Memories flooded Ron's brain, both from his own gray matter and through his wetware. Long-unused images, sounds, feelings tumbled their way through him and straight into his stomach. Legs weak, Ron made an effort to stay upright.
Yuma!
The young woman bounced up and down like a schoolgirl, a huge grin plastered on her face. She was clearly pleased at Ron's reaction to her presence. "How've you been, Popsicle?"
The pet name sent more tendons quivering in Ron's legs. The small bit of his head that continued to tick said Yuma's presence could be a ruse, but if so, it was a very, very good trick. She wasn't exactly like he remembered her, but in every essence, she was his adopted daughter.
The daughter he hadn't seen in fifty thousand years.
Somehow sensing that he was a little too wobbly for comfort, Yuma slipped his arm over her shoulders, snuggling like she used to do when they would watch TV in the apartment in Alexandria. The tactile memory, unlike the flood of other recollections, steadied Ron enough to form a sentence.
"How…" he started, then tried again. "How've you been, kiddo? Long time no see." There, he could do it. Score a point for the Ronster.
Yuma giggled. "Oh, you know, been around, seen this and that. I'd love to tell you all about it, but I think we're supposed to have a grownup discussion first." She regarded Ron with some concern. "You gonna be OK?"
Straightening up, he glanced at Kim for support. Her face had a worried yet surprised look. She shrugged a little, then nodded her head. Kim seemed to think he should go along with this, at least, and he trusted her judgment. Her support lent him strength, and he stood free of Yuma's arm.
"No problem," he told Yuma. "But before we talk, I need to do something." Ron quickly walked to Kim and gently took her into his arms. Touching foreheads, they connected through their wetware interfaces and shared an intimate, wordless moment. Be careful, they didn't say to each other. Be careful. The moment was broken by Shego's annoyed voice.
"Sweet and all, but what's the word I'm looking for…? Oh yeah: 'nauseating'. Can we get a move-on here? Anything's better than watching the Teen Hugging Hour."
The immortal teens separated, fingers lingering in a last gentle connection, until Ron stepped back next to Yuma, and Kim returned to Malcolm's side. Shego and her guide Morla immediately strode off between buildings, and Malcolm slowly led Kim in another direction. Yuma took Ron's hand and pulled him in yet another path. Tana and the rest of the onlookers discreetly melted into the background, and Ron wasn't sure that was just a metaphor.
Steadier now, Ron let Yuma lead him. She kept a little ahead, looking back now and again. "How about that Tana? She sure is full of herself, huh?" Yuma's voice floated back to Ron. "I mean, do you think she could've been a little, I dunno, less like a freaky robot and more like a person?"
"Well, she did say she was some kind of glompulated personality disorder or something…" Ron didn't feel like recalling her exact words. Close enough.
"Just because she's less a person and more of a committee is no excuse to be weird." Yuma fell silent.
He thought how best to approach questioning his adopted daughter… tact was definitely called for, he decided. A subtle, masterful set of probing questions, designed to throw her off guard so he could discover any hidden agendas. Yes, this called for a deft hand.
"So just where the heck did you all go? One day there, the next… poof. I've gotta know."
Well, so much for subtlety, he thought.
Yuma didn't break her stride. "Did you ever used to look up at the sky and wonder what was out there?"
"You know I did. You also know I explored it for a long time."
"I know you know I know." She giggled again, a little-girl sound that tugged at Ron's heart. He'd loved her giggle. "There were things we saw, and we wanted to know more about them. So we went and found them." She didn't seem to want to discuss the details.
Ron sighed. "But everyone at once? I mean, not even a 'Goodbye, we're evolving into higher beings' card or anything? Voicemail? Something."
Yuma looked at Ron with a sad expression. "We know it hurt you. But we couldn't share with you. You just weren't ready." She looked down. "You might never be ready."
Several paces went by before Yuma looked back up. "Remember our apartment? We had a whole city block to ourselves in Alexandria. The towers seemed to go up forever. I used to dream of exploring them, and finding ancient treasures or lost tribes of apartment dwellers. And the time we went exploring and found a room full of stuffed toys? You took a picture of me surrounded by plush, remember?"
Ron took a minute to answer. "I seem to remember something like that," he replied dryly. The photo was in a box, in the bunker outside Middleton. The top of the box still had tear streaks from when Ron closed it for the last time.
Yuma skipped ahead a bit, waited for Ron, then skipped again. "I always wondered if you remembered me. You'd lived for so long, and I was only in your life for a few decades. When you didn't recognize me earlier, I thought you'd forgotten for good."
