Near Light

by novalounge

This is a sequel to 'One Way Trip', so read that first. If 'Life is Strange' was their origin story, 'One Way Trip' was a re-awakening. An introduction to new friends, hidden enemies. Warnings for the future. Early power-ups for what lies ahead. 'Near Light' is the continued adventure of Max & Chloe, picking up where 'One Way Trip' left off. Pricefield, etc.

16. Interference Patterns

Chloe laughed, squeezing Max. "Wait…wait - say it again? Pleeeeease?"

It stopped being funny a couple of weeks back, but recently cycled back around to being funny again. The cycle of stupid inside jokes rolled ever onward.

Max wiggled part-way out of Chloe's body-hug, gave a lazy, resigned sigh. "Fine. I told him, and I quote, 'I can make galaxy-class black holes with my fucking mind…'"

Chloe rolled away, snorked, near tears. "God, I fucking love you, Max! Ahahahaha! Did he shit himself? Could you tell? Please….ahaha…quick! Jump back for a…a…turtle check?"

Max winced, swiped at Chloe. "Ew! No. Stahp."

"Poopcheck…heheh…on aisle number-two? Bahahahah! Get it? Number two? And like, ohmygod does it happen to all of them as they all watch the recordings? …oh man…shit! Heh - ack!" Chloe caught herself as she slipped off the other side of the bed, pulling the sheet from Max as she recovered.

Emo looked up from his drawer, the slits of his eyes shining in the dark.

"Stop, Chloe," giggled Max. "You're horrible! I was on a roll, and it just…kinda came out."

Chloe, breath faltering, "…ahaha…just came out? Hahahahahaha! It writes itself! Oh, come on. Poop jokes, dude…heh…shit never…ahahaha…gets old…snork! Get it? Shit? And…and…a big black hole? …cause….Hahaha!" Chloe rolled into Max as her fit descended.

Max rolled her eyes at the ceiling, hand to her forehead. Pulled at the sheet. Chuckled. "You're seriously like…the worlds smartest idiot or its dumbest genius…so stupid."

Once Chloe calmed, Max nestled sideways into her, resting her chin on Chloe's collar-bone. Whispered soft kisses into her throat. "Mine tho."

"…yours. Sorry. You're totally stuck with me now. Mwahahaha."

"You know, you're tremendously silly. It's like three in the morning. Fuck. Why are we awake again?"

"I don't know, dude. I was in sleep mode. You're the one who's all fidgety." Chloe nuzzled.

"Maaah. Sorry. I just - it feels like something should have happened by now, you know?" Max curled more tightly into Chloe. "Meet the big bad, exchange pleasantries, trade ultimatums, and then…crickets."

"You didn't expect them to fall apart inside a couple weeks."

"No, but—"

"…but…it will take them some time. A few families have reached out already. Tentatively. I know you're keeping track."

"Yeah. Yeah, I know, I know. I guess. I don't know, Chlo. This is gonna sound super stupid, but after all the destruction and bullshit and absolute horror-show world-fuckery they caused in the last timeline…I guess - I don't know. I thought they'd be bigger, somehow? You know? Whatever that means?"

"Banality of evil cliches? They're still giant dicks. And here's hoping you feel the same after we figure out the what-the-fuck of the real capital-B-style Big Bad…"

"Yeah…me too. Lose more sleep over that later. Should we start calling our local Earthican guys the little big bad maybe? So we don't confuse ourselves?" Max smiled in the dark.

Part of Chloe wandered the city. She thought that might have started while she was sleeping. Wasn't sure. She watched the early morning lights from somewhere high above… "Maybe. More sleep might help too." She remembered the calendar. "You nervous about our uber-fancy Valentine's Karaoke date tonight?"

"Yes. I'm sure that's what's keeping me awake. And all, what, ten of us?" Max reached, pulled Chloe's chin gently toward her.

Chloe moved with her, bringing her lips to rest on Max's forehead. "Nine. Mmmwah."

Max returned another soft kiss to Chloe's throat. "Okay. You're right tho. Gonna be a long day. Least we get to chill away from everything for a few days after. And now - it is the time for the sleepy time-time… fall with me?"

Chloe snuggled, closed her eyes. Whispered, "that train's long gone…"

---

James Andersen leaned in against the cold, wet face of the granite mountain. Roughness grabbed at the sleeve of his thick parka as he dragged forward. The eroded path ahead, icy, narrowed to the width of his booted foot.

One in front of the other, heel, toe. Crunch.

He pressed his body into the rock face, careful not to push too hard, propel himself out. Hoped the minimal outcrop would bear his weight.

Fast mid-step to the other side.

Below the gap, a skittering vertical drop of a few thousand feet. No chance he'd catch himself on the switchbacks far below. One bounce, and he'd fall away, lost to the dark. His life was in his own hands now, the dangers of his path providing the final elements of chance.

The cold worked at his exposed cheeks, crystallized his breath into tiny icicles. Their growing bulk pulled at his scraggly new mustache and beard.

He was a free man. A freed man - in more ways than one. From her. From Them. Perhaps even from some prior version of himself.

His weeks away gave him…an insight. Two. It worked at him, after. A result of something all too rare in his prior day-to-day - space. Attention surplus. He existed under duress, them pulling at his mind as they did. Fought to remain empty, but even so, he found something back there in that well. That hollow of resonant isolation. His sustained, peaceful blanking left him with a hint of something he'd last glimpsed long ago.

Something he very much wanted to find for himself.

---

Ariel missed the moment of transition. The reality-crossfade when their after-hours HQ lobby disappeared, and a bright, mid-day conference room in their Tokyo office took its place. Aside from the sudden shock of daytime, it was disconcertingly continuous. Like a cutscene. Dammit. Blinked.

She didn't have a feel for how this was all going to go. Out of her element. And yet…not, in a weird sort of way. An acute case of extra-wheel-syndrome, for sure. But she helped Sophie find the venue, and…they did invite her.

And she couldn't think up a single passable reason that would allow her to bow out, to retreat home to the comfort of her Netflix queue.

Somewhere behind, Chloe, in her best pilot-voice, "…and we'd like to thank you all for flying AirMax. Please do remember to keep your hands and feet inside the universe at all times as you de-board the boardroom. We know you have a choice of multidimensional transportation options, so we thank you all again for choosing - Max…"

It was challenging to stay serious-minded when the bosses were so playful. Not that I have any reason to be serious I guess…aside from literally everything, everywhere, at all times.

Ariel's attention defocused through the boardroom windows to the far horizon. The city. The winter cloud cover. Its bright rain.

She was here. Close, maybe.

…nearly ten years. Still think about you, Toshi.

It was all just…weird, was all.

Hector sidled up as they passed through the double-doors into the open floor. "You been here before?"

Startled, she turned. "What? Me? Uh. Tokyo? Or the office?"

"Either?" He pulled his shoulder-length hair back from his face with both hands, casually securing the excess in a top-knot with a hair tie. Errant strands fell forward again.

"Um, 'yes' to Tokyo. 'No' to the office. You?"

Head down, Hector smiled, glanced past the workers looking up in surprise from their workstations, out through the glass wall to that same vast, elaborate city beyond. "I've been to this office. But never Tokyo."

Her brows knit together. "Wait. You've never once gone outside? That's…no. We're fixing that today." This was still technically her hometown. Sort of. She held back, considered. Committed. Screw it. You're here. She put on a mental hat, smiled, relaxed, turned around and asked the group at large, "Okay - to ensure maximum fun, who here reads or speaks any Japanese?" She raised her hand, a new bounce in her backward step. "Anyone?"

Their group walked a path through a few of the local support staff working the Sunday shift.

Max and Chloe were the only ones to join Ari with raised hands.

Sophie shrugged. Finally rolled her eyes, gave a short 'of course' sort of hand wave.

Ari grinned. "Cheater."

Sophie, privately, In my experience, language is often a hindrance to communication. Especially between those who assume they share one. But yes, I suppose I have nearly infinite windows to all the pan-lexical nuance you could want…at your service, as needed. ;-)

John, hands down, "I have a SoCal restaurant command, but that's far as it goes for me. At least without tech. Soba? Maguro? Asahi? Sake? Good enough?" He looked to Tracey with raised eyebrows.

Tracey shook her head. "I can butcher Mandarin acceptably, which I imagine isn't a slight bit of help here. If we need Spanish or Arabic, though, I'm your lass."

"I can help on the first one." Hector raised his hand.

Ty remained silent, acknowledged a few fellow employees to one side with a nodding half-smile and a raised hand.

Hector looked back at him with a grin, "Forget your words, big guy?"

Ty shrugged, kept quiet pace.

"Mr. Williams speaks English quite…Americanly," offered Parker, slowly, as though uncertain where he was going with it.

"That unfortunate trait extends to his Czech, Russian and Arabic too…" John quipped with a smile.

Ty shrugged, "That's why Strauss always had checkpoints, and I handled bartenders."

Max joined in, "I'm not sure what kinda globe-hopping night you guys were thinking… Hey, how are you?"

Max was distracted at the end by a friendly wave from one of the receptionists, who offered each of them a small, wrapped box of Giri-choco.

Right. Ari gave reception a heads-up that they'd be passing through, but didn't realize it was Valentine's day. She thanked them, carefully opened her box, popped the chocolate in her mouth. Turned attention back to the group. "Okay, well, looks like it's up to us girls to keep everyone on point, then." And with that, it was decided. Today was like any other op. Best way for her to fit in was to take small charge, or, in this case, play guide. Try to be 'festive' on this holiest of made-up greeting card holidays…

She stopped them in the elevator lobby. Turned again. "Wait… how many of you have been here before?" She cast a quick eye-roll-glance at Hector. "And you know, have gone all the way outside?"

More hands. Max, Chloe, John, Ty. She counted. Ari hadn't been to this office before, but she knew the building. Mori Tower. Roppongi Hills. Okay - up top first. Ariel view. Heh. Please don't say that out loud. Finger pointed toward the ceiling, eyebrows arched, she addressed Max. "With permission?"

Max shrugged, made a face that kindly hinted it was ridiculous to pretend she needed anything of the sort.

"Alright, guys. We'll start on the roof. Ten floors up, I think? Wait…is this 44 or 45?" MCCP had a full two floors in the building, but she didn't know which was their landing zone. She craned, found the elevator display. "45. Nine floors it is. Beautiful view of the whole city from the 54th-floor roof deck. Tokyo Tower, parks, skylines in every direction. It's stunning up there. I think you'll like it."

Chloe threw her hands up, teased, "Guess I'm on raindrop-deflection duty…since none of you scrubs thought to bring a goddamned umbrella…"

"Those things'll poke your eye out," suggested Ty. Common hazard for the tall.

As they piled into the elevator, Parker asked, "Will there be more food? At any point? What? The sweets are delightful, but I'm half-starved."

---

Chloe slipped her free hand into Max's as their entourage piled out of the warm pastry shop onto the chilly street.

Snacking, the group flowed along the sidewalk in the heavy rain. Cars on the streets moved slowly, while pedestrians pushed through at the breadth of their umbrellas to the accompanying white noise of the falling rain.

Chloe strode confidently in a pair of sparkly-silver 10-hole Doc Martens, tight black faux-leather pants, a vintage black and red TSOL t-shirt, and a semi-transparent graphene trench-coat that billowed behind like dark smoke as they walked.

Max went with dark floral high-top Vans, black tights, a cute miniskirt, and a bright blue sleeveless t-shirt, darkened by an unblinking army of susuwatari. Around her neck, a simple matching blue choker. Her hair was pulled up on each side, twisted into bear ears. She wrapped herself and the others in an invisible river of excited atoms for warmth.

Chloe checked thermal, laughed to herself. All she needs are glow-bracelets and a lollipop.

And Ariel was right, earlier. About the view from the rooftop of the office. No surprise. This city would always be unique and beautiful to Chloe. A jagged, intermingled skyline of deceptively tall buildings set to all angles, infiltrated by flowing, elegant green spaces, then copy-pasted infinitely out to all horizons. Forty-three million people in a metro area more extensive than the LA basin, but at nearly four times the density.

Chloe had a much better view than the others, but it wasn't one she could share. Even so, it wasn't nearly as complete as she'd like. She didn't expect trouble, but still had to field ten times the number of mobile drones to give her the same kind of overview she could usually get in a small, topologically simple region like Las Vegas.

Tokyo was massive, sprawling, with far too many nooks and crannies and outright blind-spots for that kind of comprehensive picture. It was a wave-of-sight capture problem, common to dense, vertical, urban canyon-scapes. Like every hub where they had a presence, they littered the city with their meshed light-field sensors. But most were concentrated within a few miles of their office.

And it wasn't nearly good enough for comfort.

As a test, Chloe had quietly purchased almost fifty specialty printing companies around Japan before the holidays. The common link was their long-term contracts to provide local governments with prefecture seals for vehicle license plates - small printed stickers that covered license plate mounting bolts for the life of each vehicle. Long game. The new substrate wouldn't roll into production for another month. But at nearly five million new cars registered in Japan each year, distribution would scale quickly. And scatter the invisible, advanced mobile sensors across the country, hopefully filling in some of the gaps.

If the results were what she hoped, they'd scale similar approaches in other countries where it made sense, as well as horizontally to other everyday objects, coffee cups, fabrics, whatever. Infiltrate the supply chains. Anything could pull innocuous double-duty, contributing to the big picture, ambiently powered by light, pressure, small differences in temperature, body heat or kinetics, movement through wireless fields, or…anything.

Tokyo was the most extreme case she had to contend with. If they could solve it here, it would work anywhere they needed a presence.

Growing net of sensors above. Smart dust in the wind. Expanding core interconnections below. All part of that purposefully evolving system of global awareness.

Meanwhile, a dozen hummingbirds patrolled in a five-mile dome, with thousands of small flying insect-bots tracking with them, keeping pace a few hundred yards on all sides of their group. In windows, down alleys, up rooftops, into sewer grates. Leaping ahead, flying behind. Walking above. Chloe layered in the flat optical images of public and private camera systems where she could. Along with radio penetrations, reflections. Every little bit helped.

While blind to much of the city, she saw and heard nearly everything in the quarter-mile bubble around them. Filtered most of it out. Her attention lingered on the interesting bits, in her own internal time. Max, holding her hand, seen from every possible angle. Every raindrop that threatened their group. Noted the still-wet alien-head graffiti on the dented, dirty trash bin outside the shop down the alley. Along with the still-visible heat of the tagger's footsteps fading down the street. She and Max were mid-arm-swing, nearly motionless as she reversed the data, replayed the hooded figure, the practiced flow of the spray nozzle. Noted the number he used as a signature, curious, she looked up a few hundred sites, posts and articles covering the vibrant Tokyo graffiti scene. Remembered that stealthy rush from younger days. Good times. Carry on, artful taggers.

Back to real-time. Scanned. John and Trace walked on their own ahead, sharing a lemon tart and whispers. Chloe touched every car on the elevated freeway above the street, slowed perception again as one passed. Enjoyed the beauty of the tail lights through the rooster-tails rising behind each wheel. Fluid suspended vertically, surface tension rendering sheets, droplets, like galactic walls, forever falling splashing descending to join dark water flowing underground toward the deepest sea.

The back and forth banter between friends, mostly unaware of her side-processed vigilance. Civilian conversations all around, radio broadcasts, ridiculous density of mobile phones, echoes, wifi. Everything unfolding to her perception at high detail and in super slow motion. A digital analog to Sophie's meat-based connections to the world. Chloe didn't doubt that Soph was passively watching and listening through her own ad-hoc network of other people for signs of trouble too.

