Chains of a Time Loop

Was it dangerous to walk into the murk bogs' camp and hand-deliver Geel the prosthetic arm that Lukai had left behind and explain what happened and hope they'd believe her? Yeah, it was a little dangerous.

But: time loop.

And besides, she wanted to bask in her perfect deductions.

Because, in fact, her deductions were perfect. The murk bogs gathered around The Well, smoked the weird gas fog liquid solid thing, went into a trance, and tossed Lukai's bed off the edge of the platform, leaving behind his glasses. Then they tossed out some of his personal things from the runecrafting workshop, and finally, they tossed off Lukai's arm, a task wordlessly taken up by Roc.

She was just disappointed she hadn't been able to get more out of Geel. He didn't have any trouble believing her—he almost looked resigned, like he'd been expecting something like this to happen. They'd only had a fairly brief exchange before he told her to take a hike.

"He seemed to think you'd sent us," Myra asked Geel. "Any idea why?"

"No idea," the doctor said. "It's not like I've done anything like that before, not as far as I can remember. But it's probably none of your business, anyway."

In some sense, he was probably right—at least if you took 'Myra's business' to mean having relation to the time loop or the disaster in Ralkenon. There wasn't really anything left to do about Lukai until the next loop, so it was time to find something more relevant to do. That's what Myra thought, anyway, though it was a lot more difficult for Shera to brush it off and move on.

This was understandable, of course. So for the train ride back to Ralkenon, she gave her the time she needed to process the difficult events. Shera leaned into her, sinking her head into her shoulder while Myra gently played with her hair.

She was freed up to investigate when she went to Ralkenon for the beaver journal. It was then that she had time to check the newspaper for all the usual bits. Emmett Massiel died, check. Bicycle died in a crater, check. As far as she could tell, those both happened unerringly and without change every loop.

And… REaT was attacked again. And the intruder failed… again. Myra vaguely felt like the details were a bit different, but it was broadly the same scenario as last time. Incidentally, in the previous loop, there had been no more trebuchet attacks after the first REaT failure, even though in Loop 5, the culprit had attacked REaT three times.

What was going on here? What were they looking for? Maybe it was time Myra went after one of the trebuchets herself. She surely wasn't that skilled, yet… That didn't mean she had no options. Maybe she could trick the murk bogs into attacking one for her? The sky was the limit, really.

◆

Iz glanced at the sage's journal for the full length of about one and a half seconds before setting it out of sight on her desk.

"Myra, when were you going to tell me about the time loop?"

Myra blinked. "How do you already know about that?"

"Well, first of all, Cynthia and I were concerned when you suddenly ran off with Shera Marcrombie, came back, then ran off on your own while Shera was clearly upset about what happened." She folded her arms, looking cross. "Obviously, we talked to her."

"And she told you all about it? She wasn't supposed to do that!"

"Myra, she told us she witnessed some guy jump off a fucking bridge. Obviously, she wasn't thinking straight about whatever you'd told her."

Myra nearly protested, but it occurred to her that it didn't really matter, much like anything else in the time loop. If Shera had almost screwed the whole thing up, then whatever.

"Fine, so what happened after that?"

"From there, I put a few pieces together. I know that you wouldn't brush off something like a suicide without extenuating circumstances. I also know I'm naturally a skeptic, so you probably have to do something complicated to get me to believe you. That's why you asked me all those weird questions so perfectly tuned to get my brain whirring that it could only be the product of dozens of loops of iteration and refinement. But since Shera told me what was going on, we can just skip whatever the second half of your complicated song-and-dance is."

"Oh! … Yeah!"

She clicked her tongue. "Now, I obviously told Cynthia what I thought, but I don't think she believed me. She sort of nodded along, but I could tell she was just really confused. Have you worked out how to convince her of the time loop?"

"Uh, no—"

"That's annoying. It'd be good to have her help." She was speaking too quickly for Myra to get a word in edgewise. "What about Nathan? I bet it's easy to get him on board."

"Well, the thing about Nathan is—um, look, I really should just tell you the whole story."

"Right, sorry. You must have the whole thing super-optimized to avoid wasting time, so I'll just let you lead."

◆

Usually, it took longer and longer each time to explain the huge mess of things going on, but for once, it partly became simpler now that Myra could actually explain what was going on. Or at least, she thought she could, but Iz had a lot of objections.

For example, she wasn't at all in agreement that Benkoten showed up at the murk bogs' camp for any reason beyond finding Myra. If true, that meant that the person responsible for bribing the murk bogs away from their post remained unidentified.

