The next few hours pass swiftly, my attention divided between helping the little ones through their lessons with Great Grandpa Axe, and working with Box on understanding the basics of the infonet. I barely have to think to deal with the little ones, which is good because everything Box is trying to teach me doesn't make any sense.

The infonet is built on non-causal bones, Sky. It's not going to make sense until it does. Now let's try conceptualizing a single data node again.

"How am I supposed to - Hammer, stop knocking over Stone's towers - picture something that I know the contents of but also don't know the contents of? It has to be one or the other!"

That's causal thinking. You need to learn to internalize the paradox of quantum superposition, Sky. It's the most basic first step towards using the infonet. Things are what they appear, but they also aren't. It all depends on who is observing them and when.

"...that's gibberish. How can something be different just because different people look at it? It's the same thing!"

...just try to create the data node, Sky.

I pull my attention from the chatter of little ones happily engaging in unstructured activity time and focus on that strange room pelted with constant rain. It seems to overlay the rest of the world, yet takes up no space at all, only fading into being when I want it to. The feeling of being sheltered from an immense storm intensifies, and I take a deep breath.

"Okay... try to think of something that is and isn't at the same time... something familiar..."

A recreation of Bottle appears in the room, grubby hands and face a perfect facsimile, a small bit of snot barely visible at the edge of his nose. My brain starts throbbing.

"Bottle... is... and isn't... eating his own booger..."

My focus widens, taking in more of the room, and the fake Bottle in front of me shimmers strangely, as if it's two people trying to occupy the same space. I involuntarily refocus on it, and now it's just Bottle picking his nose and getting ready to eat what he finds.

You're getting closer, Sky. Good job!

"Argh!" I let the feel of the sheltered room fade away. "I don't understand. Bottle is always going to pick his nose and eat it! He can't be not doing that at the same time!"

Across the room, Bottle glances at me guiltily, bringing his finger down from just below his mouth and trying to hide his hands behind his back.

I told you this would take a while, Sky. We are retraining your mind. Members of the Diaspora grow up learning these ideas from the moment they first start thinking. You have to unlearn your causal mindset first.

I'm so frustrated I want to cry. Box says there's so much to learn from the infonet, but I can't even make it out of my tiny safe space to start. I want to know all about these other humans, what they've built, what they've been doing. I want to know it now.

"...stupid infonet..."

I think that's enough for today. Don't get discouraged, Sky. Every journey begins somewhere. We will get there eventually. In between making numbers go up, of course.

I reschool my features, not wanting my disappointment to ruin the last few minutes of the little ones' socializing, but I can't get rid of the acid pool of jealousy simmering beneath my chest. MacWillie and Huckens use the infonet as if it's another natural instinct, like breathing. I want that too.

"Is everything okay, Sky Memoriam?" Flower asks seriously, tugging on the hem of my shirt. I force a smile for her.

"It's fine, Flower. Just some unhappy thoughts."

"You should talk to Stove Mind," she says, face scrunched up in what I assume she thinks adults look like when they talk about important matters. "She helps with bad thoughts."

"I'll do that," I promise, a little bit of sourness leaking away at her studious concern. "But first, what do you think about helping everyone clean up?"

"That's a good idea, Sky Mem- oh, you're an Idiot now! I forgot! I'm sorry!"

"It's fine, Flower," I chuckle, "let's just get the others to put their things away, okay?"

She nods, and then runs over to the other little ones, imperiously telling them that she's in charge of cleanup time today. There's a brief complaint from Iron, who says it's supposed to be her turn, but they resolve it peacefully and quickly set to putting away the various toys and materials they're allowed to use during unstructured activity lessons. Soon enough Great Grandpa dismisses them for the day, and he wheels his chair up next to me as the last ones file out.

"Is everything okay, my dear? You look... upset about something."

"It's fine, Great Grandpa," I reply, patting his arm. "It's nothing you can help with. I should go check on MacWillie and Huckens."

"Remember, we're here for you," he calls out as I head for the stairs. I give him a quick wave of acknowledgement and make my way up to the third floor reading nook. When I get there, it doesn't look like the two engineers have moved from where I left them.

"MacWillie? Huckens?"

They both stir out of that strange half-daze, then MacWillie reaches overhead in a long stretch.

"Good timing young Sky. We were just about finishing things up for now."

"Did you find anything?"

Huckens snorts.

"Of course the Chief found something, that's why she's the Chief! I helped," he adds, unnecessarily. I stick my tongue out at him.

"Well, then what did you find?"

"Uhhh, the 51st Battle Griffins are being shifted to replace the 108th Fighting Frogs, which opens up supply lines for the 72nd Octohogs to-"

MacWillie cuts him off, seeing my eyes glaze over.

"Keep it simple, lad," she advises him. "Officers don't need to know every last detail, they just need to know what's important." She draws herself up. "Young Sky, there's a reinforced battlegroup heading to Earth from Wutan-Weylan. Looks like six destroyers, three cruisers, and a dreadnaught, plus two support ships - a stifler, and a sneaker."

