She turned toward Tara who sat by herself on a small couch, smiling, but with nothing in her hands, relaxed but ready.

Taking everything into account, she said, “I think it’s time to place all of our cards on the table. I’m here because I’m worried about my parents and Amanda. When I left my father implied that I should be ready for anything when I came back, including reclaiming the family’s throne.”

Turning to Tara, she said, “A year before I left, my father sent me here to go to school, but it wasn’t any school. It was a school for children of nobility. Officially, it taught statecraft. It also taught espionage. Madeline was my mentor. My father supervises the empire’s intelligence service and had the same in mind for me since Amanda would rule.”

Catching Madeline’s eye, she added, “I’ve spent the last six years training in magic and fighting with plenty of practical experience using both. Tara went to the same school as I did, but she didn’t learn magic, just fighting. She’s very good at it.”

Tara raised her hand, “I know a little magic. Just a touch. I took the required course.”

Knowing how little magic that course included, Amy let the comment go. Instead, she asked Madeline, “What do you know about my family? Are they well? Are they free?”

Madeline’s brow furrowed. “I don’t know. When I was training you, your father would send blood messengers to ask about your progress, but he hasn’t since you left. I see photographs of your mother and father in newspapers and of course, your father’s messages to the intelligence staff continue to appear. I’ve seen accounts of your mother’s speeches in newspapers, but I don’t have any direct communication with them.”

“But,” she continued, her voice raising, “I have seen your sister. She flew across the channel to fight some of the Elders’ creatures and killed the last of them here in Paris itself. We were all called out to control the crowds and offer support, if necessary. That was just three weeks ago.”

“Good,” Amy said. “How did she do? Does she have full control of her abilities? There’s nothing off about them?”

Eyes narrowing, Madeline asked, “Should there be something wrong with them?”

Amy shook her head. “No. I’ve been worrying about her because of, well, me. The original version of the Bloodmaiden wasn’t supposed to come back. The Bloodlords’ Council locked it away, but we know what happened. What else could be wrong?”

With a slow nod of her head, Madeline said, “You’re not the only one who worried. The Bloodlords’ Council brought in the ‘court assassin,’ William Harcourt to help train her—“

“Harcourt?” Amy almost choked on the bite of cheese and bread she’d just taken. “He and his wife Agnus went to the other Earth with me. He was a terrible teacher. I wouldn’t wish him on anyone and especially not Amanda.”

Madeline’s eyes widened. “I had no idea. The newspaper reports made it sound as if he would be perfect. He’s been alive for nearly 600 years and so he’s taught several Bloodmaidens, both of the new and old line.”

“Really?” Amy stood up and walked over to the window, staring down at the street. “It’s good to know he taught someone something. He had a manual for training the old line of Bloodmaidens. He used it, but he used it to slow me down. He’d pull out exercises from it for material I knew already and told me it came from a different angle than newer training methods. When he gave me new material, he stayed with it long past the point I’d mastered it… What did you think of my blood magic skills when you were my mentor?”

Madeline placed her hand next to her chin and frowned, saying nothing at first, but then replying, “You’d mastered the fundamentals. I didn’t think you were a prodigy, but you were far ahead of most students your age.”

“Right,” Amy said, stepping back from the window and standing to the side of it. “Amanda and I had the best tutors my parents could find. Harcourt tried to convince me I’d learned bad habits and we needed to start from the beginning. I wouldn’t. I told him I’d teach myself if he wouldn’t teach me anything useful. We compromised and I worked with him until I found someone better.”

“Oh,” Madeline let out a breath. “I didn’t know. When I saw Amanda fight, I didn’t see any signs that she’d been sabotaged. She fought like a master. He must…”

She trailed off and Amy nodded. “He must have been deliberately sabotaging me. We all know why, but it was stupid. The past Bloodmaidens include some of the most powerful and innovative blood sorcerers in history. I can talk to them any time I want and they’re happy to help. All his interference could do is make me angry.”

She shook her head. “I can only guess what lies he’s been feeding her and everyone else about me. Let’s ignore Harcourt for a moment. What were you going to say about her training when I interrupted you?”

Madeline placed her glass of wine on the table and walked over to Amy, stopping next to her and the window. “Only that Harcourt was one of a few tutors. No one found anything different from her powers and other Bloodmaidens of her line. They’ve been training her hard. They’re expecting you to come back and try to take the throne… Oh.”

Madeline’s eyes widened as she stared down at the street. “I don’t like this.”

Amy turned around, peering around a long red curtain to follow Madeline’s gaze. Dressed in red and black uniforms were three men and one woman. Amy didn’t need to guess what the symbol on their right breast would be—a chevron dividing three crows. She’d worn it herself.

“That’s my supervisor,” Madeline said. “I don’t know why she’d be here. You know the house. You should hide.”

The trill of a bell sounded from below.

Amy turned back toward Tara to find her already standing and asking, “Should I see if Nick can pull us out?”

As Madeline started walking out of the room, Amy shook her head. “We only just got here. Besides, you heard him. He might not be able to pull us out in time or at all. I have another idea, but I’ll need a little of your blood.”

She pulled out a pin from the pocket of her jacket.

The rhythms of their music and glow of the neon lights called for everyone’s attention and received it. Crowds stood outside the dancehalls and tables outside the cafes appeared to be full.

Amy didn’t remember so many people or so much noise the last time she’d been here. She told Tara, “This way,” and led her into a cramped alley barely wider than a person.

Next to them rose a four story house. Made of stone, the lowest story held up three more with walls that were framed with wood and filled with plaster. Amy knew it was one of the oldest in the district.

Madeline’s family had owned it since the Middle Ages. If she wasn’t there, someone should know where she was, even if their servants were the only residents now.

Amy hoped so, anyway.

Set almost a foot into the stone wall, the metal door wasn’t original. The last time Amy had been here, it had been wood. Most of this one had been painted red, but with intricate black painted vines and flowers protecting the windows in the upper half and decorating the edges.

She reached out and knocked, hearing it boom.

It didn’t open at first and she wondered if she should risk sensing for Madeline with blood magic.

Tara tapped her on the shoulder. “She’s coming.”

Amy didn’t ask how she knew, but wasn’t surprised when the door opened, putting her face to face with Madeline for the first time in six years.

An inch or two taller than Amy, Madeline had blond hair and a long face with a ruddy complexion. She wore a simple blue dress, but with the black and red sash that signified her status as a blood sorcerer.

Her eyes widened as she saw Amy and waved them in, shutting the door behind them. Taking another look out the window, she then turned her head back to the two of them. “Amy, you’re alive!”

Madeline leaned in and kissed her cheeks. Amy did the same.

Amy could have broken into tears then, but didn’t, flashing back to her year in Paris. She’d been so much younger then and it was the first time she’d been so long without her twin sister.

They stepped back from each other and Amy said, “So are you. I hope we’re not putting you at risk. We can go at any time.”

Madeline shook her head. “No. You must stay. My family’s at the main estate. Except for my maid and the cook, the house is empty. We have space for both you and your servant.”

Amy felt that she could melt with relief. “Thank you. She’s not really a servant. This is my friend Tara. She’s here to help, but we thought it best that she appeared to be a servant.”

Madeline smiled. “Of course. You are your father’s daughter. Tara, you’re welcome in my family’s house as well. Leave the suitcases here. I’ll have the maid bring them after she prepares rooms for you. Have you eaten? I can arrange something simple. Cook has gone home for the night, so it will be quite simple, I’m afraid.”

Amy smiled. “We haven’t eaten, but where we came from it wasn’t even noon. We’ve had breakfast.”

Madeline blinked. “I can see we’re going to have stories to exchange. Let’s go upstairs.”

After a look at Amy and seeing Amy’s nod, Tara let go of the suitcases. “Thank you. I’m grateful to be here.”

Madeline led them away and after walking up a narrow wooden staircase, they found themselves in sitting room Amy remembered from visiting years ago-comfortable couches, white and gold painted walls, a fireplace, and windows that looked down on the street and out onto Paris at night.

Madeline walked into another room, coming back with a plate of cheese, bread, and smoked sausage and a bottle of wine.

After placing it on a table, she sat down in a chair. “There’s more if we eat it all. Now, where have you been?”

Amy let out a breath. “Literally another world, one like ours but very different. If I tried to explain how different, we’d be here for hours, maybe days. My father arranged it.”

“Another world?” Madeline poured glasses of wine for each of them. “How? Was it magic?”

Accepting a glass, Amy said, “I don’t think so. How much do you want to know?”

Madeline frowned. “Since it has to do with your father, I shouldn’t know anything I’m not cleared for, but these are strange times. What do you know about what’s been going on since you left?”

“Nothing,” Amy said. “You’re the first person I’ve talked to except for the coachman we hired to bring us here.”

Madeline stared. “A coachman? Was there any reason to think he was more than a coachman? Any hint of blood magic?”

Amy shook her head. “No. I haven’t used magic since I got back and I didn’t sense that he was a practitioner.”

Nodding along, Madeline said, “Good. Something went wrong when you left. We don’t know what, but monsters began to appear again like they did when the Elders ruled. Some of the Bloodlords think that it’s you.”

Amy groaned, understanding all of it in an instant.

Tara put down her glass of wine. “I’m sorry. I’m not from here. Who are the Elders and what does Amy have to do with monsters?”

Ignoring the voices in the back of her head, all of whom had their own questions, Amy said, “The Elders are living vampires. They came through portals and brought creatures with them that they used to conquer the entire world.

“Sometimes when there were twin Bloodmaidens, they’d be used by different factions in the empire or simply be rivals for the throne. A few weren’t above using the Elders’ creatures as allies.”

The voices didn’t stop shouting questions. Amy could hear pairs of twins arguing with each other even now.

“Precisely,” Madeline said, sitting up in her chair, one of her hands clasped over the other, but not quite hiding a dim red glow from her ring. “You aren’t planning to try for the throne, are you?”

“What?” Amy glanced toward the ring. “You know me. I don’t want the throne. I want it even less now than when I left.”

She could feel the past Bloodmaidens growing louder. Most cautioned her to wait, but a few loud voices shouted that she should stab Madeline, absorb her memories, and know where her loyalties truly lay.

Madeline let out a breath and the glow of her ring faded. “Good. You know I had to ask. Six years is a long time and my loyalty is to the crown.”

Her eyes lingered on the puppet.

She knew the pink-accented, white armor and the features of the woman inside it. She’d seen Amanda manifest that version of the Bloodmaiden on their mutual birthday only a few minutes before she’d manifested her own.

She remembered the screams. The celebration of the heir’s (and the spare’s) coming-of-age stopped there as people ran for the exits, calling for help. None of her immediate family had been in the capital 200 years ago when Hildagar had killed the main branch of the royal family, but some of the staff, politicians and other guests had.

