Fig Melcam just wanted to go his own way. He first left Izanami to get out from under the ruling AIs and their corpo masters, but out there wasn’t any better. His disappointment was palpable; that same corpo flotsam he wanted to avoid never veered away from the surface. He moved a lot, jumped from planet to planet, colony to colony, and found some like-minded individuals too.
Gab was 6 feet tall and 5 feet wide. What he lacked in self-care he made up in smarts; the man could fix or build anything. Gorgeous was one hell of a cook and cultivator; her large arms and thick meaty hands betrayed her deft handling of knives and cookware. Sully made everyone laugh; early on, it became clear that it was all they were suitable for, but it could be worse. Nothing wrong with a bit of levity.
More joined until they were 12 strong, but they kept running into typical civilization and started running out of habitable areas they could call their own until they reached the Bubble’s edge. No one went farther unless they were bored or brave. Fig’s little family was a mixture of both. They found a small uncharted rock, kept warm by being close enough to an aging red dwarf, the only two stellar objects in the system.
They made landfall and got to work on an outpost of their own. Over time, they managed to be self-sustaining. Eventually, they were able to make some money trading within the Bubble. Now? Fig sighed heavily and kicked a discarded ear of corn away from his feet. Their warehouse was a complete wreck.
“God damn her,” he spat. An entire pack of crates, a month’s worth of storage, lay toppled before him. Fig closed his eyes, counted to twenty, and left the vast room. He entered the general store they had set up together. Frazer—new kid; hard worker—was busy righting toppled over aisles.
He and Fig locked eyes briefly, and they shared a nod. Beyond the aisles, the register sat atop a long dark blue countertop. That shimmered under the overhead lamps and almost looked like it was moving. Stools that formally complimented the counter were tossed around all across the store. Gorgeous was behind the counter, sweeping debris off the flat-top griddle. Fig grabbed a couple of toppled stools and set them in their rightful place before taking a seat himself. He nibbled at the dented countertop with the edge of his pinky.
Gorgeous stopped what she was doing and braced her massive hands against the skillet, sighing. “What’re we gunna do, Fig?” She asked without looking back.
“I don’t rightly,” and a small ding from a bell had interrupted him. The bell hung above the main entrance; someone had entered the shop. Stunned, both Gorgeous and Fig turned to look. A stranger in their midst, now of all days? What now, damn it? Fig couldn’t help it; they didn’t need this right now.
The Stranger was petite and wore a gray hooded cloak that covered them up to their knees. They pulled off their hood as they approached the counter, revealing a thick mane of red hair and a youthful face. The Stranger whistled, sat down, and drummed their hands across the counter.
“Hi!” The Stranger said, all smiles. “You guys…open?” Gorgeous and Fig looked at each other briefly and sighed almost simultaneously. Fig just put his head down at the counter and started praying for a short death.
“Do we look open to you?” Gorgeous said curtly and emphasized, with her eyes, that the Stranger should take another look around. The Stranger did and returned her gaze toward Gorgeous’ while nodding.
“Well, the door was open,” the Stranger tapped their fingers against the countertop again before leaning in closer as if to share a secret. “I’ve heard you all make the best shepherd’s pie in the galaxy. The. Galaxy.”
The Stranger leaned back, pleased. Gorgeous folded her thick muscular arms and sneered. She took a step closer toward the counter and away from the griddle. Gorgeous slapped the palm of her hand against the top, and The Stranger jumped slightly.
“And?!” she bellowed.
“I gotta have some!” the Stranger said quickly, holding their hands up. “Best in the whole galaxy? If anyone can prove that claim, you’re looking at her!” The Stranger smiled again.
“It’s all gone. Are you blind?” Fig had finally had enough. “Madame Ditto rolled up, beat most of us, and cleaned us all out, okay? So no, sorry, there’s no pie to be had, but—let me be clear—it IS the best in the whole damn galaxy!” Exasperated, Fig threw his head back down on his arms and resumed his lust for death.
“Who’s Madame Ditto?” The Stranger asked.
“The worst of the worst, girlie,” Gorgeous replied. “Lissen, sorry we can’t serve a customer and all that, but we got a lot of work to do. So.”
“Well, what if I got your stuff back for you?” The Stranger smiled again.
