Consolidation: 13:04:12:21

  We gathered in Marko’s apartment, number two, and munched on some pizza. It took some negotiation, but we eventually settled on a white pizza with chicken and bacon. It was somehow comforting to be able to order delivery, even if security called to ask if we expected an order. It felt normal.

  Marko’s apartment looked exactly like my apartment, and Aria said they were all alike. A pair of old, cradle, push-button phones had appeared in the apartment; one in the living room and one in the bedroom. A remote had also appeared and Marko put on The Bourne Ultimatum in the background.

  “What have we discovered?” Marko said, helping himself to a second piece of pizza.

  “HR, or at least Harper, is grabbing shareholder certs so they can’t be reissued,” I said.

  “That Jamra bitch is probably in on it, too,” Aria said. “The Chief of Compliance has to know something’s up.”

  “I wonder where they’re keeping the certs?” I said. “It can’t be as easy as raiding Harper’s office, right?”

  “I doubt it,” Marko said. “I’d imagine they’re keeping the documents offsite. No reason to risk someone stumbling across them.”

  “If we could catch Compliance out during a raid, we could tail them,” I said.

  “I don’t think we have that kind of time,” Marko said. “And we have no idea when another retiree might kick it.”

  “I could shoot Hobbs,” Aria said.

  We stared at her.

  “I was kidding! Kidding! I’d never do that to Mr. Chips.”

  Marko took another bite of pizza and chewed, his eyes distant like he was thinking about something. I watched Matt Damon shoot at some dudes and realized everyone in the movie was a human. Huh. That was odd.

  “I wonder,” Marko said. “What HR would do if they found out a retiree was about to sell their share?”

  “Octar said it’s discouraged,” I said. “Your retiree would probably wake up to find Compliance kicking down their door.”

  “Hmm,” Marko said.

  Marko (SausageFest): Hey Kaius, do you know any good forgers?

  Kaius (SausageFest): I know a couple of individuals with some talent.

  Marko (SausageFest): If I sent you a picture, would that be enough to work with?

  Kaius (SausageFest): If you can’t bring the original, multiple pictures would be best. Front and back. Different angles.

  Marko (SausageFest): Thanks. I’ll keep you informed.

  “What are you thinking?” Aria said.

  “Mr. Hobbs is never going to lend us his certificate,” Marko said. “He doesn’t trust us enough for that, Presence or no. I bet he’d let us take pictures, though.”

  “Make a copy to use as bait?” Aria said.

  Marko nodded.

  “Exactly. We let HR know someone is selling a share, we don’t even have to say who. If we include our descriptions as buyers, I think we’ll get Harper’s attention. I’ll have Kaius change the certificate number so Hobbs doesn’t get any blowback.”

  “We’ll have to come up with a good location and solid plan,” I said. “One with an escape hatch. I don’t think Harper will buy it if we murder her goons and just leave the cert lying around.”

  “Keep an eye out tomorrow when we’re driving around,” Marko said. “We could also consider using one of the vacant addresses.”

  “When we visit Hobbs again, I’ll have to bring Mr. Chips a treat,” Aria said.

  “Start thinking about a plan,” Marko said. “Even if we get the pictures to Kaius tomorrow, I expect it’ll take a day or two to make a counterfeit certificate.”

  “I still think it’d be easier to follow Harper home from work and double tap the bitch,” Aria said.

  “The problem with killing people,” I said. “Is they try to kill you back.”

  “Let’s see if it’s possible to take a sector without violence,” Marko said. “We still have twelve days to capture five hexes.”

  Aria grumbled but started on another piece of pizza rather than complaining out loud.

  “I found the logbook very interesting,” Marko said. “Did either of you notice anything unusual about it?”

  “The only thing I noticed was that it smelled like peppermint,” I said.

  Aria, her mouth full, shook her head.

  “The most recent date was October 12, 2008.” Marko said.

  If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it.

  “So what?” Aria said. “We know HR has been rigging the system. Maybe that’s the last time a share was awarded.”

  “That doesn’t seem likely,” I said. “Someone would have noticed if no one got a share for almost twenty years.”

  “Then Harper did get to the logbook,” Aria said. “It’s been altered.”

  “I don’t think so,” Marko said. He turned to look at the TV. “When did this movie come out?”

  “No idea,” I said, confused by the change of topic. “2010 maybe?”

  “I checked,” Marko said. “It was 2007. The BlackBerry has Google, at least. Does anything about the movie seem off to you?”

  “It only has human actors,” I said, immediately. “I noticed that, too. It does seem odd.”

  “They must of gotten it from Earth,” Aria said. “Plenty of Earth stuff here, other than us I mean.”

  “I’m thinking something similar,” Marko said. “One last thing. What year is the Bentley?”

  “Um, 2005?” I said.

  Marko nodded.

  “I told you I had a theory? I think the logbook goes a long way toward proof. The logbook, the primitive internet, the car, the music even. Have either of you seen a calendar? Or anything with a date on it other than the logbook?”

  “Nope,” Aria said. “Just the day of the week.”

  “I only know today is Saturday because of the sign at your club,” I said.

  “I believe that, wherever and whatever Anera is, it’s based on Earth circa 2008. Maybe 2010. It explains so much.”

  “That’s crazy,” Aria said. “It was 2021 when I fell asleep.” She saw our surprise and frowned. “What?”

  “Last I checked it was 2022,” I said. “March.”