The only reason Amy hadn’t ended up fighting her own family’s guards was that her father begged her to change back and Winifred, the first Bloodmaiden, had shown her how. She’d practically done it for her, saving her life.

Letting go of the memory, Amy forced herself to focus on the present even as she wondered what sort of events would lead to that sort of political commentary.

“We should get a cab,” she said. “Oh, and we should talk in Imperial whenever possible. It’s the Brythonic Empire’s common tongue.”

Tara replied, “Yes, my lady,” in a tone that would have passed for a respectful servant anywhere in the Empire. The grin and a wink that went along with it did not, Amy noted, convey the same respect, but she knew Tara would perform the role.

Amy waved down the next carriage that passed. After a short negotiation with the driver on the cost, they stepped inside.

The coachman, a short balding man whose black top hat and thick greatcoat made him more imposing than he might have been said, “You’re from the Northern Islands. What do you think of the new chancellor? Do you think he’ll be able to handle the Empire’s troubles? These are unusual times.”

He asked Amy, though his eyes lingered on Tara for a moment.

Amy controlled a smile, realizing one benefit of taking Tara along might be that no one paid attention to her. She answered, “It remains to be seen. We can only hope.”

He nodded. “Yes. That’s all we can do. We should have known that when the first Bloodmaiden reappeared that it was an omen. I don’t know what they should have done then, but the second twin, Amelia, disappeared. No one knows if they killed her or if she’s behind it all.”

Controlling an urge to ask what was going on, Amy took a breath and said, “It’s hard to know such things.”

Whatever was going on, she reminded herself, was common knowledge. It would be unusual to not know. Maybe she could keep him talking long enough to explain or maybe she should just buy a newspaper somewhere. 

“Very much true, madam,” the coachman said. “With that family’s history, anything is possible, but they should have expected a second Bloodmaiden. How many times hasn’t there been a second Bloodmaiden with twins? And how many times didn’t murder, invasions, and war follow?”

He shook his head. “I’ve heard people say they should have killed the second when she was born and not tell the Empress. I don’t think that’s right, but with all of the Northern Bloodlords’ power, it seems as though they could have done something.”

His eyes migrated toward her red and black sash and his eyes widened. “Not that I have any right to tell the Northern Bloodlords what to do. It’s just an opinion.”

“I agree,” Amy said. “They could have done more and could have done it better.”

“Thank you, madam, for listening to me babble. We’ll get you two there shortly.” Then he shut the carriage door, climbed up to his seat and taking the reins, commanded the horses to go.

With the sound of hooves and metal tire on the carriage wheels hitting the cobblestones in background, Amy caught Tara’s eye and shook her head.

Keeping her voice low, Tara said, “Poor man. He didn’t notice your sash until it was too late. Do you know what he was talking about?”

At the same volume, Amy responded, “Not at all. I’m going to buy a paper the first chance I get.”

Not having anything to talk about that she wanted to risk being overheard, Amy didn’t say any more. Tara nodded and looked out the window.

Traveling through the city at night, they passed apartment buildings, cafes, and clubs. The sounds of music and dancing reached the road.

Three different aetherships crossed the sky, two coming in, one leaving. Amy could only guess where they’d come from or where they might be going.

Tara pointed up at the ship that was leaving the planet. In the dark, only its trail of rainbow colored light remained visible. “Aethership?”

Amy nodded. “The Paris aetherport is the biggest on Earth. I don’t know whether they’re going to the Moon, Mars, or Venus. For all I know, they’re going on the Grand Tour.”

The coachman shouted at the horses and the carriage came to a stop. With a thump as his boots hit the ground, the coachman opened the door to the carriage.

“We’ve arrived.”

For a moment, Amy wondered if Nick had left them in someone’s courtyard, but then she noticed that the building to her left jutted out. Taking a couple steps further showed her that the alley continued for half a block, but that Nick had placed her where no one would see them appear.

Checking her surroundings, she didn’t see lights or faces in the windows either. She might be able to thank Daniel for that someday. She didn’t know that she was a fugitive from the government, but she didn’t know she wasn’t.

As she peered around the corner, she realized Tara stood next to her and to the right in full view of anyone looking down the alley, assuming they could see in the dark.

“Nick and Daniel did a great job. Let’s go! I can tell this city is amazing already.” Tara strode further into the alley, stepping across the cobblestones and a soggy piece of cardboard, a pile of garbage, and a smashed brown banana.

Amy quickened her pace, catching up with her in a few steps. “Hey, you remember what I said, we’re going to have to be paranoid. I might be hunted and even if I’m not, it’s going to be politically messy. We need to be careful and blend in. You don’t even know how to speak our languages yet.”

Tara stopped, her heels clicking on the street. Shaking her head, she said, “Don’t worry about it. I’m from Infinity City. I grew up in a place where I might need a new language from one block to the next. Besides, I learn very quickly.”

Amy looked up. If she looked straight ahead, she’d be staring at Tara’s neck. “How quickly?”

Tara shrugged. “It depends. Talk to me in your language.”

Raising an eyebrow, Amy said, “Welcome, foreigner to the European provinces of the Brythonic Empire. It’s our hope that you enjoy your visit.”

Tara smiled and said, “Thank you for your hospitality, my lady. I am your humble servant for as long as we’re here.”

Amy stared, dropping back into English. “Holy shit. That was good. You have an accent, but you’ll pass. We’ll say you’re from the Summerlands. Their accents get weird. Even better, people who go there tend to stay, so we don’t have to worry about someone knowing better. Where did you learn that?”

Tara’s teeth glinted in the streetlight as she smiled. “Infinity City. It’s a lot like Welsh and Cornish. There are more varieties if you go in the right direction. We get refugees from everywhere.”

“Here?” Amy asked.

Setting down their suitcases, Tara said, “Maybe. It depends whether people know they can get in, but Infinity City’s over there.”

She pointed toward one of the brick walls.

Amy’s jaw dropped. “Where? And how do you know?”

Tara smiled. “I’m from Infinity City. Everyone who lives there starts to sense when they’ve stepped into a part that’s associated with a different universe or if it’s going to leave and go back there soon. We can sense our home section and we can sense the closest manifestation. I was born there. I always know.”

Glancing over at the wall, which, Amy noted, didn’t look different from any other section of brick covered with cracked plaster, she asked, “How close is it?”

Tara frowned. “Within 1000 miles, but on the far end of my guess. That’s why I’m not worried about whether we can use our communicators. All we have to do is go to Infinity City and I’ll be able to bring you home.”

And travel, Amy thought, across 1000 miles of hostile territory with the entire Empire’s resources bent to tracking them down.

She said, “I am home, but it’s good that we have an escape route. I hope we don’t need to use it. For now, let’s concentrate on information gathering. We’ll start worrying about escape later.”

With a grin, Tara picked up the suitcases and Amy sighed. “I’ll take my suitcase. You shouldn’t have to carry both of them.”

With a shake of her head, Tara said, “I’m your servant. I should carry them.”

Amy held out her hand, “Just give it to me. I feel silly.”

“No,” Tara said. “It will blow your cover. If you want it, you’ll have to fight me.”

Then she started walking away with both of them. With a sigh, Amy followed.

Hurrying, she said, “Tell me if you get tired.”

It didn’t take long before they stepped out to the main street. It looked better than she feared from the alley. A line of multiple story apartment buildings with flat roofs, plaster walls, and balconies with iron wrought railings. Streetlamps with electric lights lit the street.

In the air, dirigibles traveled above the city, the running lights on their gondolas making the airships visible.

Horse drawn carriages passed by on the street—including double-decker omnibuses. The people in them showed every slice of humanity in the city whether they were bored, laughing and talking, or smoking.

Amy smiled. This was Paris as she remembered it, but they’d added more electric lights. She’d expected gas lamps.

Next to her, Tara let out a breath. “It is beautiful. Where do we find your friend?”

Amy looked both ways, deciding that no one was within earshot. “I don’t know. I have Madeline’s address from six years ago. We’ll have to hire a cab and ask them to drive us. If she’s not there anymore, we’ll find a hotel or a boarding house.”

But Tara had already turned away, staring at the posters stuck to the cream colored plaster on the building behind them. All of them hand-illustrated, the bright colors competed with each other to pull the eye.

One poster dominated. Twice the size of the others, it portrayed a large, mustached man in a black suit. In one hand, he manipulated a puppet with wires and wooden sticks. The puppet was a red-haired woman in white plate armor accented with pink at the edges. A red gem glowed on her chest.

The hand drawn text below the picture said, “Maximillian Thorne, Chancellor of the Empire! Master Puppeteer!”

Tara turned back toward her, asking, “Do you know him?”

She shook her head as she pulled out a chair near his. “I knew you and your grandfather for a little over a day. I’m not sure if I even knew Vaughn, Cassie, and his grandfather for an hour. I don’t even know if they survived. Knowing you now, I think they must have, but I don’t want to pull them in again. This is my family and the empire’s problem. They shouldn’t have to risk their lives for me.”

Nick typed something on the keyboard as he replied. “I don’t know the version of myself in your world, but if he’s anything like me and if his version of the League is like ours, I think they’d be okay with the risk. Plus, you said that you and he were involved, right? I’m sure he’d consider it then even if he’s with someone else by now.”

She’d had six years to think about that and it was only one of the reasons she didn’t want to show up at his front door out of nowhere. This Nick had been in a relationship with Haley for literal years before she’d met him.

It sounded like “her” Nick had already met Haley, but it hadn’t worked out. Amy didn’t know who he’d be with then, but six years was long enough to find someone else.

She’d dated this universe’s Vaughn, so she could hardly blame him.

She didn’t say that. She said, “I only knew him for a little over 24 hours six years ago. I know you better than I know him.”

Nick looked up from the laptop. “Good point. Alternate world versions of anyone aren’t the same person anyway. I’ve met an alternate version of myself and he was very different and… kind of evil. Did you ever find yourself here?”

Amy shook her head. “If she exists, she has to have a completely different history. Besides, you know how the wizards here are about blood magic. They hate it. Only vampires and their servants use it. She might be a vampire.”

Nick nodded. “Yeah. It’s probably for the best that we don’t find her then. If we ever need to though, we know a friendly-ish vampire we could ask now. Anyway, the good news is I’ve locked on to Paris in your world with the Starplate. The bad is that your world as a whole is kind of hard to lock on to. So, as long as you have your League communicators, you can send a distress call. It’ll be logged and we’ll try to pull you out. The bad is that it probably won’t be immediate.”

Amy raised an eyebrow. “Why?”