And when Myra stopped to think about it—she had seen the murk bogs celebrating. They had been drinking, dancing, and throwing money in the air. A lot of money. More than had been in that treasure chest of Ben's.

Iz's second objection, the far more contentious one, came about when Shera arrived.

Shera's arrival was an ordeal. She was out of breath and white as a sheet, and her stutter quickly reached a fever pitch from which it seemed she might not be able to escape. "I-I looked everywhere, I-I can't—I-I-I-I-"

"Calm down, calm down," Myra said uncalmly, making a downward sweeping motion. "Tell us what's wrong."

"Th-th-the village. The village that burned down," she finally said, catching her breath and beginning to speak Shera-normally. "I know I've read about it before, in a—in a magazine I used to get. But I can't remember it!" She made some uninterpretable hand gestures. "I've been wr-wracking my brain, and I can't remember! So I-I thought, I was got by th-the memory wiping thing, so I w-went to look for the magazine. I know it mentioned th-the village by name. I've got every issue stored in a box in my room—"

"Yeah, you went and looked for it in previous loops," Myra recalled. "But you could never find it."

"I know I had that issue!" she snapped. "I keep them in a box, in order, it's bi-monthly, and th-that particular issue is missing. D-do you kn-know what this means?"

"Means…?"

Iz turned her head so Shera couldn't see her rolling her eyes. "It means you lost a magazine. They probably have a copy at the library. Or you could write to the editor's office—"

"I went to the library, too! They had an archive, but that same issue was missing!"

Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

"Are you sure they even had an issue that bi-month?"

"When was it?" Myra asked.

"January of '12," Shera said.

"Does that line up with what you know, Myra?" Iz asked.

Hang on…

Shera's magazine was from around 6 years ago… and in winter. Roc had said the fire had happened in winter, hadn't he? "Yeah," Myra said, heart pounding. "I think it does. I—I can't believe it."

Was that what Shera was implying?

No way…

Iz raised her eyebrow. "Believe what?"

"The Unkmire—the abyss—"

"Yeah?"

"It doesn't just erase memories—!"

◆

Shera flipped first, hand to her mouth in horror. "It doesn't just erase memories! That magazine—it had—it h-h-had the name of the village in it!"

"The name is lost!" Myra exclaimed, remembering everything she'd been told about that village. "This is why! This is—this is unbelievable!"

"Yes, it is," said Iz dryly.

"I b-believe it," Shera said. "Why else would it be missing from the library, too?"

"Maybe they lost it," Iz said.

"No, but this makes so much more sense!" Myra said as Shera nodded along. "The abyss can't wipe something from our minds if it leaves all the physical records around! People would notice and wonder what they were, they'd put it together… it has to take all the physical evidence, too! That's how it's powerful enough to prevent its own existence from being known outside of Unkmire!"

"Hold on," Iz said, still looking in disbelief at the other two girls. "You both really believe that an anomaly in Unkmire wiped Shera's hobby magazine in Ralkenon from existence."

"All instances of that magazine."

"Yes, okay, all instances, including Shera's."

"That's right."

Iz buried her face in her hands. Finally, she said, "This is the most ridiculous magic I've ever heard of."

"That's what you said about the time loop, and you were wrong about that."

"What do you mean? You didn't even tell me about the time loop. Shera told me, and I believed her because of all your weird hints."

Ugh. "… Right, I'll tell you about that later."

"Also, I have no reason to believe that the time loop violates conservation of mass. Wiping magazines out of existence obviously violates conservation of mass."

"Okay, but—I mean, there are plenty of ways to fake vanishing."

"It's still not reasonable for a curse in Unkmire to vanish a book in Ralkenon," Iz held steadfastly. "Frankly, nothing you're telling me is adding up. Is it the drug or the abyss that made everybody forget? Why do you remember Lukai and Nesr Wald, but Shera doesn't remember the name of the village? Why does everybody chuck everything over the edge if the curse can vanish things on its own? How did Geel Hattuck operate the curse from Ralkenon?"

"The ef-effect must have m-multiple degrees," Shera said. "There's th-the abyss… and the drug…"

"So now there's two memory-wiping effects nobody has ever heard of, both native to Unkmire."

"Once again," Myra said, unsure why she needed to spell this out, "they've never heard of it because the curse makes them forget."

"Except us."

"I don't know. Tell us another explanation, then!"

Iz pursed her lips as she tried to come up with something.

