The Bondgroup

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Status: In Progress  |  Genre: Science Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic

Chapter 2 (v.1) - Just the Beginning

Submitted: June 25, 2019

Reads: 21

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Submitted: June 25, 2019



The tea Miara brought out was an usual combination, but perhaps called for. There was a smooth back element none of them recognized.

“Something from xcheamo.”

Along with focus from the green and calm from the lavender, it was all quite effective, they found.

“What are we going to do?” Eiry asked.

“First thing, no big dumps just yet,” Miara said. “We should see what may be in there before anything else changes.”

“Like…what does it mean if there is and I don’t remember?”

“I don’t know,” she said. “Me, I’m one thing. The chances of me falling through time is understandable, but you? Someone went to great lengths to get you here and preserve Eiry’s timeline.”

“…” came from most of them.

“What’s that mean?” Alta asked.

“I’m not sure speculation is wise at this point,” Miara said. “But if the timeline needs to be preserved, it may involve you, as well.”


“It’s possible. But certainly Guyver and Tally.”

“But what for?” Guyver asked. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m glad you’re both here, but why?”

“Well, I mean to find out,” Miara said. “I need to talk with Uffago. No more infodumps.”

Uffago’s room was a technical masterpiece of building and Time Lord mechanics. An open hut-like structure went out onto open land and then an African plane with holo-wall seamlessness. It was the only room she’d seen here like that and it suited him rather well.

It may be late, but this was important, and she knocked, mug in hand. Uffago kept odd and random hours, like she did. Unlike xcheamo dorms, here there were both Terran doors and hangings. His door was shut, and by feel he was drowsy if not asleep, but she knocked firmly anyway. Giving him time once he was alert, she leaned against the wall a few minutes until he opened the door.

“Sorry, it’s important,” she told him.

“What is it?”

“You know Eiry’s friend Tally?”


“He’s downstairs.”

He looked at her a moment before reading her, and then the people below. “The soulmate. The dead one.”


“But that’s—”

“Impossible. He doesn’t consciously know anything, but we need to see and make sure before they dump anything.”

“Yes, certainly. Is that?” he said of her half-full mug, and she gave it to him. “I need to prepare. Can you wake Nima?”

“Sure. I made a big pot, there should be plenty still.”

“Thanks. We’re all going to need it.”

© Copyright 2019 zairafirefly. All rights reserved.


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