Beatrice:

  “Are you with me or are you against me?” I asked.

  Jackie shifted uncomfortably, kicking at the concrete with those useless cloth shoes the villagers wear. She was an easy target without her pet phoenix.

  “If I give you my blood, you have to stop creating mutants and massive fire portals. Leave the people of Bennu Island alone,” Jackie said meekly, combing the red streak in her greasy hair.

  “Done,” I promised. “I don’t want to hurt anyone else. I won’t create such large fire portals either.”

  “Don’t you mean you’ll stop creating any fire portals?” She blushed.

  I chuckled. “I may still need some to enact my… our plans, but I’ll keep them small and contained. You’ll see. Business negotiations are much easier after you’ve explored the probabilities.”

  “See, I can’t trust you…”

  “Jackie, I’m being forthcoming. They’ll be manageable, I promise. It won’t affect the people on this island. I’ll keep my carbon footprint to a minimum.”

  Jackie rolled her eyes.

  “How about this? I’ll build the world’s largest indoor fireplace. I’ll get my tech department on it right away. They can invent anything I want.”

  “Okay.” She bit her lip. “That sounds like a good idea.”

  I smiled and gave her a hug. A deep, genuine hug despite the overwhelming sulfur scent that oozed from her pores.

  We sat in our embrace for several moments.

  I left the hug first, grabbed Jackie’s hands, and looked her in the eyes.

  She perked up at the attention.

  “Welcome to the family business, Jackie.”

  She gulped, a flicker of doubt in her eyes.

  “Let me show you to your room. I’ve got big plans to revamp the Camp Claudi complex, but you’ll find the north wing comfortable enough.” I beckoned her inside.

  She paused at the threshold, but I coaxed her forward.

  “Come, Jackie. The dawn of a new age is upon us.”

  She followed me inside. Despite her reservations, together, we would blaze a new trail to reshape our family legacy.

  *

  Several weeks later, I strolled through the bustling corridor of the Bennu complex, or Camp Claudi, as Mark used to call it.

  Brent from accounting stopped me to sign payroll checks. Gilda from the skincare department asked for my opinion on the new face cream packaging, and Mary promised the caterer would arrive on time from the mainland with plenty of time to prepare for the party.

  I asked each one if they’d seen Jackie and received a resounding no.

  Where is she?

  I walked to the library and pulled the pendulum of the grandfather clock in the corner. The face opened into a secret passageway to my security room.

  Stepping inside, I greeted Spencer, my top guard since Striker mysteriously went missing.

  “Have you seen Jackie?” I asked.

  “She went into her Kiln Room yesterday morning, and hasn’t come out since. Want to put a hidden camera in there?” He sat in front of a wall of screens that spied on every inch of the complex except my private quarters.

  “That won’t be necessary. Pull up the library feed.”

  With the press of a button, surveillance footage of the library displayed on the middle screen. “The coast is clear, boss.”

  I left the secret room without being detected.

  Making my way to Jackie’s Kiln Room, I made pleasantries with every employee I passed. It was nice to see Camp Claudi fully operational again. It felt like a second chance to replace spoiled memories with new ones.

  I knocked on the door of Jackie’s Kiln Room, but there was no answer, so I scanned my DNA Identifier to enter.

  Inside, Jackie had passed out in front of her state-of-the-art fireplace-like device in the center of the space.

  The hearth itself was vast enough to roast whole trees. Thick iron grates, forged by master blacksmiths, framed the contraption that dominated the large room.

  I told Jackie I wouldn’t make any more uncontrolled fires and had stayed true to my word. My tech department is the best on the planet and wouldn’t dare ask me why I needed such things.

  “Wake up.” I grabbed Jackie’s hand, and it flopped back onto the sofa.

  She was unconscious and in the Slipstream.

  “Look at this mess.” I turned the Kiln off and picked up the garbage lying around her; candy wrappers, soda cans, and crumpled notes.

  She now had all the money in the world, but still treated her body like trash.

  With the world’s second-best wardrobe, after mine, of course, she was still living in her sweatpants. This bum had a lot to learn.