Ron laughed, and was pleased that it wasn't bitter. "Forget? You? I'd never been so frustrated or so busy in my life after they decanted you and put you in my arms." He now vividly recalled the day Yuma came into his life, in the waning days of the last generation of mortal humans. With the population declining and their interest in day-to-day life slipping away, Ron and the other immortals went to extremes to prolong their mortal kin. But even as the immortals moved into the emptying high-tech cities and adopted test-tube babies, the rest of the race was intent on moving along to their next step.
"Kim said I was crazy, but she made a good Mom, didn't she?"
"It's hard for me to judge, but I think so."
"She spoiled you rotten."
"And you didn't? Face it, Pops, what Yuma wanted, Yuma gotted." She grinned impishly back at Ron, impatiently waiting for him to catch up.
Even with the almost certain knowledge that they would soon be alone again, it had been one of the best time of Ron's long, long life. He and Kim had grown so close over so many centuries and millennia that they sometimes thought like one person. But there was no growth, no change. They were, at heart, high schoolers.
Until Yuma came along and the two immortal teens had the chance to play Family one last time. It had been a really good fifty years, Ron thought. Maybe that was why it hurt so badly after… well, after. We had a taste of a normal life, Ron thought. Just a taste.
Emerging from his reverie, Ron jogged a little to catch up. "So what about your friends? What were their names again… Cheyenne, Madison, Kissimmee? Did they all, um, depart on the last train from mortalsville?"
Yuma slowed. "Everyone except Wyoming. She never showed up." There was a sad moment as Ron remembered the freckly young redhead. With so few children in those last days, each friend was precious.
"Clifton made it, though." Ron heard something he didn't expect in her voice. Even though she'd lived with Ron and Kim for fifty years, she had still been a child, adulthood delayed through genetic manipulation. But maybe she hadn't been such a child after all…
"Did he make a move on you? Are you OK? If he did anything, I hope you used those kung fu moves Kim taught you. I always knew there was something wrong about that kid…"
Yuma laughed. "You are SUCH a parent. No, he was a perfect gentleman, unfortunately…"
"What does THAT mean?"
"… and besides, that all happened fifty thousand years ago, remember? You sound like it was just yesterday."
Ron took a deep breath. She was right. But it was amazing how fast that parenting instinct came back! Barkin with his dozens of sacks of flour (and sugar) would've been proud.
Not liking the direction this conversation was taking, Ron cast around desperately for another topic. "So what was the part what's-her-face was talking about back there, anyway? Something about explaining why we're here."
"Fine, Dad, we'll talk about business." She slowed, made a slight detour around a building. They were emerging from the cluster of odd-shaped buildings and Ron could see a pillar of light in the distance, spearing into the not-sky. It was apparently this Chorlix thing where they were supposed to meet the others.
"Three sets of mortal humans reached a Singularity, and found new realms and new challenges. You helped three sets of humans ascend to a different plane of existence. We took separate paths, but eventually all ended up at the same place. It's not exactly crowded, and we're don't fight about stuff, not really… but it's still like sharing a house with strangers. It might be a big house, but there are still territorial disputes, who put the empty milk back in the fridge, whose turn is it to clean out the cat box, who left their dirty underwear is on the stairs, stuff like that – only different.
"When we got here, some of the older ones had already gotten bored and were looking for What's Next. We didn't care, we'd just gotten here and were having a blast with our new existence. That's kind of a simplistic cause-and-effect explanation, since the concept of linear time doesn't translate exactly to the realms we found ourselves in…" Yuma paused when she noticed Ron's eyes begin to glaze. "Sorry, I'll try to keep this in Dad-speak."
"Huh? Sorry. Yes, please and thank you."
Yuma continued, "So they were looking for the Next Big Thing, and eventually found it. There are apparently other means of existence and thought that are as far beyond us as we are beyond you. No disrespect intended," she added hurriedly, but Ron didn't take offence.
"What, you mean like people made of energy?" Ron thought he had this one down.
But Yuma shook her head. "Things and places that make concepts like 'energy' and 'matter' seem old-fashioned. I wish I could explain it, but I just can't. Take my word – these people are Advanced, with a capital Ad. And they talked with us." She sounded a little awed. Ron shivered; he figured that anything she found awe-inspiring would probably melt him into a greasy puddle.
"So what part do I play in this grand drama?" Ron was proud of the phrasing, but Yuma didn't seem to notice.
Yuma stopped and looked at him. "You get to talk with them and argue our case."
"Dad? Ron? Wake up. I hope you didn't hit your head too hard when you fainted…" Yuma was shaking Ron.
Prying his eyes open, Ron struggled upright. "I didn't faint, I was taking a power nap!" The overload was fading quickly, wetware helping regulate adrenalin production and slowing his heart rate.
"Riiiight. Sorry, didn't think it would hit you that hard."
They resumed walking. The Chorlix remained an indeterminate distance away, no matter how long they strolled toward it. Ron didn't mind, it gave him more time to absorb Yuma's story.