On the one hand, it makes perfect sense for us to take these precautions, to strive for full situational awareness. On the other…

Max gave her a playful squeeze and pull. A cream-puff infused kiss on her cheek. "Them's the rules, right, Chlo?" Like magic and bubbles.

…their vigilance was entirely redundant. Unnecessary. When Max could unwrite anything anyone could do to them, why bother with any of it? That approach, dependence, left everything on Max's shoulders. She carried enough. Wait…that she asked me something. Shit. Chloe ran an imperceptible high-speed playback of the last minute of conversation around her. Most recent question was about sticking to the outcome of the bet from a few weeks ago. Got it. Chloe descended to a more human clock speed. Transition felt more and more like stepping from a screaming jet into frozen molasses. She gave a head nod to Hector without missing a conversational beat. "You're not skatin' outta this one, loser! Ponies. That was the deal. You bet against the superstar - now you can suuuck iiiiit." She laughed with a few others. "Prepare - for your Song of Shaaaaaame!"

Ahead, Hector turned in a full circle, put up his hands. "I accepted the consequences, and my defeat, gracefully. You could try to do the same with your victory." Head tilted, smiling, he turned back.

John, from up front, "Ouch. Shots fired…"

"Yes, well, you won't be alone up there," said Ari. "Ignorance of the extent of Chloe's righteous in-the-moment badassery doesn't protect me from sharing those consequences."

Hector threw a smile over his shoulder at her. "Don't worry, Ar. I have a plan. We're gonna bring the house down."

"Oh, this oughtta be good," dropped Ty, under his breath.

"Where in the Seven Hells are we going again?" asked Parker. "I appreciate the second sugar-stop, but are we to remain but dodgy foreign wanderers? Should I consult a map for guidance? Search out a singing booth, or, what are we doing now?"

Chloe poked at him. "We're re-enacting the primary means of motation comfortably used for many thousands of years by our most ancient of respected ancestors, the Meanderthals."

Max groaned, fake-pulled-away.

Sophie giggled quietly to herself, "I was sure we were sauntering?"

Tracey turned, asked Soph, "Where does the 'mosey' fit into any of this?"

Sophie shrugged, smiling.

Chloe continued, "What are you, afraid of a little outdoor walk Parker?"

"Not as such. I'll admit I'm growing somewhat weary of colliding with oncoming residents inexplicably decked out in house medical garb, most of who seem as though they at least have some rudimentary command over where they're going. Can't say the same for us."

Chloe took pity, threw a holo out front, composite 3-d wireframe view of their surroundings, with a dot for them, one for their destination, and a dog-leg blinky-path linking them. "Roppongi Hills. Shibuya. Questions?"

"Scale?"

"Another mile."

"Another? Are we not even half? It's raining!"

Chloe rolled her eyes. "Dude - oh my god, you're so full of freakin' whinge today. Has a single drop hit you?"

"Well, no, which is…odd, now that you mention…wait…is that you?!" He held out his hand. Rain fell hard around them, but within a few feet of their circle, empty air. "How are you doing that, exactly?"

Chloe blew on her nails, their colors changing in waves. "Pure talent." That got another chuckle from the group. "It's only another mile. You can do it. I know we're outside, in the real world and shit, but…I, for one, choose to believe in you." Chloe smiled, looked away, shaking her head. She secretly liked Parker, but he made himself such an easy target.

Parker squinted. "You know, if you weren't my superior in…well..literally every way imaginable I suppose, I'd tell you to get stuffed. But…that first part." He gave a small chuckle at his attempt.

Chloe gave a toss. "Yeah, yeah. Laugh it up, fuzzball."

Incredulous, all he could manage was a weak, "Really?"

Max chimed in, "Does that make me Leia in this specific walking configuration?"

Chloe whispered, aside, "Probably not?"

Max made a face. "Poop."

Sophie glanced back over her shoulder eyebrows raised. "Language."

Parker jumped in, pointed excitedly. "Wait, I get that reference!"

Chloe heard their collective laughter through cameras a quarter-mile away.

---

James clambered on.

The path returned to shoulder-width, followed the curve of the rock face. The grade increased. His boot found the edge of a shallow stair-cut, tripping his body forward. He caught himself with outstretched arms and the sound of a cold, wet 'squish'. Held there as the wind pushed at him. His heart slowed once again. Bits of ice and snow raced across the beam of his headlamp, gave the illusion of turning, of violent movement in his stillness. Disorienting.

He was aware of his body. Trusted his inner ear. The unmoving rock in his hands, where he caught himself mid-fall. Gravity. Down. That was solid - the stone of the world. The sideways pull of snow, the pale motions of light and flurries - those were the illusions, ghosts that would take him off course to join them, if he followed.

Closed his eyes. The world…back in balance.

He'd always found those first few minutes of morning meditation helpful. A structured transition from sleep to wakefulness. Since school. A common, routine beginning to the variable chaos of each new day. But in diving so deeply to evade her telepaths, that artifact of his history melded with Their training to produce in him echoes of something entirely unexpected. Old memories.

Memories which led him here.

His thoughts drifted like the flurries. Landed near a more recent version of himself.

It was an exciting challenge. The Device. Those last eighteen months of effort. To see beyond the mistakes of his father and the limitations of his time. To make it work. To make his mark. Maybe show Them why they ought to respect him. No one lesser had an opinion he could find meaning in.

He picked himself up. Continued on, as much by feel as by light.

Now that he was free, out on his own, could think openly without eavesdroppers, he discovered he felt differently about a great many things. Different than he had before his captivity, at any rate. Far too much energy wasted chasing unimportant pursuits. And a few harmful ones. Chasing, why? Why did any of it matter to him? What was the purpose, or the result, of anyone's approval? Conflating cause and effect? Something else? Not for the reflections in his reputation or his father or the press or partners or any of the rest. But why did any of it matter to him? Personally?

It didn't. That was his lesson. And perhaps, her gift. A more subtle comment on the nature of his release.

Back to himself, there was only the trail. The tearing chill wind. The ice. And his mind, alone in the night. He relished the raw simplicity of the moment. Couldn't recall feeling anything quite so real or meaningful as this in any of what drove him before.

Not after his time there, in that - place.

Sustained low-gravity…once gone, once he processed, it was evident that it couldn't have been Earth. That alone changed everything. Set a different perspective on where MCCP was in relation. And opened far more questions than he could expect answers for. An extreme sort of intelligence failure, but it wasn't his fault that night went the way it had.

Winning was never an outcome that was open to him.

They were…no…he…was objectively outmatched.

He could accept that. Honor her win.

She proved she was worthy.

---

Max offered Chloe the last bite of her cream puff. Popped it in her mouth when Chloe declined with a shake of her head. So good. So flakey! OMG. Melting.

Tracey and Ty were talking about something as they all walked, Hector and John clowned around, but Max wasn't paying super-close attention. The light softened everything under the cloud cover and rain. A little like that greenish cast she used to like in Seattle on rainy winter days. Wished she'd brought a real camera. Settled for her phone. She let go of Chloe's hand as Ariel pointed them off the main street and into a long, narrow alleyway.

Noodle shops with ramshackle signs, dry cleaners, and other stores nested at street level between the tall buildings. Harsh white fluorescents. White cubes, window coolers, sprouted like mushrooms from every floor. No two buildings were alike, with color and tile and their different shapes reaching high up into the clouds. A Range Rover parked randomly in a corner space, a painted remnant notch where two small alleys intersected. Two wet, silver scooters leaned against a wall in a gap behind it.

Max broke away from the group. Wanted a shot of the scooter friends huddled together in the rain. Each had giant sticky-eyes looking out at her from the front fairings. She framed, took a few snaps, tight, backed up, rotated her phone, took another few with the giant purple graffiti bubble-monster in the background.

Chloe paused, waited, called out, "That one was done by a visiting crew up from South Korea six months ago."

Max snapped another shot, rejoined the group. Flipped through, saved to her camera roll. "Cute monster." Showed it to Chloe.

Chloe gave her a brief history of the subculture of local street art, artists, crews, pointing out examples along their path as they walked. Gesturing to a large piece with a roughly sprayed wolf, she gave her a rundown on the international travels of the crew that painted it. Threw up a few holos of similar pieces they'd done in Moscow, Sao Paulo. The tags and styles were a language all on their own, it seemed. More of the rich, artistic tapestry of parallel cultures, co-layered over urban spaces.

Ahead, Ariel interrupted. "This is the spot, guys. We're here."

They piled up.

"Where's here? This blank door?" asked Parker.

"Yep. Secret squirrel. Come on. Believe it or not, this place is big inside and kinda famous." Ariel knocked twice at the door. Another small group of patrons approached from an adjacent alley.

A chubby, bespectacled doorman in a flamboyant, leopard-patterned suit-coat threw open the door, sized up both groups, fake-scowled, then invited them in with an exaggerated gesture and a broad smile.

Dimly lit, unadorned, the hallway was long and narrow. They had to walk single-file, and even then, it was tight. At the far end, hanging wires, another door, leading to another hallway. Wider and shorter, wallpapered with crushed velvet and framed posters of various singers on stage. A turn. Club lighting took over as bass leaked through the walls. Black-lights and neons, excited scripting mixed with decorative English words. Max read the signs as they went. Caught up to Ariel.

"Wait - this is like a real live show?"

Ari smiled. "Yep. House band members are all pros - touring and studio musicians - and some of the regular singers are crazy good. Don't get me wrong, the themed booth places can be super fun, but this is world class karaoke right here. More expensive, but…company card. Don't tell?"

Max chuckled. "How'd you find it?"

"Internet," she confessed. "Sophie asked for help finding a place. I asked around online for something special. This seemed right. Well, and there's that one other one with a Family Guy theme, but it's small, and I wasn't sure we'd all fit inside."

"It's—"

"What's the name?" Chloe interrupted from the window booth. "What are they under? Tried the obvious, but no hits."

"Sorry - s'cuse me." Ari scooted past Max to join Chloe.

Tickets sorted, wristbands on, drink chips pocketed, they all headed in. Chloe waited by the door for Max before walking in with her. The others quickly disappeared ahead, diffused into the crowd.

Max wasn't entirely prepared for what was beyond - it wasn't a bar at all - it was more like a small concert venue. Ceiling was as high as a theater, probably a thousand-plus people inside already, warm, jostling, noisy. At least half that number were crushed onto the standing-room-only dance floor, more at tables and booths around the periphery, and the multi-story ring of balconies upstairs. Bars on all sides, excepting the stage.

Max stalled, slowed, but Chloe kept going, had her hand, pulled her forward. Max skipped to catch up.

On the legit, concert-sized stage, the full band. Two drummers, a bass player, three guitarists, two keyboard players with towering banks of synths and blinky lights, and another on what looked like a laptop and four turntables to the side. Amps, mics on stands, stacks of speakers, lights, more speakers wall mounted everywhere… The auditorium hummed with energy.

"What the…"

Behind the stage, a gigantic LED wall. Synchronized color panels wrapped behind all of the bars, adding their glow to stage and crowd lights, fog machines and lasers. The LED wall changed from color waves to a live shakey-zoom video of the drummer's face. Camera operator was somewhere upstairs in the back.

Max felt a brief pang. Huddled up with Chloe. A nervous laugh, "Shit. What did we get ourselves into here?"

Chloe saw the setup through a completely different set of eyes. Laughing, excited, "Aw man! I know, right? Holy shit! Is this the most awesome motherfuckin' thing you've ever seen in your life?" Chloe let go, twirled.

Max was happy for Chloe, and her enthusiasm was almost contagious, but she re-gripped her hand a little more tightly. "It's a lot of people."

"I know! And we're gonna melt their goddamn faces off!" Chloe ended with a jump and a yell over the crowd. "Woooo!"

Shit. "Well, it's a lot of people. We don't all get a 'chance' to sing, right? Right?"

Chloe turned. "What? No - Ari scored us performer tickets, dude. Limited number. Guarantees us at least one song each. Plus encores if the audience digs us. Most of the crowd are here for the show, not to sing. She said it gets pretty insane."

Quietly. "Sigh." Louder, "Wait - it's the middle of the damn day. Who are all these people? Why are they even here?"

Chloe laughed, joyful. "Come on nerd! It's Japan - we've got our numbers and a big booth upstairs. Everyone's up - we can get food and drink and pick our songs up there."

Chloe pulled her toward the stairs.

Max, trailing at arm's length, gave her best Tina Belcher scowl. "uuuuuuuuuuuuh."

---

Michaels figured they arrived at a good time. Intermission of some sort. Gave them a chance to work their way up to the narrow balcony, pile into their private, U-shaped lounge, and maybe order some solids and liquids while they could still hear each other.

They had a good view of the stage, but monitors graced every wall and pillar with live video as well. He counted twelve steps per half landing, four exits, ten house security guys. From their balcony, they had excellent visibility but only limited cover. Blind spot directly below them. A few mirrors would give hints if they leaned out far enough. Crowd was mostly Japanese, late teens to mid-thirties, two to one ratio of male to female. No gang tattoos that he could see. Nobody printing. He remained relaxed.

"…I don't see how that could possibly be true! The angle required alone…" Tracey laughed easily, gossiping with Parker about some British pop-star tabloid scandal or another.

John could be outgoing, in an easy-going sort of way. But in social situations, Trace was usually next level. Like a multitasking social savant. Artifacts of her upbringing and career choices, probably. While recommending drinks, and in the midst of carrying on multiple simultaneous conversations, she still thought to acknowledge him with a backward touch, without looking away from the others, without breaking stride. A simple, tactile communication, all their own. Something closer to her natural ground-state, when it was just them, with no donors to schmooze or friends or guests to charm or entertain.

A sharp nudge from his left brought him back. Chloe passed him the brightly colored menu tablet.

Ty, not yet seated, gave him an invisible nod. Shorthand. Confirming low alert state. Meant he'd take watch, and that John was free to imbibe tonight.

John returned thanks with similar subtlety, tapped the picture of what he hoped was a beer before passing it on to Trace. Adjusted his coat, fought the strong instinct to loosen his collar.

He felt overdressed for their afternoon out, but Tracey led the morning with something about what constituted proper attire for Valentine's day in Tokyo, and the general collapse of social norms, and probably civilization, once everyone gave up entirely to wear pyjamas in public on the daily.

Followed by a hasty, final run-through of their routine. She had them practicing in the living room for weeks. He imagined, in whatever version of reality existed where they'd never crossed paths, he'd have spent the morning in water, or perhaps shooting friends in the face online, or maybe heading out on a Sunday play-date with his latest overnight casual.

Singing and dancing in his living room wouldn't have ever been on his radar independently. She was unexpected. Delightful. Infuriating. Ridiculous. But…he picked this reality. He'd fight for it.

Even if the final result was a too-snug collar. As with many life-trials, training helped. Could go hours without acknowledging an active itch. Didn't bug him any less, but that was the discipline.

Tracey, turned, whispering, "Don't be nervous - we'll do great - just remember your hopscotch shuffle in the third chorus?"

John whispered back, "I wasn't nervous, but now that you made me think about it…"

She smacked him playfully, dismissively. Leaned back into him, returned to her other conversations.

To his other side, Max & Chloe were busy being Max & Chloe.

Past them, Hector and Ariel appeared to huddle, conspiring over something, probably relating to their performance. No idea what Hector had in his back pocket, but it would probably be amusing.

Ty finally settled in on the other side of Sophie as house-lights dimmed and stage-lights came up.

