, the men notice her and stop what they’re doing. They’re mostly cleaning their spears, polishing their spears, and sharpening their spears. They’re doing a lot with their spears. Isavet asked her father for a sword, but he promised that his friend in the city would forge her a better one, and that she wouldn’t need it until she got there. That is one thing she is missing out on. But it’s in the wrong direction, and she doesn’t want to waste precious time on formal lessons. She wants to get into it. She has already fought before when she had to defend her home. She understands the mechanics; she just needs more practice.

As Isavet is walking through, she’s looking for a target. She isn’t going to go after the biggest guy here. She may be a fighter at heart, but she’s wise enough to know her limits. She doesn’t want the lankiest, least muscular guy either, though. She wants someone right in the middle; preferably one who thinks he’s the cock of the day. Maybe it’s him? No, he looks like he may be soft, like Isavet’s brother. There’s definitely something different about him. They are all leering at her with lust, but he looks like he wants to court her first. Which is obviously not what she needs right now. Moving along.

There he is. There’s her man. He’s stepping out from his tent area, arms folded. He is leaving plenty of room for her to pass, but he will close any gap she tries to walk through. She can tell that he’s at the ready. So she plays into it. She pretends to try to walk by so he can reach out to stop her. She was going to insult his status, and demand to speak with the leader, but his hand lands right upon her breast. Now she has to take him down without warning. She twists his wandering thumb, and then his wrist, and once he’s good and in pain, she pushes him the rest of the way down to his back. He’s big enough where she cannot remain standing, so she literally rolls with it, right over him, so she can let go and stand back up on his other side. No one moves to stop her.

As she is trying to pivot to hit him while he’s down, he grasps her ankle. She doesn’t like that, so she pulls out her knife and slashes him on the inside of his elbow. That makes him let go. She slams the handle against his eye socket, and slashes his cheek, but very shallowly. It shouldn’t leave a scar if he’s careful with it. “Try anything, and I’ll go deeper next time.” She moves her blade over to his manhood. “Or maybe I’ll just make a clean cut. How does that sound?”

The man shakes his head as he’s holding pressure against his injuries.

“Does anyone volunteer to fight for this man’s honor!” she cries. The crowd still doesn’t move. Isavet places the tip of her dagger against the palm of her hand. She digs in and twists back and forth a few times. Once her blood has pooled, she reaches down, and squeezes it around the wound on her victim’s arm. “Now we are bonded for life.” She pulls as hard as she can to help him back up to his feet. “What is your name?”

“Hamarr,” he answers, “son of Stein.”

“I don’t want to join your clan, Hamarr, but I do want someone to teach me. I took you down with hardly any experience at all. Imagine what I could do with a little training. While I’m with you, I will fight by your side, but when I’m ready to go, I go.”

“That is not my decision.” Hamarr points to the man who looked at her funny.

The apparent leader walks up with what Isavet’s mother once called swagger. He holds his hand out towards her. “Welcome to my camp. My name is Caleb. I’m from a planet called Thālith al Naʽāmāt Bida. Ever heard of it?”

The Advancement of Mateo Matic: September 16, 2560

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The team decided to leave before midnight central so they wouldn’t have to explain their end-of-the-day disappearance. They were determined to hunker down and really figure out who in this galaxy might actually need their help. The larger colonies could have huge problems, but the infrastructure and procedures to deal with them. The single-person sites were harder to pinpoint, and populated by people who were typically there because they wanted to be alone. It was the sites like Patsy Richelieu Best First Quarter Star colony that were likely most in need. Of course, this particular colony didn’t need anything from them. It was wild to see, though. They would kind of always expect a colony to either be the fruits of a grand cosmic exodus, or only one person looking to disconnect from society. There was a lot of middle ground, though, and they would probably meet others like Patsy and her cake-loving friends.

“What we need is some kind of monitoring system,” Mateo suggested, not knowing exactly what he was going for. “Like in movies where aliens are here to protect us. I guess they don’t have to be benevolent. They just have to know a lot about us, and have spent time studying us without giving themselves away.”

“It sounds like you’re talking about invisible probes,” Leona offered. “Movies often don’t explain how they remain hidden, but it would be something like that.”

“Invisible probes, I can do,” Ramses decided. He jumped over to the nearest workstation. “It can stay optically invisible using holography, and shield its waste heat signature using a miniature hot pocket. It would be able to move on its own power, and teleport when necessary. It would send signals exclusively through the bulk, so only we receive the data. It keeps watch over establishments throughout the year, and compiles a report for when we return.” He was getting really excited about the possibilities. “I wish I had thought of it myself. We keep jumping from place to place when we just need to let the information come to us.” He looked up to find everyone staring at him.