Nick shrugged. “I don’t know. Magic messes with technology—which reminds me of another thing. Your communicators charge from ambient radiation, so you shouldn’t have to charge them, but you never know because, well, magic. You should also be able to charge them normally. I worked up an adapter that should dynamically adapt to your world’s electrical systems… where you have them.”

Pointing across the room, Daniel said, “Tara’s here.”

Amy followed his hand to see Tara and Cassie halfway across the room and walking in their direction. Cassie, square-jawed, her blond hair in a pony-tail, wore a grey hoodie, and jeans.

Tara wore black jacket and pants with a white blouse, the traditional clothing of a blood sorcerer’s servant. Whoever had designed it had done a perfect job. It helped make up for Tara being over six feet tall, tanned, with long hair, and the looks of a fitness model.

Amy imagined the two of them together. Between being nearly a foot shorter, skinny, pale, and her red hair, they’d stand out, a short scarecrow and a giant.

Turning back to Nick, she said, “The clothes are perfect, both hers and mine.”

“Great.” Nick hit a few more keys on his laptop. “Thank my sister. She did the work based on pictures I got through the Starplate. The material should act as armor, especially in layers.”

“Thank her for me,” Amy said. “And thank everyone. I said my goodbyes last night, but if there’s anyone I missed, tell them on my behalf.”

“Sure,” Nick said, tapping some more on the keyboard and not making any move to give her a goodbye hug.

It was, Amy knew, very him, and she was fine with it. In her current mood, she might break into tears and she didn’t want to.

“Everything’s set,” he said. “I’ve found a spot in an alley downtown. You should be able to appear without being seen.”

On the other side of him, Daniel said, “I’ve been helping choose the spot. You’ve got a decent window, but not forever. I’m not able to sense too far in the future and doing it for another universe is worse.”

Amy heard steps to the side of her, realizing Cassie and Tara had arrived. Cassie reached around Amy’s shoulders and pulled her in for a brief, one armed hug. “Good luck. We’ll be here if you need us.”

Amy said, “Thanks,” and glanced over at the Starplate. Tara had grabbed both suitcases and stood next to the platform. The flat silver and black circle had taken on a dim glow.

Tara grinned at her as Cassie let go, “I’m ready. Are you excited?”

Amy stepped toward her. “That’s one word for what I’m feeling. Let’s go.”

Or, she thought to herself, I might not.

They both stepped up onto the platform at the same time. Holding out her hand toward Tara, she said, “You don’t have to take my suitcase. I can carry it—”

The platform flashed white and then they were somewhere else.

Getting up from the couch, Nick said, “Very.”

Daniel laughed and then both of their eyes glazed over. It was only a moment, but Amy had learned to notice it. Daniel was a telepath and he’d been best friends with Nick since childhood, long enough that when they were in range they shared a telepathic link.

Amy envied them the connection but not the telepathy. She hadn’t seen her family since she appeared in this world or even received a message.

It had been almost six years and she would have expected something by now. Of course, she’d been sent here because members of the Bloodlords’ Council wanted to kill her. Her family might not want to risk revealing her location, something she reminded herself of often.

It was the best case scenario. The other possibilities were much worse. First, that her family might be avoiding calling her back because of the political problems surrounding her existence or second, because those political problems had killed them all.

If they were dead, she told herself, and not for the first time, everyone involved would pay.

In the back of her mind she felt agreement. She knew where it came from. The back of her mind wasn’t unlike the trophy section of this room. Many girls had inherited the Bloodmaiden powers upon coming-of-age. Every one of them still existed in her head.

From the warrior women of the tribe where her family began to the generals, blood sorcerers, scientists, merchants, and nobles that her family became, she could hear them all.

Well, she could hear all of them except for the last 200 years, give or take a decade. The last Bloodmaiden of her line had absorbed one of the monsters she faced and had been taken over.

She’d never talked to Hildagar, but she knew her name. Everyone in her family’s empire did. Hildagar had killed the ruling family—her own family—brothers, sisters, parents, every family member in the capital. In response, the empire’s most powerful blood sorcerers, the members of the Bloodlords’ Council, had killed Hildagar and blocked the Bloodmaiden powers from manifesting.

Instead they’d created an incorruptible replacement, linking it to the family line just like the old Bloodmaiden powers had been. There had been three since then. Amy couldn’t remember the name of the first. The second had been her great aunt Mina, who’d served in the Nightmare War. Amanda, Amy’s sister, was the third.

She couldn’t hear anyone from the second group of Bloodmaidens. Of course, Amanda wouldn’t be eligible because she was alive—probably.

“Amy?” In the time that she’d drifted off into her memories, Nick had pulled himself off the couch and placed his hand on her shoulder. “Are you okay?”

Daniel stood just behind him. If anyone asked, Amy might have described him as literally tall, dark, and handsome. Between being over six feet, tanned with dark hair, attractive in a baby-faced way, and muscular, but not like a bodybuilder. It was more subtle, but there.

Nick, by contrast, was slightly under six feet and comparitively pale. Even though, like Daniel, he worked out, it didn’t make him stand out. If Daniel were athletic like a swimmer, Nick was athletic like a long distance runner—toned, but not obvious.

In this moment, she only had eyes for Nick and she knew why. From looks to personality, everything about him reminded him of the Nick in her world, the one who might have died sending her here.

He asked again, “Are you okay?”

She said, “I’m nervous about going back.”

She knew she wasn’t lying. Going back was a big part of what made her anxious, but she could think of a few other things.

He let go of her shoulder. “You don’t have to.”

“I do. My family should have gotten word to me by now. They haven’t sent anything. They’re in trouble.” 

She looked up at him, hoping he’d believe that was all of it. It should have been enough.

Nick nodded. “I get it. I’d go too.”

Turning, she checked out the Starplate. Next to the black and silver platform stood her suitcase and another. The black leather bag couldn’t hold everything she’d brought to this world, but she wasn’t a returning princess on this mission. She was a scout. Visually, she needed to be a normal woman in her 20s.

Noting the second suitcase, she asked, “Is Tara coming?”

Nick nodded. “She’s changing in the locker room. Cassie’s with her. I think she wanted to look at Tara’s clothes. They look kind of Victorian with the ruffles and lace and everything. What you’re wearing looks a little simpler, though.”

Amy looked down at her clothes. She wore a black skirt with a white blouse, red and black sash, and a red jacket. “We aren’t Victorians and these aren’t normal clothes. I can’t hide that I’m a blood sorcerer. Anyone with magical talent will know. The red and black sash shows that I’m a trained blood sorcerer who’s finished with her apprenticeship. My clothes are allowed to be more functional than a noble’s.”

Nick’s eyes drifted down toward her sash. “I didn’t know it was symbolic. Did you decide where you wanted to go?”

Her version of Nick had asked her the same question. She’d decided to go to this world because anyone from her world would stand out too much to easily assassinate her.

“Paris,” she said. “I know people there.”

She wanted to go to New Amsterdam or even to the Adventurers’ League headquarters in her own world, but they were both on the wrong side of the Atlantic. Paris was close enough to the Northern Islands for the big news to be current, but far enough away that no one would expect her to be there.

She’d spent years in this world now, lived in their houses, studied in their schools, and served on a team with people like herself—people born with power. In her own world, it had been called the Adventurers’ League.

There, it had been formed to fight in the Nightmare War. Here, it had been formed when its founders had met in what this world referred to as World War 2.

She didn’t know what their headquarters looked like in her world. The nearest city with an imperial presence was New Amsterdam, and this was more than a thousand miles inland. She suspected their headquarters must look better at home. This world leaned toward the plain, straight, and functional.

Nothing disguised the fact that this place was an underground bunker.

The walls, ceiling, and floor were all windowless gray concrete. Someone on the team insisted on upgrading the look a few years ago, removing clutter and stacked cardboard boxes. Now the massive room held three main areas.

To the right, the walls, displays, and pedestals showed the history of the original League. Old news articles, pictures, and trophy cases containing shattered armor and weapons filled that corner of the room. Nick had once told her, “They’d never be able to keep that stuff now. If nothing else, lawyers would need it as evidence for the trial.” 

To her left were tables, the kitchen, and a training area.

On the far end, a huge screen rose from the floor to the ceiling. Standing in the center of a crimson carpet nearby were a group of cubicles and an oval table that reminded her of a similar table in her family’s original castle.

The story was that it was King Arthur’s and that the family’s knights had gathered around it for war councils and feasts. She doubted it. Every royal family created a link to mythic heroes if they could.

She had checked if it might be the same table once, but if anything it was more ornate than the one she remembered. Her ex-boyfriend, Vaughn Hardwick, said it came from his family.

She’d met an alternate version of his family in her own universe. They were prominent enough for his grandfather to be named ambassador to her mother’s court. That same table might stand in the team’s headquarters in her own world.

Resolving not to be surprised if it did, she wondered if there were a version of herself here. She’d looked, but hadn’t found any hints of her family in Britain or Scotland, nor had she found evidence of the Bloodmaiden magical construct in Reliquary’s collection of magical texts.

She pushed it out of her mind. She had enough to worry about today. She didn’t need to think about what she’d be leaving or even what she might find when she reached home.

Putting one foot before the other, she passed the trophies and mementoes, the training mats and weights, the cubicles, and the table. She didn’t think about the years here or how the house above this hidden bunker had been her only real home in this world.

She arrived at what this world’s Nick and the team called “the Starplate.” It looked the same as it had in her own world—a flat, circular platform made of a silvery metal that curled outward from a center standing a foot above the ground.

In her own world, it had been in a room filled with capacitors and batteries designed to deliver a surge of power at the right moment. In this world, it stood alone near the table, the cubicles, and the giant screen. In this world, it didn’t need a room full of batteries and capacitors. Thick black power cables ran to it from the base’s fusion power plant.

In a technological sense, everything here was better. She’d be going back to a world where the horse and buggy was still a popular form of transportation and no cellphones existed.

Her mind flashed back to the day she’d left. Assassins from the Bloodlords’ Council had broken in to kill her. “Her” Nick and his grandfather struggled to open the portal while Giles and Vaughn Hardwick, Vaughn’s friend Cassandra, and a mercenary known as Captain Lee defended her.

She never found out what happened after the portal flashed and she disappeared. Did the assassins retreat? Did Nick and his grandfather survive? She would have bet they had, but she didn’t know.

In any case, she noted, today’s trip promised to be much less exciting—at least on this side of reality. No one was trying to kill her. This Nick wasn’t frantically checking gauges or twisting dials.

He sat on a threadbare couch next to his friend, Daniel. They both had game controllers in their hands and, from the button-pushing, appeared to be controlling two cars in a crowd of multi-colored vehicles racing through a city displayed on the giant screen above them.