An MC took the spotlight. John didn't understand the words, but by context, he introduced the next participant. John took in the stage, the layout, visualized what he'd see when they were up there looking out. The locations of the nearest cover. Remembered his shuffle in the third chorus…

---

Sophie rode the joy of the crowd as the acts kicked off. They didn't sing aloud or make noise out of respect for the performers, but many waved their glow sticks, mirroring the patterns of the group on stage.

Planted, legs wide, the lead performer voiced a falsetto version of a current female idol song while performing an intricate, spinning, contortional glow-stick dance with his upper body. Four friends on the stage with him matched his every choreographed expression. They were fast - almost too quick to follow. The spinning trails of glowing lights danced across video panels around the room. Dynamic, glow-stick fires ringed the audience. Everyone knew the words to the song, even if they only sang in their heads.

Set the bar pretty high.

Drinks and food arrived during the next act. Calamari, assorted nigiri, and platters of karaage, kushiage, and grilled squid. Beers and mixed drinks all around, while Sophie and Tyrell had matching diet Cokes.

The first of their numbers lit up lotto-style, to the right of the stage. A signal for the holder to head down for the next place in line.

First from their tribe was Ari. She wasn't so much 'enthusiastic' as she was anxious to get it out of the way so she could chill. When it was her time, she conferred briefly with the band, who gave instructions to the crew. Lights dimmed.

Sophie snacked on edamame.

A few twangs from a lonely guitar and Ari took two long, lazy twirls across the stage, coming to a hiding place behind the lead guitarist. Fingers over his shoulders, eyes peeking out, she voiced her first few lines.

"Are you insane like me…"

"…been in pain like me…"

A pirouette stage right, ending behind one of the keyboardists. Like a sort of maudlin, shy flirtation with the audience, daring the spotlight to find her.

Eyes down, by turns open and withdrawn, she played like that through the song, using the band as cover, and part of her interpretation.

For the chorus, she emerged from behind, raging, flailing, falling, rolling, coming to rest, finally skittering backward to a hiding spot under the turntables, pushed into a corner as if under threat, eyes wide, arms covering her head for the next verse.

Then out from under, behind the musicians, sultry, disjointed, finally falling once again.

Sophie had more insight than most, and even she was surprised by Ariel's unexpectedly raw and vulnerable performance. The others, without specific context, didn't see it.

Alone in the spotlight, exposed, she finished the final verses in Japanese, voice slowing, growing smaller as she retreated, her presence diminishing into the background. She pushed through the side stage curtain in silence, leaving the spotlight empty at the end, as though she was never there. Notes faded.

The audience responded with clapping and cheers.

She gave them an honest performance.

As Ariel made her way back to the balcony, Sophie felt her relief. Caught up in the adrenaline fade from her time on stage, a little sweaty, but done. Next act was already in play. Her booth-mates greeted her with nods and claps, while Hector held out for a casual fist-bump as she reclaimed her seat.

She sipped at a straw.

"So…that was uh…intense?" offered Parker, leaning.

Ari laughed it off. "Sometimes the muse grabs you."

Sophie knew better, but it was all healthy.

"…and sometimes, you grab the muse," joked Chloe. "Inappropriately, of course."

"As one does…" Tracey crossed her legs, chin to hand. Sipped.

Nicely done, Sophie thought privately to her, slightly raising her diet Coke in a toast.

Thanks - it was okay? Wasn't too much or anything? Not a hundred percent sure what happened up there. Was winging it and sorta let go.

Their applause was genuine.

Ari felt relieved. Okay. Cool. And now I think I'll finish this drink in about two gulps and get another. Haha.

Sophie smiled. You still have one more.

Oh shit. That's right. Yeah, that's…meh - that'll be super fun though. I won't be alone.

Sophie smiled. Don't tell me. I'm trying to be surprised.

You got it. And…thanks. Ari took a sip, slid back all the way. Quick, furtive glances around the booth before following their attention forward to the stage.

Sophie returned her attention through the audience below.

---

Max noticed their quick touch out of the corner of her eye. It was dark, but she was pretty sure she saw what she saw. Leaned close, whispered to Chloe, "Uh, how long has that been going on?"

Chloe cracked a half-smile, whispered back, "Where you been? Old news, babe."

Max gave a sly smile. "Huh. I mean, it's cool, I just didn't see it. And…you didn't tell me."

Chloe downed a shot of sake. "They've been on the DL. I assumed you—"

"No. Not at all. I can totally see it now though." Max stole a glance. "They're…so…cute."

Sophie might have smiled. Max couldn't tell in the light.

Shit - sorry. Didn't mean to…you know. Sorry - carry on, Max thought quickly, quietly to herself, in case Soph was listening or aware.

No reaction. Ty remained oblivious beside her.

Chloe leaned in again. "Hey - not to change subjects, but they're gonna call my number in two songs. I wanna mingle with the crowd down there, build some energy before I'm up. I know you'd probably rather—"

"Go. I'm good. I'll be here, safe in the many arms of all this yummy calamari." Max pushed her.

"I see how it is. Save my seat?" Chloe stood, hesitated.

Max fake-scowled. "I don't think so. Without you here, I'll probably get pretty lonely. Just give it away to the first cute girl who wanders by…"

Chloe walked backward, gave Max a majestic double-bird. "Asshole." Stepped, turned, headed downstairs through the crowd with a smile.

Max called out after her, "Have fun. Break a leg! Go Chloe!"

John looked around, joined with a playfully half-hearted "Woo?"

"Oh, is she up?" asked Parker.

"Two more songs," said Max, popping another calamari in her mouth.

She caught sight of Chloe briefly, down in the crowd, but lost her. Hide and seek all over again. Max found the nearest security camera, stuck her tongue out at it. The red light blinked twice. Always on the move, young Price. And always keeping your eyes out.

After another ten minutes, it was Chloe's turn on stage.

John and Trace stood up at the railing.

Max leaned forward, eyes on stage. I love this part.

House lights dimmed, darkened. A chorus of "Woo, Chloe!", "Go!" from Trace and Ariel.

The guitar drone cut through the room, all energetic static and crunch. Held the note, layered feedback. The band, lit from above, supplied the repeating wind-up vocal chant. "Black sheep, come home…"

Max bit her lip. Ow! Too hard.

Blue and white lights spiraled onto Chloe. Her head was down, mic at her side, with her other hand on the top of the empty mic stand, leaning out at an angle. The cymbal wash escalated. The guitar crackled with energy. Chloe tapped her boot. Nodded her head to the same tempo as the band wound up.

In the crowd, all varieties of glow-sticks went into the air, spun around in lazy circles. They knew the song.

Chloe moved in time as the noisy intro rose in volume and complexity. On the first kick drum and rhythm guitar note, she was let loose to bounce around.

Sensual, playing, Chloe hugged the mic with both hands. She launched into the intro verse, breathing the first few lines in a perfect recreation. Three headbangs. Hair a mess. Her eyes met Max's. This was for her.

"…our common goal was waiting for the world to end…"

Hair flipping, head bobbing, smile turned to pout, Chloe scanned the room, looking left and right as she sang.

"…shape shift and trick the past again…"

When she cut into the chorus, it was like everything went liquid. She jumped, danced free. The room exploded into rhythmic light and color and energy and choreographed lasers and animations of what were clearly the 8-bit cartoon Adventures of Max and Chloe and friends, complete with figures and hearts and flowers and rainbows and fun monsters. A little story, rendered in digital retro-graphics, running around the room like a giant side-scroller.

Max overheard John laughing, "…and that was the day Chloe Price pulled Tokyo straight into the Matrix…"

She's so right up there.

In another, less fucked up, world, this could have been her real life.

Always said she'd make a badass rock star.

Chloe danced, swayed on the stage, playing to, and engaging, the crowd. Max wobbled in her seat in a vaguely dancey fashion, finally standing to wobble in place at the railing. Looked at the security camera again, mouthed, "Big stupid goof. Love you." Crinkled her nose. Red light blinked.

By the time Chloe finished out the song, the 2-d cartoon figures had left the screens behind to move through open air as room-filling holograms. The crowd pretty much lost their minds, with wild cheers for the unexpected VFX show. For Max, it was all a flustery mix of Chloe appreciation.

I would have been a good groupie, I think. I'm not sure what they do, exactly. Guess I could look it up online. But you know. The thought is there.

Chloe lingered on stage, after, blowing kisses to the crowd, taking bows, gesturing a 'give it up for the band', until she was over-dramatically shooed away by the MC. She jumped back on stage, the crowd cheered, the MC took two big steps toward her, stomped, and she jumped off, onto the stairs, looked away innocently. He stopped. Turned. She raised a foot, edging toward the stage. He raised his, edging closer to her. They did this little impromptu back-and-forth dance, to the delight of the crowd, until Chloe finally gave a deep bow to the audience, blended into them.

"She's a natural," said Tracey, over her shoulder.

"That's one way to put it, yes," laughed Max. "She's definitely a something. But please don't say anything? She's gonna be impossible to live with for the next three days as it is…"

Parker asked, "Are you nervous now? About how you're going to top that?"

She pretended not to hear him.

Chloe rejoined minutes later, crashing back into the booth next to Max. "Okay, that was super fucking fun! Let's buy this place. Can I have my allowance?"

"Ham." Max rolled her eyes.

"Hey! You know you loved it." Energized, Chloe grabbed her, gave her a big kiss below her ear.

Max batted her eyelashes. "Guilty. And…yeah, you were pretty hot up there, not gonna lie. Rockstar wife."

Chloe sat back, all smug and swagger. "Just don't get jealous of my relationship with the audience and we'll be fine. They're my people. But I'm still going home with you after all. Besides, you'll have your chance with them."

A local couple was on stage, belting out a passable show tune.

Max made a face. "Uh huh."

---

Chloe threw back another shot of sake. Simulated some of the old familiar effects of alcohol on her system. She kicked back in the booth, legs stretched out on a small table. Max cuddled next to her. They were surrounded by friends. Warm and happy.

A handful of other singers gave their all before it was time for Hector and Ariel to go up and sing what Chloe dubbed their 'loser-song-of-suck-ass-shame'.

They took a minute to set up. Hector conferred with the band, handed them sheet music. Borrowed a stool to sit on, as well as an acoustic guitar. Adjusted the strap, ducked under it. Ari took up a mic-stand behind his left shoulder. Lowered it to the proper height. Hands behind her back, her presence over-earnest.

Chloe cupped her hand, heckled, "OMG Ponies! Wooooooooo!"

Max smacked at her.

From others,

"Go, Hector!"

"We love you guys!"

"Ow!"

Silence from the crowd.

Hector waved once to acknowledge them, graciously, his expression serious. Pushed hair behind his left ear. Gently strummed a few bars - setting the right tempo for his dual streams, giving the band something to follow.

Drums and bass picked up, played along. A simple, soft spotlight graced the duo.

Ty leaned out, said, "Now this doesn't sound anything like the MLP theme."

"The what?" asked John, hiding a smile.

"The…youtube, man. Look it up. It's a kid's show - thought that's what they signed up for?"

Chloe recognized the tune. Chuckled. "Well, technically, we said it had to be about ponies. But we didn't specify…"

Sophie heard it too. "Clever boy."

John kicked back, hands behind his head. "Think you guys got played…"

On stage, Hector, voice cracking, heavy with emotion, sang out with a country-twang, "Up in horsie heaven, here's the thing…"

Ty leaned, elbows on the railing, shook his head. "Fuckin' Hector, man…"

Ari came in on harmonies but stayed background.

Curious, Tracey asked, "This is from…?"

Voice low, John explained, "Yeah. It's a song from that show Parks and Rec. It's streaming. There was a recurring arc with a tiny horse, and…one dude who didn't get the town's love was all about…"

Hector and Ari belted out, "Byyyyye Byyye Little Sebastiaaaaan…"

A few members of the audience waved their glow sticks back and forth overhead.

John continued, "And then he died, and…and there was like this big funeral…and one of the characters' bands, the guy from Guardians of the Galaxy, MouseRat, wrote this song…"

"Wait - who? MouseRat?" Puzzled.

"Yeah - MouseRat. What?"

She took out her phone, as though she was going to look it up. "Who was that? I don't remember a MouseRat from Guardians of the Galaxy?"

John shook his head, pushed down her phone. "No, it's…sorry - one of the characters of the show - who was in the movie - had a band on the show called— "

"Oh. Okay. That's quite confusing, the way you explained it," Tracey admonished.

Hector, near tears, "You're 5,000 candles iiiiin the wind…"

Ari leaned in, gently touched Hector's shoulder, as though consoling him.

Max whispered to Chloe, "Please please please tell me you're recording this?"

"Duh."

Trace shook her head. "I don't get it. I'm listening, and these words don't make any sense."

John patted her back. "That's kind of the joke…"

"But…ah."

"Oh yeah, Chris Pratt. That's his name," John remembered

Tracey made a face. "Well, you could have started there. I know who Chris Pratt is. I'm English, not Martian."

Ariel yelled out, "Everybody sing it now!"

Max and Parker stood, joined Ty at the railing again, started singing it with them. They swayed in time with the waves of the glow stick ocean below, bumping Ty between them. By the third chorus, tradition was in tatters, and most of the audience below was singing along.

Chloe had to give them props.

They made a moment.

---

Max ordered another fizzy fruit-water. They'd been through a second round of snacks, and four or five rounds of beverages. Glasses clustered on the tables like small cities.

"Last eel?" Chloe asked.

Max yawned. "You're a last eel. Hehe. No, I'm eeled out. Take it. It's eel yours."

"Booo." Chloe scratched the back of Max's head. "Sleepypants already? You're so cute." She reached for the last piece of unagi. Popped it in her mouth.

Max stifled another yawn. "Nope. I'm good. It's only ten at home. I'm just full and snuggly and warm. That's my problem." She tucked one leg under her, leaned back into Chloe.

"Don't get too comfy, yet. You're up in 20. And somebody's gotta drive everyone home later." Chloe hummed low notes into the back of her head, jawbone to skull.

Max's vision vibrated all wonky. "That feels weird."

Everyone else from their group had their stage time already. Almost everyone.

John and Trace did a jaunty, choreographed song and dance to Oh Wonder's 'Ultralife'. Tracey mentioned that she liked their first album, so Chloe shot her files of their entire future catalog a month ago. The song Trace and John did wouldn't technically be written or released for another year, so Chloe made sure no recordings of their performance survived to threaten that aspect of the timeline. Said she kept one for herself, of course. Mostly for messing with John later. Tracey was the driver of this little dance number, but John played along, kept up surprisingly well.

Parker performed a fierce, stunning rendition of Rihanna's "Only girl in the world." Totally made it work. Hard to go wrong with RiRi, though.

And John, Ty, and Chloe joined forces on stage for a rousing and energetic version of some song or another by Linkin Park, maybe? Max was pretty sure anyway. Didn't know them well enough to tell which song or anything. But it turned out, Ty had a pretty good shouty-voice.

A waiter brought Max her fizzy water as Sophie and Hector got up to walk downstairs. Max took a sip. Can't fall asleep yet. Air? Yeps. She turned her head, whispered, "Hey Chlo. Imma step outside. Back in a few?"

Chloe, voicing concern, "Everything okay? You know you don't have to go up if you're not feeling it. Sophie's not singing either. It's no big deal."

Max smiled. Shook her head. "Guess I sounded way sadder than I intended just now. No, you know me. My inner introvert folding her wings. I'll be fine once I'm up there. Need to wake myself up though. Plus, maybe some butterflies, I guess."

Chloe nodded. "Cute. I'll save your seat. Come back to me, dahling."

"Always. BRB." Max kissed her before leaving.

She really was sleepy and full and all that. But it was also a lot of people and lot of noise for hours, and she wanted to chill for a few without a lot of people around. Stretch maybe. Looking forward to being alone with Chloe for three whole days though. Just the two of them.