"So what exactly do you expect me to say?"
Yuma grinned at him, a pure ten-thousand-watt smile that she only used when she really wanted something. "Just tell them we want to be friends. That's all."
Ron suspected it would be a little more complicated than that, but held his tongue.
"The people from the Chorlix need us to have one solution. Some of us don't want to go anywhere at all. Some of us want everyone to migrate to this new thing – apparently there are benefits in numbers. But the group I represent would simply like us to stay where we are, until we're all ready to make the next jump."
"But why do I have to tell them? You've got a tongue, and I know for darn sure you're not shy about flapping it and making sounds come out of your face. What good can some ancient, not-even-advanced immortal teenager do?"
"When I said we all have to agree, I mean it – all humans, including immortals. They won't accept an argument without representatives of all groups present."
Ron thought for a while. It sounded simple enough. "Why would I be an advocate for you, though? Maybe I feel like taking the leap and become Mr. Energy." Not that he did, but just for argument's sake…
Yuma stopped and looked directly into Ron's eyes. "I don't think you do, but that's not the point. I think you wouldn't force anyone else to do something they didn't want to do." They started walking again.
She had him there, all right.
"You got me there. But one more dumb question. Why me and Kim?"
Yuma shrugged. "We thought we could trust you. We didn't know who you'd bring as a third, and I'm a little worried about Lean Mean Green. She's unpredictable. But free will is a vital part of this process. That's why we had to wait for you to remember. So here we are."
Ron looked up and noticed they had almost reached their destination. On closer inspection, it wasn't a single pillar of light, but what looked like luminous ropes wound in and around each other to form an organic-looking column that stretched up into the weird non-sky. Light bursts pulsed up and down through each strand at different rates, and the configuration seemed to shift when Ron wasn't looking directly at it. He couldn't tell for sure, it looked like the strands were close but none touched.
"The others are almost here," Yuma pointed to Kim walking with Malcolm, and Shego stalking along the ground with Morla.
Ron gestured to the Chorlix. "So, is there like a phone booth in there or something? How do I talk with these people?"
Yuma smiled. "Each strand is made up of a separate reality. A consciousness resides in each strand. Each consciousness is made up of trillions of living beings, but all the strands speak with one voice. We don't know how it works, but it does… and it's really cool!"
Ron's eyes widened. "I can see why you'd want to just be friends with something like that before jumping in bed with it. Dinner at a nice restaurant, maybe go to the movies a few times first. Yeah, a relationship takes time. I'm with ya on that one. Now what?"
"We wait for the others, then you will present our viewpoint."
"No pressure. Great." Ron watched the others approach with growing apprehension.
Shego worked hard at not huffing and puffing next to Morla, who moved with mechanical precision. Shego said, "So that's the deal, then. I'll 'persuade' these superbeing things to leave you alone, and I get…"
Morla interrupted. "You'll get exactly what you asked for. But I must tell you, it seems a waste for one of your talents."
"You just let me deal with that. It's been a good long time since those Middleton morons have had a taste of a real supervillain."
"But I see no reason for you to subjugate yourself to another. You are more than capable of ruling these remnants of humanity by yourself."
Shego barked a laugh. "Ever hear the word 'puppet'? The henchwoman always has an escape route and Swiss bank account set up, and always gets away while the rabble takes down the bad guy. Simple as that."
Morla looked over at Shego. "You are lying."
Shego glared back. If she looked deep, she had to admit the other woman was right. And it was really, really galling to know that Morla knew it. "My reasons don't matter. That's my price, take it or leave it."
"Agreed. And you'll accept our assistance in your persuasive attempts."
Shego nodded. She didn't like relying on somebody else, but she saw the sense of it.
"We've arrived." Shego saw with some surprise that they were nearing Stoppable and his kid. It seemed like they'd been trudging over the featureless plain forever, and then boom! There it was, the Chorlix right in front of them. This place was freaky, and Shego was looking forward to putting it behind her.
"I see your point," Kim conceded to Malcolm. His arguments were very persuasive, but there was just something about them that seemed incomplete to Kim. Individually, all his conclusions were sound, but they didn't seem to add up to a whole. "I'm just having a hard time putting it all together."
"Understandable," he said. "Some of the logic structures were developed after we departed your plane of existence, so they wouldn't be familiar to you. But surely you can see they are sound."
Kim hesitated. "Sure, but just incomplete." Another thought struck her. "What exactly happens if your argument wins?"
"We will all become part of the Chorlix. You'll see some of its components when we get nearer." He looked over at Kim. "I trust that even if I haven't convinced you, you will plead our case to the best of your ability, yes? You will help us?"
