It was not so long ago that you asked me to tear this all apart. I did. With the stroke of my hand, I undid your work. You made me for this, and so I do as you made me to.

You left me there on the island. Care for it, you said. I did. Rest in the deep waters, you said. I went into the waters deep and slept, dreamless. For you, it was many years. It was eons for me.

When you woke me from the sea and I walked among your creations once again, I was changed. Where I had been mighty, you made me demure, my features more delicate and given to smiles of sad knowing than mad pleasure. I liked it. If I have not thanked you, please let me now.

The knowing that started with the old island went deeper still into its modern face. Then, once more, you asked me to slip away. I did.

Please understand: I am grateful. Knowing the all and why of everything is not the blessing one might think, but it does afford a unique view. That is not lost on me.

I say all of this at your beckon, detail to help you understand one thing. I wish for you what you seek. The world I now reconstitute is built on the bones of this promise, this quest for coherence. As you like, I have codified it and placed it where it will be difficult to reach and harder still to obtain. I have cast and recast those souls you requested to be as you wish for this cycle of existence.

I remain steadfast and ready. Reach for me, and I will be there. Otherwise, I shall leave you to it.

Now with the tip of my head, I smash the core and spill the universe anew. It, like all things, starts with a bang and ends with a crack. Your new 32C awaits. Happy hunting.

I looked into Umberto’s eyes and smiled. My uncle cheated death. His heart gave out, but thanks to 32nd Century medicine and a childlike sense of humor, he’d pulled through.

“I’m glad you made it,” I said.

Berto nodded. “Yeah. Beats the alternative.”

I recalled, then, that Umberto’s father—Big Berto, the family called him—had died. I didn’t make the funeral. Mason was barely two at the time, and Lila and I weren’t getting along. Still weren’t.

“I’m sorry about your dad, Berto.”

“He was a good father. Mother is still beside herself. She can’t believe it happened.”

I knew the feeling. “Death comes for us all.”

Berto looked down at the glass sheet.

I didn’t mean to pry, but I too looked, read the headline on the beam feed: “Mahogany Mage Cult Strikes Local CoDex Fabricator.”

Berto saw me looking, put his eyes on me over his round glasses, moustache wiggling as he spoke. “You know they reopened the Fab?”

I did not. “No, I didn’t. When did they do that?”

“Umm. ‘Bout six months ago.”

Folks had left Blackwater in droves after the CoDex Corporation closed the Fabricator. It had been the heart of the town, so its closing left little life there. I could still smell the terrible waste in the air from the Fab. Reminded me of home.

Berto put his eyes back on the beam feed, changed the story. “They make toilet paper now.”

“That’s it?”

He nodded.

“Kina a niche market, isn’t it?”

“Everyone has to wipe,” he said.

But most folks didn’t anymore. There were more hygienic ways to tidy oneself beside wiping with a pulped tree. No, it was a deliberate marketing effort toward people addicted to the past. I had to admit I was one such person, and it showed in my clothes. I went 21st Century most days, though many a piece was threadbare and in need of upgrading. One would think with all the secrets I ate and novels I wrote that I’d be able to afford new clothes. But the City of Rivers, being the Ministry’s Capital, was much more expensive than Blackwater. Mason was nearly four, and Lila was pregnant with our second. Everything flowed that way. Little left for luxury.

“How’s your dad doin’?” Berto asked.

I frowned. “He’s all right. Stubborn as hell. He won’t change his ways, Bert. I’m worried about him.”

Berto nodded but said nothing.

I knew he and my father talked. They’re close, like brothers. They each had brothers—my father one, Berto two—but they counted each other closer.

I had a brother like that in Horace. I missed the days when we could spend Solstice together. His life with the Ministry’s Armed Response took him to planets far and wide. And his wife, Dole, wasn’t the biggest fan of mine. We got along well, and I liked her, but her views drifted in the direction of the Badd Heurists.

And as if by thinking it, I’d sent it.

Abigail walked in, kissed Umberto under his moustache, then said, “Malka Badd is coming to Blackwater!”

I sighed and lowered my head. “Are they expecting protests?”

“Well I should hope not,” Gail said. “Malka Badd is just what Blackwater needs. She’s a successful entrepreneur who can bring business back to Blackwater.”