"The sneaker is for sneaking around," Huckens says condescendingly, anticipating my question. "A stifler uses reality to create a zone immune to non-causal effects."

I narrow my eyes at him.

"That doesn't make any sense. Wouldn't it cancel itself out then?"

I told you, Sky. You need to learn how to internalize paradoxes.

"Why aren't we just sending over the data node, Chief?" Huckens complains. "It'd make all this much easier."

I clench my fists, nails digging into my palms.

"I'd say keeping things to the verbal is probably for the best, lad," MacWillie replies swiftly. "We want to be able to explain it to the village as well, right?"

She's trying to be diplomatic, but I know she's talking about my inability to use the infonet. The acid pool of anger swells up again.

"So how much time do we have?" I ask curtly.

MacWillie rises from her seat with a groan, knuckling her lower back.

"That's still in flux. Could be three days, could be up to five. Depends if they want to try and get here before the Voidmarch." She rubs her stomach. "I'm bloody famished. Are we able to get some more food, young Sky?"

"...yeah." I lead them out of the shelves towards the exit. "Why would Wutan-Weylan need to worry about the Voidmarch?"

If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it's taken without the author's consent. Report it.

"It looks like they've caught wind of something going on around here and are gathering a wee little fleet of their own. Not sure on the numbers yet, but the fact they're moving at all is concerning. Earth lies square in their territory, and if the Voidmarch muster serious forces it might make things difficult."

I trudge down the stairs, our footsteps thumping on the ancient wood. Great Grandpa is no longer in the meeting room, most likely recording any observations on the little ones he felt was worth making for today's lessons, and we emerge into the late afternoon sunlight unimpeded.

"What does 'difficult' mean? I thought once you set up the incognito field thing that the village would be safe."

"Incogs can be broken," Huckens says quietly, face twisting. "That Entity bloody well cracked ours like a pane of cheap glass."

"But..." my voice trails off as I look over at MacWillie. "You said with the trees we would be okay. That we wouldn't be noticed."

"Aye, young Sky," MacWillie responds grimly, "I did, and I'd have been right were we speaking of a ship or two, but this isn't that, especially with a stifler on the way."

"Can't you just," I wave my arms aimlessly as we walk towards the Bakeries, "use more of the trees? You said they were like engines, right? We have a whole forest!"

"Aye, I could daisy-chain this entire boneyard without much effort now that I know what's what, but that trades one problem for another. Do you remember how the Entity that hauled me and the lad down came into existence in the first place?"

Too much non-causal expression in one place. reality overload. The stupid engineer's right, Sky. To run an incognito field capable of shielding the village from the amount of attention she's anticipating would guarantee a breach, and it wouldn't be a small one. If she lit off every tree in here...

It would be bad. Real bad.

I fall silent as we approach the serving table. Tonight's meal is Mushroom Surprise, a medley of different fungal varieties and vegetables sauteed together in a shimmerfruit reduction, the resulting concoction ladled into a darkfern bread bowl, and normally I love it, but not tonight. I listlessly grab a bowl and find a table for the three of us.

"So what can we do, then?" I ask, picking at my meal and barely tasting it. MacWillie is digging in with gusto, though not quite as much as Huckens, who's shoveling food down his throat like he hasn't eaten since breakfast.

He hasn't. Your cat stole his lunch.

silence, stupid food

Pete pokes some holes in Box, but I ignore their bickering. MacWillie finishes her bite and regards me critically.

"Well, the earlier we get the incognito field up and running, the larger our margin for error. Incogs work off showing people what they expect to see, and then they move on. The more attention they pay to something, the more likely they are to spot the bits that are off, and then the field falls apart."

"Then I need to go get those parts." I push my chair back, nearly untouched Mushroom Surprise still steaming in front of me. "Box doesn't care if it's day or night. Just tell me what to look for."

"Hold up, hold up," MacWillie puts her spoon down, alarmed. "We don't know what kind of creepy-crawlies are lurking around the wreck of the Old Man's ship, especially that bit hanging from the mountain. The more non-causal the environment, the nastier the violation, and that hulk's got me itching all over. It'd be much better if you recovered a molecular forge first so your integrator can fashion you some proper weaponry."

"But we don't have time," I growl, leaning down towards her. "You said it yourself, the quicker we get that incognito field up and running, the safer the village will be. I'm going to get those parts, now."

"You don't know what you're looking for, and you haven't even eaten yet," MacWillie says, almost helplessly. "What's the rush?" I use a limb to transfer the Mushroom Surprise to my non-causal storage and step away from the table, ignoring the flickers of distress from the few villagers who happened to be looking my way.

"Send it to Box, I'll eat on the way, and my rush is that I thought my village was going to be safe and now you told me it isn't."