“Go on,” Romana encouraged. “What else were you thinking?”

“That I should work alone,” Ramses said. He reached over, and squeezed the band of his watch.

After he held the button down for a few seconds, the whole team vanished.

“Did he just kick us out of his lab?” Angela questioned.

“Wow. Rude,” Marie joked. “But it’s smart for him to have that, for security.”

“It might take a few days,” Leona estimated. “He won’t just be designing the new probe, but testing for failures and black swan events. In the meantime, I think I would like to consider building something for us all that is in this dimension, instead of our pocket dimension habitats. Nothing against them, but they’re more for mobile use.”

“I agree,” Mateo said. “If our enemies are right, and this is going to be an important planet in the future, then I imagine we stay here for a long time. Or not. Perhaps, like all the other things we’ve had in the past, we’ll hand this off to someone else, while we move on to something else.”

“I believe what Ramses is doing will keep us busy for quite a while,” Romana pointed out. “There is probably a lot going on in the galaxy that we simply do not know about, so it seems boring. We lack data, and we’re about to get it. But yeah, I’m in.”

They sat down to start drawing up plans for residences fit for an interstellar capital—not too gaudy—they were not trying to play themselves as gods. By the end of the day, however, Ramses was finished with his probes. They sent a small test batch out to some past establishments. They returned to the timestream the next year with a hit.

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Extremus: Year 134

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The fairytale dream is over. Waldemar no longer feels emotions, but he is not back to his old self either. That experience has changed him, and he’s having mixed feelings about it. No, that’s obviously the wrong way to word it. He’s having contradicting thoughts. On the one hand, it’s familiar, so he’s much more comfortable again. This is how he grew up, and it seems right. It was working before. People weren’t happy, but he didn’t need them to be. Still, it’s not like the end of the year of empathy means that he can revert. He’s now living in a paradox. The logic in how he behaved, and the kinds of decisions he made, are still in his head. They still make a lot of sense. The darkness is fueling his rage, but it’s also...intoxicating, and he doesn’t want to give it up again. Because, now that he has spent time without it, he realizes that that’s what it is. It’s fuel. It makes him feel strong and powerful. There’s that word again, though.

He’s standing in his bathroom now, staring at the mirror. He’s looking at himself in disgust, not because that’s what he’s feeling, but because he knows others would if they knew the truth. He slaps himself in the cheek. “Feel something,” he urges.

He feels nothing.

He slaps himself harder. “Feel something!” he cries.

Nothing.

“Feel something!” he screams at the top of his lungs.

“Stop that,” comes a voice from behind him. “Stop hitting yourself.”

He turns to see his late wife, Audrey Kristiansen. “Where have you been?” He declared her dead, but he never knew what happened. When he didn’t feel anything, he didn’t care, and when he did, he wanted to leave her alone if she wasn’t really dead.

“I like the new place. I would have felt more at home here when I was alive.” During the empathy year, he downgraded himself to smaller quarters to look more like the common man, and he didn’t regret it. It didn’t really matter.

“You know I don’t like to repeat myself,” he told her.

“And you know I don’t like to be ordered around. I’m not one of your crewmembers. I was your wife, and you treated me like shit.”

“You knew who I was when you married me,” he pointed out.

“Yes, I did. That’s why I did it. I took that bullet so no one else would have to. And I died for it. Now you are at a crossroads. You are starting to believe that the only way you can get respect from both sides of the imaginary political line is if you align yourself with a new belle. I’m here to tell you that you don’t. You don’t have to be the ruthless dictator, and you don’t have to be a squirming bleeding heart. You just have to follow logic. And logically, hurting people has never made any sense. Yes, you have a darkness. You can’t ignore it, so I’m not going to try to tell you to. But it doesn’t have to define you. The year that you felt something taught you what others experience all the time. Don’t try to get it back, but don’t let it go either. Learn from it. Be better.” She paused for a moment. “And stop with the self-harm. It makes you look weak.”

“I am not..weak!” he cries, lunging towards her with the anger of a magnetar.

She doesn’t blink. “Prove it. Get out there, and do your job. Lead the people. Don’t tell them what to do. Tell them what needs to be done, so they can decide. If you don’t know what needs to be done, then lean on advisors. That is what they’re there for.”

“You’re not really here. What are you?” Waldemar questions.

“That’s not the question you need to ask yourself, Captain,” she begins. “The question is...who are you?”

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