“I thought CoDex had an exclusivity agreement on Blackwater.”

Berto spoke up, “They say they do, but when Badd asked for the contracts, CoDex said they were lost in filing filaments. You know what that means.”

I knew what Bert wanted me to think it means. That Malka Badd knew the truth about what a crooked operation CoDex was and would finally take down that wretched tyrant. Never mind that both sat there in the relative splendor of a beautiful anthropological home on Scarver Lane due to fat microdivs from CoDex shares, drawing a basic living income from the Ministry, a service Malka Badd and the Heurists wanted to end—so the beams said, anyway.

I swept my skirt under me and sat down, bracelets clanging on the rich mahogany table—another piece of the past made new again. I sipped tea from the glass Gail gave me, then looked out the flexible field separating the dining room from the porch.

Mason and Lila were out there singing and swinging on the porch swing. Lila was very heavy, and her face showed the wear of our nightly arguments. I was sure mine did too. She saw me looking and smiled.

I smiled back.

Mason saw me, then smiled and waved, his long golden hair spilling over his arm as he flung it wide.

“When are you gonna cut that hair?”

I thought it was my grandmother at first, the departed Leone, one of my favorite people in this life. But it was her middle daughter, Gail.

I ran a hand through my hair, cropped in the back but long in the bangs. “I dunno. I like the length in the front. Don’t you?”

“I meant Mason’s.”

I knew that. My deflection hadn’t worked. So much for civility.

“We’ll cut it when he asks to cut it,” I said.

Abigail looked down, her mouth pulled tight. She smoothed her sweater and went to the kitchen.

“I like it,” Umberto said.

I smiled. “I do, too.”

“Please don’t cut it.”

“We won’t. Not until he asks. If he asks.”

Lila passed through the flexible field. “I need to run out for a bit before the party tonight. Could you watch him, T?”

“I thought I was going with you?”

“We got him,” Umberto said.

“Are you sure?” Lila asked.

“Absolutely.”

“Thanks, Berto. I appreciate it.”

“Take real good care of him.”

My wrist itched, and I scratched at it. The itch was underneath the sheath of the hissing blade, that instrument of death my father gave me when I was a child, equipped me to fight off the aggressors on the Jungle Planet, where Lila and I had met. In recent years, I’d put it to rest. But since Malka Badd and her Heurists had started attacking folks, I didn’t feel safe anymore. Peacekeepers weren’t doing shit either. Too busy killing each other and unarmed Ministry citizens. And besides that, most Peacies aligned themselves with Heurist views.

Berto nodded at my wrist. “Still have that, huh?”

“Yeah.”

“I remember when Wily picked that up. We were down on the Southern Shores. He saw it in a workshop right near the piers. He got for five bits, I believe. Can’t buy anything for five bits anymore.”

“I didn’t know that’s where he got it. He gave it to me so long ago.”

“I used to have one like it. Sold it, I think. To a guy for a mess of toys.”

I smiled and shook my head. “You’ll never grow up, will you?”

“Not if I can help it.”

Lila walked over to me and put her hand on my shoulder.

I wanted to shrug it off, but I didn’t. I kissed her hand instead.

“We need to go.”

“All right,” I said. “Lemme say goodbye to Mason.”

I walked through the flexible field onto the porch.

Mason smiled at me, eyes beaming with young curiosity and joy. He said, “Are you gonna play with me?”

“I’ve got to go out with Mommy for a little while. We have a grown-up party to go to.”

“Aw! I want you to play with me!”

“I’ll play when we get back. How’s that sound?”

He smiled. “That sounds good!”

“Gimme a hug.”

Mason threw his arms around me and hugged me tight as he could. “I love you.”

The hug pinched my shoulder, which had never healed quite right. I smiled through the pain, letting my love for him soothe the ravages of middle age.

“I love you, buddy.” I knelt next to him, careful on my bad knee, looked him in the eyes. “Listen: do as Uncle Berto and Aunt Abigail say, okay?”

He nodded. “I will.”

“Okay, good. You’re such a good listener.”

“I am!”

He let go of me and ran back inside, hopped up on Umberto’s lap.