"You're probably going to get yourself killed," Huckens casually adds, lifting another spoonful to his mouth, and it's the last straw.

"Then I'll take that risk," I snarl, snatching the remains of his bread bowl and adding it to my storage. "Thanks for the biomass."

I turn and sprint away from the table, a blast of wind and startled shouts accompanying my departure. In deference to the rest of the village, I wait until I'm away from the populated areas to use my limbs and dashes so I can really speed up. A new sensation appears in my tiny, safe infonet room, an anomaly I can't resolve. I grit my teeth and accelerate even more.

I have the schematics, but I don't like this course of action, Sky. It seems hasty and ill-thought out. MacWillie is right, with a molecular forge I could-

"I don't care, Box." Trees flash past, and then I'm out of the forest and into the foothills, Fishhook's distant peak locked into the center of my vision. "I need to keep the village safe, and the quicker that field is set up, the safer they are. We have three weapons now. We'll be fine."

The next two hours pass in silence, Box and I flying across the darkening foothills in staccato pulses, my vision adjusting to the loss of light as the sun dips below the jagged horizon. I let Box absorb the Mushroom Surprises for our biomass stores. My stomach is too tight to eat.

Stars begin to twinkle above when we arrive at the ruined base of Fishhook, scattered boulders and debris rising above folds of twisted earth and stone. I can see the pinned wreckage of the cruiser silhouetted against the scattered dots, an oddity trapped by an aberration. Without a word, I start bounding up the slope, limbs catapulting me in vaulting leaps, strategic dashes bypassing smaller obstacles.

Sky, we should approach cautiously. There is no telling what kind of violations the Entity left in its wake.

I ignore Box, my attention fully on summiting the shortened mountain as quickly as possible. The sooner I get the parts back to MacWillie and Huckens, the sooner the village is protected.

Thick scrub and brush gives way to rocky slopes covered in sheets of snow and ice, Fishhook hanging overhead like a scythe, the decapitated cruiser's head gleaming on its tip. My limbs scale the slippery surfaces as easily as dirt and grass, punching through the frozen water to grab the rock beneath.

Sky-

I dash forward, finding a narrow groove that runs along the impossibly curved mountaintop's side like a blood channel, offering just enough purchase to keep me from tumbling to the distant slopes below. Cold air surrounds me in nearly all directions, the closest I've ever been to tasting the sky. I scuttle towards the cruiser, its broken mass growing closer and closer.

...

I vault from the chilled rock to the massive shape now hovering below me, impaled against the cruelly hooked point of the mountain. My limbs absorb the impact, silvery metal ringing slightly as I land, and I look around for an entrance. The front of the cruiser's wreck is a tapering wedge, narrowest at the nose trapped in Fishhook's hollow, widening out to splayed guts of wires and beams spilling out in frozen waterfalls at the hulk's broader end.

A high pitched whirring sounds from the surface of the cruiser, and six cylinders pop up around me, their interiors a disgusting mess of melded flesh and metal. They spit writhing maggots at me, rainbow trails flashing behind the bloated shapes.

Current Life: 689/700

I slap away the one slug that managed to make it past my kukri, dashing it to the ground in an explosion of noxious fluids. The CRACK of my pistol and rifle echo out in irregularly regular intervals. The cylinders vibrate, then burst in wet ropes of entrails, but more are rising all around.

Current Life: 623/700

Executing NothingPersonnel.exe

Executing HipDraw.exe

Current Energy: 155/210

I shriek at the stupid boxes demanding my attention as cylinders are obliterated in a vast swathe. I don't care. I need to get those components to protect the village. More maggots undulate towards me.

dash

Current Life: 579/70-

"I don't care, Box!"

The numbers disappear, and I finally find a hole in the cruiser's outer skin, a claustrophobic penetration into the depths below. Without hesitation, I leap into it, trusting my limbs to see me safely to whatever bottom it holds. Faces accompany my descent - Wires, Great Grandpa, Broom, Dirt, Torch, Window, all the villagers and little ones I know and love. I'm the only thing standing between them and death.

I glide to a halt on some sort of metal plating, shapes crawling out of the darkness all around me.

CRACK CRACK CRACK

dash

Current Li-

I smash my way through the torrent of abuse, not caring what wreckage I leave on myself or others. I can take it. I won't let anyone else die like Wires, cut apart by forces beyond his control.

Curren-

A piece of the surroundings flashes green and I absorb it into my storage without thinking. One component down. Three left. The space around me is nothing but tendrils and claws and terror.

Curr-

I rain destruction from contradictory angles, bending space and time like a blade of grass between my fingers. I will not be stopped. Another component collected.

C-

An amalgamation of greasy clouds looms over me, filling the entire path. Chittering legs scrape along its edges, a saw-toothed orchestra playing the notes of pain. Red threat warnings appear around me like a mad god's glare.

dash

A nightmare descends and-

Executing BugOut.exe

I hope this works-