She didn't feel like making the analog push through the warm crowd to get to the narrow, twisting hallway outside. Found a corner, out of sight, by the top of the staircase, folded to just outside the front door, out in the alleyway.

A sea of cold air hit her. Refreshing. Like walking into the freezer section of the grocery store on a hot summer day. Least for a few minutes, until it started to penetrate. As she shivered, warmed the air around her, the doorman let Sophie and Hector out.

"You should talk to her…" Sophie trailed off.

Max folded her arms. "Beat you guys." Stuck out her tongue.

Sophie continued toward her. "Hello, Max. We thought we might find you out here."

"You left first."

"You were looking a little pensive in there," Hector threw his arm around her shoulder. "Come on. Under cover, children." He walked them both around the corner, under a shop awning, out of the downpour.

Max extended her blanket of warmth around the two of them as well. "That sounds like a detective novel. You guys did awesome up there. It's been a fun night!"

"Thanks. Told you I had a plan."

"Well played. In more ways than one, then." Max leaned up against the wall, one foot back, watching the rain come down. "How long has it been since you two have had a chance to hang out?"

Hector shrugged. "We email a lot."

Sophie punched his arm.

He laughed. "Ow. See? This is why we don't hang out. You're mean as a snake."

"I'll remember that comment next time you forget coffee." Sophie turned her attention to Max. Put her hand on her shoulder. "Do you have a moment? Or would you prefer we leave you to some quiet?"

Max put her hand over Sophie's. "I can make quiet time whenever I want. We don't get to hang out nearly as often. What's up your noggins?"

"That was going to be my question for you." Sophie leaned, took a spot to the right of Max. "Different words. It's been a few months. So much has happened."

Max nodded. "Obvious answer is obvious. Is it time already? I know you guys worry about me."

Hector bumped her playfully from the left. "For. Never about."

All three leaned, their backs against the tiled wall, watching the rain fall from a darkening sky. A street lamp burst to life across the alley, lighting new drops from behind.

"Thanks, guys. It always helps me feel better. Fair warning, it's prolly kinda messy in there today," Max apologized. "Haven't cleaned my room. I mean, you guys know what it's been like."

Sophie reassured. "Not messy. Only more lifetimes than most; you and Chloe both. More accumulation, perhaps, with more years? More drama of the world than most will ever see." Sophie linked arms with her. "And yes, we do know what's been happening. I've personally run out of adjectives. But more important is how it has all affected you. How have you felt? Have you let her—"

Shifting to Sophie's mind, Max stopped her. You know I love that you guys do this with me every few months, but I can see where your head is. This is a conversation we've had off and on for as long as we've known each other. Still trying to wear me down?

Sophie, warm thoughts, Never. You're in the driver's seat. Always. You know this. It's good that you share with someone, and I'm honored that you choose to do so with Hector and me as often you do. Even if Chloe is the one who deserves it most.

Deserves? Max closed her eyes, threw her head back. Do I detect a hint of judgement in your choice of words? You know why I can't.

Hector took her hand. Leaned his head on hers. Perspective, not judgement; you know better, dude. And you're protecting her. Keeping the timeline clean for Chloe. That's what you usually say. But…huh…there's always something new to see in here. It is more than just that, isn't it?

No, I —

Sophie, aloud, "What is it, Hector? Why don't you show me what you mean?"

Back in the link, he highlighted the background patterns, shapes, abstractions. Pathways.

Max wasn't sure what any of it meant. It was always just blobs of nonsense to her.

Something new. Maybe old. Can't tell. It's just there. A phrase she used. Follow that thread back? A tiny knot. See? Oh. Okay - Max - think back to right before you made your final jump from the far future. What did you say to her? You've thought about it recently. In your goodbye. It's something in your choice of words. We're right here.

Max, eyes closed, squeezed his hand.

With Sophie's guidance, she doubled back through layers of guilt. Through utter helplessness, overwhelming, terrible sadness and loss, to a moment of despair tempered only by that last resort, last-ditch glimmer of hope. The jump.

Haltingly, she gave voice to words last spoken to her other Chloe, hundreds of years from now in her last branch of reality. It went, 'I'm so sorry that all of this, all of us, will be lost for you, Chloe. But I remember everything. I swear I'll make it up to you. So many mistakes, so much trauma we don't have to repeat.'

Hector squeezed back. …there. See? It's okay, Max. But those were your own words before you jumped. Did you catch that? We. Trauma we don't have to repeat. It wasn't only about Chloe then, was it? You made an intentional decision to be more expansive.

Max felt sick. She didn't prepare for this. Should have pushed off. Oh man. My last decision was fizzy fruit drink or plain water. Sorry guys, was just out for air. You caught me off guard is all… Uh…

Sophie breathed alongside her. A calm. Take your time. It's not an ambush. But it's not always best to prepare yourself.

Sometimes, off guard is the only way to get past the guards, Hector added with a wry smile.

Max rolled her closed eyes. I hate you. Jerkface.

He gave her another bump. I feel like we're close to something. Keep going. If you can. What were you thinking? Find it.

She slumped. I mean, obviously, no, I didn't want to go. In the end. I must have been there for weeks, frozen in that stupid perma-death rewind moment. Before reaching the break-point where I couldn't see any other way. Couldn't go forward, backward felt futile and just plain cruel. I wanted to join her. I hated myself - it felt like giving up. I couldn't go back to her. She'd see it in me. Something coming. But saying goodbye from the static was the only way I was able to let go. Made the decision to jump back far enough to make a difference, to try to make my way to the Chloe waiting on this end. If there was a chance to make it like none of it ever happened, I had to take it. Or make things a little less fucked up. I believed it was all gone. And I left everything. My world. My love…

Sophie whispered, You didn't know. And you have made things here better already. That's good, Max - your effect on this world…on all of us is very real.

Max struggled. I don't know guys. I think it was like, if I could make it so nothing happened, then…maybe it could all be shiny for me too. But… we've gone over this, haven't we?

Hector, a guiding voice in her head. Yes, but it's always been more complicated than that, hasn't it? For both of you. Or all four of you, perhaps, from a certain point of view?

Max kept going. Yeah. Okay. Fine. And never mind it was all bullshit - but then throw in the outside interference during the jump from those asshole shadow-whatever-motherfuckers. It's messed me up, or at least thrown me off more than I like to admit. First and only time I've jumped into a younger self and retained multiple sets of awareness, memories. I'm linear - it was only a few months of partial overlap, but that…reminder…minute to minute, being the girl I was, the person who existed before any of the really horrible shit happened again. Thinking I was her, with 100% of my awareness, or near enough. I was the youngest possible me again. It stuck with me after. Arcadia was as real and recent as leaving OtherChloe, even though I knew better. It still pulls at me. There's been a sort of 'what would YoungMax think or do' vs. 'What would OlderMax think or do'. Wrong words. Just sounds. It's not like there are two people or anything. You can see it's not…it's just…I'm acutely aware of how simultaneously divergent my reactions to people or events can be at any given moment. From those two perspectives. And it's like, I get to choose who I am, which voice I listen to if they disagree. Or work it out if there are more subtle differences…

Their thoughts were broken by a couple on a scooter buzzing down the alleyway, exhaust note echoing off the walls.

Sophie leaned into her. Redirected. Max, some would argue that ability to see things from multiple perspectives, to evaluate and decide in a balanced way, is a desirable trait, and a sure sign of wisdom.

I know, Soph. I was pretty convinced I already had that, by my age and experience. But I suppose that's kinda bullshit too. I'm not without doubts. Where do they come from? Am I allowing them, indulging them, too now? Can we afford that distraction? And sometimes, it's like, I know somewhere offscreen, I have every memory from every branch, every false start, every fuckup. Everything I've ever done or will do. All of time. I just can't get there from here. I don't know how. Or if it's even possible… Or why I'd want to. But my linear memory, here, now, what I have access to as a person stuck in the grain of this universe, even that's slippery. Example, whether I choose to leave myself a note, or jump back to change things directly, each time it's a choice I make. About what I keep. A choice to make all the memories and accept the changes those experiences write into my personality. Or leave it to another unseen version of me. Reset. Like, I'm maybe editing not just for Chloe, but for my own personal lifeline experiences and memory as I go too. By choosing to participate directly or punt to another Max, which is just another part of me that I don't retain memory of in the here and now. Maybe…you're right. Maybe I'm not trying to keep things shiny for Chloe alone. Maybe I'm doing it for myself too, without really intending to, or being aware of it. I don't know. Is that bad though? I know there's a lot I'd love to forget. If I could. What do you guys see in there? 'Sides laundry, I mean? Max gave a half-hearted chuckle.

Sophie rested her head on Max's shoulder. It's always been complicated, dear. You have more than twenty-five generations of lifetime in your head. I can see it easily. But what Hector sees is his own - and more necessary to help you. And unfortunately, his view of you has been far less clear. It's the difference between communicating with a mind, which I do, and understanding pain-points in a consciousness, which is what Hector brings. But you also have infinitely more that's hidden even from yourself. I don't know what feeds back where. I don't have the answer. There's no-one like you. And yet.

—I'm not so different from anyone else?

That's right. In many ways. And maybe it's not such a bad thing, Max. What you do for Chloe. What you do for yourself. I know what your intentions mean for the rest of us, and I'm grateful every day that you are who you've chosen to be. And I do believe that you have chosen the person you are. So whatever you're doing, whatever compromises you make in those lost branches, it seems to be working. But is it healthy for you, long-term? I don't know. I can't know what I can't see. Who you are, the big you - it's maybe not only memories from your personally accessible lifeline. Like you said, somewhere, perhaps there is a cumulative 'you' outside of all of this that sees everything you've seen. Knows everything you'll ever know. And if so, she's also the product of every decision. Indecision. Action. Inaction. Every regret held. Every truth unstated. All the branches explored and erased, every loop you've undone. Everything from here to the end of infinity perhaps even. And maybe whatever else that there ever was or will be that has nothing to do with this universe. But…that's so far beyond anything we can address from our small place in the universe. Whatever is true, I know you worry that there's an unseen place where they all roll up. And that some of that may roll down to you sometimes in unpredictable ways. It's been exhilarating and sometimes scary for you, those sudden feelings or dreams or forward leaps in your capabilities, but…if something does roll down, then you must also see that you have to be contributing to your whole self in the other direction too. Your choices here, who you are. You write yourself.

Sophie stopped. Quietly laughed. You know, three years ago, I wouldn't have even understood half of what has become standard conversation when we chat with you or Chloe. And there's still so much I don't. You're deceptively similar to the rest of us, but I know that line of thinking does you a great disservice. Chloe too. But, I believe you ultimately have to trust yourself. And if you choose to edit yourself in a way, maybe that's no different from choices other people make every day. We're all the busy products of many things - some we control, some that happen around us, or to us. But you can change circumstances for yourself to be more favorable in ways that are unimaginable for the rest of us. As a percentage, far more is in your control than simply happens around you. Max Caulfield is not an accidental person. You get to shape yourself through far more active and intentional means than most of us. That's a great privilege, and a great burden for you, I know. With such power, a pressure to get it right - to shape who you become most correctly. Because the effects of that will ripple out to touch so many. I've seen you. I know you. And I trust you with my life, as well as the future of all of us. In the beginning, when we first met, and you were mostly present as the younger you - even then, I was very proud of you. For who you were as a person, and who you struggled to be. You fight for others. I don't worry about you in the way you sometimes might.

Hector jumped in, I agree with her Max. But bringing it full circle, you don't have to carry all these questions and troubles by yourself in silence. You have us, always - but you also have Chloe. So, look, I'm with Soph on this - and I'm gonna keep beating on this drum. Share everything with Chloe, man. Even the bad stuff. Maybe especially the bad stuff. She's as strong as you. And together, you're stronger than either of you are alone.

But —

No wait - please, let me finish. I know what you worry about - but letting Chloe know that there was trauma, erased in another timeline that was itself erased - isn't the same thing as making her go through it herself firsthand. I don't know if you remember, but we had a similar conversation after we first met. Before she found you. Same truth stands - it's not like you're bringing something back to life for a survivor. Not your way, when you've already literally rewritten the events of reality itself. It's not repressed memories or anything like that for any of us - it literally hasn't happened. It won't have the same effect on her psyche. At all. Give her some credit. You too. I know that's not…it's not that way for you. Not completely. Our minds are tricksy. And there's probably some real merit in protecting Chloe from some of the goriest details - and keeping yourself from reliving them or dwelling on them too deeply. It's okay to edit. But this sort of absolute you've given yourself - about what you have to leave behind for her at the cost of everything else - I think you've taken it to its extreme, and you've fallen into an impossible trap that's been five hundred years in the making. Life isn't clean like that for anyone. Maybe you're protecting yourself from reliving the bad, more than you're protecting her. And that would be okay if you properly processed any of it, but you haven't. And by keeping silent with the one person you love most in the world, you maintain this quiet wall between you. I don't want to go all Pink Floyd here, but…

Wait, you're suggesting this is really all about me? Max tugged at him. Callin' me a narcissist?

If only it were that simple… I know you're deflecting tonight, but for real - you're the only one of us to experience the events of the realities you've erased. They live nowhere else but in you. And that's a problem. It's all still very real for you - and invisible to everyone else - I know you feel alone, yet you intentionally carry all that pain, keep it to yourself. It's a mistake. Chloe's here, now, with you, feeling the echoes in your silence. It's not fair to either of you.

Okay, Hector - I mean…protecting her, by keeping these things secret from her, you really believe I'm doing more harm than good?

He nodded. No doubt in my mind. To you, to her, and most important, to your relationship. I'd never presume to lecture you on how to manage a long-term gig. But If you two really are partners, I go back to Sophie's words. She deserves all of you. And you deserve all of her. You haven't ever had that. Not yet. And keeping secrets from each other…it's like you're breaking your prime directive with… wait… oh, what? Sorry Max - hold on. Sophie - holy shit. Look.

He dove. Zoomed out. Sidewise. A thread that terminated. Sophie told her it shouldn't have an end like that. He followed it, slipped. Shifted. The rest appeared.

Max could tell they were somewhere new.

No. That's not it. The shiny timeline thing - it is - a part of it, but it's also a giant smokescreen. Shit. Soph. There. Goddammit. I am not very smart.

Sophie highlighted for Max what Hector was visualizing. Three tuned knots, linked to each other, but inverted - everything was inside out - the knots were on the outside, sliding between each other, surrounding everything inside his point of view. Appeared as the background. So expansive, that they were missed in plain sight. He moved the center, something rotated in an odd direction, and they became visibly interlinked knots again. Back.

Of course. Never even considered… Hector's disappointment in himself bled through. Quick 101 - what you saw - what I see in people, with Sophie's help - it's my interpretation, of a person's psychology, pathology, their experiences, traumas, pain, injuries, things stand out, it's…Sophie helps me connect, but I experience what I see in my own head as a visual - that three-dimensional space with volumes and patterns and abstract shapes and colors and forms that are self-consistent to me - each is a unique map of a person's consciousness, and a language for understanding them.

Max raised a mental eyebrow. The blobs?

Hector corrected, Or something like VR of medical scans, whatever. Okay, fine - blobs. You get the idea, smartass. Things get tangled up, stand out visually. And once I find something, we all have to sync back up to figure out what it is - locate the whatever-it-is that corresponds to the patterns I see, navigating with Sophie, using her access to their memories - that's mostly Sophie and me together, sometimes asking questions and guiding. It usually goes pretty quick. Minutes. Hours. The finding it part. But we missed something with you. See? That's why we've never…

The whole visual snapped, changed to something completely different. And again. And again.