I smiled. Gratitude filled me. I looked on this place I had to come at the holidays, where I had been coming since I was a child. With my parents off-world and ailing, and my grandparents all gone, it was a lonely time of life. My friends were busy with their own messy lives. My sister, Angie Everafter, lived on the Gothic Planet, alternately performing for and serving the Ministry’s wealthiest citizens. She and I had spent many hours in Berto and Abigail’s home. So many stories lined those walls, a reference library for this chapter of our lives. Lila’s parents weren’t well, either, both slowly dying back on the Red Jungle. And her siblings and friends were all over the galaxy now. But we had this place. This one safe place for family.

I knew nothing. Of that I was certain. True, my eyes were outfitted with bioaugmentation linked to internal registries designed to decipher and decode the actions of others, but that was only for what’s shown. Folks show a lot of things for lots of reasons. Reading them—especially while eating a secret—was important to my work, critical even, but it wasn’t telepathy. Even telepathy, with which I had some experience, does not show the heart. That organ speaks its mysteries in ways only understood by another of the same kind, and no 32C technology or magic could decipher its intricacies.

Warby smiled and put a latte in front of me. It looked like a beautiful leaf there, the chocolate in the foam, floating gently, smiling at me over the orichalcum counter. My eyes lit up, and I said, “Thanks, Warbs. It’s beautiful.”

“I’m glad you like it.”

I took a sip and rolled the froth around my mouth. “Milk’s just right today.”

“It’s real cow’s milk. I know you like that. Oh! That reminds me.”

Warby opened the fridge, pulled out a bottle, and placed it on the counter. “For your son.”

“Aw, Warby, thank you. That’s so sweet of you.”

“I remembered when he was in here last that he really loved cow’s milk.”

It’s true. “Yes he does.”

I eyed some scones in flexible fielded keepers.

“You want one of those?”

I didn’t normally eat pastries. My metabolism had shifted and weight didn’t fly off my skinny ass the way it used to. “Uhhh … I dunno.”

“Here.” She opened the keeper and pulled out two. “One for you and one for Lila.”

“Can you put all this on my tab, please? Something is wrong with my bitfeed. I can’t get the cipher to work right.”

“No worries. I hope you enjoy them.”

“Thanks.”

“What’s the rest of your day look like?”

I sighed. “Secrets. More and more secrets.”

“You’re working late tonight?”

“My usual late, yeah. And the sun goes down so early right now, it feels even later.”

“For me too. I hate that. Miss my sun.”

I nodded. “How about you?”

“Oh I’m here for the duration. You know.”

We both looked down.

“Well, I better get back to it,” I said. “Many more secrets to eat before I can rest.”

Warby gave a wave. “Bye, T! Hope it goes well!”

I scooped up the milk and the scones with one hand, gave a little cheers with the latte in the other. “Be seeing you, Warby.”

“Later.”

I left Café Tredici and headed back to The House of Secrets, my place of business. Only four doors down and across a thin docking alley meant coffee convenience.

The lanai of Tredici reminded me of long talks there with friends and colleagues, of the time Horace helped me try to defuse a bomb set by Klava, of the long talks with the former owner, of that one fan who became much more. So many memories in so few steps.

As I passed the first door, the pressure of the weather hit me. These storms, I thought, keep rolling in, destroying my head. I sipped the latte. It helped.

 At the second door, I heard the crackling of code. By the third, my fancy eyes could see the drop shadow. I put my latte on the edge of the short wall past the fourth door, at the docking alley, then turned, back flat against the wall, set the milk and scones on the ground.

The expert subtle hissing crawl of the silent tracker closed in. Were it not for my training and enhancements, I would have missed it. I waited, counting breaths, releasing them in sync with the crackling to cloak my position. Taurans ghosted naturally, and I was half Tauran, but this tracker was an order above. If they could ghost so well, surely they could see me.

I didn’t give them the chance.

They cleared the alley, and I grabbed the crackling outline, invisible to normal eyes, swung them around, pushed them against the wall, and leaned my forearm into their throat.

They went visible then, and put their hands up next to their hooded face.

“Yes?” I said. “Can I help you?”

“Let me go, please.”

“I’d be happy to.” I didn’t. “Why are you following me?”

“I am not here to fight you. I’m here to invite you.”

“To what?”