Nick turned in her direction. His eyes widened, and he said, “Oh,” as his car ran off the road and smashed into the nearest building.

Next to him, Daniel pushed a button, and everything on the screen froze. “Do you want to save the game?”

Glancing up at the screen, Nick said, “Let’s not.”

But a few generations back, the Bloodmaiden absorbed the essence of a monster she faced, killing all of her family members before being destroyed. Terrified, the Bloodlords’ Council brought in a distant branch of the royal family to run the empire and created a new Bloodmaiden construct, this one designed to be impossible to corrupt.

All went well until the coming-of-age of the twin princesses Amanda and Amelia. As expected, Amanda, the heir, inherited the powers and abilities of the new Bloodmaiden. Defying all expectations, the old one reappeared in Amelia.

To quell the empire’s panic, her family sent Amelia through a portal to a strange, warped version of their Earth and told her they’d bring her back when it was safe.

After six years of hearing nothing, wondering whether her family was alive or dead, she’s decided not to wait for permission.

She’s coming back, not knowing if she’s here to confront her family or avenge them—or if she can trust the voices of the past Bloodmaidens in her head.

This will also be posted under my profile on Royal Road.

Staring out into nowhere before he met her eyes, Govan said, “The visions changed. At first they showed friends dying at the hands of young Artificers and the younger races.”

He shook his head.

“Then after Destroy’s council meeting where it was decided that we would end our ability to reproduce, the visions changed. After that they showed me helping to destroy our people. None of you appeared with me, but I knew I wasn’t alone. I fought alongside the child I met. Your protege.”

Lee smirked. “Protege… That sounds… I don’t know… It sounds as if I were training him to take over some mortal business. Perhaps in plastics. I hear there’s a great future in plastics.”

No one laughed, reminding Lee that out of this group of multi-billion year old beings, he was the only one who’d spent an appreciable amount of time following Earth culture. None of them had ever seen The Graduate or any of the Star Wars movies. Nataw might be interested. Govan wouldn’t, but he might enjoy  hockey.

“Plastics?” Govan shrugged. “Well, they are primitive. What were your visions like?”

“Mine?” Lee let out a breath. “I’ve been hiding mine too. Among the four of us, I think I might finally be able to be honest. I heard about others’ visions before I started having my own. I talked to people whose only visions were of being ambushed and dying and only that, again and again. For the longest time, I had nothing and then my first one was of being summoned, held in a magical circle, and then freed by a mortal in armor of his own design.

“After that I started seeing some of the same visions you mentioned. I saw the start of our species’ Civil War and the disappearance of the Live faction, but I saw myself fighting on both sides. Funny thing, I thought of joining the Live faction immediately because I didn’t see the point of waiting if I knew I would in the end anyway, but it didn’t work out.

“You know how your future self will sometimes interject thoughts into your head? Mine told me to stay with Destroy. It wasn’t until after the first battle where I used this thing that he told me I could leave any time I wanted. So I did. I’d learned everything I needed to know about Destroy’s plans by then.”

Govan frowned. “You have a different relationship with your future self. I always felt that mine was angry, disappointed, and judgmental.”

No one said anything.

Taking in their reactions, Govan said, “I understand why that might be, but I don’t feel like I deserve it. I only ever hoped to protect those I cared about. That’s all. It sounds as though Lee’s intended that he betray Destroy from the beginning.”

Nodding, Lee said, “Yeah. I think that’s about right. There were people I liked in Destroy—Halas, you, and a few others, but I didn’t like the plan. Kill all of the younger races except for our allies isn’t a plan or at least it doesn’t make much sense. If you think the younger races are going to kill you all, wouldn’t it be best to find out why and then change it? The future moves with your actions. It’s not inevitable.

“Anyway, I stayed long enough to understand what Destroy wanted to do. Then I left. I think I even understand why the younger races will want to kill us and it’s not that great an insight. When you try to destroy someone, they’ll try to destroy you. It’s the most obvious self-fulfilling prophecy in history, but not obvious enough for Destroy to notice and quit. Whatever…”

Kee smiled at him. “I think you underestimate both their fear and how far they’ve bought into the path they’ve chosen. They fear the possibility that the younger races will reach the same level of power we have and I think they’d fear that even without the visions. I also think that having made that choice they can’t give up on it because giving up would mean admitting that they’d been wrong the whole time.”

Govan took a deep breath and then let it out. “What you’ve said is possible. When I was with them, it seemed as though we’d talk about how worthless and weak mortals were and how little they understood and then work on our plans to destroy them. It didn’t always make sense.”

Lee’s thought’s drifted back to the moment Joe stepped into the room in the castle where he’d been held. Lee had known it was coming, but in the moment it had still impressed him. A human being, one that had no chance against one of giant kind, even one as small as the Jotun sorcerer who’d summoned him, nonetheless fought the giant. Covered in armor that put him into the giant’s league, they won, partially because Lee had fought, but mostly because Joe had known not to go in alone.

Lee had little doubt that even if he hadn’t been there that Joe and his friends would have killed the giant. He’d seen what they did in the years afterward.

It had been a beautiful moment in time with them. It wasn’t unlike when he’d entered this universe with Kee, Nataw, and the others. Everything had seemed possible.

He hadn’t expected to miss those mortals quite so much, but that stage of his life was over now. He’d admired humanity’s adaptability. Even after billions of years, he had his own.

It was time for the next stage to start. Having Kee, Govan, and Nataw together was a beginning. Next he had to bring together the Xiniti, the rest of the Live faction and the Cosmic Ghosts as well as the network of technologists Kee had created.

He knew they could do it. He’d seen it in the future.

He wondered if Joe would be amused to know that he was about to try to change the universe for the better. Maybe they’d talk about it someday. The future was a strange and unpredictable place.

Where they were was arguable. When they were couldn’t be measured by normal human measurements, but at the same time, it could be said to be after Magnus’ death and as all the mortals returned to their lives.

Govan, Nataw, Lee, and Kee existed in a space that could be perceived as a giant room with red suns glowing in the middle of the room.

For beings that existed as energy, taking bodies in an infinity of worlds for their convenience, it appeared differently.

No room existed. The red suns, molten balls of glowing energy that sometimes solidified on the outside before being absorbed, turned into liquid, and recirculated through the core. Connected to each other, they also connected to the device’s power, the suns of a galaxy’s core.

The small red suns in the control room weren’t power so much as a user-interface, a way to help control the power.

The beings within the room knew it and could use it to pull of visions of the future, windows into other universes, or to destroy worlds, galaxies, and other beings, including beings like themselves.

Lee called up a vision of the humans (and their dog) as they appeared back in their own world and their own times, both the present and 1959.

Letting the vision go, Lee said, “Everyone’s been sent back to when and where they belong and I’ve shut down access to the outside. We can talk without worrying that someone will overhear.”

They weren’t embodied, but for convenience, let’s pretend that their energy based forms loosely approximated a human’s. It will be easier.

Kee looked up from a collection of small lights that acted as a user-interface and monitor. “If you give me control, I can set permissions so that from this point forward time moves normally in here. So no one can make changes that affect people from the past.”

Raising an eyebrow, Lee asked, “You need me to give you permissions?”

“Not really,” she said, “I have a backdoor, but if you give me permission, I won’t be annoyed by having to go around my security.”

Lee shrugged. “Sure.”

“I don’t suppose that you could give me permissions,” Nataw said, staring up at the glowing suns above. “I spent a lot of time imprisoned here, but I never got to truly understand this thing. It’s a beautiful piece of work. I love that while Destroy asked for a weapon, they also got an object capable of creating and terraforming worlds.”

Kee smiled. “I’d been planning to create a device like this for ages, but I knew that collecting the materials wouldn’t be easy. The visions and the split happened around the time that I was finished with the design, a few proofs of concept, and a weaker prototype. All I had to do then was persuade them that I’d created a super weapon—which I had, but more by accident than intention.”

Floating across from her, Govan looked up. “Is that why you joined Destroy? I never felt it was a good fit for you.”

She narrowed her eyes. “I never joined Destroy. I just didn’t withdraw into the shadows. You all assumed I was one of you, allowing me to watch and even recruit. I organized the Live faction. I helped my friends and allies hide. There’s no one more responsible for creating the Live faction than I am.”

Govan nodded as she talked. “That fits the woman I remember better. I’m sure it sounds ridiculous coming from me, but I was disappointed.”

Kee laughed. “I was disappointed in everyone, including myself. We didn’t have to split after the visions. We could have talked about them and what they meant. We could have acted together to change the future we were seeing. We could have done so many things. All futures are changeable. None are inevitable. Instead we all ran off and formed our little cliques. Then we fought each other. There were never very many of us in comparison to the younger races. Why kill each other?”

With a smirk, Lee said, “Fear. You love change. Nataw loves change. A lot of other people don’t like it so much.”

In reality Govan made no movement noticeable to human senses, his form dense with energies gathered from other worlds and their universes, but we’ll say he nodded. The movement of his energies meant assent, possibly acceptance or agreement. It’s close enough.

He said, “I agree that it was fear, but I blame communication from their future selves. What did you see in your visions?”

Nataw stared off into space and smiled. “I didn’t see anything special. I saw myself among friends. I’d come back to join them with new friends I’d discovered among the stars. Yes, there was conflict and sometimes I saw former friends on the other side, but we stood together. You were with me.”

Govan twitched. “Was I? Was that true from the beginning? Because my visions weren’t the same.”

Isaac Cohen, alias the Mentalist, shook his head. “No. I don’t even know why they come, but I assume it’s your people.”

He nodded toward Gunther.

Gunther smirked, “That’s not a bad guess. We tend to mess up clairvoyance of all kinds, including prescience.”

Chuck eyed Isaac, “You’re sure that they’re our grandchildren?”

Isaac nodded, “They’re our grandchildren if we don’t do anything that changes the future. If we do, they’ll be different.”

Chuck stared at him, “Well, how the fuck are we supposed to avoid that?”

“Now that,” Reg said, raising his index finger to emphasize it, “is a good point. I’ve been wondering what we’re supposed to do now that we know this.”

Turning to look at Reg while stepping sideways to avoid shattered bits of Dr. Madness’ lab equipment and an unconscious lab assistant, Joe said, “Shouldn’t it be simple? If the people we saw are the grandchildren that should come into being if we keep on doing what we’re doing, all we should have to do is whatever we would have done if we’d never met them, right? Whatever makes the most sense in the situations that we’re in.”

Isaac shook his head. “It’s not that simple. By meeting them, we now know more than we did, so we might make different decisions.”

“Unless,” Joe said, “meeting them is what makes us make the decisions that create the version of the future that creates them.”

John shook his head. “I’m going to get a headache if we go too far into this.”

Folding his hands over his chest, Chuck said, “You and me both.”

Romy shook her head. “As Joe said, it’s not that complicated. We simply need to act without second guessing ourselves.”

Speaking up for the first time since they’d returned, Giles stopped looking over Dr. Madness chemical storage shelves to say, “It’s a fascinating topic. Joe, doesn’t it remind you of the pulps? Or that new TV show? The Twilight Zone, I think it is. Of course, in that show, you’d discover that in order to keep the future on track, you’d have to do something terrible.”

With a shake of his head, Isaac said, “Let’s hope not. I can guide the group through it and Joe’s likely right. Doing what you do naturally will keep us on track. It’s when we get off track that I’ll be able to push us in the right direction. I may have to withdraw and meditate… I’ve been working toward a process that shows me more than before. It’s more than the strongest danger. It shows me possibilities. I’ll have to go deeper into it than anything I use while fighting, but it creates a much richer understanding of the future.”

Romy took a look around the lab, the shelves of chemicals, Madness gas in different stages of creation, the tanks of finished gas, different devices for dispensing it from capsules to guns, and the unconscious and dead people lying on the ground in the cave. “I think we might want to take this conversation somewhere else in case they wake up.”

“I’ve been checking them,” Isaac said. “I’ll sense it if they begin to wake up, but you’re right we shouldn’t stay. There’s a chance that allies of Dr. Madness will show up and it’s growing—not to mention the vampire.”

John took a step toward the cave’s exit, turning back to say, “Time to bug out. Why didn’t you mention that earlier?”

Isaac shook his head but began to follow. “We only just got out and we’ve been talking. Besides, there’s a significant chance that if the vampire shows up, he’ll be on our side against Dr. Madness’ allies.”

Sniffing the air, Chuck stopped to say, “He’d be fighting on our side?”

Already a few steps in front of John, Reg turned back. “He’s helped us before—not with this, but he has lines he doesn’t cross. Remember the kidnapping operation?”

Scowling, Chuck said, “I can’t forget it, but I always thought Dr. Transylvania had another motive. I’m sure it helped him when we took out a competitor.”

Reg shook his head, “The vampire doesn’t sell people. I checked into it. He hates it and anyone involved in it and has for at least 300 years.”

Gunther started walking after them. “He’s not bad for the undead. I’ve encountered him in a few different identities over the years. He takes care of his people, even the ones he’s not feeding on. That country he owns? I forget the new name, but it‘s well run. You should let him take over the world once. He might do better than you’d think.”

Nodding as he stepped over a body, Joe said, “His inventions are a fascinating blend of magic and technology. If he’s as good at ruling as he is at inventing, it would be different even if it’s not better in ways we like. But, I have a question about something else. What happened to the rock you used to open the portal?”

Gunther smiled, “I left it back there. Dr. Madness will tell Dr. Mind about this cave in a few years. Dr. Mind will discover the rock and try to send it to Magnus, but it won’t arrive because a guy named Urin will steal it. It’ll eventually get to the second Rocket. Meanwhile some Russians will pick another one up on their trip to a base my people placed on Mars. That one will make it to Magnus, allowing him to get this party rolling. See, I’m already doing my bit to keep the future on track.”

Chuck frowned. “Are you sure that’s all you’re doing?”

With a grin, Gunther said, “It’s not, but be assured that everything I’m doing ultimately helps humanity, you, your grandchildren, and puts me closer to finishing a personal project of mine that will ultimately benefit everyone.”

Giles raised an eyebrow as he looked at Lee. “As much as I want to find out more about your personal project, I’m curious as to how you know what will happen to your rock in the future.”

Swaggering forward, Gunther gave no impression that he felt any anxiety about another fight. Joe envied him that. Everyone else on the team needed a rest, perhaps especially Giles. He’d taken a nasty hit at the beginning of the last fight. Still, it was nice to see him interested. He’d been distant lately.

Turning to Giles, Gunther said, “It’s easy. My future self passes on information he thinks I might need. I share it with the group whenever I think it might help.”

Giles nodded. “I wish it were so easy for me. My grandson told me that the future he lived in was a good future. I don’t know anything about it, but we need to make it the best future we can.”

Seconds after they’d stepped into the portal, they stepped out. Brazil’s heat and humidity hit even in the cool darkness of the cave around them.

Joe noted for the future that he needed to improve the Rocket suit’s climate controls. Then he checked over the rest of the team. Except for Captain Commando, everyone appeared worse for wear and even John’s costume showed burns and rips. Unlike everyone else, healthy white skin showed through the holes without any sign of damage.

Turning toward the group, John said, “I never planned to have a child, and there she was. I still don’t know what to do with that.”

Joe nodded, feeling the helmet nod along with him. “I was surprised too. Finding out Dr. Mind cloned a female version of you… Well, then it made sense. He’s been obsessed with destroying you since the war.”

John threw back his head and laughed. “That’s exactly the way I’d end up with a kid. I’ve seen all of you with them and it looks like a helluva lot of work. Maybe he gives up on killing me and decides that instead he’ll make sure I don’t get a decent night’s sleep for the next two years, right? That’s revenge.”

Then John stopped, staring into nothing for a moment, but adding, “We’ve been talking about a sword off and on, something sharp enough to cut through metal when Reg isn’t available to rip it to shreds. She had one. That means that you figure it out.”

Raising an eyebrow (uselessly inside his helmet), Joe said, “It was broken. That should tell you something.”

John shrugged. “Everything breaks eventually, and then you fix it or come up with something better.”

Romy crossed her arms over her chest. “You break everything eventually. Joe should teach you how to fix it.”

Shaking his head, John said, “I don’t have the patience for that.”

Standing a few inches taller than everyone else, his purple costume scraped, but less torn, Reg said, “We know.”

Turning toward Gunther, who stood next to where the portal had been, Reg added, “Did you miss us?”

Gunther smiled a little too wide, “Not in the slightest. I was with you the entire time, more or less. At least, I will be.”

“What was the point of all that?”

Joe turned toward the source, knowing what he’d see.

Chuck started suspicious and didn’t give it up quickly. He’d never fully trusted Gunther just like he’d never fully trusted Romy. It didn’t surprise Joe at all to see Chuck staring up toward Gunther, hands at his sides. 

It fit their lives perfectly to find Chuck confronting Gunther while wearing a torn gray costume with a wolf head emblem on the chest. The fact that Gunther wore khaki fatigues and had the looks of a perfect Nazi only added flavor to the scene.

“It made no sense,” Chuck continued. “You wanted us to go in there to scout things out and shut it down. We followed your directions, started to leave, and then we were yanked back into a fight over the fate of the universe. And who yanked us into it? Our grandchildren, if they are our grandchildren. You weren’t straight with us. I know you’re not always straight with us, but dammit, this time takes the cake. What was this?”

Gunther smirked, “I think you explained all of it. I needed you to scout the GCD out and shut a few things down and handle whatever problems you found there. You found a few problems. You fixed them, and because you fixed them, you’ve met your grandchildren. And now that you’ve met your grandchildren, you know they’ll be facing foes that exist on an epic scale. Not only that, it’s only the first step in their journey.

“Before it’s all over, they’ll be fighting in my species’ civil war. Knowing that, you’ve got a choice: help them survive to reach the battle you fought in or ignore it and let it all fall apart before they’re even born.”

Chuck growled, “Oh, come on. How are we supposed to do that, assuming we can believe you? What else are you doing?”

The Mentalist, his top hat lost in the fight, touched Chuck’s shoulder with his hand. “Chuck, he’s telling the truth. I may not be able to read his mind, but I can sense his effect on the future. If we work with him, our children, grandchildren, and the world as a whole have a better chance to survive.”

Chuck turned to look at him, “And if we don’t work with him?”

The Mentalist’s eyes lost focus, and he stared into nowhere. Then he shuddered, the loose threads of his torn tuxedo dangling. “I’ve told you there’s a point in the future where everything turns into screams? If we don’t work with him, it comes sooner.”

An early diversion from the main topic came when I asked Grandma, “What happens with the house? It’s right above HQ and I’ve been living there. Are you going to want to move back in? I inherited it assuming that you were dead and you’re not.”

Grandma shook her head. “I think you’ll find that you inherited all of it when Grandpa died. By the time David wrote the will, we knew I’d be leaving for space until after you’d visited the device. Selda and I own a house near Grand Lake that we’ve been staying in when we visited Earth. You’re all welcome to visit now. I’d like to make up for the time we’ve all lost.”

She’d started the last sentence with a pause and a lower voice. 

I got it. I couldn’t remember exactly the date she’d been born, but I knew she was in her 90s. Reverse engineered Cosmic Ghost DNA might keep her younger, but not forever.

Mom said, “We’d love to, Mom.”

My implant registered a communication request from Daniel and I accepted it.

“Nick, Grandpa Cohen is talking normally again and he’s told me it’s permanent. Honestly, I’m not convinced that he’d know after all this time, but maybe.”

As used to the implant connection as I was, hearing Daniel’s voice in my head without sensing his feelings felt sterile. To be accurate, I could feel him a little, but only a touch, not enough to pass thoughts or feelings. I could tell he was in range even if it was only barely true.

Still, I didn’t need that to hear the flatness in his voice, as if he didn’t believe it or wasn’t sure he dared to believe it.

“Whoa,” I said, “did he tell you why?”

“Well, he said it was a partly fake and partly a side effect of how much time he spent searching possible futures. According to him, he spent every spare moment following down trails of what we were doing and its consequences.

“I don’t think he’s lying, but I can’t do anything like that when I’m nowhere near the action. When he wasn’t using his powers, he actually was confused about when he was because he was so tired he couldn’t turn his prescience fully off. The rest of the time he was faking dementia so people would write him off if they ever figured out where and who he was.”

“That worked out,” I said, remembering the attack on Daniel’s family and how the Nine’s people had absolutely no idea what they were walking into.

“I know,” Daniel said, “and he told me so himself, but that’s not the only reason I’m calling. He wants to drop by and talk to your grandmother, but he doesn’t want to interrupt your conversation. He wants to drop by when there’s a natural break.”

“Coincidentally, we seem to have just reached one,” I said, not thinking that it was any kind of coincidence.

Daniel laughed, “It’s almost like he can see the future. He’d also like it if the old League members plus Gerald Cannon could visit before we watch the movie.”

“I don’t see any reason why not as long as the rest of the team’s okay with it. It’s not just my decision, but it’s probably fine. I bet they could stay for the movie if they wanted to.”

I doubted anyone would have an issue with it.

Daniel paused before he responded, but then said, “Zayde’s okay with that, but it might make it harder to pick a movie if it’s got to pass muster with everyone.”