“We can’t afford another bounty hunter, no thanks.” Fig didn’t even bother to lift his head to say this.
“Oh,” the Stranger stood and replaced the hood over her head. “I’m no bounty hunter. All I ask is for a bowl of that good stuff, alright? Where can I find this person?”
Fig’s head slowly rose from its position, and he and Gorgeous locked eyes briefly. A silent understanding passed between them; the situation was weird but did they have anything more to lose? Fig sat straight and spun around on the stool to face the Stranger; she was almost at the door.
“Jo-Jo,” he said. “She’s got the whole place to herself. Say, what’s your name?”
The Stranger didn’t look back. As she opened the door and left, she only said, “Roxanne.”
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“I hate this game.”
Roxanne sighed and moved her pawn forward a space. Azonne, her companion, sat across from her, hand gently placed upon her chin. She glanced up at Roxanne, shook her head, and considered her next move. The mind palace today was a sandy shore off coastal Izanami islands. Roxanne was in a plain black one-piece bathing suit with a floral sash wrapped around her tiny waist. She sat cross-legged in front of a beach towel, and on top was a chess board. Azonne, of course, was in neck-to-toe armor as usual.
“I love it,” she said and moved her knight. “There are so many variations, too; this one is not bad.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Roxanne said pensively. Her hand hovered over her knight for a second before she switched over to the bishop; she moved it as far as she was legally able. Virtual waves cascaded inward; a screen outside into the real world hovered above them. Out there was the planet Jo-Jo, glowing a reddish yellow against the backdrop of black nothingness and stellar constellations. With such thick red and yellow clouds wrapped around it, Jo-Jo looked like the head of a lit match.
Azonne studied the board a second too long for Roxanne’s liking, so she leaned back on her hands and stared at the fake sky. Despite it all, despite how long it has been, she still found how real it felt terrific. She squeezed her fingers deep into the sand and smiled. It wasn’t home, true, but it did the job decently.
Still…
“I miss home,” she said.
“But you miss Shephard’s Pie more, it seems. Speaking of, Grandmother called.”
“Did she leave a message?”
“You know she didn’t,” Azonne tabbed at her Queen and moved it closer to Roxanne’s side. “Checkmate. You know she prefers that you call back.”
Roxanne stared at the board, confused, shocked. Though not that shocked, she sucked at this game anyway. Roxanne huffed dramatically and wiped the board away with her hand sending the pieces flying until they became nothing. She stood up and curled her toes into the sand while she brought up a screen in front of her. Three dots cascaded across the center while she waited.
Eventually, grandmother Millie appeared. She was squinting and quickly put on her glasses; she beamed.
“Roxanne! It’s so good to see that face, sunshine!”
“Hi, Grams; I’ve missed you.”
“I’ve missed you too, sunshine; when are you coming home? It’s been three months, and your boss is asking for you.”
Roxanne blushed and grimaced. “What-why? The whole reason I got that thing is, so I had the freedom I need to do, well, this?” She waved her hands around her emphatically. In the background, Azonne waved. Grandmother caught sight of the construct and waved back.
“3 months is a lot to ask, hun.”
“I’ll hit them up when I get back,” Roxanne sighed.
“Or, you could leave a message now? Couldn’t hurt, right?”
“I GUESS,” and Roxanne stuck her tongue out. Millie was her anchor to real life, free from the balance, just a regular person living life the best they could without the threat of constant cosmic horror on every horizon. No matter how far away this job carried her, it helped to know that she had a home back on the ground.
“You said something about being back, hm? When are you thinking?”
“Um,” Roxanne twisted her torso and looked toward the large screen broadcasting Jo-Jo. “Tell you what,” she said as she returned her gaze toward Millie. “Once I’m done out here, I’ll swing back home. I miss you. I miss Sam, Corina—Gresh help me, I miss that stupid job. Can’t promise when, but it’ll be soon, okay?”
“Yay!” Millie squealed. “I’ll be sure to stock up on your favorites!”
“Grams…”
“Nope! Too late, I’ve already set things in motion.” She pressed her fingertips together and squinted.