His plea for her help hit Kim in a place she knew she couldn't refuse. "Sure, of course I'll help. I just wish I could put it all together. It'd be more effective."
Malcolm smiled. "I'm sure you will be fine. You have served humanity selflessly for so very long, I have no doubt you will shine today. We could ask for no better advocate."
His smooth words calmed Kim. She'd do her best to relate his arguments. If only they wouldn't keep slipping away from her when she poked at them…
Like a ghost, Tana stepped out from behind the glowing Chorlix column, followed by the others Ron and Kim had seen earlier. The Chorlix was only a couple of meters wide, but Ron thought it seemed to have a whole lot of hiding space behind it.
"Are you prepared?" she asked the three groups.
Shego spoke first. "Let's get this over with." Ron and Kim both nodded.
Tana turned to the Chorlix, and said in a self-important voice, "We are gathered as you've requested. Are you ready to hear our petitions?"
Nothing visible changed in the various curving strands of light, but Ron felt a growing intensity of… something. Like he was under a massive magnifying glass. The thought made him uncomfortable; he had a momentary vision of being fried by some kind of magnified power if his argument didn't come out just right. But he glanced at Yuma and decided she wouldn't put him in that position – and if she did, she'd darn well tell him the consequences first. He relaxed just a little.
"Hello. Thank you for talking with us. We are the Chorlix." Ron wasn't sure if he heard the words through his ears or if it went directly into his brain. The voice was deep and easygoing, and as much the opposite of Tana's portentous tones as it could be. It didn't sound like a super-duper consciousness built from trillions of beings, it sounded like a favourite uncle. He relaxed a little more.
"We've been talking with you for a while now, and we would welcome you among us. Since you can't come to consensus yourselves about your level of involvement, we've agreed to hear your viewpoints and make the decision. It's rare that we agree to this… but we see how your presence could enrich us all. So we are willing to take the risk. And there is a risk, to you and to us.
"Who would like to start?"
Kim raised her hand. "I'll go first, if that's OK," she said, glancing at Ron, who nodded minutely. Shego shrugged, as if who went first was nothing to her.
Facing the Chorlix, Kim began by restating Malcolm's arguments. She stuck to his script, unable to bring anything new to his words. Essentially, she argued for full integration of all humans, even those who didn't want it. The metaphors she used – children being taught by parents – seemed to have underlying assumptions she wasn't sure she bought. For starters, she wasn't sure she believed the Chorlix were so far advanced that they knew better than humans. But she dutifully recounted Malcolm's arguments.
After she finished, the Chorlix seemed to absorb the argument. Then, it spoke. "Thank you, Kim. The arguments are persuasive. But do you believe them yourself?"
Kim was afraid they'd ask her that. Even though she'd promised Malcolm she'd give it her best shot, she wouldn't lie for him. "Not entirely," she admitted. "I would've liked some time to think about it, though."
"Would you mind if we got a little more direct information from you? We respect your boundaries, but would like to know more from you. You have interfaces which would make this a minor effort."
Invade her wetware? Kim hesitated. But standing here, on a seemingly endless plain in front of wavering tentacles of light, she couldn't find a reason to say "no" that didn't sound petty. Finally, she nodded. A slight tingle spread from her palms, up her arms, and down her spine, but it wasn't unpleasant and it only lasted a few seconds. She knew when the Chorlix had departed her, and took quick stock; nothing seemed different or wrong. She sighed, relieved.
"We appreciate your willingness to share, Kim," the Chorlix said gently. "Next?"
Ron stuck up his hand. If Kim could do it, so could he. Yuma gave him a little pat of encouragement on his shoulder, and he stepped up a pace.
"Hello, Ron. OK, let's hear it." Ron could've sworn there was a smile in the voice.
He cleared his throat, shuffled his feet, stuck his hands in his pockets. Then he looked up and said, "We want to be friends."
The Chorlix voice didn't hesitate. "Good enough. Mind if we take a peek like we did with Kim?" The smile was still in the voice, but Ron's shoulders hunched anyway. That was it?
"Sure, go for it. Just don't leave muddy footprints in the hall, and close the door on the way out." His bravado was more for himself than anyone else.
The tingle lasted a few seconds, then was gone. A breath whooshed out of Ron, and he stepped back to Yuma, where he stage-whispered, "See, I told you it wouldn't be so bad!" Yuma smiled at him, apparently pleased with his performance.
Finally it was Shego's turn. The pale villainess turned to her companion, who placed a hand on Shego's forearm for a moment. Ron couldn't be sure, but thought he saw a spark of energy slither from Morla to Shego. He shivered. That couldn't be good.
Shego faced the Chorlix, and said in a loud voice. "Just leave us alone." Before the voice could respond, she brought up her hands, now glowing an intense green, and flung a pair of energy bursts at the Chorlix.