“The last time we were doing regular movie nights we took turns, but I don’t remember who had the last pick.”

Looking around my family room, I realized that I’d stopped talking and spaced out enough that everyone could tell. Rachel said, “Don’t worry about it, he took a call.”

“We’ll work it out,” Daniel said. We agreed and disconnected.

I’d barely finished when Haley called. “We’ve planned the service out as far as we can go without holding it. Do you mind if I come over? I need to be somewhere else for a little while.”

“No problem,” I said, and she did.

It wasn’t that long before we left for League HQ. It felt a little different to have the surviving League there and a little less different to have Chris’ grandfather and former supervillain there as well. He’d dropped by a lot.

Grandma liked the renovations we’d made—organizing the trophies and adding carpet to the section with the League’s table, desks, and the giant screen.

We ordered pizza like we always had, brought our surviving grandparents on a tour and introduced everyone. It wasn’t quite the same as the picnics when we were children, but we were all older and we were hosting now.

It felt good anyway. As the group began to figure what movie we’d watch, I found myself wondering if there were any more side effects to what we’d done.

We’d changed whether my grandmother would die of cancer and allowed Ray to survive as a Xiniti soldier. That hadn’t had any effect on us because we’d experienced the same way up until today. Still, it might have a larger effect on the future. It would almost have to. 

For all I knew, the future I’d seen had all been wiped away as a result of unforeseen side effects of killing those Abominators. 

The future version of myself that I’d met might no longer be out there or might be different now. I couldn’t even guess what might have changed.

A voice sounded in my head, my own voice, but different. You’re right. There are changes you don’t know about. Don’t worry about it. You’ve reached a good moment. Let yourself enjoy it.

I thought back, What kind of changes?

I didn’t get any response and decided to take my own advice. Problems would show up soon enough. My friends were here. I could hear them talking, laughing, and even arguing about the movie options.

The future would take care of itself. It was time to appreciate the present.

“It worked, for the most part,” I said as both Dad and Mom looked on, “but we weren’t perfect. We were good enough, though. If we’d really messed up, we might not have been born. So far, the only changes are improvements—like Grandma being alive.”

“Oh, that explains that call.”

I turned to see Uncle Steve stepping out of the bathroom in the hall behind me. Dad and I stepped into the main area of the family room, giving Uncle Steve the space to follow us in.

He smiled through his beard. “I got a call from Isaac Lim, who I gather you know, to check on a couple of your grandfather’s devices and get some readings. He designed a couple of different systems related to time and alternate worlds. Some of the technology made it into the systems for navigating Infinity City. Anyway Lim wanted to know if there were any big changes this morning and there weren’t.

“There were echoes of changes from the late 50s, but nothing directly connected to this morning.”

He grinned, laughing as he said, “You hid your tracks well—not that you were trying to. Lim’s had to deal with some strange situations and they left a mark. It gets weird when two universes combine and form a new one. You wouldn’t believe it if you haven’t gone through it. I have and he’s right to want to know as soon as possible.”

Dad looked around at everyone. “I’m still trying to get my head around the idea that you, all of you have been involved, and I didn’t know anything. I know you couldn’t tell me. I know you tried more than once.”

Mom leaned over the counter to see him from the kitchen. “I tried, but I didn’t know either at first and you know that.”

She turned to Grandma. “Mom, I know you meant this for the best, but couldn’t there have been another way? We didn’t know anything. We couldn’t do anything and… I killed someone to keep Nick alive. I don’t regret it, but the only reason it was possible was because the block fell apart.”

Grandma glanced at the floor and seemed to shrink. In that moment, I felt that I could see every year she’d lived.

“I’m sorry, Joanie. After we left the inside of Lee’s weapon and came home, we had to figure it all out. We knew we wanted our children and grandchildren to live. They’d done their best to keep us alive and we had to do our best to prevent them from disappearing from the future. Between what Lee knew would happen and possibilities the Mentalist could see, we created a plan, and at every major decision point, we chose the one that would keep our children and grandchildren alive.

“Maybe there was a better plan, but we couldn’t see our way there. Whether we didn’t ask the right questions or asked them at the wrong time, this is the best we could do. I couldn’t be here or I’d risk destroying everything. If I could have, I’d have killed that man for you, but if I’d come back then, it would have changed everything for the worse.”

She let out a sigh, “I wish we could have done everything differently, but I don’t know how.”

We all stood without saying anything. I didn’t have anything to add. The League’s board had told us, probably because the Mentalist knew, that we were all at risk of dying before the age of 20. Instead, all of us had made it past 20 and only Travis had died so far.

While I couldn’t be happy about his death, knowing what I did, I suspected we might be living in one of the better options.

I glanced over at Mom, wondering if she wanted to argue. I couldn’t read her mind, but even though her mouth wasn’t open, her lips quivered.

I didn’t know exactly what she was feeling. I’d killed people before, but I hadn’t felt much when I did it. Instead, it lingered in my mind and came back later. I’d never killed anyone that I’d felt guilty about, but I still had dreams about the fights.

It might well have been that some of them had been mind-controlled by the Dominators in some way, but I didn’t know it for sure. That made it easier in a way, and honestly, it wasn’t as if I hadn’t tried to avoid it.

I felt confident that Lee and no doubt others would say I’d been overly scrupulous about avoiding it, but I’d tried to do the right thing. If I’d made a few mistakes in the process, I’d done my best and I had training to fall back on to give me options.

Mom didn’t have any of that. She’d seen me in danger and killed someone for the first time in her life and didn’t have training to prepare her for it.

Also, all of that had to be mixed with whatever abandonment she still might be feeling since Grandma had disappeared for around ten years and reappeared only now.

In that moment Dad said, “Thank you. I can’t imagine the choices that you’ve had to make and I know I wouldn’t want to make them myself. I’m sure they haven’t been easy for you. I know that we’ve all had challenges to face because of events that are out of anyone’s control. How about we all sit down? I have questions for Nick and Rachel. I’d like to understand the last few years from their point of view. I feel like I don’t understand anything and I’d like to.”

With that, Dad started asking about how it all got started. Rachel and I answered questions and after a few minutes it all came out, starting from when Cassie started bugging me about the League.

It reminded me a little of when I told it all to Govan, but now we were at home. Coffee and hot chocolate were in the cupboard in the same places they’d always been. There were snacks. We had comfortable chairs and no apocalypse hanging over our heads—at least for now.

Having a bit of the Rocket suit’s strength available because all of my clothes were now hidden stealth suits didn’t hurt. It made it easier to move the door around at least.

With that done, we shut the door behind us and walked down the hall past the living room and dining room and into the back of the house where the kitchen and family room were.

Passing the stairway, I noticed that our cat had taken up residence on the steps, watching Dad and I as we walked past.

Inside I saw Mom filling the coffeemaker with water as Grandma and Great-Aunt Selda sat on stools in the family room side of the counter. They both had empty mugs sitting on the counter next to them.

Rachel sat in the family room drinking something out of a can.

Seeing all of them together, it struck me how similar they all looked. Every one of them stood only a little shorter than I did. Thin with round cheeks and blue eyes, anyone who looked at them together would assume they were related.

Though I knew Great-Aunt Selda and Grandma had been blond when they were younger, their hair had turned white long ago. Mom and Rachel both had brown hair. Out of the group, only Mom had let her hair grow past her shoulders. The rest had short hair.

I knew Grandma and Great Aunt-Selda weren’t twins, but if they lied, they could have gotten away with it.

I wondered if their Ghost DNA brought along side effects that had nothing to do with superpowers, but Grandma interrupted my speculation by standing up and hugging me as I stepped into the room.

We’d greeted each other as I helped Dad with the door, but now she said, “I’m so sorry. I didn’t want to leave, but I couldn’t stay and simply watch. I had to be too far away to help or I would have.”

Grandma’s voice held only a hint of a German accent. Trained to be a spy, she didn’t have to even allow that tell. She could fake accents from all over the country and other countries. It wasn’t hard to guess how she’d used that skill during war, but in my childhood, she’d only used it to give characters in books silly accents for Rachel’s and my entertainment.

“It’s okay,” I said. “It all worked out in the end and you’re home now. Unless Godzilla steps on the house, we’ve still got time.”

Grandma laughed and let go of me. “We do have time for now, but not forever. I’m not one of the Ghosts. I’ll only live as long as any other person and I’ve been away for so long. I’m not afraid of a movie monster, but I’ve seen the Hundred Handed Ones and they’re terrifying. Disasters do happen in your job.”

Rachel looked up from her chair, “The hundred handed giants from Greek mythology are real?”

Great-Aunt Selda said, “They’re more than myth and more than simple giants. They may live forever.”

Her English was good, but no one would confuse her for a native speaker. Grandma had told us that Selda had been a child during the war and had never been trained as a spy. In fact, the Nazis used her to control Grandma’s behavior by claiming that they’d kill her if Grandma disobeyed.

It was only after they’d freed Selda that Grandma could help Grandpa without worrying that her sister would die.

I remembered back to Grandpa telling that story both before and after our changes to the past. Whether he was telling it as a man whose wife had died from cancer or as someone whose wife had gone to the stars rather than risk causing her grandchildren’s death, I couldn’t tell the difference in my memories.

Either way, you could hear his pride in who she was and that he’d felt her loss.

“Regardless,” Grandma said, “I won’t leave again. I never left fully. I visited Joe and looked in on the two of you. You grew up to become everything I hoped you’d be. The Mentalist said you might be different from the version of you we met in Lee’s weapon, but from what I’ve seen, you grew up to be every bit of the people I remember.”

Looking at Rachel, she said, “Thank you for saying something. I don’t know if I ever would have quit smoking if you hadn’t.”

“You wouldn’t have,” I said. “Rachel changed history by telling you so. Lee’s machine said it didn’t mess anything up. So it’s okay. I mean, it’s definitely better. I’m glad you’re alive. We grew up in a world where you weren’t.”

Grandma nodded, “The Mentalist told me when I needed to disappear to make everything work out the same way.”

From behind me, Dad said, “You changed history?”

Rachel smirked and said, “I hope you’re not going to ground us.”

Unlike the Xiniti message, hers came with video. 

She appeared as I remembered her: long, black hair, light brown skin, high cheekbones, and brown eyes. Unlike the last time I’d seen her, she wasn’t wearing a silver Xiniti armored suit—at least not visibly.

She wore red and white robes with golden trim. My implant decoded the symbolism for me. Though the robes were in the style of a traditional Ascendancy planetary governor, the traditional colors were black robes with trim made of bluish-green metal.

Red was the color of the rebellion against the Ascendancy.