  “Oh boy,” Marko said. “It was January for me. January 2026.”

  The sound of the movie filled the silence.

  “What the fuck does that mean?” Aria said.

  “I’m not sure,” Marko admitted. “I hadn’t expected we’d come from different times. Just that the year was wrong.”

  I felt a sudden wave of despair wash over me. Some part of me, someplace deep inside, had believed, truly believed, that I could escape this place and go home. Now, that was impossible. Even if I did somehow escape, I’d been gone for years. At least four years, if Marko was right. My old life was over. It might not have been the best life ever, but it was mine. I sighed and put down my half-eaten slice of pizza.

  I looked at the others. Marko looked sad but resigned. He’d only figured out part of it, but that seemed like enough to blunt the loss. Aria, predictably, looked pissed. Super pissed. As angry as I’d ever seen her. She threw her pizza at the TV and it splatted against the screen, leaving grease and white sauce behind. She stood up, fists clenched and rushed to the bathroom. The door slammed shut behind her. I could just make out the sound of sobs between the scream of swear words.

  “Maybe I shouldn’t have said anything,” Marko said, staring toward the bathroom.

  “No, you did the right thing,” I said. “We deserve to know. That doesn’t keep it from sucking.”

  Adam (GM): Hey Victor, sorry, I know this isn’t a good time, but you’re going to have visitors.

  Victor: That fits with the evening.

  Adam (GM): Someone figured out an exploit. These guys are from a sector you don’t even know about. They aren’t controlled by anyone, and usually they’d just stay put, but they can react to external threats, just like any defense resource. Our mutual frenemy has convinced them you’re a threat, and while they can’t attack control points, they can attack you. I closed the loophole, but it’s too late to stop them.

  Victor: How many and where?

  Adam (GM): I see twelve. That’s the standard number for reconnaissance in force. They’re coming in through the lobby. Turn to channel 99 and have a look for yourself.

  I picked up the remote and changed the channel to 99. The screen was divided into four different streams, and none had sound. One showed the jann doorman outside, the next featured the fane security guard, the third was a shot from inside the elevator, and the last showed the hallway between our apartments. I saw a man dressed in urban camo approach the doorman. The two exchanged words, then the man pulled a pistol and shot the jann in the face.

  “Aria!” I yelled. “We’re going to have company!”

  “Goddammit!” Marko said. “Who are these assholes?”

  “Adam warned me,” I said. “Something about an exploit.”

  “At least we’re all in the same room.”

  Aria burst from the bathroom, eyes red and her ?korpion clenched in her right hand.

  “Some motherfuckers picked the wrong day to try me,” she said.

  She was shaking but I couldn’t tell if it was from rage, fear, loss, or some mix of all of the above. Aria stalked over to us and looked at the screen. More people in urban camo were outside the lobby, banging on the glass with a compact battering ram. It looked like a mix of humans, gobbeks, and fane. They all carried some kind of gun I didn’t recognize. The weapon wasn’t quite as long as a rifle but looked bulkier than a submachine gun. I didn’t see a clip, but I did see strange coils where the action should be located. The coils glowed an arctic blue.

  “I have no idea what those guns are,” Aria said. “Bullpup design looks kind of like a Steyr AUG. Those coils must be technomancy.”

  The ram shattered the glass door and gunfire immediately answered through the opening, forcing the attackers to duck for cover. I glanced over to the lobby screen and saw the security guard had set up some kind of machine gun and was firing bursts toward the door. Aria grinned.

  “Classic,” she said. “That’s a M-60. I wish I’d known he had that.”

  Grenades sailed in through the broken door, spewing smoke. More grenades followed and these flashed with a light so bright it whited out the picture for a minute. Aria grimaced.

  “I’m glad we can’t hear that,” she said. “Flashbangs. They’ll be coming for that M-60 any time now.”

  The smoke made it hard to see what was happening, but we could see muzzle flashes. Stuttering streams of blue light focused on the guard’s location, and we didn’t see any more fire from the M-60.

  “Huh,” Aria said. “That looks like tracer fire. Those guys are either brave or stupid. Tracers are great for correcting aim, but it lets everyone know exactly where you are. I bet it has something to do with those coils.”

  The smoke cleared slightly as more doors opened, letting the rest of the attackers into the lobby. I saw a pair of them by the elevator doors. They tried the button and it didn’t seem to work. One of them pulled out a heavily modified magifone and started typing away. A few minutes passed and the elevator doors slid open.

  “That’s interesting,” Marko said. “I didn’t know you could use the phones like that.”

  Eight gunmen crammed themselves into the elevator and one hit the up button. The elevator started to ascend.

  “I guess we should get ready,” I said, feeling oddly calm or maybe just numb. “You wanna hit them with Besotted when they get off the elevator?”

  “Hell yes,” Aria said. “No survivors.”

  “Hold on,” Marko said. He was still watching the screen. “Something’s happening.”

  The people in the elevator were banging on the doors and one of them was looking upward, arms extended, searching for a hatch. Then the car’s lights flickered and they slammed up into the ceiling. I blinked, confused.

  “Oh shit,” Aria said. “They’re falling.” She burst into ugly laughter.

  She was right, but not for long. The picture rocked in place then blacked out. I felt a shudder go through the building and heard the very faintest sound of a crash.

  Adam (GM): Did you guys do that?

  Victor: Do what? The elevator? No, I thought it was a security measure.

  Adam (GM): Absolutely not. Someone made that elevator fall.