Max shrugged, I'm sorry - I don't have any idea what I'm looking at. I've never understood this part. Your language, not mine. What does any of it mean?

He started over. With everyone else, it's always the same. I can move in any of three-axes through the map. See what I need to see. Like our view of the real world. Our brains are wired for the space we work in.

Sure. But…

My map is wrong for your mind. Well, incomplete. Wrong shape. I thought it was because there was so much more complexity, from you being alive so long, and that's why it's taken us way more time to get anywhere with you. But it's apparently cause I'm a giant dumbass. Guess what? Surprise. Like the rest of you, your consciousness goes in more directions than we usually have available to us here. And…I don't know how to visualize an 8-dimensional volume. Nobody does. I'm making the number up; I don't know how many. I've only been seeing a tiny 3-D slice though, thinking it was all of you. Turns out, we landed inside a higher dimensional trauma abstract, and I didn't recognize it. I can move in three axis all I want - but I'm only moving around inside this same slice. Gotta go a new direction off the map to see, is all. But any non-3-D direction, it's a whole new slice. Fortunately —

Max squinted her eyebrows together. Shuddered. Guys. English. Please? You're making my head hurt.

Sorry Max. Bottom line - we've got it. It's solved.

Wait - what? For reals?

It's work for you now, but…those jump cuts you saw - those were me moving in additional directions. Dimensions of volume. I can get us back to what we saw, just outside it. The three big knots are what we needed - we hit the mark first time we did this, like two years ago. It still worked - I've been looking for something that was literally all around us - looking at it the whole time - just didn't realize we were inside it. Okay, sorry. It's so simple now. Soph? You mind? You got this from here?

Sure. Yes. Sophie put it all together for Max. It isn't complicated. In your heart, you've codified, come to believe, that if you can keep the terrible versions of reality from everyone else, then maybe it was all worth it. And maybe, you can one day forgive yourself. Not for what happened to Chloe in all the courses of her lives. But for leaving her behind. For abandoning her.

Max froze. Her breath caught, chest tightened. But I already know that I left…why does this feel like this to me now? Why do I…?

Sophie took her hand. Max. I'm sorry - this, we didn't see it ourselves until just now. You talked with her, that day when we were going to share your memories with her, before she was activated within herself - but this part is still unresolved. It's not the single instance at the end of the last branch, when you jumped. But the repeating pattern, you see?

They were right.

Fuck.

She held on to them both, brow furrowed. Concentrating. Followed.

There it was. The truth of it.

The tangled mess of truths and timelines and triggers and blended memories, maybe mixed up with a fair bit of unresolved serial PTSD and denial and righteous anger for the broken world and their real progress and insistence on the bright shiny path and never again for everyone over…broken promises…and…it was all wrong. They were all valid. Symptoms. Point problems. But she missed it. They did too.

And she knew it was true and wrong and right and they were the only options she ever had and the only choices she could make at the time, based on what she knew and what her hijacked senses told her, and yet…

I left Chloe behind.

I left her all alone.

Went away.

Again.

And again.

And again.

…and again…and…

After her dad died. And in that fucking bathroom. And after the train station, when I found her again years later and I didn't even try to comfort her and…I just noped out, and fucking left her there, broken, I jumped again and again in so many loops and so many other times… Leaving her behind each time, and when it really counted, in spite of all the promises that I'd never do it again I…jumped away from her forever at the end. And then when Roland took us, I left her again. I went to sleep, and fuck, none of the good I do, and none of the lives I save or the world I changed will ever make up for…

Spiraling, Max felt the return of guilt and sorrow, unassailable, deserved…even if not. Not anger. No tears. Just a continuation of that deep, black sorrow she carried with her for so long. Her backdrop. Unconscionable. Undeserved. I left fucking her. It's all I ever do, isn't it. Time after time… She's always alone in the end. I said I'd never…and it doesn't matter that my parents moved us, or that I went back and saved her again, or that I kept trying over and over, or any of the times I brought her back or even that the end wasn't fucking real. She needed me, and it doesn't matter that I didn't know. The result was the same. Fuck. Every time. Alone. And she…

Max felt both of them in her mind with her then. The love of her friends. Uncritical. Seeing her as she was, decisions, flaws, mistakes and all, accepting and loving still. Felt Hector's hand on her shoulder. A calm. He pulled her into a group hug to match their mental one.

Miserable, she faltered.

What's wrong with me guys?

I know I'm not dumb.

I know I'm not trying to be dramatic or anything.

I'm smart enough to know what's real, what should matter.

I know what's reasonable for a person.

I know I've been painted into corners where there's been no other way out.

I know I've never left her by choice.

I know I've never ever abandoned her in my heart.

I know I should forgive myself.

So why do I feel this way?

Why do I carry this? Why…

But…

Sophie, soothing, My dear, sweet friend. Knowing, and believing, may be very different things for you. Knowing hasn't helped you feel any less responsible. Any less heartbroken or sad. And now we can also see, on top of it all, you were so anxious for our Chloe to feel loved, to feel like she was primary, that you denied yourself any time to process your grief for the love you'd lost. Sprinkle on conflicting guilt over broken promises and…trying to change the course of a world in so many ways; it's too many impossible complications for anyone. It makes me so sad that you see yourself as so alone.

Hector, confident, Max, you've been dealing and not-dealing with this on your own for so long you don't even know the edges anymore. Those three stupid fucking knots fighting and reinforcing each other. See them now, and recognize them for what they are. Understand their limits.

The first knot is your absolute directive to protect Chloe from everything that's ever happened to her - which you've put into practice as recrafting all of time and space around her, but keeping the truth only for yourself - lies of omission. In so doing, you've walled off large parts of your life that are devastatingly traumatic for you. Bottled all of that pain in for yourself alone. You can't.

The second is that you've ignored your grief at the loss of OtherChloe. You were together longer than anyone in history has ever been. That she may still be out there somewhere only makes it harder to come to any closure. And being with our Chloe fogs that up for you too. But you have to come to terms with all of that, somehow.

And the third, tightly bound with the others, you have unresolved guilt for what you judge to be your serial abandonment of Chloe across multiple timelines and branches of reality. And worse, you don't believe that you deserve forgiveness. Without that, you can't move on from any of it.

The knots are self-reinforcing and dependent on each other. And that's the shape of the trap you've been in. You haven't been able to work any of it out on your own. Pull to loosen one, the others get tighter. It's why you've been reacting to effects as though they're causes. It's why you feel suffocated. Trapped.

Chloe, our resident smartass and chief hyper-intelligence - who loves you more than anything - could help you, but you won't talk to her, because doing so would violate your own misguided 'keep it shiny' absolute. But I think you need to re-examine your commitment to this in light of your results. It's not working. You've been through so much. Too much. And instead of asking her for assistance, you've cut yourself off. And sadly, from parts of yourself as well.

Max held them tight. But…maybe…I'm so sorry Chloe. And then OtherChloe... You lived out your life…over so much time…not knowing if I abandoned you again…or…and…

Old ground.

Sophie, gently but firmly, No, Max. No. That's not the way. Look into your heart. This is the place where you need to go. Center. She always knew. It's why she fought so hard to find you. It's why she found you. And she did. She found you. I was there, remember? And I was there again, when her memories went online in our Chloe. I watched a part of you shut down when you discovered that she continued without you. That's my fault. I should have done more to push you, and sooner. I see that now. But if she was here with us, right now, you know what she'd say to you - because we all do. Who or where she is in time or space makes no difference - she's still your Chloe Price. And she'd say that she loves you and that there's nothing to forgive, Max. Nothing, ever. But you already know that. Even if you don't believe you deserve it. Sadly, it's not about her forgiveness.

Sophie let her go. I think…I think we've helped as much as we can for right now. I too am so very sorry it took us so long, but there's nothing to be done about it.

Hector interjected, In our defense, we're not the most expensive therapists…

Sophie shushed him. Max, you may not feel this way now, but this is a real breakthrough. A victory. In discovering the tangled roots, you can see everything else for the camouflage it is. Now your work begins. Peel it apart. Attack the knots directly. I'm sorry that we can't help you find a way to forgive yourself, as loving and necessary as that is for you. But I can tell you one person who can.

Max shook her head. But…This? I can't do this to her. No. I can't bring Chloe into this. Guys, it's the whole point. It'll be all for nothing - it's not fair to her to have to listen, when it's about her and about OtherChloe, and she's already sensitive about—

Bullshit. Hector stopped her. Dude. Max. Come on. You need to think about you for once; you matter too. And Chloe's tough. She can take it. She'd do anything for you. And you really do need her help. Full stop. Look, all we can do is point the way. And you're not going to resolve this overnight. But there is a way. I believe you need to open up with Chloe. No secrets. And you need to give yourself room and permission to grieve OtherChloe. And hopefully, find a way in all of that to begin to believe that you deserve your own forgiveness. To believe you deserve your happiness. Not everything real has to be so shiny. It so rarely is.

Max nodded, pulled Sophie back, her head between them both. Leaving the link, "Yeah. I know. You're right. And…I…I broke our promise. I have to fix that, at least. If nothing else."

"Trust her the way she trusts you," whispered Sophie.

Hector added, "And please, love and trust yourself as much as we all do."

Max didn't want to let go. It was a lot at once. But simple - and really obvious when they broke it down like that. Made her hopeful. Like it might be manageable, sorta. Even if it wasn't really going to be as simple as all that. "I…thank you. You know I fucking love you guys so much. You know that, right? I can't even…"

Hector kissed her forehead, backed up, booped her lightly on her nose. "We love you too. Jerkface. Come on, Soph. Let's give her some alone time. Shouldn't force Her Holiness to fly away to a private thinking spot when she's gotta go up on stage in a few."

Sophie held Max's gaze. Crinkled her nose. Turned, walked with Hector.

Max laughed, kicked at him. "Yeah - thanks for that by the way." Louder, "Ass. Your timing for this fucking sucks - you guys know that, right? Jeeze."

Hector, over his shoulder, "Your guard was down. Sorry. But I'm glad we finally made some connections. You're tough too - and you can always make more time for yourself. Come in whenever you're ready. A song will do your spirit some good, Caulfield."

She waved them off lamely as they scooted around the corner, out of sight. She leaned back against the wall.

Let all the tension out of her shoulders.

Well, that took a turn.

So that's it then.

What would it even be like without this on me all the time?

I don't know.

When was the last time it could have felt like that?

13, maybe?

She watched the raindrops, frozen in place. Jogged them backward and forward in time.

Made some extra moments for herself.

A start.

---

Max gave herself an hour before making her way back. Ten minutes for everyone else. She appeared backstage. Head too busy to feel nervousness. Not that nervous mattered to her as much as it used to.

The MC called her number.

She stepped up onto the stage as he leapt off the other side. Floor was painted black. Rough plywood. A few glow-tape marks here and there. Lights were still on, and the crowd, made up of real faces now, put all eyes on her. Background screen was dark.

Just another role to play.

She spoke with the band, changed her mind about the song she picked earlier. Didn't seem appropriate for where her head was. Frivolous. She took her place, center stage behind the microphone stand. Lowered it.

She was taking too long. The members of the audience stared. A few in front shuffled.

Max cleared her throat.

Lights dimmed. One bright spotlight found her. It was like being caught in the beam of a broken lighthouse. Nowhere to go. She glanced up and toward the back. Scanned for Chlo. Hard to see.

The pianist played the opening chords. Light touch. Slow. A little sad.

Max couldn't see her, so she picked a point where she ought to be.

A breath.

Time.

"And I'd give up forever to touch you…"

She kept it simple. Left her voice soft, let the amplifiers do their work to carry it out. Old trick. Only the piano haunting along with her.

Cheesy old song. 'Iris'. But…sometimes, what you feel, what you want to say is cheesy. They're perfect that way. And she felt every word as she sang. Pushed as much of that feeling through the microphone, through her minimal body language as she should. Chloe would know it was all for her.

They'd have three days alone together, after.

Her version of this song felt like the right segue into a profound apology. And overdue conversations. Didn't know where to start, where it would lead, how it would sit. If it would even help. Fought her doubt, hesitation, feelings of guilt for burdening Chloe with even more crap, but, maybe small doses over weeks would be better? She didn't know. See how it went. If it backfired, she could rewind it all away, but she knew she wouldn't. Arguments, conflicts had to stay too. One shot. Them's the rules. Broken too many already. And we only have like three. Four? Three. Three and a half.

At the second chorus, she happened to look down. Outshone by the harsh wash of the spotlight, a sea of glow sticks, rolling in waves from wall to wall in time with her song.

She'd completely forgotten about the audience.

After it was over, she thanked the pianist, gave the clapping audience a gracious bow, and headed offstage again. Waited a few minutes, for the next act to begin, and folded back upstairs. Tried to quietly slip in next to Chloe, without anyone making a fuss.

Her friends knew her. They let her.

Hector gave her a wordless fist-bump. Exploded it. Others, nods of approval.

Ariel said only, "That was sweet."

In her head, Sophie. Everything will be okay, Max. Promise.

Chloe got up, took her hand, sat back down, pulling Max with her. Max ended on her lap, wrapped in a hug. That was all.

No fuss. Perfect.

---

James shivered. His left wrist was exposed; he pulled at his glove. Only his imagination. Or, perhaps, early stages of delirium. Step over step, either way. Frozen. Like her.

Keep going.

Like her.

That night, as she rose…shattering stone-hard ice like fluffy snow, suspended in lines and twisting fields of force. It should have killed her. Or held her, pinned and frozen. The force crossover point was an extreme environment. It killed each of the test animals instantly, but…she shrugged it off like it was nothing. Like he was nothing. What…was she?

He couldn't afford to think about it before. Not until he was all the way back.

Effortlessly, in that blue dress, sneakers. Like she was just a kid, fresh from a party. Smiled at him, even. Before trapping the operations and tactical teams his overseas financiers loaned him. Didn't make any sense, what was happening at the time. Not until his feet went out from under him. It was her. Something in her expression as he collapsed under far too much of his own weight. Had to be five or six G's. She did that. From inside his trap. With no apparent tools of her own.

That was what it felt like to be at-mercy.

But he was still here.

She had control of her path through time and apparently space as well. But…there was more than her own path involved.

He, at least, regained some control of his own now.

Another switchback, nearly missed, poorly marked. He turned to his new path, continued up. The swirl of snow and fog thinned to head-lamp wisps as he climbed. And then, they were gone. Below somewhere. The peaks above visible only in what they blocked, as bright pin-light stars filled the skies beyond. Vast. Painfully cold. Far from empty.

It made more sense, after his release. Freedom to analyze. After he debriefed with Jacob's people, once she let him go. After listening to the audio of her time with Wallace.

James believed her. Every word.

No real choice, given that. Not for him.

Theirs wasn't the winning hand. He failed them already, and wouldn't be missed. If he was honest, they never saw him as equal…only second generation, momentarily useful. And for himself, he was neither naive about the nature of their ties to power, nor entirely comfortable with them. Distance solved whatever minor qualms he might have had. The science, the technical challenges, the resources made available. Those fed his ego. Those were the draw. His purpose. Not that he didn't wish to impress. He did. But he compartmentalized the rest. That was someone else's purpose to contend with.

But…that was before.

---

Ariel stopped to use the restroom on her way out. Caught up with them outside, all bunched up in a dry circle of not-raining. Skyscrapers, city lights reflected roughly off the wet asphalt and concrete. Like looking into an upside down world.

"You're off the hook, Navarro," said Ty. "You were pretty ok back there."

"I know. Goes for my co-conspirator over here too."