“You’re ridiculous, and I love you.” A red exclamation point hovered in the right-hand corner of the screen, and Roxanne looked over at Azonne, who was by the bigger screen. The beach around them melted away and gave way to Roxanne’s mind palace apartment. The sandy beach transformed into tile floors and red couches while the big screen anchored itself to the wall. “Hey, I gotta go, gramma! Bye, love you; see you soon-ish!” Roxanne closed the screen and chuckled to herself as she approached Azonne.
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“She’s here?” Roxanne asked.
“She’s here.”
Roxanne’s orange armor crystalized around her in an instant. She shut her eyes as energy waves cascaded across her body and woke her synaptic reflexes. She was floating 200 light seconds away from Jo-Jo when she opened them again. Her hard light aura flared up, and she took off toward the planet.
“Then let’s get her.”
Roxanne broke through the thick ammonia atmosphere in a manner of seconds. Heavy winds rocked her outer shell and caused turbulence, while massive droplets of acid rain disintegrated upon contact. Poisonous fog obscures her vision temporarily until she switches to a red wavelength. She banked upward, narrowly missed a mountain, and then split the rain-soaked sky.
I have an energy signature. It is way too high for such a barren place.
Roxanne whistled softly in agreement. The flooded plain was filled with toxic acid and besieged by savage winds; nothing came from here. Nothing could ever be born here. Deadly fumes whipped into frenzied matter-melting cyclones that Roxanne dodged. Ahead, a waypoint appeared and marked her destination.
She came across a structure shaped like a 3D decagon flat on its side and half buried in the soil. Roxanne scanned the superstructure and located the main entrance. She splashed down in front and displaced the murky ground. Wafts of noxious fog swirled around her aura and evaporated upon contact. Heat signatures on the inside tell her there are at least four people inside moving around.
“Well, should we knock?” The ring on her right hand sparked.
Yes, let’s.
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The first time Maddie Pilodox created a copy of herself was the best day of her life. A friend, finally, someone who looked just like her to boot. Well, almost. This one had a scar across their cheek, but other than that, they may as well have been sisters. The copy went away overnight. The following morning, Maddie tried again, and another came through; this one had blonde hair instead of her black.
16-year-old Maddie didn’t care how this was possible, aside from the fact this meant she was an OverHuman. As she got older, she started producing more than one copy at a time, but never more than two. At first, for childish tricks, like being in two places at once and things of that nature. But as she got older…well, her attitude turned toward the mischievous. 17-year-old Maddie had earned herself a private cot at the jail of the local sheriff’s station, typically for being a public nuisance. It wasn’t until she was 19 that her life really turned.
You see, this one copy wasn’t exactly like her. It was meaner, darker. The punk rock version of who she wished she could be. Maddie liked that version of her. They became close enough that Dark Mads didn’t vanish daily like the others. Eventually, the two sussed out what Maddies true power was:
She wasn’t duplicating herself. She was pulling in variants of herself from parallel universes.
With this knowledge, the two started getting more daring and bold. They pulled in other like-minded dupes and pulled off the largest credit robbery in Izanami history. How they pulled this off is still taught in law enforcement classes to this day, but they all missed the big picture. What the Maddies’ had pulled off was unique to them and would not be replicated.
More significant than ever, Maddie Pilodox became Madame Ditto, the One Woman Crime Syndicate. They became known far and wide as daring thieves, absconding with billion credits’ worth of valuables and analog paper money (still worth big bucks in the right circles). One job came across their desk; it was supposed to be simple. A schematic for an all-new BleedEngine, easy peasy, they were told. They knew that was bull; when you had a gimmick, all the rules went out the window. Still, the Maddies figured the schematics would be worth the biggest haul they’d ever seen. What it would do for their rep outweighed the risks of getting that kind of reputation.
Plus, they were the best of the best; the chance to pull this job off perfectly was exciting in and of itself. Unfortunately, this was the heist that got the attention of Captain Steel, a legendary hero and protector of humanity.
Their life changed forever.
All 6 foot 5 of his monstrous, muscular frame filled their sphere of influence while they stood stupefied. The Maddies were milliseconds away from grabbing their hands on this new tech, and here was this lunkhead to stop them. His stupid grin set them off as nothing else had. It was a burley brawl, one v. 50, but the Maddies still lost. The experimental bleed engine had been damaged in the melee, making the entire scene chaotic.