Sitting at a desk in the same massive bedroom she’d messaged me from earlier, she said, “Nick, I know I sent you a message only a day or two ago, but I thought you’d find this interesting. I met a guy who knows you.

“One of the Xiniti’s human soldiers stopped by on the way back from a mission and as the official figurehead, I greeted them. You’ve got to help people feel like the movement cares and that the hell they went through matters.

“These people were special forces. We’d sent them behind enemy lines and they did everything we needed them to. The Xiniti auxiliary who’d led the raid was the most impressive of the bunch. From what I heard, he was incredibly meticulous and effective. When I asked his name, he said Ray. I knew that was an Earth name and I know you mentioned him.

“When I asked him if he’d heard of the Rocket, his eyes bugged out. I mean, you’ve met him… He keeps things close to the chest, but that was not a question he expected. He asked me how I knew the Rocket. The Xiniti must not have passed that on. Whoops. I told him I’d been to Earth and knew the whole team.

“He said to tell you that as far as he was concerned, you’re even. It all worked out for the best and he’s got nothing against you. He hopes it’s the same on your end.

“I hope that makes sense to you because all I know about him is that he went after your families and that he’s dead. I thought you ought to know that he’s not dead and he’s not coming back to Earth. I checked with Katuk. The Xiniti don’t intend to ever send him back to Earth. They’re aware of who he is to you.

“I hope you’re all alive. Everything seemed to be coming to a head when I left. I would have stayed if everything here wasn’t also blowing up. We’re in a calm moment, though. I might even be able to take a live call if I’m not in the middle of a meeting, other affairs of state, or planning an invasion. There are more of all of those than you’d think.

“You know what? It’s nice to send a message where I don’t have to hold back because I’m afraid of destroying someone’s morale. It’s going well, but being publicly upbeat all the time will kill me for sure. Anyway, don’t be a stranger and don’t worry about the revolution. It‘s not your problem. As for myself, I’m grateful I don’t have mushroom zombies. Your planet is completely insane. Later!”

I laughed as the picture faded out, hoping no one on the street thought I was crazy. On the other hand, it was fall in the late morning. Kids were in school and adults were at work or helping with the mushroom goo cleanup.

No one seemed to be outside. I composed a message to Kals complete with video and managed to send it off before I reached my parents’ house.

Two stories tall with brown bricks, the fall leaves on the lawn needing to be raked, it looked almost the same as it always had. The “almost” spanned a few terrifying minutes a few days back where we fought members of the Nine on the lawn and in the house’s basement.

The grass still bore scars from the fight and I noticed silvery streaks in at least three front windows. Those would need to be replaced. I hoped that wasn’t my fault. On the bright side, with the League’s policy of paying for our damage, I could get this fixed without raising suspicion. 

As Rachel had mentioned, Dad was at work on the front door—sort of.

The new door lay on the front walk in its white cardboard box. The old door, still twisted and warped from when I punched it, leaned against the house to the left of the front porch. A pile of tools lay next to a red, metal toolbox that Grandpa may have left here.

Dad stood on the porch, staring at the door frame with a frown on his face. Between the toolbox, jeans, and the thick flannel shirt, he looked like someone who should be good at fixing a broken door.

Dad was a good therapist. I’ll stop there.

He saw me as I started walking across the lawn, avoiding the new door. “Nick,” he said, “Rachel told me you were on the way. Do you mind helping me put the new door in? Grandma Vander Sloot is inside, but it shouldn’t take too long, should it?”

Cassie said nothing for a moment, but, letting out a breath, said, “How about we fix it for now? I like the idea of an upgrade, but I’d like my dad’s sword to work again before we start something new.”

I nodded. “I get it. Uh… So, I’m guessing that Tara’s going with Amy now. It makes sense and not just because Lee says to buddy up. If anyone’s got a background in switching worlds, Tara’s the best choice. Plus, if you want someone to who’s going to be good at gathering intelligence, she’s also one of the best options.”

Nodding, Cassie said, “Exactly. That’s what I was saying as you walked up. Are you going somewhere?”

Watching for their reactions, I said, “Home. It turns out that Grandma Vander Sloot isn’t dead and she’s back from power space.”

“Of course she’s not dead—” Cassie began and then said, “That’s a change. Do you know about any more?”

I shook my head. “None that matter, apparently. A couple of politicians didn’t get killed and replaced by shapeshifting aliens, but they voted for the same stuff anyway.”

Tara smiled, “Shapeshifters are like that. Infinity City had a few different kinds. The smart ones replace their targets perfectly. Sometimes it takes years to know the difference.”

Amy smirked. “You met the nice ones then. Where I come from, they’re more likely to replace you and start eating your friends and family.”

Cassie caught Tara’s eye. “Are you sure you want to go with her?”

Shrugging, Tara said, “We had that kind too. My parents killed a few.”

Tara didn’t show any special emotion on her face. Her parents were dead but not from that.

I took a step toward the elevator. “I should probably go.”

“You should,” Cassie said. “Take advantage of every moment you have with her..”

She glanced down at the pieces of her sword in my hands. I’d forgotten that I had them. Pointing at the hilt and blade shards, she asked. “Do you want me to put them in the lab?”

“Please do,” I said, handing them back to her.

“By the way,” she said, “I think upgrading is a great idea. I wasn’t blowing it off just now. If you want, we can talk about it tonight or whenever, I guess. We have all the time in the world now—at least until the next crisis.”

I laughed, told everyone I’d be back for the movie, and took the elevator up to the house, grabbing a jacket from the closet, and stepping out into the fall weather.

Everything with the mayor had started in the fall of my senior year of high school, not long after my grandfather’s death. If I traveled back in time, the house and the neighborhood wouldn’t have looked much different.

The grass might be a little longer than Grandpa would have kept it. Between the Nine and the vast mushroom zombie army, mowing hadn’t been my highest priority.

There had to be more cars in the driveway than there had been when my grandparents lived here. Vaughn’s sports car might be gone, but Amy, Tara, and Cassie all had cars that they used for getting around town when they weren’t in costume.

Not to mention, of course, that I still owned the white van that could be transformed into a catmecha if needed. As I walked away down the sidewalk, it sat in the driveway, stuck between the garage door and Cassie’s Honda.

The neighbors weren’t all the same. The people who’d owned the house where I’d accidentally shattered the picture window by throwing Future Knight’s gun had moved out years ago.

They were also the sort of people who would have complained to the city about my lawn being overly long, so no great loss.

I started down the block, sometimes noticing shriveled or rotting mushroom goo in strips next to the road. The plows couldn’t get everything.

Behind the fence next to the entrance of Veterans Memorial Park, I noticed a 20 foot long sheet. It wasn’t the only one on the grounds.  The 30 to 40 degree weather must have kept it cold enough that it hadn’t separated into smaller rotting bits.

I didn’t look forward to when it did, but I supposed the city would get to it after clearing downtown.

No one sat at the picnic tables or used the playground equipment. So, the city probably wasn’t getting enough complaints yet. I wondered if the beach was mushroom goo free, but I didn’t have time to check. 

From this distance all I could see were trees and the dark waters of the lake behind them.

As I walked, my implant notified me that I had messages that had arrived via the ansible network. One of them was from the Xiniti high command, notifying me that Xiniti soldiers would be returning to the station at the Mars LaGrange point. When they did, we were no longer the only Xiniti in the system and solely responsible for the weapons designed to exterminate humanity should something go wrong.

The other message was from Kals.

At that point, I would have said that my grandmother, Romy Vander Sloot had died when I was ten or eleven. She had lung cancer from a lifetime of smoking. Despite that, she’d been healthy until the last year or two of her life.

After she’d died, Grandpa had lived alone in the house they’d shared for almost another decade, spending most of it teaching me his technology and creating tools for other heroes.

My new memories told a different story.

Grandma gave up smoking in the 1960s. When asked why, she’d said, “Because I wanted to live to see my grandchildren,” and ruffled Rachel’s hair.

Grandpa never had to live without her. She was there throughout middle school and high school, giving her several more years to teach Rachel about her abilities as well as birthdays and holidays to spend with all of us.

In the middle of all of those small changes, I also remembered one that cast a big shadow. After fighting the Abominators, the League visited the Reclamation Alliance, encountering the Cosmic Ghosts on the way.

They’d recognized themselves in her. She didn’t have enough of their abilities to join them, but had trained with them for a time. She’d always wanted to go back, but between supervillains, children, and grandchildren, she’d never had time. 

When Grandpa died, she did and she wasn’t alone. 

She left Earth with our great aunt Selda, her younger sister. She’d said they’d come back, but we’d heard nothing from her since they’d left.

As that wave of information passed through my mind, I paused, taking it all in, and finally came back to reality.

“Wow,” I told Rachel. “I hadn’t thought about Grandma yet. This would be a crazy coincidence, but is she back?”

“Good guess,” Rachel replied. “And it’s not as much of a coincidence as you’d think. The Ghosts have been watching for the GCD to show up and everyone knew that I’d left for home.”

Other possibilities popped up in my head—messy possibilities. “Did you see her when you were with the Ghosts? At least in the new version of history?”

“No,” she said, her voice carrying all of the disorientation I felt. “And it would have been a lot of work, but I think I know why. You do too.”

The original League worried about the same thing we had when we were in the GCD. No one wanted to destroy our history.

“How’s she doing?”

Rachel laughed. “Great. She’s talking with Mom, Dad, and Uncle Steve. I think she’s home for good now. Do you know how crazy this is? We couldn’t have had this conversation when she left, but now the block’s gone, and we aren’t keeping secrets from family anymore.

“Come home right now. You can talk to Grandma and help Dad with the door. You know he’ll need it. What are you doing anyway?”

If I was honest with myself, nothing that I couldn’t do later. It wasn’t everyday that a chance remark from your sister brought your grandmother back from the dead. It may not be a big event from the vantage of the GCD’s time analysis systems, but it was to our family.

I logged out of the computer, shed almost all of my suit, leaving only enough material for my stealth suit plus a “backpack” made of extra stuff, and walked out of the lab.

Amy, and Tara sat at one of the plastic and metal tables in the break area. Cassie stood next to it, glancing over at the elevator as if she were just about to go.

Everyone wore normal clothing, jeans and t-shirts (more or less). Amy wore a modern blouse with enough lace and ruffles to hint at the Victorian or Edwardian sensibilities of her home. 

Cassie wore a hoodie. Tara’s t-shirt showed a red and white checkered ball, advertising AmigaOS 25. I suspected it had to be old clothes from Infinity City. It definitely wasn’t from our universe.

As I walked toward the elevator, I heard Cassie say, “I want to go, but I think you’re right. It should be Tara.”