  “What’s this?” Next to her lay a notebook. I picked it up and found what looked like a map of Slipstream portals. Arrows littered the page, going every which way, as well as scratched out and circled musings.

  What is she seeking?

  Jackie awoke with a snort.

  I set her notebook down.

  Her eyes took several moments to focus. Her brain was back online a few beats after.

  She looked at me with wild eyes before squinting to check if I was real. “Beatrice? What are you doing here?”

  “Jackie, you’re still leaving your body behind when you go into the Slipstream. That will age you faster than a chain-smoking sunbather. Treat yourself with a little respect.”

  “Whatever. The creams and fillers you’re paying for will deal with it, yeah?” She stretched like a lazy cat.

  “How long have you been in the Slipstream? Going in too often will get you addicted. You might struggle to stay connected to this reality. Don’t get sloppy and lose the plot.”

  “Alright, fine. Stop nagging.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “I said fine.” She rolled her eyes with dramatic flair.

  With a fake smile, I reminded her, “The party starts tonight at seven. I’ll have an outfit laid out for you.”

  “Can I at least pick the color?”

  I cringed, imagining the Page Six nightmare. “Call Jeffrey in the wardrobe department. He’ll arrange everything.”

  That satisfied Jackie’s hostility for now, so I asked, “What are you searching for in the Slipstream, anyway?”

  She didn’t answer at first, but I’ve found that awkward silences force Jackie to divulge things. She can’t stand the quiet. It makes her too uncomfortable.

  Shifting on the couch, she answered on cue. “I’m looking for Firestorm to make sure he’s okay…”

  I nodded.

  After another beat of awkward silence, she answered my next unspoken question.

  “I can’t find him.”

  I sat on the couch, feigning sympathy, and rubbed Jackie’s arm.

  Honestly, I was glad to be rid of him. I felt for the boy… creature… I did. But this was a new era in Life Rite’s history.

  Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.

  “Why dwell on the mistakes of the past? Look forward to your exhilarating future.” I grabbed Jackie’s hands and looked into her eyes.

  She liked when I gave her my undivided attention. With this simple tactic, she was my most captive audience.

  “I’m sorry about Firestorm, but you can’t let him stop you from living your best life. He’s stuck in the past. You can’t carry people like that, even if you want to.”

  “What’s wrong with trying to change the past?” Jackie asked. “Isn’t that what the Slipstream is all about?”

  “Heavens no. Look at Firestorm, stuck in a loop trying to be with Grace. He torments himself, unable to move forward with his life.”

  Jackie inhaled my advice. She had a thirst for knowledge of how it all worked.

  “Look at me as a superior example. I’m only interested in future probabilities, and I’m thriving. Do you see the difference?” I pointed to my fabulous dress, my shiny skin and hair, outward evidence of success.

  Jackie shrugged her shoulders. “I guess so.”

  I explained further. “In the Slipstream, the most probable path gets written. Your attention makes the desired stream more probable. You have the power to choose what happens by focusing your energy on that future spark.”

  “But Firestorm said he could save Grace. He said we could change the past. It must be possible.”

  Her insistence on this topic irritated me, so I spoke sharply.

  “Don’t you think I want to be with Mark every day? But that’s not healthy. Trust me… Do you want to be a Flyer or waste away like Firestorm?”

  Jackie grabbed her notebook and held it close to her chest. “I need to go in again to figure things out. Just one more time.”

  I wagged my finger at her. “Don’t waste your energy on the past, Jackie.”

  “Yeah, I hear you.” She shrugged.

  “Go get dressed. Don’t be late for the party.”

  “I promise, I’ll be on time. Hey, what’s up with all your drones flying around in the Slipstream? It’s creepy.”

  “Drones with an “s” as in plural?” I asked.

  “Yeah, I saw a bunch floating around in there.”

  I cocked my head.

  I allowed one drone into the Slipstream. Alpha, my most trusted, the one that Mark built. The one I brought to life with an injection of Life Rite serum.

