Masters of Fate

by A. K. DuBoff

  “There are no records from the ‘future’,” the voice clarified.

  Kaiden’s brows drew together. “There aren’t? Then what did the Hegemony observe to make them think they were seeing records of future events?”

  “They misinterpreted the layered progression. No records exist beyond the furthest point of physical progression in spacetime.” That didn’t clear up matters in the least.

  “I don’t know what you mean,” I admitted. “But why base everything around spacetime? There are so many other beings in the higher planes. Why is everything centered around us?”

  “Because that is where we began, before we ascended,” the voice replied.

  “What did I tell you!” Toran looked rather pleased with himself.

  “All right, that confirms it.” I nodded. “And the ‘Overlords’?”

  “We encountered them when we first began to expand our consciousnesses. We sought to share with them, to stand as equals, but their spirits were too driven by greed for them to ascend.”

  “That explains the city ruins,” I concluded. “Did everyone ascend?”

  “Those who could did. Others ventured out from their home planet—you could consider them your ancestors who were brave enough to leave their oppressors behind. Much of the technology they brought with them was lost until recently,” the voice explained.

  “Stars…” Kaiden murmured.

  “The ascended just let the Overlords take over their former world?” Maris asked.

  “It wasn’t ours or theirs. We resided in the same place on different planes. One could make no more claim to it than another. After ascension, many no longer cared about their roots. Others wished to maintain a connection to the corporeal realm, so we developed technology to allow our consciousness to take physical form when we desired.”

  Toran came to attention “The bioprinters! Those were originally used to enable the 10D pure-consciousness beings to take physical form?”

  “That was their original purpose, yes,” the voice confirmed. “You have found a… creative new use for them, which was needed in this time of crisis.”

  “No wonder we had so much influence over our attributes,” Kaiden mused. “I guess the original design was quite literally to form a body based on the innermost desires of our consciousness, from the sound of it.”

  “Yeah, I guess so,” I realized, absently running my fingers through my fuchsia hair.

  “And what are you?” Maris asked. “Are you one of the ascended?”

  “I am a… copy. A preservation of one of our leaders who has since moved on, just as those who guard the artifacts were created to endure beyond natural life.”

  “If you’re already ascended, what’s next?” Maris questioned.

  The voice let out a musical laugh. “Words could never describe.”

  “Back to what you were saying before…” I said slowly. “Why do some of the records in the Archive look like they are future events, but you said they’re not?”

  “This place is the result of the physical cause and effect—the chain of the events—transpiring in your plane,” the voice explained. “New records cannot be created until that path progresses, only previous states are overwritten.”

  “But there are records beyond the reset point,” I protested. “How could those exist?”

  The musical voice chuckled again. “These progressions don’t have to happen at the same pace. The hours elapsed have not yet reached the point of a previous universal reset.”

  Suddenly, everything clicked for me. “Stars, that’s it! We did win this battle against the Saps, but we hadn’t lost yet after this amount of chronological time in another previous-future timeline.”

  “Ow, my head,” Maris moaned.

  Kaiden perked up. “Damn, you’re right.”

  “There was never a ‘bright future’ ahead… it was only evidence of another reset loop where we waited longer before initiating a universal reset,” Toran said.

  Maris stared at him blankly. “I’m still lost.”

  Kaiden crouched down and traced his finger along the stone floor over the cavern, leaving a glowing, golden trail behind wherever he touched. “Okay, this is the timeline.” He drew a narrow rectangle. “It goes on forever, but physical reality can be altered. Say some corn is growing and is almost ready for harvest.” He filled in most of the box. “But then we reset back two weeks—that corn is now immature again.” He drew a horizontal line through the shaded part of the box at the one-quarter mark. “Now, the corn needs to grow for two more weeks and then a little more until harvest,” he traced his finger up the shaded area, “but it’s only after it completes the growing cycle that it will be ready.” He shaded in the remaining area of the box. “Up until that final stretch, it’s just growing back to the growth point it achieved before the reset.”

  “And anything could happen to it after the reset,” I chimed in. “There’s no guarantee it will ever grow as well as it did that first time because the environmental conditions might change—or it might do better. But as far as any records in the Archive are concerned, everything up to the reset point already happened, and that same amount of time must elapse before new records are formed, versus adding a layer when looping over the same timeframe.”

  Maris thought for a few seconds. “Okay, so, if we were the corn, we grew faster than we did on one past loop leading up to the universal reset. The events from that old loop now look like the future only because we got to ‘here’ faster.”

  “Exactly,” Toran said. “Just because we grew more efficiently, the overall rate that time passes isn’t any different; planets will still orbit at their natural pace, cells will age. It’s been, what, a little over a week since we sealed the Master Archive?”

  Kaiden nodded. “Yeah, something like that.”

  “Well, a previous iteration may have taken two weeks, or a month. The future we thought the crystals showed was really just us being terrible on a previous loop.”

  I smiled. “Damn, this version of us is good.”

  Toran chuckled. “I suppose we are.”

  “After we catch up with that longest duration loop, it’s back to etching untouched crystals, no more layering,” Kaiden concluded.