"Who? Me?" Ariel looked around. "Well, guess I've always wanted to be the World's Most Co-Okayest at something? Did I say that right?"

Chloe raised her voice. "Alright, everybody. It's been real. You're good peeps. Good pipes on the lot of ya. But it's past someone's bedtime, and the bus is leaving. You can stay if you want, but we're off the grid til Thursday morning. You'll have to hang or find your own way back. Sorry - we've probably earned a break from you people, and you've for sure earned a break from us."

"I hear that," said John, loudly, under his breath.

Max shrugged, Chloe snickered. Let a stream of fat drops hit him.

"Okay, Trace and I are on the bus," said John, wiping his face and linking arms with Tracey.

Ty stepped closer. "I'm in the field tomorrow. Much as I'd like to stay, I'm coming with y'all."

Chloe motioned Parker over. "Come on. I know you've got deadlines and paperwork and shit to do back at A51, dude…"

"True enough," he answered. "We're close."

"We're not that close," Chloe quipped.

Even Parker grinned at that one.

Sophie warmed her hands, asked hopefully, "Is Master Emo traveling with you, or would I be able to kitty-sit again?"

"We were gonna bring him with," said Max, "but what do you think, Chlo?"

"He listens to Soph. Which is more than he's been doing with me this week. Sure. If you want. He's a springy li'l bastard, though. Just keep him out of the tall trees. Never get him back down."

"Yay!" Sophie made an A-frame hand-clap, smiling. "I'll treat him as family."

"Hope he doesn't do the same to you." Chloe hugged Max from behind. "You know, cause he should behave better with you than he does with us. Alright. Hector? Ariel? Bus. On or off?"

Hector took a step back. "Off. Ari promised to show me around the city."

"Oh." Is that what I said? Shit. I kinda did. I don't have a toothbrush, passport, cash, I've got a million things to do, and a warm bed at home and I'm halfway through season 2, and I can't be here 'til Thursday! And I…

Hector read her hesitation. "I'm sorry, Ariel - I didn't mean to put you on the spot. It's cool if you want to get back tonight. Another time, yeah? I have a training course to redesign anyway, and—"

It was a graceful out. On impulse, she changed course. "No, you know what? Not at all. It'll be fun - let's hang out. I know this izayaka. Or…okay, I've looked it up at least. I can do what I need to do working out of this office for a few days. But you know, we should run now, catch reception before they leave for the day? Get care packages and keys to a couple of the corporate suites?"

"Cool. Yeah. I'll get us a car. Maybe some umbrellas too? Since our fearless raindrop warrior princess is leaving us to an uncertain drippy fate."

Chloe scratched her eyebrow with her middle finger. Coughed.

Max gave a wave. "Bye guys. Have fun. Be safe."

Ari must have blinked again. They were all there, and then they weren't. Fresh rain slammed down inside the circle, erasing it.

Hector had his phone out already, searching for a car service.

---

Hector raised his glass. "To the friendshipping power of ponies."

Ari leaned unsteadily on the bar with her elbow. "Yeah! Ponies that don't go with the herd…flock? Do horsies flock? Whatever, that's twice we've gone our own way - twice now. Ponies!"

They both slammed shots back. A little buzzed.

She asked the bartender for another round; something to compliment the large bottles of Sapporo and the food to come.

Hector snapped apart his chopsticks with a redundant 'snap'. "Sorry. You were saying?"

She slouched. "Right. Yeah. Like. I don't think I could do this anywhere else. And not just be a useless cog, I mean. I just feel like, we've done something real for people, you know? I mean really real. The team working on this is so good - like I hope you guys realize how good everybody is. You know? I love everybody so much."

Hector corrected her. "There's no 'you guys' though - there's only 'all of us' - we're it."

"Yeah. I love that. But still. I hope you guys know all the same. How dedicated everybody is. It's like, almost 2,400 whole people so far we've gotten. Not counting Max's saves. We found them. And then, it's like the local cops go in and they rescue them, and…and then like over a thousand other people have been arrested so far, and it's all good. It's good. Right? We're helping. So much…many…so many more to go. It's a strong start."

Hector pulled hair out of his face. It fell back. "It is. Forget the numbers though - for each individual person, it's like they're getting their entire life back. And whole families, groups of friends, get their people back. Each of them is a hundred others. It's personal."

She sipped at her beer. Chin on her hand. "Very personal."

Inside the pub, it was all warm glow and polished maple walls. Toasty. Broken by a blast of cold air as an older couple pushed in through the door from outside. The bartender placed the couple a few seats down from them.

Hector reached for the edamame. "Hey, Ari, can I ask you what may be a personal question?"

"Shoot."

"You seem like have a lot of yourself invested in this. In a way that makes it feel like more than just caring in general. It does seem personal for you. May I ask? And 'no' is a perfectly acceptable answer if you're not comfortable answering."

Ari sat sideways on the stool. Elbow on the bar, chin in her other hand. "Yeah. I mean, it is. It's…ancient history. Not that ancient, but I'm okay to talk about it."

Hector gave her space to think, talk. A table by the door erupted into cheers and raised glasses. Hanging red paper lanterns outside the front window blew around in the wind.

She continued, "So you've probably used some super-secret powers of observation to figure out for yourself that I'm probably Asian?"

"We leave all that to the supercomputer in the basement," he teased.

She rolled her eyes. "Well, I was born not too far from here. Chiba. It was me, mom and dad, and my brother, Toshi. I don't remember much; I was just a li'l radish, but…I remember everyone was happy. Formative years, right?"

He sipped.

"But when I was maybe four, I think four, the company my dad worked for moved us all to LA. Felt like he headed up something important. Total change of everything. Guess that was cool for a couple of years, but something happened when I was in second grade, and I don't know if he got laid off or fired. I don't know the full story - but in retrospect, I think maybe he had some tie to criminal activity and got caught by the company, or, I don't know. It was weird. Anyway, after, it was like something changed in him. He lost part of himself, I think. Or maybe a different side of him had to come out to deal."

The bartender refreshed their shots; clear liquid from a tall white bottle. Ari thanked him.

"You stayed in LA though? After?"

She faced front, poked at an edamame bean. "Yeah. I think we were supposed to come back to Japan, but there wasn't much money, and he rolled the dice trying to find new work before papers and things expired… Mom stayed at home. Neither of my parents made much effort to learn English, so it was hard for them. I think it also hurt his pride that his kids had to play interpreter…on top of everything else. But…he'd be fine one minute, and the next it was like he'd just get so angry. Never knew what."

Hector, sympathetic, "Can't have been easy for any of you."

"No. But I remember, my brother and I were watching TV one night. Mom and dad were arguing in the kitchen. We moved a couple of times by then, so we were in this kinda sketchy apartment. Didn't seem that way at the time, but I remember a lot of huge spiders, and it wasn't in a good part of town. Anyway, there we were, with nowhere else in the apartment to go where we couldn't hear them. They'd never fought before. At least, not in front of us. So we kept our eyes glued to the TV like it would all go away or something. Pretending to watch. Cop show, I think. But they kept at it. At one point, he knocked her down, was on top, choking her. We were frozen. Listening to her cry out. Tosh and I, we couldn't even look at each other. Eyes front. I remember shaking. I wanted more than anything to make my dad stop, call the police, kick him - something. But…neither of us could move. I didn't know if he'd stop. That was…the first time.

"And then, that was what normal was for us. He'd take turns. With mom and me. He never touched Toshi - which I think fucked my brother up more. We were all on eggshells, minefield, pick your metaphor. All the time. In hindsight, it might have been drugs too, but…I don't know. I don't know what he was into, honestly. If mom knew, she's never said. But I'd hear him leave late at night, you know. It was like living with that constant fear of setting him off. He was careful not to leave marks where people could see, but—"

Hector found himself torn between sympathy and anger. "Jesus Christ, dude. That sucks. You were a defenseless little kid. Nobody deserves that shit."

Ari shrugged, "People have had it a lot worse. It's just, this is the part I keep coming back to - you asked why the work is so important to me, so kinda diving in. But when it was my turn, when he chose me, I'd scream and cry - I mean, it hurt, a lot, but it was also the whole thing. Fear and anger and being trapped. I couldn't help mom, couldn't do anything. I was so small. So, instead of fighting back, I'd always scream a little more than I really felt. A little louder. A little longer. Hoping, just maybe, that someone outside the apartment would hear. That someone would come in, do something to make it stop. Save us, I guess. Save him? I didn't understand, and I wanted someone to bring my dad back.

"I didn't want to be invisible. Silent. Not like mom."

"I'm sorry." He ran his hand through his hair. "Damn. I'm guessing no one ever—"

"Nope. Not one. I'd see their looks around the apartment complex later. Somewhere between sympathy and looking away. Know they heard, but… Well, that's not entirely true. There was one. One. At school. A teacher saw a few…I was on the monkey bars, and the bottom of my shirt pulled up. She saw some bruises on my lower back. Started asking questions. I got scared, didn't say anything, but I knew she must have, cause he ripped into me again when I got home that day. I really wished she hadn't."

Ari shook her head. Like waking herself up. "Wow. Yeah. Sorry, Hector. Trip to downer street here. Anyway, if there's a nugget of 'why' in me, that's it. I won't ever look away when someone cries out for help. I can't. And I can't stop halfway. That's why I feel it like that. That was me. Us."

"God, Ariel. How long did that go on?"

"I think I was ten? A few years. My grandpa, mom's dad, came over to the US for a visit. And then…dad wasn't around anymore. Mom moved us, divorced, remarried a year later. American. Stepdad. Tetsu. Ted. He passed away a couple of years ago, but you know, he was kind to mom. Never raised a hand. We didn't always get along, but Tosh and I both respected him for the way he treated her, you know? He gave us some sense of healthy through the rest of our school years. I'll always love him for the way he was with all of us.

"Anyway, after grad Toshi moved back here to Japan for school. And I stayed in the US, went Navy. Intelligence. Got my degree while I was in, naturalized, went OCS, traveled the world for a few more, and then back out to the real world. Couple of years contracting after, and…well, you know the rest."

"Yeah. I didn't know. Makes sense. Sorry. Didn't mean to—"

She sat up. "It's okay. It was on my mind anyway. I'm near 'home' again for the first time in a long time. And I don't feel any of it. It's weird. Like it was another life. A 'could have been'. If we'd stayed. Like I can't always pass for American, but I don't exactly feel Japanese either. Another 'other' I guess. And I'm jealous and a little ashamed that Chloe seems to know more about the alt-culture of my hometown than I do…

"So - that's me. Just another fucked up, single, basic-ass straight girl in the world, probably in platonic love with Max and Chloe." She laughed.

Hector joined her, reached like he was going to take her glass. "Think you've had enough sake. Least 'til the kitchen gets us the rest of our food."

"You know what I mean." She smiled. Looked away.

"I do."

She sat up straighter. Crossed her knees. "Alright, Mr. Navarro. Your turn. You're all OG Fan Club — what's your story?"

---

Ariel wasn't sure why she shared all of that with him. Felt safe, maybe. But she was also curious. Wasn't entirely sure why she was suddenly included, but she was getting to see a different side of the people she worked for. Human after all.

And as much as she ate earlier, the scents from the kitchen were making her hungry again. Buzz was wearing off too. It's why she liked sake the best. Friendly, warm little happy waves of buzziness.

Hector turned toward her on his stool. Took a swig. "I had a different childhood. Mexico City. Was just a scrawny kid when my talent showed up to hit me in the face with a giant 'fuck you' stick. Like somebody flipped a chaos-switch. Out of nowhere, just, bang. Went into an uncontrolled panic. Thought for sure that if I wasn't going crazy, that something inside my brain was badly broken. Like the whole world was suddenly stuck on repeat. Double vision, double everything, 5 seconds apart. Parents were professionals, pretty well off. But they didn't have any idea what the hell was going on, or how to help me. I was a freaked out mess. So there we were, heading to the hospital, cause what the fuck else are they gonna do, right? And this cop, he pulls us over. My dad's telling him how they're taking me to the hospital and it's an emergency, and can he help get us there, right? I'd never seen him so afraid. Mom either. I was in a blind panic already, and seeing my parents fearful like that didn't help at all."

Ari covered her mouth. "Oh my god. Can't even imagine how scary that must have been."

"Yeah, well, dude was a real cop and all, but he already knew. Described my symptoms in detail - the dual streams and everything. He had our full attention with that. And there on the side of the road, he gave us the speech. If we got into any system anywhere, they'd come for me. He made them sound bad. Boogeymen. Didn't have much time, pulled over like that, but it's like he knew what buttons to push with my parents. Papa turned around, drove right back home. Guy said they'd be in touch. A few days of pure hell later, we had a visitor. Transport. Wanted to take me away, for everyone's safety. Said they could teach me to control it, maybe. And we'd be apart for a while, but I'd be free."

"How'd that go? I mean, obviously…"

"Awesome." Hector rolled his eyes. "It was a few years living out of a tiny camper with a hygiene-challenged dude who made Yoda look super-useful. Stupid green oven mitt. That's the…joke. He wasn't a pleasant man, or very helpful. In the end, after all that, he said I was too extreme. Couldn't help me to control it, but he, uh, by coming to that conclusion, he made me understand I'd have to learn to live with it. That was something. Sucked. But he'd also taught me something about how to take care of myself. Cause it's not like he was doing much of it.

"Handed me off to a safe-house in Guadalajara. They finished my education, taught me weapons, self-defense, others-offense. People came and went. We had, you know, one busted black and white TV. Not a lot of affection to go around either. Functional commune. Food was decent. Few years later, they shipped me off to Quebec. Paired me up with Sophie. At first, it was to see if maybe she could help me. But we got along okay. Hard not to with her, right? Irritating. And then, like that, we were a team. Kept on the move. She kept some of the self-proclaimed higher ups safely in touch with each other, kept me balanced for the most part, and my only job was to hang out and keep her safe. Or them safe if she was compromised."

"Good job." Ari reached for a squid-chip.

He laughed, "Yeah - no. Total fail. We were both murdered in 2013 in a hotel room. Dumped beside a bed."

"Shut up. Oh. Oh my god - right. Sorry - stupid sometimes. Our fearless leaders?"

"Yep. And then there was the second fail. They took Soph, and I was supposed to protect the rest of them by, well, hitting her with a big lead 'delete' button."

Ari figured where this was going. "You couldn't do it."

He leaned forward onto the bar. "Hell no. Faked the motions, but nah. Wasn't an option. Loved her. Never happen."

Ari touched his arm. "I don't see that as a fail."

He smiled. "I don't either. They did, but I didn't care. Kept looking for her."

"Our heroes again? Intervention?"

"Sort of. Max financed the rescue, but it was John, Ty, and an assortment of Steves…"

"Interesting."

"Simple. Meanwhile, Max was off saving Vegas from a nuclear goddamn bomb. Crazy start-up week."

The bartender interrupted to drop off a couple of plates from the kitchen. Hamachi, toro, and some fried chicken on fresh lettuce.

"And now you're, what, just bummin' around, giving out life-advice and occasionally committing random acts of training or espionage?" She stole a piece of nigiri from his plate.

"Gotta earn my keep." He scowled. Stole one of her fried chicken bits. "Gotten to know my family again this way. And there are worse jobs than saving the world with a dope team, protected by a couple of friendly, over-powered superheroes, you know?"

"Who can also sing." She lifted her beer.

"True dat." He gave her the head nod. "Buy me another drink."

She motioned for the bartender again. Ordered. "So…you and Sophie? Ever…?"