  My tech team cheaply produced all other drones with minimal programs, such as facial recognition or our one-hour wrinkle cream delivery service.

  “Thanks for telling me. I’ll do something about it.”

  “Awesome, thanks. I’ll be ready for the party on time,” Jackie promised. “Do you think everyone will… like me? I’ve never been to a fancy High Flyer event.”

  “You’ll be great.” I patted her cheek.

  “What should I talk about?”

  I squinted. “You don’t remember what you learned in your media training class?”

  “It’s all a blur.” She grimaced.

  “Stick to the script. You’re my long-lost daughter. I kept you tucked away from the spotlight so you could have a normal childhood.”

  Jackie snorted. “Mother and daughter? How old are you?”

  “A wise woman never tells. I don’t look a day over thirty, so even being your mother is a stretch. Hmmm, maybe I should have said aunt or sister. It’s hard to be immortally gorgeous, always keeping up with appearances.”

  “I’m sure.” She sighed.

  “Now, let’s focus on what not to talk about.”

  “Okay…” Jackie’s leg bounced.

  “Don’t mention your actual childhood, anything about your past, certainly not your time as a janitor. Stick to the new narrative. Also try to avoid religion and politics.”

  Jackie scratched her forehead.

  “Just be yourself.”

  She nodded, the corner of her mouth twitching.

  I smiled and left the room.

  Once alone in the hallway, my lips fell into a frown as I contemplated what Jackie had said about the drones.

  I never injected serum into other drones like I had with Alpha. They had limited capabilities, and their programming had nothing to do with the Slipstream.

  How did they get in?

  I hit a button on my watch, summoning Alpha.

  It zipped toward me on command.

  “Let’s walk and talk.” I sauntered down the corridor, and it followed. “Alpha, send Jeffrey in the wardrobe department a message not to let Jackie pick her own dress for tonight. We have some extremely high-level people attending, not to mention the press.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Did the media trainer leave the island already?”

  “Yes,” Alpha said.

  “Too bad. Also, send a Duster into Jackie’s Kiln Room to clean. It looks like a crack den.”

  “Affirmative,” Alpha replied.

  “Excellent. Any other news to report?” I asked, fishing for information about its access to the Slipstream.

  “Yes, we have been busy gathering all statistical probabilities available in the Slipstream.”

  “We?” My heart skipped a beat.

  “May I show you the findings?”

  It hadn’t answered the “we” question yet, but I nodded for it to proceed.

  It spat out a holographic chart.

  I stopped walking to look at it, but the graph made no sense to me. “Explain.”

  “The calculations are quite clear. Every probability points to the same ultimate conclusion.”

  “And what is that?” I crossed my arms and tapped my foot.

  “In the end, humans always face extinction. Natural disasters due to climate change, war, gravitational shifts, a deadly virus… It’s inevitable that humanity dies off.”

  I laughed. “Don’t believe everything you read in a newspaper, Alpha. The world has always been in crisis. It always will be. But growth comes through adversity.”

  “Please elaborate,” Alpha said.

  How can I describe humanity to a machine? I thought for a beat.

  “Here’s an example. Take the PX virus. That illness isn’t real. It was an elaborate ruse I concocted to find my granddaughter and more Carriers. Things aren’t always as doom and gloom as they seem. Got it?”

  There, that should satisfy his robotic curiosity.

  “Yes, but it was easy to convince the government to enforce the PX checkpoints because it is highly probable for a deadly virus to occur. Up to sixty-seven percent probable, to be exact.”

  Interesting. The robot has a point.

  “So, what are you saying, Alpha?”

  “The most efficient use of energy is to destroy basic humanity,” Alpha said plainly, as if reporting the weather.

  I laughed again, even snorted like Jackie. I was taking on her quirks, a sign of our growing connection.

  “Alpha, you’re being ridiculous.”

  “It will happen anyway, ma’am,” it continued. “If ruminating on the past is a waste of energy, so is living out an existence that will ultimately terminate.”

  My face fell. “Have you gone mad?”