The Maddies vanished in the aftermath, as did Captain Steel. He was found light years away, no worse for the wear. The Maddies? They were never found but got blasted farther than Captain Steel had by at least an extra 20,000 light years. There, Madam Ditto realized that she had absorbed all her copies, becoming a singular version of them. Utterly humiliated and defeated, Ditto laid low to lick her wounds.
She set up a small hideout on the formally uncharted Jo-Jo and appreciated the solitude after so many years of galavanting with herself. It was here where she realized she could still pull in variants to her. Initially excited for the company, her heart sank when it became clear she had unfettered control over the doppel. Their individualism re-written to Maddie-Prime (as she thought of herself), the dupes all acted as one beholden only to her whims. She kept busy by expanding her home base and dipping their toes back in public-facing waters. She was scared of being re-discovered. The last thing she ever wanted was to run into that meathead and his ilk ever again.
As her control over the dupes grew stronger, Madame Ditto vowed never to be in that situation a second time. She kept her activities local to the Bubble’s edge, never straying too far in. Jo-Jo was located in a No Person’s Land that no law or hero ever thought to touch. Ditto sent out her dupes and unofficially claimed the planet’s sector for herself. Any intrepid explorers that entered her sphere of influence were fair game, and Ditto made sure to have her fun. They robbed these people blind and left them to rot; getting home was their problem, not Ditto’s. Those who managed to come back to the edge always had one thing to say:
Stay away from Jo-Jo.
Free from external influences, Ditto began all sorts of new side hustles. Trafficking, Racketeering, extortion, kidnapping, cybercrime; you name it, there was a Ditto behind it. Occasionally she committed low-stakes heists to get them out of her system. With so many dupes and different sets running separate aspects of her budding empires, it was almost child’s play.
The Bubble’s edge all but outright belonged to her. She returned to her base tonight satisfied over another job well done and let her Ditto’s unload the latest haul. Four doppelgangers transferred boxes from her ship to a conveyor belt that led to storage below. Maddie moved to her private domicile, satisfied the dupes had it handled. However, she heard a loud explosion and rushed back toward the main warehouse.
She skidded to a stop at the rafters and saw someone surrounded by yellow energy reseal the entrance they had smashed through.
“Knock knock,” the redheaded Stranger said.
“Can I help you?” Maddie saw the armor the Stranger wore and cursed her luck; how did another one of those find her? She felt her bravery get stuck in her throat while her chest tightened. How could one of them be here now?
“Fig’s people want you to leave them alone.”
Maddie almost laughed. Fig Melcam was the ultimate loser; the fact that this hero was here on his behalf made this situation a farce.
“Fig Melcam?” Maddie said between laughs. “Do you even know who that is, little one?” She said and commanded the four dittos to attack the hero. One by one, the copies were trounced as the Stranger redirected their attacks and pacified them with skillful dodges and timed blocks. Maddie sighed.
“If all they want is for me to leave them alone,” she said. “Then fine, I’ll stop bothering them!” The tension in her neck was overwhelming. This one was going to ruin everything; Ditto was sure of it. She started rubbing her thumb against her knuckle repeatedly. The Stranger studied their surroundings and tightened the bands around their gloves.
“Hmm, don’t think that’s a good idea,” the Stranger said. “I’ve done some reading. Honestly, you probably deserve a cell somewheres.”
Maddie scoffed as more versions of herself entered the room, “That’s not happening.” Madame Ditto seethed; these damn heroes always think they know what’s best. After the last time, she promised herself that she would never lose again. 8 different Ditto’s surrounded the Stranger and cracked their knuckles simultaneously.
“You guys fans of Shepherd’s Pie?” The Stranger’s voice was light, almost amused. “I’d do anything to try the galaxy’s best.”
Madame Ditto sneered, “It’s average at best!” Two of her Ditto’s sprung to action and grabbed the Stranger at each shoulder. They slipped free by wriggling loose of their cloak and dropping down to sweep the dupes off their feet. The moves happened so fast that the other replicas punched uselessly at the empty shawl; the armored redhead had already rolled free of the grouping when they realized what’s happened.
Four sets of hands are blocked and swatted away with ease and finesse. The redhead was making her Ditto’s look foolish. The petite brawler pirouetted between roundhouse kicks and answered back in kind with a few of her own. Maddie slammed her hand on the railing and whispered:
“More.”