"No. No. It's never been like that between us. We love each other, in ways I'm not sure most people can access, but it's never been a romantic thing. I mean, I had feelings for her, cause you've met her. But," he laughed, "there's no…mechanism for secrets between a telepath and an empath…"

She winced. "Oh. Shit. That must have been awkward."

"No. Opposite. It was impossible not to understand each other at like the atomic level. We reached an equilibrium between us almost immediately. What we have now is, I think, unique in all the world, and very special. But it's it's own thing, and it's not that."

"Yeah…Oh, wow." She pointed. The hanging lamps outside were nearly sideways. It was raining hard, wind howling, whistling.

Hector sipped his beer. "Glad we're in here. You and your brother, still close?"

Ari touched a piece of toro to her soy dish. "No. We were in different worlds after leaving home. Travel and stuff. Lost touch mostly. Mom doesn't hear from him often either. I don't know. He found a home here after school. In Japan. I think he very much wanted to belong. Have a place. Maybe feel Japanese again. I don't know. So, no. I don't even know for sure where he is."

After a moment, "You know, we have tools for that kind of thing. Finding people."

"Yeah, but that's for personal use and…I know, I could. But as much as there's a part of me that misses him so much, there's another that tries to respect his decision to cut himself off from us. I love my brother. I try not to take it personally. I don't think he'd mean it that way. And all he has to do is call mom if he wants to talk."

"Sorry."

"No, it's okay. Is what it is. No sob stories. Just crap that happens to us, you know? Gotta let people be what they are, and hang out or move on. Speaking of, once we're done here, if you're up for it, there's an all-night arcade around the corner. Blinky lights? Video games? Hit things with mallets? More beer, and maybe some ice cream before we call it a night?"

"Yeah. Cool. Sounds like a plan." He raised his beer.

She clinked it.

---

James kicked an accumulation of dangerous ice from his boot.

The air, thin now, held even less warmth. Every small movement was an effort, every muscle in him cried out for rest. For sleep. It would be so easy to lie down. Just for a minute. But if he stopped, he knew he'd die on the trail. Short of his goal. Short of a place almost forgotten, assuming it still existed at all. The site couldn't be much farther. The sky had to run out of rock to climb eventually.

He reached a gloved hand into his parka. Pulled out a foil pack, still warm from his body. High-energy bar. Vegan. Hypocrite. He tore at the package with his teeth, chattered his way through the first bites, still climbing. A mix of carved and stone steps now. The path was too steep for anything less structured.

He was surprised by her offer. To Wallace. Some families might take her up on it. Hard to predict. Wasn't sure how any defections would play with the majority. They'd test her promise of protection.

Most wouldn't consider it though - not in his estimation. They still had that illusion of protection afforded to those traveling in a school or a herd. He'd been singled out once already. Knew how that felt.

Didn't want to be anywhere near them when a fight finally broke out.

She spared his life once already.

Better to be away, on his own. For himself. For everyone.

Before he left, he tied up loose ends. Finalized the legal instructions. Signed it all away. Divested. Everything. Property. Patents. Companies. His stakes, his funds. Assigned all that could be transferred to her. To them. She earned it. He had more in common with them than with the others anyway. At least, as he was in the beginning. And maybe now, at whatever end, or new beginning, this might be.

His mind chewed through thoughts roughly.

He had honest respect for Caulfield. And Price.

And he wouldn't need 'stuff' where he was headed.

Out of the fight.

She spared his life.

Gave him room.

Gave him this chance.

A choice.

Somewhere in the darkness above, the temple. Half-remembered from an old National Geographic he'd discovered and read, fascinated, as a child. There was little more to be found in his hurried research. The vintage issue, online. The rough map it contained. A few locals in a nearby village pointed him to the trailhead. Wished for him to carry their messages, deliver them once he passed over. Prayers, for those they'd lost.

That wasn't his ideal destination, but he took their letters, flags.

Those strange symbols carved into the rock inside the structure. He flashed to those pages again in his trance state, during his captivity. The monks, old photographs from the article… A new calling maybe. If he could find them, convince them. Or their descendants, most probably. Perhaps they could help him find that peace again. The place in himself where he no longer existed.

And if they were no longer there, he knew he wouldn't make it back down.

Perhaps he'd find it for himself after all.

He doubted anyone would ask to carry a message up for him.

---

Max woke up early to get a start on caffeine and breakfast. They were only gonna be on a few hours of sleep. She lounged on the second-floor balcony, working on a lazy crossword, waiting. Armored against the mild chill with a dark, fuzzy robe and bunny-ear slippers. Her knees crossed, foot bouncing, one oversized bun flipped against the bottom of her heel.

Two of their suns were out already, warming the morning. Flying critter-calls carried over the waves.

They started calling them seagulls, even if they weren't. More comfortable mouthful than those bird-like creatures. The way their greys blended with the brief morning sky, it was easy to miss the extra wings. And with similar size, and bird-adjacent behaviors, it was all close enough to keep the illusion. Friendly and completely fearless. But they went out of their way to make themselves heard every time one of the suns popped over the horizon.

She thought absently about timing. For a chat with Chloe.

Heard some rustling inside. "Hey, love. Out here."

Chloe slid open the screen, leaned her shoulder against the jam, squinty, rubbed an eye. Max's blue toothbrush stuck out of her mouth. She wore a tank top, with oversized track pants tied up around her waist. Her hair was a cute mess. "Hey. I was led to believe there would be bacon? And coffee?"

Max pointed. "Coffee's cooking. Bacon's on a plate under the paper towels. On my favorite trivet."

Chloe, puzzled, "You have a favorite trivet?"

Max, equally puzzled, "Wait - you don't? Who are you? Oh! Hey! What's a four-letter word for cat?"

Chloe closed the screen, called back over her shoulder, "The one they want is probably lion."

"Duh. That was killin' me. Thanks!"

Max continued while Chloe clattered around in the kitchen.

Their vacation pre-fab was pre-fab, but also pretty fab. Two well-designed floors of wood slats, steel, and glass, perched naturally on a rolling green hill near a beautiful beach. Two bedrooms, two baths, a gorgeous kitchen, open ceilings, loft, skylights. Power. Water. Comfy furniture. Books. Everything they could ever need.

Chloe returned after a few minutes, holding two plates above Max's eye-level. Eyebrows raised like it was a dare. "Waffles or pancakes?"

"That was quick." Max considered, compromised. "Halfsies?"

Chloe set the plates down on the coffee table. Both were the same. Waffles and pancakes, with a small cup of fruit and bacon on the side. "Am I super-duper-awesome, or what?"

"Has that ever been a real question?" Max kicked her with a bunny-foot. Smiled.

Chloe, gave a shrug, eyes to the sky. "No. Not really." Leaned down, brushed a wisp of hair behind Max's ear with her finger, gave a quick kiss. "Go ahead. Start. Be right back."

Hungry, Max dove in.

Chloe came back with fresh coffee cups, closed the screen with her foot, hopping to her seat. "Hey - can we go on an adventure today?"

Max, between bites, "Thanks - you rule. And lemmie check my calendar…what calendar? I'm all yours. See something you wanna explore?"

While they'd only wandered across a fraction of their small world directly, Chloe had an army of tiny satellites in orbit.

"Yes, but there's also a little eroded crater-island in the southern hemisphere that looks like a nice afternoon hike? It's got a little forest, some fields, some nice rocky cliffs?"

"Perv. And sounds fun. In. Sneaker hike or boot hike?"

"Sneakers. Def. But we should bring water, snacks prolly. Lunch maybe? Up to you on your camera, but…never know."

"I'll bring it along. I mean, I could just kinda point it randomly in any direction and capture something rad that nobody's ever seen before, right?" She smeared some butter into waffle-crannies. "I love our little planet."

"And it loves you too, Max. Now eat, you weirdo."

---

Chloe slid off the mound of sand left behind after the bubble's collapse. Her feet sank with each new step. The sand they picked up from their beach was lighter than the local variety.

She set the cooler to float in an enclosed tide-pool. Hopefully, keep it from warming up too quickly. They could always pop back to get food from the fridge, or Chinese from Paris, or whatever, but that would break the illusion of a day out. This was more fun. Max was already halfway to the top of the shallow dune, where it met the mossy green field. Chloe jogged after her.

They both changed into jeans and sneakers before heading out, but Max went into the day with another Ghibli t-shirt she picked up in Tokyo. Catbus. Tied a grey hoodie around her waist, messenger bag over her shoulder and she was set. Chloe threw on an old black Smiths t-shirt and red flannel she left in the dryer last time they were here. Comfy. Versatile.

Max waited at the top. "Where to, Cap'?"

Chloe pointed, "Like to try to go up along that ridge. Should be some killer views. And then back down the inside of the rim, where it smoothes out, come back through the forest? Should get us here for our sammiches and stuff in a couple hours?

"Cool." Max put her hands on her hips, stood tall. "I claim this island in the name of Spongebob, BlindBeard, and the Pirate Twins of Arcadia Bay…you are hereby and henceforth known as Land Island."

"I'm not even gonna say it," Chloe looked away.

"What? You're just mad cause you didn't think to name it first."

"Whatever. Thataway." Chloe smacked her butt, scooted her.

Max squinted. "I know that's farther away than it looks - how steep a climb?"

"It's exactly as far as it is. Approximately. And it's kindof a wash. Things get taller in low grav. But we're lighter; it's all bueno."

"Not complaining. Just curious."

They set off.

The sandy beach gradually disappeared behind them as they crested the first rise. The field they walked through was a mix of probably five or six different kinds of plants. The familiar low mossy squish, multiplied by a few variations with different colors, growth patterns. Stalky pod thingies sprouted up every so often, leaning conspicuously toward Max and Chloe as they passed.

Nothing threatening. Just…over friendly.

As they crested the ridge an hour later, the shape of the island became more apparent. Like an ancient meteor crater that collapsed on one side, eroded into the sea. What was left above water was a tall, wide crescent, almost half-circle with the basin, with a small islet amidst the far waves marking all that remained of the other rim.

Max took a few shots along the way, and a few more up top, out over the bay where they first landed.

Chloe was more interested in the rock formations down the other side. The composition of the planet was different from Earth, which, coupled with the reduced gravity, led to some interesting erosive shock-columns standing outside the rim.

A small green leafy something they thought was a plant came over to investigate them as they snacked at the top. It sat near them, didn't move again while they were there. Stayed when they left.

As they hiked down along the inside of the crater, they sang songs that wouldn't exist for another fifty years. Sadly realizing that some may never come to exist at all. Beyond Chloe's library, anyway. They were changing a lot in the world. And songs were as much a product of their times as they were of the people who wrote them. Actions rippled. And there was a good chance that some parents might not meet at the same time, in the same way, or at all. Some of the people who were there in the first loop wouldn't come to exist in the second. Others who never lived the first time would get a chance. Some go on to make new music. Or other music. Or not.

A sobering reminder that they were shuffling the deck as much as they were trying to change the rules of the game.

They passed through the forest quietly. Each tiny opening in the canopy above split light into three beams of different colors. One for each sun. Multiplied by the millions. Almost magical.

And a tight but diverse ecosystem. Tall stalks with open bulbs rose seventy feet overhead. They shed horizontal mini-copies of themselves along the trunks, like spiraling palm trees that read more from a distance as weedy pines. Smaller vines, shrubs and interconnecting growths helped stabilize them. Small, fuzzy six-leggies gathered to sip from pools below some of the most massive trees. And smaller critters and microscopics handled waste removal and breakdown.

Chloe did some quick scans, analysis. Like everywhere else she'd sampled on Steve, this was a cooperative ecosystem, rather than a competitive one. The smaller animals dispersed seeds and tended ground, and in return were fed by nutrient pools produced by the tallest stalks. The more modest plants contributed to the stability of the larger ones, provided homes and building materials for the critters, and in turn, took their part in the nutrient sharing through direct connections. The tallest among them gathered sunshine, converting it to atmosphere, and food for themselves, which they shared with others that helped them reach such heights.

A closed symbiotic loop. Unclear how much of that was natural in the original habitat, and how much was designed into its replacement by OtherChloe. But as a consequence, little on the ground was toxic, and there was almost no predation. Most of that was reserved for the lower reaches of the seas, where resources were more scarce.

She filed away a few notes.

---

Max spread the blanket out over the green smush of the field, throwing distance from the water. Yawned.

Chloe unpacked the cooler. "Tired already?"

Max pulled out a couple of water bottles. "Still. And, good tired. Being outside is nice. No phones, no texts, no social media notifications…" Might be good a time as any.

Chloe laughed. "When do you ever get social media notifications?"

"Hey! Well, I mean. Other people around us at home do, I guess. They make noises." Max stuck out her tongue. "You know what I mean."

"Yeah… It's nice being quiet with you. Hmm." Chloe stretched. "It's almost like vacations were meant to be enjoyed or something."

Max reached for one of the wrapped packages. "Pretty sure these sandwiches were too. Nom."

They sat side by side, munching on a well-deserved lunch. The air carried the scents of freshness and plants and sea. The ocean sparkled like waves of diamonds.

Max watched Chloe out of the corner of her eye. Her hair caught the breeze. Eyes were on the horizon. Probably thinking Chloe thoughts.

Bite the bullet.

Max finished half her sandwich. Held off on the rest. Broke their silence. "Chlo. Is it a good time to talk?"

Chloe visibly tensed. Set her bottle down. "Ah. Did…uh…Sophie say something?"

Max thought her phrasing was odd. "Yeah. You know Soph."

Chloe looked off to the horizon. "Yeah." After a minute, "How much did she tell you?"

Max put it together. Oh. "Nothing?"

"Okay, um. I'll just blurt it. I've been keeping it to myself for a while, I guess, hoping I'd get a better handle on things. But I'm not. Everybody's got their shit to deal with I've been so afraid of letting everybody down. You down, especially…"

Max met her eyes. "Never."

Chloe shrugged. "Obviously, I've tangled myself up in the whole post-S4 thing and there was my alien freakout and all that."

"I know, hon. And I'm here as often as you need an ear. Or if there's anything else you need. Whatever. You know it's okay. Shit's not normal for anyone. And there's no right or wrong way to navigate."

"That's not it though." She slumped. "I mean, it is. It's not helping things."

Max, concerned, "What is it?"

Chloe crossed her legs, slouched forward, elbows on her knees. After a delay, "This is gonna sound weird, but - I don't know what I'm doing, Max. Not really. I don't even think I know who I am for sure."

"What do you mean?"

"I'm…having trouble. I don't mean to be all cry-for-helpy or looking for sympathy or playing drama shit - you know? It's just that - I have an uncomfortably precise sense of self-awareness since the upgrades - and…truth is, sometimes I feel like maybe it should have been her here. Not just with you, but saving all of them. And other times, I feel like maybe it already is. And that bothers me too."

Max reached out. "Chloe." No, baby.

"No listen, I'm trying to keep it together. And I mostly do. Like I go through these long periods where I don't even question it. I just go, and it's fine. But then there are other times, where it's harder. Like now. And the upgrades, you know they help me be faster, stronger, give me access to more info, get me more places outside my head, but that's part of the problem too. I can logic the hell out of everything, but I still feel what I feel, and the upgrade layer doesn't play there. Not really. And like even all this wetware and the bots and the bio and synthetic reconstructions themselves - even moving shit with my mind - it's me, but not mine, you know? I didn't make any of this. Didn't think it up. And…I didn't do anything to earn it."

"Chlo…it was an incredible gift. A huge head start. We didn't build any of the roads or plant our own coffee beans…but we use them. It's all just shared infrastructure?"

"Yeah, but fuck, dude. This is way more than that - and legit - it scares the hell out of me sometimes. For reals. Trust me - you don't know what it's like to wake up and hear your brain talking to itself in a language you barely understand. I don't know what to do with that. And when I'm outside my head, distributed, sometimes I almost think I'm like someone else, out in those moments where I can get so lost in it. It's so easy to get lost, or disconnected, dissociated, maybe? And it's so goddamn tempting to go with it. Let time stand still forever."

"Been there."

"I'm sure. But for me, that's when I start to think that I might go that final step. To try to keep up. Do my part. Keep my head above water. Be more? But, it's like I don't know what's left of me if I do that? You know? Are emotions artificial too at that point? Like, I'd rather die than lose most of what I feel - especially for you. Can't. Like, and if I do make that leap - where do I end and the machine begins? And is it me deciding to do it, since I'm part way there already? Or is it bits of her pushing from inside? And if the end is all synthetic, and if that's her, right? And that's what she is? And if I become that, then is that maybe the right thing to do? Step aside? Cause that's gonna be her now. Isn't it? And she's way more qualified for this shit anyway. And maybe that's good. Stakes this high? And when I'm feeling like this, I sometimes think…I think you deserve a better partner." Chloe's voice broke. "I'm sorry, I…"

Max felt Chloe's hurt in her own heart. She pulled back on her agenda to share. She needs all the support right now. I'm not gonna throw more crap on her plate. Wrong time. Wrong topics that will probably make everything worse. We'll come back to it, but this has to be about her today. "Sweetie…"

"I know, Max. I don't know how to do this. I can't always feel the line. Where I end, where it starts. There's the core, and access to outside stuff that's one kind of thing - communications and information, and that's great, but when it comes to myself, this 'me' isn't even me anymore. Tech aside, my biology is changed, and I don't know if that's part of it too. The physical upgrades are great, but I wonder sometimes if I made a mistake playing with nerve bandwidth and changing my brain around and...it's fuckin' great that I can doubt myself at the speed of light instead of the speed of sound now, but…no. It isn't."

Max held Chloe's hand. Listened.

"And if I keep tinkering, will I even know the difference if I - the 'me' looking out through these synthetic eyes - stop existing? Can consciousness even carry over to all new hardware? Can it?"

Max, curious, "How many atoms change in a person over a normal lifetime? Is anyone made of exactly the same stuff they started out with? Is it the specific atoms themselves, the materials, that make us 'us', or is it the pattern? Just asking. For a friend…"

Chloe shrugged. Squeezed Max's hand, acknowledging her attempt. "Is that what it's like? Am I worried about nothing here? That's what I want. But, what if…am I fucking up and replacing some essential parts of me, a piece at a time until there's nothing of the real me left? Who was she when she sent this back? What would I be then? Me? Or the machine who slowly killed me, and only thinks she's me?"

Max flinched.

Chloe took Max's hand in both of hers. "Max - I'm sorry I'm sorry - I swear to fucking god I didn't mean it like that."

"I know you didn't." Max turned the thought aside. Back to Chloe. "No one is asking you to do anything, baby. You're the one in control. Only you."

"Am I? I'm not so sure. It's like I've been given these amazing gifts, if involuntarily - like some artificial juiced-up Frankenstein mashup of telekinesis and god-tech. But now I have this amazing life, with you, and it's everything to me, and there are these impossible dangers and responsibilities… And in the times when I'm not terrified out of my mind, I don't always feel connected to any of it. Like I know it's real and all. But it's almost like I'm a kid, sitting in the back seat again. Looking out through my eyes while someone else drives. Except they're not even really my eyes anymore, are they? And sometimes I think maybe that would be okay. Go to sleep. Just let her, or it, or whatever, drive. I know how chickenshit that all sounds, but I know I didn't earn any of this. I don't know if I deserve any of this. And even if everything else is fine, I don't know if I can live up to this. Like you know I've always wanted to be some kind of badass, which was stupid, ridiculous posturing, but now that I really can, I don't feel it, cause I know it's not me doing it. It's her. And swear, I'm not ungrateful - I love you - and what we're doing - but this is a redo, and I'm not her and, sometimes it's too much and…I don't know if I can hang with this."

Max pushed their food aside, scooted over to put her arms around Chloe. Kissed her on her cheek. Brows knit. "First, I'm glad we're talking. Even if I don't have answers, love. But I'm here. And I love you. You. And maybe that's your thing to carry. Keep moving forward despite your fears. Doubts. I think everyone has them. I know I do. But you try to do the very best you can, because it matters, and we really can try to help. But that's all it is - that's all anyone can ask. You know? That we try?"

"No, I know." Chloe's head hung down. "I get super fucking overwhelmed sometimes. I'm such a wimp. But there's so much noise. And I can't show it. Not when so many people are looking to us…and then, the part of me that knows I could keep up if I changed myself just a little bit more - traded some new part of the real me for something better, it's almost addictive - but I don't know if I trust that part of me that's saying that's good anymore. I honestly don't know."

Max rubbed her back. "You're not alone, Chlo. I mean, I'm no stranger to being pulled in multiple directions, unsure of who I am. Who I want to be. You were there. I realize it's gotta be very different for you. Um. I'm gonna take a swing at this anyway. Because, I learned a sports metaphor, and that was it, and I do relate to some of this. I can also be full of shit. So, you know. Filter. Mileage."

Chloe nodded. Leaned her head against Max.

"Reality is that you ARE Chloe Price. And so is she. That's my fault. When I jumped back, I split the universe in two. And that moment, that instant where the split happened is the exact point where you two diverged. Along with our worlds, and everything else. You had the same beginning though. And your life, your identity, your existence, was shared, not just similar - it was the same one. And in the other timeline, it's also two and a half years later, right now, just like here. Future is still out that way somewhere for both our universes. That one's gonna run the way it did, and we're charting this one. And we got none of this, right here, going on over there. You have her memories. You know. We were in a crappy apartment, barely keeping our shit together. But we had each other. 'Member? We were leaning into each other so hard for support that it was the only thing keeping either of us from faceplanting."

Chloe smirked. "Yeah. So, what, right now, you're over there with her too?"

"Yeah. The past me. Jumped, remember. But to them, it's now too, so yes.

"You're the genius. Think about it. You're obviously not the same person now. You got some serious gifts very early on. She's got none of that right now and has all of her own struggles to deal with. And that's gonna be true for a while. She won't even think about any of this for centuries. Where will YOU be centuries from now? In your timeline? Where will we be? That's up to us. I don't know much. But I know that OtherChloe - and…Nuria - gave you a tremendous head-start. They didn't do it to subvert you. They did it to give you an edge. A fucking sharp one. And it's all up to you, what you wanna swing it at. And if you don't want to, that's okay too."

Chloe stared at her shoes.

"In a fraction of the time it took OtherChloe to deal with our shit, to think up, evolve, and finally send you this…gift - this starter kit - you're gonna do so much more with it. That's gonna be all you. And I'm sorry. You've taken on this role, and you're so good at it, that I sometimes forget how new you are to all of this. You, you, I mean. I forget that only a few years ago, high school was a real thing for you. You've got her memories, but you've been so fantastic at dealing with all of this, and owning it and making your own way.

"But I have to remind myself - and maybe you, too - that you're still just a baby right now, Chlo. You're in this nest figuring out where you end and how things work, and like what are these things on your back, and why is there all this straw… But…baby…those are wings - and we can fly. And I don't only mean that like a metaphor. I mean we can actually fucking fly. And don't believe for a second that I don't have trouble wrapping my brain around that, even after all this time."

Chloe, head still down, gave her a sideways look. Shook her head with a small laugh.

"So no. You're not OtherChloe. You're not. You started out as the same person though. You did. The core Chloe is still you. If you switched universes with her at the moment I crashed in, you would have been her. 100%. Time and events shaped you different, and will take you different places, but this branch, this set of starting circumstances - and all of time ahead - this is yours. No one else's. You're the driver in there. Even choosing not to drive is your decision. And it's okay."

Max thought back to her conversation with Sophie and Hector. Repeating patterns... It gave her a direction.

"Chloe, this is who you are. Even if you're both the real you. I don't know. Maybe, it's like there's only one core Chloe Price - and all the rest is just…wave interference, spread across universes. You're both expressions of the same underlying awesome, beautiful, badass truth."

Chloe looked up. Turned to Max. "You did not just respond to my total-flame-out existential crisis with a quantum hand-wave."

"Uh, maybe I kinda did? When you put it like that? Sorry. I suck."

"No. No - I'm kindof impressed, actually. It helps. You know - and you suck." Chloe cracked a smile.

"You suck." Max gave her a playful shove. "I don't know Chlo. I get pulled around sometimes too. Pretty hard. But I always know I'm the person I want to be when I'm with you."

"Aww. Snarf?" Chloe squinted, teared up.

"It's not easy being green. I get it. I don't know if it's ever been easy for anyone to be anything. But Chlo, I hope you know - more than anything - that one thing you're not, not ever ever ever, is alone."

"I do. And…sorry…for ruining our adventure," Chloe moped.

"Shut up. You know that's not true. You're an adventure. " Max pulled her closer. Wrapped her arms tight. "Sorry, I'm not much help. But I'm here. And I'm thankful you said something."

"Meh. You had to pull it out of me. Didn't seem like there was ever a good time. Sophie's been trying to listen, but…I think she has trouble with me sometimes. Understanding the more beep-boop parts, you know? She's been after me to share with you."

"She's usually right. That one. We're a team, Chlo. I think it's always gonna be a process, for reals. All of this. But we got each other. Just like the versions of us propping each other up in T-0 about right now - I don't know that there's ever been a way to do this, other than together."

Chloe rocked back. "Thanks. For not thinking I'm lame or whatever."

"Now you're being stupid." Max pushed her. Pulled her back, "You're my hero."

Chloe scooted. Leaned her head on Max's shoulder. "And you know, if there's every anything you ever want or need to talk about, I'm here for you too. You don't always have to go running off. I'm not blind. I can listen."

Max leaned too. "Yeah. I know. I'm good for right now. But you'll be the first to know. Second. Maybe third."

Chloe reached, threw an apple chip at Max. Missed.

"Come on." Max kissed her. "We've got almost three days of potential shenanigans ahead of us. Any requests? Chill for a while, or?"

Chloe took a moment to think about it. "This is nice. But would it be possible, to maybe…later, go for a little joyride out there? Like you do? Among the stars?"

"You're a star." Max nodded, squeezed her hard. "And you got it. All the heavens are yours, forever and ever."

Somewhere up the hill, a leafy green something trundled toward them.

---

Jillian's phone buzzed at 5:33 AM. She was in the hallway, outside the front door to her high-rise condo, back from an early run to the gym and grocery store. She scrambled for keys, unlocked her door, set the bags on the marble kitchen counter.

A text. One of MCCP's media interns. She saw the beginnings of the news headline. Felt a quick flash of anger.

She opened the link, scanning as she re-dialed the office on another phone.

"Goddammit."

---

Inside the Doomsday Cult of MCCP Corp.

First in a special investigative report examining a modern conspiracy of faith, fraud, and guns for hire

Introduction by Patricia Tanner, Ed., with Elliot Portnoi and Juliet Watson

February 15, 2016 8:32a.m. ET

NEW YORK — Since its incorporation more than two and a half years ago, MCCP has captivated the technical and pop-scientific enthusiast communities with its promises of transformative discoveries, inventions, and achievements. The kind of hopeful advances that hold profound implications for a brighter, more egalitarian tomorrow.

Headquartered in the blistering Nevada desert, and boasting sizable offices in dozens of countries around the world, the organization employs more than ten-thousand professionals and specialists in many of our most important fields of modern endeavor.

A liminal space, alive with people and energy, the ground floor lobby of the startup's sprawling Las Vegas campus is ringed by gleaming, multi-story walls of clear glass. Beyond the open doors are comfortable waiting areas, lush plants and an abundance of natural desert light. Its center is anchored by a larger-than-life, high-tech wraparound video wall, streaming a breathtaking real-time view of our Earth, as seen by satellites out in space.

The messages, promises, are sculpted in the welcoming architecture. They are carried outward in a near-constant stream of shared research, development and scientific and humanitarian advancements. Openness. Transparency. Hope for a better, more inclusive future for all of us.

But like a piece of cheese on a spring, the promise is both lure and trap. A terrible and dangerous lie.

Inside the facility, underground, private armies train with advanced weaponry for an undisclosed purpose. Above, entire floors of unlicensed, unregulated 'scientists' experiment with nuclear and biological weapons of mass destruction. While otherwise intelligent 'employees' look to their leaders with an unquestioning religious fervor, believing the bombastic corporate mythology that they are all of a chosen few, who will build a new utopia beyond the fast-approaching end-times of our world.

This serves as the introduction to our investigative editorial series examining the hard-fought truths, belligerent falsehoods, and as yet unanswered questions about MCCP. We explore its murky, potentially criminal foundations, its capitalization, its flawed and dangerous 'inventions,' the magnetic draw of its charismatic young leaders, and the global, militarized reach of their secret doomsday agenda.

We at the Journal believe in traditional religious freedoms. Faith, hope, are the most human of traits. Many of us carry an innate need to feel that there's more to it all than merely ourselves. We all want to believe that things will be better for us, and those we cherish, somewhere up ahead. But as we've seen time and again throughout our shared and often bloody histories, our human programming can be too easily hijacked. Our hopeful nature cynically manipulated and turned against our better interests.

Only openness and transparency can inoculate us from charismatic lies, secret agendas and the dangers lurking in the darkness they bring. Faith doesn't need an army if its truths and intentions are self-evidently good and right and just.

As reporters, we have a responsibility to the public we serve. This has often been interpreted as giving equal time to 'both sides' of a story, remaining objective, dispassionate observers. But not every story has two sides. When the application of objectivity for its own sake gives an unintended veneer of legitimacy to those who would do significant harm to others, we have to step back and re-examine the purpose behind our methods and our policies. In light of the truths our investigations reveal, we have no choice but to take a position. Shine a light. Expose the secrets, possible criminal conspiracies, ongoing negligence, and the truths behind the beautiful lie of MCCP and its enigmatic young founders.

Through this series, we encourage others, our peers at other publications around the world, bloggers, concerned citizens, to join our conversation online, over the air and in print - dig and examine as we have. Ask the hard questions we haven't.

We also ask that local, state and federal investigators, law enforcement and regulators take their responsibilities to law and public safety more seriously and that they begin to take action. We ask the same introspection of customers, partners and enabling suppliers of MCCP. And we urge any insiders who may have been swept up, who may hold information but have been too afraid to speak out, please, come forward. We would hear and share your stories.

This series is editorial.

But the facts remain objective.

~ Veritas liberabit vos ~

-Ed.

— Part one, our exclusive and damning interview with MCCP founder Max Caulfield, begins today on page A2.

Tomorrow, we'll speak with a host of international nuclear engineering and energy leaders, exploring their independent analysis' of the flaws behind the inevitable radiological dangers of MCCPs snake-oil fusion reactor designs. As well as expert speculation about why they've been so brazenly and openly unleashed on an unsuspecting public, and actively promoted as a panacea to the neediest, if least sophisticated, nations.

Continuing later in the week, we'll consult with psychologists and de-programming psychiatrists who have come to believe that our darling Alena, America's littlest hero, is in truth a victim of religious reprogramming - advanced brainwashing that compelled her to walk headlong into a hail of deadly bullets last New Year's Eve. An action that could easily have led to a terrible sacrifice of her young life - all to protect organization leader Chloe Price during this year's terrifying attacks.

Other upcoming stories in this series will be announced as the week progresses. They will be part of an ongoing, interactive dialog. We invite you to participate.

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