Amy pursed her lips. “I don’t think anyone should have to come along. I don’t want to inconvenience the team. You have your own lives. If we learned anything today, it’s that League needs everyone they can get sometimes.”

“But not all the time,” Tara said. “They can spare me for a few months.”

Cassie met my eyes for a moment, but continued the conversation, telling Amy, “You know as well as anyone that Lee constantly tells us to buddy up. You don’t know when you’re going to go down and need someone else to get you out, provide first aid, or call for help.”

Amy’s lips curled, “I know, but I’m okay with dying to save my family. I’m not okay with you dying.”

Tara reached out and gave her hand a squeeze. “Dying to save someone’s family would be worth it.”

Amy’s opened her mouth, stopped, but then said, “You don’t owe me that, but if you want to help I’ll take it. The previous Bloodmaidens agree with you.”

“Good,” Cassie said, turning to me and holding out the shattered pieces of her sword, “Do you think you can fix it?”

I took them, careful not to touch the monofilament edge of the blade. “It doesn’t look that bad. It’s broken, but still doable. The worst case scenario is that I have to build out the edge all over again and reforge the blade, but I think we might even have a spare. Grandpa used to repair one while the other was working to prepare for the inevitable destruction. Your dad was hard on technology.”

Cassie nodded, “I know.”

Of course, she’d now been removed from the triggering situation for days. So, she might not be affected.

I set my implant to remind me to respond to Courtney later. Thanks to Hal sending out messages to more than one hundred heroes and groups in my name, I had several times that many responses. Thanks to Hal, most of them wouldn’t need a personal response, but a few deserved it.

One of them was from Prentkos.

“I have been wondering when this day would come since you returned me to my own time. When our team leader called us in for a mission based on messages from the Heroes’ League, I knew it had arrived. I will confess to be a little disappointed not to have received a personal message, but you hadn’t met me yet, had you? I’m sure that you need some time for recovery, but consider yourself as having an open invitation to visit the Euro Team base in Brussels.

“Please call ahead before you come, however. It’s my hope to have a conversation with you that isn’t interrupted by combat. We both know, of course, that even if it seems slow here, there are no guarantees.”

I laughed, added Prentkos’ message to the reminder list, and moved on to the next, finding a collection of messages from Working Man, V8, Mateo, the Detroit Unity team, and the Hamsters (Rembrandt, Vincent, and Hieronymous).

They weren’t personal. Hal had sent them to take out the Nine’s base in Detroit, a few independent heroes that turned out to be plants from the Nine, and a National Guard officer in the local powered armor unit.

They had to take out the entire unit before it was over, helped by another Detroit hero who appeared to have power over small mammals. As much as it might be painful to fight Working Man or V8’s mech, I suspected the Nine’s Detroit operatives would be having nightmares about rats for the rest of their lives—to say nothing of humanoid hamsters.

Vincent did leave a personal message at the end and so did Mateo AKA Blue Mask. Vincent’s went, “Holy shit, kid. I just saw footage from the island end of things. Can’t believe the vampires are on your side this time. On the other hand, unlike the bozos we fought together, Dr. Transylvania’s no fool. Did the Nine think to throw rice? Let me know sometime.”

Mateo’s message started with a laugh. “You remember how Working Man told you he didn’t want us getting involved with the League’s problems? When he saw that you wanted us to take out a couple of city council members, I think that he almost fainted. Getting rid of those two may have been his greatest personal fantasy. I can’t say for sure, but he might be proud of having had you here. I thought you ought to know. Let me know when you’re next on this side of the state.”

I added the two of them to my list and managed to get through the rest. After I replied to everyone on my list, I checked the news, reading story after story about teams that we’d emailed with evidence and a plan, sometimes getting to watch a bit of the action.

I also got to watch the odd commentator who managed to become apoplectic about why, if we’d managed to collect this much evidence, we hadn’t acted sooner? Another asked how the Heroes’ League could have gotten access to all of this information. That was a smarter question than the first. If we allowed interviews, we’d have to hide the AIs’ involvement.

Then I asked myself (and my implant) another question, what had we changed?

I knew we’d changed something thanks to the GCD’s message. My implant, however, replied with answers I hadn’t expected.

Xiniti implants were designed for the possibility that any given Xiniti soldier might visit a parallel universe. So when we arrived and the implant connected to the nearest ansible for updates, it noted changes in the newly downloaded history by comparison to what it had before.

There weren’t many changes—in part because the Xiniti didn’t care about Earth history except as it impacted them and in part because there weren’t many.

Back in the 1970s when the Heroes’ League fought the last remnant of the Abominators, the Heroes’ League had found two of them in government. They hadn’t been high up. They’d been state representatives in Arizona and Missouri.

In the new history we’d come back to, they’d never existed. Those were the Abominators I’d killed during the fight with Magnus, so they’d never shapeshifted into human form and gone into government. I hadn’t killed all of the Abominators, though, just those two.

So the Heroes’ League fought the rest just like before. The two I’d killed hadn’t used their influence to change the world in disturbing ways. They’d fit in and stayed out of trouble. In the new history, the humans in their place hadn’t acted much differently.

What it meant that normal human politicians didn’t act much differently than evil aliens that had been warped by the Destroy faction’s artifact traps, I didn’t dare speculate.

All the same, I began to feel as if I’d missed an important difference. I couldn’t say what, but I felt sure that if I asked the right question everything would fall into place.

As I searched my memory, trying to think it through, Rachel contacted me via the League’s comm system, “Have you thought about Grandma?”

In the end, it wasn’t a long trip. I took the jet up to a high altitude and then aimed the jet downward toward Grand Lake.

We didn’t have any trouble with intercepting planes, missiles, or paranoid supers. Instead, we dropped into the lake, entered through the underwater entrance, and emerged in the base.

After the water drained from the airlock, I floated the jet into the hangar. 

We were home. It wasn’t even 8 AM.

After we’d showered and put away our costumes, everyone paused in the break area. Kayla had picked up breakfast. Whether it was amazing or merely okay, in that moment, it was amazing, not to mention somehow hot enough that it could have come straight from the kitchen.

At least that’s how I remember it. I may be deluding myself. Fitting the pseudo-Waffle House style of the restaurant, there were waffles, sausage, bacon, eggs, toast, and biscuits with sausage gravy.

Also there were lots of them. Supers ate more than most people to begin with, but there were a bunch of us… Haley, Marcus, Jaclyn, Cassie, Amy, Tara, Izzy, Daniel, Camille, Sydney, Julie, Chris, Kayla, Rachel, and I. We’d invited Dayton, Sean, and Jody, but they were bringing Jody to their team doctor.

He’d woken up on the way back and seemed okay, if confused, but the implant modifications hadn’t faded away. They needed to be catalogued and understood.

I couldn’t blame them and honestly, I couldn’t say I minded. As much as he’d been through a hellish experience and I hoped he’d get the therapy and medical attention he needed, I’d been in fights against him three times in the last two days. I didn’t want a fourth.

Near the end of the meal, Cassie said, “I don’t know what you’re doing today, but does anyone want to watch a movie tonight?”

Haley looked up from her plate. “My parents are planning Travis’ funeral today. Since we’re home, I should help, but I might be able to.”

Daniel and Izzy looked at each other and answered, “Sure,” at almost the same time, having most likely had a short telepathic conversation.

By the time we were done, almost everyone could make it. Personally, I decided to play it by ear. If Haley needed me, but wasn’t up for a group of people after family stuff, I’d do something with her.

We kissed as she left, telling me, “I’ll tell you what I’m doing by  three. We’ve made a lot of decisions already. I’ll know if I’m up for people by then.”

Then she stepped into the elevator and the doors closed.

I turned to find Rachel behind me.

“I should have caught the elevator with her and gone home, but I missed a lot. You told me Dad knows now, that Uncle Steve’s here, that Travis died, and that the Dominators messed with Ana, but only in snippets. I want to hear all of it in order and in detail.”

So that’s what we did for the next hour or two. We sat in the break area talking through it and it wasn’t just us. Amy and Tara, the only members of the group that didn’t have families to go home to here, stuck around and helped.

When we were done, Rachel stood up, “Okay. Now I’m going home. I can’t believe you didn’t tell me that Mom killed Number Eight. That’s crazy. And practically in front of Dad and Uncle Steve and in our basement?”

“They seem okay,” I said. “I thought I had, but I guess I didn’t. It’s been one thing after another since Major Justice went after us. Oh… I didn’t see it till just now, but Dad sent me a text saying he’s putting in a new front door himself. All the local handymen are working on mushroom zombie damage. It’s probably a good sign that he’s trying.”

Rachel frowned, “Only if he does better than when he fixed the bathroom door. I think we both need to get home as soon as possible.”

The bathroom door did stick a lot after that, but cutting off the bottom quarter inch fixed it.

“There are a couple things I want to check on first,” I told her. “I’ll probably be an hour, but not longer.”

Crossing her arms and meeting my eyes, she said, “It better not be longer,” but she still left.

I walked into my lab, logged into the computer and found myself greeted by an avalanche of messages. I would have seen them through the comm system except that I’d set a status that allowed Hal to filter any messages from people outside the mission and respond to any that were important.

On a practical level that meant that an AI called Our Mutual Friend might have loosed steampunk style battlemechs on anyone who attacked the League’s families. While I’d told Hal that I didn’t feel comfortable releasing their locations, but he’d told me, “No need. OMF already knows, but he interacted with Lee after individuals in Syndicate L learned your identity and won’t reveal anything.”

Lee had once told me that people in Syndicate L who’d learned my identity had met with, “unfortunate blender accidents.”

I’d told him not to do that again, but hadn’t looked into it too deeply. I didn’t need to know whether it had been a literal or metaphorical blender.

Anyway, most of the messages were from other hero groups that Hal sent messages about the Nine and their assets to. They asked for confirmation and he’d successfully pretended to be me.

From the news alerts that continued to pop up, I couldn’t complain because the last few hours had been a metaphorical bloodbath for the Nine, their mind controlled assets, and businesses. It hadn’t been great for Syndicate L either. A number of their top people had been mind controlled assets.

The other messages came from friends who’d been in the hero groups. Courtney had been hired by a super group secret enough that she wouldn’t tell anyone its name, only that they were on the edge of something big and she couldn’t talk about it.

Her most recent message said, “Hal, thanks for admitting it’s been you, but could you make sure the Rocket sees this one? Rocket? I just watched what you’ve been doing on the island. We should have been coordinating with the League the whole time.

“We discovered that Goldenlash, leader of the Seattle Sentinels was working with the Nine willingly and turned his whole team. Hal just handed us the evidence we’d been missing and the opportunity to catch them in the act. Thanks for that. Oh, and Stephanie says hi. We used her mind control symbols a lot.”