  I shook my head. “All this time when we thought the records showed a future of victory, but it was actually a record of failure.”

  Kaiden took a shaky breath. “But without that, we might not have believed we’d make it through.”

  “Maybe that’s why we finally gave up and reset that first time,” Maris said.

  “Perhaps,” I agreed. “And every time since, we’ve been trying to achieve the bright future we were convinced we must have—taking less and less time with each reset as our confidence grew, believing that victory was possible.”

  “That’s pretty crazy when you look at it in those terms,” Kaiden said.

  “Yeah, it really is.” I fell into quiet reflection. The hyperdimensional beings weren’t beholden to the constant of time, but we still were—as strong as we had become. Despite all our abilities, hope remained one of the powerful most tools are our disposal.

  “This next loop will be different,” Maris said, breaking the silence. “No more Darkness.”

  “How long do we go back? Four months?” Kaiden questioned.

  “Sounds about right.” I shrugged, then groaned. “Ugh, I’ll still be in school then.”

  “Hey, if our memories are as bad as they were on the other loops, you won’t remember you’ve done it before,” he pointed out.

  “No, instead I might just have a frustrating case of déjà vu—as if senioritis isn’t bad enough as it is.” I chuckled. “Except, remembering all of the answers on my finals would be handy.”

  “Do you think we will remember anything?” Maris asked.

  “We’ve never done a reset that far back, as far as we know,” Toran replied. “I can only imagine that duration will exacerbate
the recall issues we experienced with other universal resets. However, perhaps the Duzies in us will give us enough of a boost to retain some memories.”

  “Memories or not, our physical upgrades will be gone.” I’d be going back to my injured self, but perhaps I could look into a corrective surgery on another world. The time for self-pity was far in my past.

  “I would value the chance to reconnect, even if our magic is no longer present,” Toran said.

  “Yes, absolutely,” I agreed.

  We exchanged details about where each of us were residing before the Darkness came and how we could be reached on the Net. I didn’t know how many details we’d retain after the universal reset, but it was worth a shot.

  “What about the Hegemony?” Kaiden asked. “We saved civilization, and no one will ever know.”

  “Is it possible to leave a note somewhere?” I wondered.

  “The Hegemony references the Archives’ records,” the mysterious voice offered. “This place will not be affected by the reset.”

  “Can you make some sort of entry about our team and what we did?” I asked it.

  “Yes, but the Archive must be un-sealed for such modifications to be made.”

  Kaiden came to attention. “Oh, right! Almost forgot about that part.”

  “We’d like to unseal the Archive now. The threat has been neutralized.” I grinned. “Always wanted to say that.”

  “Your intentions are pure,” the voice replied. The crystal at the center of the platform flashed and then began to glow brightly. “The Archive is now active.”

  I nodded. “Please make a record that the four of us are the Dark Sentinels, and we—”

  “Highlights from your memories will annotate the record,” the voice replied. “It is done.”

  Maris looked taken aback. “Not sure I want everything in my mind, you know, hanging out there for anyone to look at.”

  “Yeah, I hope those ‘highlights’ are focused on the battle-y things and not… private stuff.” I glanced at Kaiden and he gave me a knowing smile.

  “The record will convey the necessary information,” the voice stated.

  “I guess that will have to do,” Toran said.

  Maris bit her lip. “Is that everything, then?”

  I looked around at my friends. “Yeah, I guess it is. Everyone ready?”

  “No. One more thing.” Kaiden took me by the waist with one hand cupped the other around the back of my head, drawing me in for a kiss.

  I felt awkward at first with Maris and Toran standing right there, but I blocked them out. Nothing could be allowed to ruin that moment, knowing this would be our last together in… I had no idea how long.

  We parted, and he leaned his forehead against mine. “This isn’t goodbye.”

  I fought back the lump my throat. “I know.”

  When we turned back to Toran and Maris, I saw they had wandered away to give us some privacy. “Okay, the grand romantic moment has passed,” I said.

  Maris turned around, flashing a smile. “I would have been disappointed if there wasn’t one.”

  Toran chuckled. “Time to go home?”

  Kaiden nodded. “Yeah, it is.”

  We gathered around the column at the center of the platform.

  “We’ll find each other,” I emphasized, as much for myself as them.

  Kaiden gave my hand one last squeeze. “We will.”

  Toran smiled. “We really did it. We stopped the Darkness and now everything will go back to how it was.”

  “Not everything,” I replied. “We’ll be different.”

  He nodded. “Yes, I suppose we will be.”

  “Well, it’s been great,” Maris said with a grin. “Terrifying and maddening, but great.”

  “Couldn’t have had a better team.” I smiled back. “See you around.”

  Epilogue

  Two months before the end of school, I started to remember.

  It was just flashes at first, no more than fragments of a half-remembered dream. But, as the weeks passed, the images became vivid—previous-future memories of another life. I had been a warrior, a partner, and a leader. I had fulfilled my aspirations and become a hero in a way I never imagined was possible.