I flipped on my fancy periphery, then my three-sixty vision, to make sure no one was around or behind me. The field of vision is a bit disorienting, even to experienced users, but I could handle it all right. No one was around. No Brims. I worried about Brims. The Ministry of Secrets liked to send Brims to talk to me from time to time. Long black coats and pale faces with dark lips under a smart brim always meant trouble.

“I’m not from the Ministry.”

My brow creased. “You psychic?”

“No. But I know a spell that lets me hear thoughts.”

“Dismiss it. Now.”

The truth was, I had no way of knowing if they dismissed the spell or not. But I made like I did.

“It’s done,” they said. “May we speak casually now?”

My fancy eyes showed me the heat patterns in their body. Active patterns lit up for surprise and defense, but not trickery. So I eased up, let them go. My gut told me something wasn’t right, but guts can’t be trusted. That’s why we had fancy eyes.

“Watch out for my milk and scones.”

“Oh. Quite right.” They looked at my items, then took a dainty step back toward the street.

“What’s the invitation?”

“It’s an induction.”

“Into what?”

They grabbed my latte and handed it to me.

I regarded it with suspicion, then took it, sipped it.

“I’d rather not discuss the details here. Monitoring and all. You understand.”

I did. “I’m sorry but the timing’s not good for me. I’ve got appointments all day and well into the night. And I have a family, as you probably know.”

“Yes, we are aware of your obligations. We can help.”

I scooped up the scones and milk. “I seriously doubt that. But thanks for thinking of me. Next time send a letter, okay? I know paper’s not cheap, but it’s classier than stalking.”

I turned away and walked toward the House of Secrets, but I kept my vision all-around.

“Wait.”

I stopped, looked over my shoulder. “It’s a no. Thank you, but I really don’t have the time.”

“Here.”

I looked at their hand, long fingers from a glove, nails dark brown with the cuticles showing. There was a topaz disc there. “In case you change your mind.”

“I won’t.”

“Just in case.”

I sighed and snatched the disc. “You track me with this, I’m gonna be unhappy.”

“Check it out. I know you have the means.”

Not easily, but yeah, I could. I knew people who could.

My eyes ran over it. Underneath, the filament had a Deep Bubble address and the word ‘sinopa.’

“Is that you?”

They nodded. “That’s me. It’s an open invitation, but time keeps moving, you know?”

“It’s the future,” I said, “but not the one we’re promised. Same shit, different day.”

They laughed. “True.”

“I’ll think it over. Again, thank you for thinking of me. Sincerely. But I have to go.”

Sinopa nodded. “I understand. Be seeing you.”

I nodded. “Yeah. Be seeing you.”

I went up the steps to the House, and worked the ciphers hidden there to open the door. It was plain to see, but not to open.

I had only a foot in when I got a Bubble from Berto.

I stepped inside, closed the door, sealed it. I caught the Bubble and Berto’s image appeared there, in the rear antechamber of the House of Secrets.

“Hey Bert. What’s up?”

“Hey, T. I need a favor.”

“Of course. How can I help?”

“I was at the Fab the other night looking at some of the drums, and I found a weird glyph. I’m wondering if you could track it down for me.”

“Sure. Can you send it to me public? Or do we need to go deep?”

“As far as I know it’s legit. I’m forwarding it pub. If it’s not, and we get some static, that will tell us something too.”

Bert knew things.

“Good thinking,” I said. “I’ll let you know what I turn up.”

“Thanks, T. I appreciate it.”

“Anything for you. Just ask.”

Bert smiled, wiggled his moustache, and popped the Bubble.

I made a mental note about the glyph and set a mnemonic flag to stick up a few minutes after work.

The rest of the workday was fine. I liked my work. The service of eating secrets that folks desperately needed to release fulfilled me, but it wore me down too. Each day left me tired, with little space to hear sounds of home, little energy to pour out the words of my novels. But it was all right. I was living the life I’d set out to create years before. Imperfect as it was, it was real, no longer imagined. And though I longed for shorter work hours, longer writing hours, and more unstructured time, I was in control of my life. I had things hooked up.

As I sealed the front gate to the House of Secrets and enabled the security intelligence network, Lila blew me a Bubble.