Side doors into the warehouse slam open, and miles of Maddies piled in, messy and eager like a mudslide. The redhead produced a whip made of hard light and spun it deftly to keep a buffer of space between her and the hoard. Two came at the redhead and paid for that with their teeth. Another grabbed her from behind, and the Maddie mob collectively licked their lips. Another doppel closed in. The redhead pushed off it with an energy pulse and rocketed backward with the Ditto on her back. The pair split the riot in half; bodies toppled over one another in the limited space.
The armored redhead’s hands glowed. Maddie could taste the ozone that the crackling energy left in the air. Plasma cut through the room and disintegrated a solid chunk of the herd; Madam Ditto’s jaw clenched. Frozen in fear, she could only think two words: STOP. HER. The remaining Maddies converged on the redhead, devoid of any sense of safety or self-preservation.
Another dollop of the mass ceases to exist in a flash of light. Beads of sweat pool on Madam Ditto’s brow as she asks for and receives more copies to flood the floor. A throng finally sideswipes the redhead, and the remaining accumulation swarms her like ants after cookie crumbs. Maddie gripped the railing tighter; her facial muscles stretched, and her panicked grimace became a grin.
Maddie ran.
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Roxanne suffocated under the mass of Maddies and exhaled air out of her nose. She let the energy output rise from inside and expended it; another section of duplicates turned ash. Rox forced herself above the piles and spied Maddam Ditto, making her way to an exit.
“Oh no, you don’t,” she whispered and spun in a concentric circle. White hot energy spit on her radius’s outer edges, destroying more doppels and giving her room to breathe. Roxanne bounded away from the remaining hoard and landed where Madam Ditto had been. She pushed the closing door open and gave chase. After a lengthy hallway, Roxanne entered another hangar, home to a large ship. Madam Ditto ran inside, and it powered up.
The engines fired and opened a gate into the Bleed; Roxanne covered her eyes as it closed shut so she wouldn’t go blind. Seconds later, she opened her own.
“Track it!” she shouted.
Trying.
The red pulsating membrane of the Bleed enveloped her. Friction tried and failed to keep her in place while Roxanne chased. She gained on the object and implored upon her synaptic nerves for just a bit more power.
Everything stopped.
The Bleed tore and revealed real space. Roxanne vibrated violently inside her hard-light aura; she felt like she had hit a brick wall. Moments later, the din stopped, and her physical body ceased spinning in place. Ejected from the Bleed and back into the real world, Roxanne inhaled deeply. Azonne answered the unasked:
I am unsure what sector of the galaxy this is.
Roxanne decided to scan using her human optics; sector stars were massive and typically visible to the naked eye. It was dark. As if the only light that existed came from her own body. Roxanne’s skin felt alive; subatomic particles danced and felt like roiling water as she expected the worst.
There; look!
In the distance was a sliver of red light. It vanished as quickly as it appeared, and Roxanne switched her vision to gamma radiation. The system’s star became visible, and so did the object that hugged it. From here, it was a translucent worm with wiggling rainbow stalks dancing on its carapace. Radiation from the star siphoned from the celestial sphere and into the creature until there was no light anymore.
“What is that?” the words flowed from Roxanne’s lips, but she couldn’t be sure if she had actually said them. Red lights flashed suddenly. Outlines from the worm’s carapace pulsated and grew more prominent with every passing second. Roxanne held her breath.
A sun eater.
Switching to ultraviolet, Roxanne tracked the enormous mass headed toward her. Her synaptic memories clawed for a lifeline and found themselves stranded. As the creature drew closer, she counted every pore and saw them slathered in stardust. Quickly, Roxanne fired a beam of solid light above her head and forcefully opened a massive gate into the Bleed. Momentum carried, the worm slid into the Bleed’s membrane. A tiny scream pierced Roxanne’s COMM system before she shut the gate.
“The hell?” She said, panting. “Everything told me they were extinct.”
‘Were’ being operative; I fear that—
“Stop,” Roxanne said, holding her hand up. “I’ll think about that later.”
Fine.
“Let’s just head back to Jo-Jo and get Fig’s stuff, okay?”
Azonne simply sent a thumb’s up. Roxanne opened a new gate into the Bleed with visions of anthropomorphic Shepherd’s Pie dancing across her cerebellum.