  With the thrill of the discovery came the harsh realization that I couldn’t tell anyone. Unless the Hegemony managed to uncover our message in the Master Archive, there would be no documentation for what the Dark Sentinels had done to save our worlds. My memories were of a reality that would never come to pass, at least not as it had unfolded before the universal reset. The only people who would believe me were my teammates. We’d vowed to reunite, in whatever bodies we now possessed, and I intended to keep that promise.

  I was nervous about meeting them again—for them to see me in a damaged body, unable to move in the ways I had before. I knew they would be different, too, but I’d always taken comfort in the knowledge that they’d gotten to know me in a form that matched how I’d always viewed myself on the inside. Except, as I came to accept that there was nothing I could do about it, I started to transform.

  The changes came slowly. First, my injured shoulder ached less in the morning, and I didn’t get winded as easily during gym class at school. As time went on, I continued to feel more vibrant, stronger. By the time graduation rolled around, others had started to notice I was different.

  I brushed off the observations for as long as I could, but when my hair began growing fuchsia at the roots, my parents insisted I visit our family doctor for a full physical. Scans revealed that my shoulder had completely healed, and I was as physically conditioned as a seasoned athlete. Defying all conventional medical explanation, the doctor justified it as a delayed ‘growth spurt’. I played along, but I knew the truth: the Duzies were still inside me. They were a part of me, and I was forever changed.

  The reset had rolled me back to a base state, but the zepto-exotic singularities had been gradually recharging my body, allowing me to return to the state that my higher dimensional consciousness longed for me to have. I had no way to be certain if my magic-casting abilities would also return, but I was compelled to find my friends like we’d agreed, to see if we still shared the kinship we’d developed during our time together.

  Through some careful sleuthing on the Net, we made contact and set our rendezvous for Falstan II, where Kaiden was in the middle of a research study that required his presence.

  I broached the topic with my parents in terms of a post-graduation trip, making the case that interstellar travel would broaden my horizons and help me decide on a career path. Adrianne and Jiro had asked to come, eager to get away from our remote world and see the rest of the Hegemony. I let them down as gently as I could, explaining that this was something I needed to do on my own. In the fashion of true friends, they wished me well and promised we’d get together as soon as I returned. I didn’t tell them that I might not come back, at least not for a long time. As much as I loved my family and friends, my experience in the previous-future had fundamentally altered my life outlook. Erusan was no longer my home; I belonged among the stars.

  Seasonal work for the month following graduation allowed me to scrape together enough money to fund a ticket off my homeworld. I wasn’t sure what to expect on Falstan II when I arrived, but I promised myself to take everything in stride.

  After a grueling slog aboard a budget civilian transport ship, I finally arrived at my destination. Falstan II was a small world, relatively barren in appearance from space, with only a handful of green patches where industrious settlers had set up agricultural operations. I boarded a shuttle headed for a port on the small northern continent.

  I stepped off the shuttle into the quiet port, tended only by an elderly man who seemed content to read the news and nap while on his shift.

  “Can you direct me toward Holloway Farms?” I asked him, hoisting my backpack onto my shoulders.

  He cracked open an eye. “Holloway? It’s
up Route 7 to the northeast. Not much reason to head up to those parts.”

  “I think I’ll find what I’m looking for.” I smiled to myself. “Is there any public transport headed that way?”

  “You can take the Number 2 bus as far as Independence. You can walk from there,” the old man replied.

  “Thank you.”

  I located a stop for the bus number he’d indicated and rode it to the town twenty kilometers away. Independence was little more than a fueling station and grocery store, but the locals were able to direct me toward the road that led the rest of the way to Holloway Farms.

  I took a leisurely pace on the three-kilometer walk, enjoying the warm sun and the dirt road beneath my feet. The quiet was a welcome change from the tight quarters and constant mechanical hum during the previous part of my journey.

  Eventually, I reached a sign marking the official facility entrance. My stomach fluttered, knowing I was only minutes from seeing my friends again.

  Three structures—a large house, a cabin, and an industrial lab—were positioned along the access road. A man in his late-fifties emerged from the house as I approached.

  “Can I help you?” he asked.

  “Hi,” I greeted. “I’m here for the reunion—a friend of Kaiden’s.”

  “Yes, yes! Welcome. I’m Bill Holloway.” The man extended his hand.

  I shook it. “Happy to meet you, Bill. I’m Elle. Thank you for hosting us.”

  He smiled. “Our pleasure. The farm’s been too empty and lonely since the kids moved out. Susie always loves to cook for a group.”

  “Sounds like we came to the right place.” I looked around. “Where is—”

  “Elle!” a high-pitched voice called out, followed by rapid footsteps on wooden stairs.

  I turned to see Maris barreling toward me. “Hi!”

  She wrapped her arms tightly around me as soon as she was close enough, almost knocking me off balance. “I can’t believe we’re finally back together!”

  “I know, this is surreal.” I pulled back so I could examine her at arm’s length. She looked almost identical to the last time I saw her in my previous-future memories—same wavy, dark hair, curvy figure, and bright eyes, though it was strange to see her in normal street clothes.