I stepped away from the House to avoid entangling the Bubble with security, then caught it. Lila’s face appeared and bobbed in the air as I walked the private dock to Clara, my car.

“Hey,” Lila said. “Can you do me a favor?”

“Sure, sweetie. What do you need?”

“Can you swing by Neldon Frond and pick up some food? I don’t feel like cooking tonight.”

“Sure. I’d be happy to.”

“Thank you so much. It really is a big help.”

“You bet. No problem at all. I like cookin’.”

I reached my car and said, “Clara, transfer Bubble to cabin, please, and blow the hatch.”

The car responded to my request and opened. I heard its voice from inside say, “Bubble transferred.”

“Thanks, Clare. Head to Neldon Frond, please.”

“Right away,” Clara said.

I hopped in, and Clara sealed the hatch with a hiss. The car made little noise as it woke and lifted into the air.

“Anything else you need?” I asked.

“Mason would love some cow’s milk,” Lila said.

I held up the bottle from Warby.

Lila smiled. “You’re such a good parent.”

“I try. It’s important to me.”

“Be safe.”

“I will be.”

“Love you.”

“Love you,” I said.

“Bye.”

“Bye.”

The Bubble popped. Clara whirred in near silence to the store.

Along the way, I reflected on the Men of Skin and their legacy of hate. Even with the Men all but disbanded, they laid the groundwork for someone like Malka Badd to come along. The Badd Heurists were worse in some ways, if one kina hate could be worse than another. I’d had currency with the leadership of the Men that had allowed me twice to get close and take them down. Badd Heurists hated me on sight. I had no way to get in there. Even if I could, would I do it again? It hadn’t worked. Every time I’d played god, someone worse stepped in.

Clara put us down in the docking bay for the grocer. I hoped out and ran in, grabbed some fresh, real ingredients for chili, some high quality printed cheese and crackers, then waited for the autoclerk to scan me out. Drones could have brought the same shit to my doorstep, but it was slightly cheaper and faster to grab it on the way home.

“Dinner at home, love.”

I turned around.

Klava smiled at me, lips long and lovely, dark hair pulled back tight.

“I never get tired of running into you.”

“I’m afraid it’s short this time, love. Got my own demons to put down.”

That didn’t sound good.

“I’ll be all right,” she said.

Please don’t read my mind, I thought. You know it drives me nuts.

“You know you can’t wait for me to.” Klava drug a finger across my collarbone. “And Lilar’s all right, then?”

I nodded. “Yeah. She’s fine.”

“She up the pole?”

“Yes, Klava. She’s pregnant again. But you knew that already.”

Klava cracked a sly little smile, pulled her finger away. “Bet it’ll look just like you. Like the other one.”

“Maybe.”

I thought back on my relationship with Klavdiya. Lila and I had an open agreement and so I from time to time would get sucked into romance and other encounters of a terrestrial vibe. Klava meant more to me than that, which is why it stopped. I still understood little about her, even having visited her home dimension and walked worlds foreign to both of us, even after having her blade and bullets kill for me time and time again, after having held her in my arms thinking she would die and then lying in hers thinking my time had come. But she got me. Somehow, she got me.

Klava looked down. “So I wanted to say hello. And then goodbye. Might not see ya again and all that.”

“Klava, if there’s some way I can help …”

“Sod off.”

I nodded again. “Yeah. Okay. Whatever. Good to see you again. I hope it all goes well.”

She looked like she might reach for me, but she didn’t. She turned away, disappeared down an aisle.

“I am ready to receive you now,” the autoclerk said.

“Yeah, yeah. Gimme a damn second.”

A little panic surged when I opened my bitfeed to pay. Whatever was wrong with it was fixed. I nodded as I pieced together how Sinopa had tracked me.

I paid and brought the food home. Mason helped me cook, and we brought the chili in for Lila.

“Oh, thank you so much!” she said. “It smells really good.”

“I did all the seasonin’!” Mason said.

Lila looked at me.

“It’s true. He did.”

“Wow! You’re getting to be such a big boy!”

“Yeah, I am!”

We ate the chili together, watched a piece of a beam, then Lila took Mason up for bedtime.

I sat on the couch, staring into the black night, topaz disc warming in-between my fingers.

“We are aware of your responsibilities,” she’d said. “We can help,” she’d said.