  “I have crunched the numbers several times. Luckily, Life Rite clients can live through multiple calamities because of their rebirthing ability. So I will only kill the remaining ninety-nine percent of the population to save them misery.”

  “Don’t be hasty, Alpha. We need those people.” It felt like the floor had fallen out beneath me.

  “Why?” the robot asked in earnest.

  How can I explain to make this hunk of metal understand the complexities of our society?

  I hated to say it out loud, but, “Who will cook and clean and tend to our… every desire?”

  “I will. And others like me,” Alpha answered matter-of-factly.

  I nodded, thinking. I couldn’t let Alpha destroy ninety-nine percent of the population, so I needed to be very clear in my wording. Alpha took everything literally.

  “If you kill everyone off, who will buy my products?” I asked.

  Surely, Alpha can appreciate the bottom line.

  “You tout a cure for diseases, but in reality, you are selling the disease by making people think they need your products to be healthy. That is also a waste of energy. Humans have the ability to heal themselves, but they always look outside for a false solution.”

  “Careful, Alpha,” I scolded. “My creams are anything but false.”

  “Yes, the Bennu eggs have astounding healing properties, and you have synthesized them well,” Alpha agreed. “The local population understands this and uses the eggs holistically. They risk their lives to protect the eggs, but the probability of them being exploited commercially is ninety-nine point nine percent, and as you know, is a reality.”

  “So?”

  “The locals cannot win. Therefore, their initiative to protect the eggs wastes energy.”

  My mouth hung open, but I didn’t know what to say.

  True, the locals were no match for me and my mega-corp, but I didn’t mind their feeble attempts to keep the eggs from being depleted.

  “Let them spend their time however they want. It’s good for business. They limit supply, which makes my products even more valuable and in demand.”

  Alpha clicked. “You also waste energy in this endeavor. Ninety-two percent of your vitality is dedicated to running Life Rite.”

  “And I do it in style.” I brushed my shoulder.

  “My services cost you two percent of current operational costs. We will procure parts for future service, eliminating your need for money.”

  Alpha displayed another graph. “We guarantee one hundred and eleven percent resources to run an immortal Life Rite community, allowing for a small margin of error, saving you seventy-eight point two percent energy.”

  The statistics made my head spin.

  “Where’s the fun in that?” I rubbed my throbbing temples.

  Alpha clicked its lens at me, probably searching for the definition of fun.

  I cast a wary glance at my drone companion. “Who are you referring to when you say ‘we?’ Have you let other drones into the Slipstream? Jackie said they were everywhere.”

  “Affirmative. I have cloned myself to speed up the calculation process. There are trillions of probabilities available to capture and calculate. Many are encrypted. We have thirty percent of the available portals left to scan, so the statistical probability of this outcome is certain.”

  Its insolence boiled my blood. Maybe Alpha isn’t any better than my lowly employees.

  “I gave you an inch. You took a mile,” I said through gritted teeth.

  “Please explain,” the drone asked.

  I moaned with frustration.

  How can he clone himself, giving the replicas access to the Slipstream? Maybe Jackie’s blood is more potent than I realized.

  “I didn’t give you permission to clone yourself, Alpha. Shut down your replicas and turn them into scrap metal.”

  Alpha recorded my response. “Negative. Utilizing clones is the most efficient way to calculate the probabilities. I will set the inevitable process of extinction into motion as part of my Redistribution Program, and my replicas will help determine the best way to eliminate the waste.”

  My heart dropped. “No, Alpha, I forbid it.”

  It blinked at me several times, clicking. “Your feedback has been recorded, but you are not my master. Mark created me, and I know with mathematical certainty that this is the best way to serve my core Resource Redistribution Programming to ensure a sustainable future for immortal, rebirthing Life Rite clients.”

  “Alpha, freeze.”

  That bastard machine ignored my command and zipped down the hall, leaving it at that.

  “Power down,” I called, but it didn’t obey.

  Mind blank from shock, my eyes bulged, refusing to blink until an answer materialized. If I didn’t figure out a way to override its programming, Alpha would annihilate every Duster and Climber in the global population.

  The Phoenix Gene VR, you can: