07: The Variables

Mirai, Mirai #07. Serial fiction: multiverse family drama.

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Mirai, Mirai is a bite-sized speculative serial drama, posting weekly. This time, Lady Radiance and her friends must fend off the attacks of multiversal megalomaniac Mheksos the Mighty—with the help of their children from alternate futures far worse than their own.

Previously, although some attempts at discretion have been made, the warning to avoid “spoilers” has been honored more in the breach than in the observance…

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When Marissa returned from tucking Jake’s sister in, she was unsurprised to find that even the semblance of order had disintegrated in her absence. Though the old man had asked to use the main lab’s full-length whiteboard, he’d abandoned erasing it halfway through and was across the room, scolding Jonathan Jones for something he’d just said to Sebastian. Adjacent to the conversation, Ignis had boldly taken her desk chair, while the girl, Makaria, sat stiffly in the opposite corner.

“Don’t even joke about that,” The Matrix was saying. Marissa hung back, watching him. She couldn’t believe Titan Beetle had thought no one would catch his family resemblance, but this one wasn’t so easy to place. It was something in the gestures, and maybe the gaze—like he could see straight through the fabric of reality. “Do you know how hard it was to find a timeline where he doesn’t get himself killed in action?”

“How hard?” Sebastian said, though not in a way that suggested he was bothered by the idea.

“Apparently it’s “one of the near-constants of the multiverse”,” Jonathan said. “Mheksos got you in mine. Command—uhh—Dr. Cotlin, too. What’d you say happened to your Chained Lightning, Matrix?” he added quickly.

He sighed. “I didn’t. But since you’re just going to speculate, my timeline had a civil war in ’29.”

“That’s lame,” Ignis said.

“Death by civil war is lame? What’re you comparing it to?” Jonathan said.

He smirked. “Aliens.”

“Ooh. Okay, that’s fair.”

“Hold up. Aliens?” Sebastian said.

“Yeah, so, the Rigelian—”

“My father killed you,” Makaria said. When everyone turned to look at her, she scowled deeply. “And the world was better for it. I’m going to go sit with Mother.”

She shouldered her way through the other door, leaving a surprised silence in her wake. Only Ignis seemed unfazed. “Matrix, I’m grateful you organized all this,” he said drily, “but did we really have to bring the token evil teammate?”

“Is she?” Jonathan looked back to him. “I assumed that was you.”

“You know nothing about me,” Ignis said, sounding offended.

“We definitely know you’re a drama queen,” Marissa said. “Now get out of my chair.”

He’d actually jumped, knocking over the mug full of pens. “F—uh—y-yes, ma’am. Getting.”

“Very smooth,” Jonathan said.

The Matrix looked like he wanted to pick a window and start shoving people out of it. “Wonderful. Hello, Doctor. Now, are you all quite done endangering the integrity of our future?”

“Actually, I had a question about that,” she said as she sat down. A girl could get used to this kind of respect; she’d only had her PhD for four months, and most of their test subjects continued to treat her like a little sister. “If you took our original timeline offline and this branch is the replacement, why does it matter what we mess up? I thought 32 was the one you’re concerned about.”

“I believe I took the original timeline offline,” he said. “If that didn’t work, or if we don’t succeed in driving Mheksos off, I might have to make another backup and try again. I’d like to have as little contamination as possible, to reduce the variables I’m dealing with.”

“Right. And what happens to us in that situation?” Sebastian asked, arms folded as he leaned in.

She uncapped one of the energy drinks she’d brought down from the fridge. “You heard the man. You’ll probably be dead already.”

“There’s no point in any of you worrying about that now,” The Matrix said tensely. “Now that Mheksos is stuck in the same flow of time that we are, without the ability to jump forward and check the probabilities, the most important thing is that we retain the predictive advantage. I don’t know yet when or how he’ll attack again, but I can at least start making estimates.”

Marissa frowned. “So, what’s the problem with us changing enough things that he ends up flying blind? That would help, right?”

“No. If my calculations drift off course, I’m next to useless. I’ve been through this with you a hundred times—” He caught himself, and groaned.

“Oh, have you?” she said, lowering her drink.

The Matrix ran his hand back over his hair. “Can I just finish explaining one thing?”

“Yeah. You can explain which me you were discussing this with previously, ’cause if this is some kind of time loop, or you’ve secretly done this, like, fifty times already…”

“No. Nothing like that,” he said, quieter now. “It was with my Dr. Marissa, back in Terra-43. Mheksos attacked my timeline thirty years ago, and you and I had been working on this project ever since.” He gestured to his dark suit. “I just came from your funeral, actually.”

“What.” She set the bottle down with a half-empty thunk. “That’s crazy. I’ve never even studied physics, or—why would you want my help?”

“Let’s just say that neither of us had much else to do,” The Matrix said. He was turning the dry-erase marker over and over in his hands now. “Well. Knowing you, we might as well get this over with. Hi, again. I’m Nick Harper—I suppose you know my mother, Clare.”

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