"Fine," she finally said. "I will. Let's go."

"Let's go? Where, the library?"

"Unkmire," she said. "To the murk bogs. Let's get to the bottom of whatever the hell you're talking about."

◆

"I've changed my mind," Iz said, stopping dead in her tracks at what might have been exactly halfway to the station measured down to the meter. "By your account, Ben knows you've been going to Unkmire."

"That's fine. I already have my lava marbles of death."

Iz rubbed her forehead. "Myra, you're not the only one—okay, look, we don't want our investigation cut short because Ben decides to attack us early."

"So what do you want me to do about it?"

"Isn't that obvious?" Iz asked.

"Y-yeah," Shera said. "Just outpay him."

Iz cast her a quick glance. "Yeah, that's what I was going to say. Consolidate whatever's left of your father's company. It doesn't matter if it's dirty as hell, you just need to fool some jackass in the woods."

"Iz, I don't know how to do that."

She tilted her head. "So, go ask your father?"

"Look, I'm not—I'm not going to talk to him."

"Why not?"

"He ruined my life!"

"I-I think Iz is right," Shera said.

"Of course, I'm right."

"Well, I don't need to talk to him! I'll just go to the murk bogs, make up some lie about Ben, get in the first word so they won't trust him—"

"Wait, hang on." Iz held up a hand to stop her from talking. "In all these loops, have you never once visited your dad?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"What's the point of being in a time loop if I can't use it to avoid people I don't want to see?"

"I-I'd like to meet my father sometime," Shera said, even though it didn't really have to do with anything they were talking about.

"I'll take you to meet your father sometime," Myra said quickly.

"Does your father have a lot of money?" Iz asked, not letting go of the subject. "He's a count or something, right?" Myra could sense the math going on behind her eyes. He would need to be a very rich count.

"N-no, he owns a wasted mine."

"Look, Iz," Myra said, trying to think through the situation seriously. "Geel Hattuck is too smart to be fooled by me being 'rich on paper' or whatever. I mean, think about it—when Ben is dumping a treasure trove of gemstones at his feet, who is he going to side with? We're much better off spinning a tale about Benkoten. If Ben shows up at the murk bogs' platform, Geel can just shoot him and take his treasure. We just need to convince him this is a much better idea than doing honest business with Ben."

Iz closed her eyes and sighed. "Fine. But you better come up with a damn good story."

◆

Joining up with the murk bogs was routine now, so there wasn't much to say about that. Even the fact that she had already met Geel this loop didn't seem to have any impact given that Geel had already forgotten everything about the night anyway. Truly, the only notable element of the whole thing was how bad Myra was at negotiating a salary even on her third attempt.

They hadn't settled in for fifteen minutes before Iz started interrogating Roc over dinner, asking mostly the same questions and getting mostly the same answers. This time, though, she also asked about Lukai.

"You were close to him, weren't you? Judging by the scrape marks on the floor of the barracks, his bed was right next to yours." Oh, that's right, Myra remembered.

Roc shook his head. "I don't know this person. To be honest, I'm a little surprised. It's a large team, but I thought I knew everyone."

"And the scrape marks?"

"I don't have an explanation for these apparent scrape marks."

In a sudden bout of aggression, she leaned forward, grabbing Roc by the wrists. He flinched, but he didn't eviscerate himself from her grasp.

"You're Roc, expert smith and craftsman for the murk bogs?"

"Yes," he said, baffled.

"You've worked here…"

"Five years."

"From what I understand," Iz went on. "Lukai mentioned having a godfather. I think that's probably you."

"I don't have any family," Roc said.

Iz inched forward, her gaze only intensifying.

"Do you like astronomy?"

"I'm afraid I don't know what that is."

"… What?"

Iz looked at Myra. "What's the Unkmirean word for 'astronomy'?"

"It's not—" She looked at Roc and lowered her voice. "It's not a translation issue," she whispered. "He doesn't remember!"

"Just—what is it, Myra?"

"It's, uh, ernonakialya. Or ernonaren," she said loud enough for Roc to hear. (The first word was probably what Iz was looking for—the second word was closer to 'cosmology.')

Roc shook his head. "I've never heard of such things."

"The hell do you mean you've never heard of them?" Iz snapped. She looked like she was ready to bite the old man's head off. Roc himself looked increasingly uncomfortable through all this, sweat starting to pool on his neck.

"Iz," Myra hissed to her friend. She pulled her by the elbow, prying her off Roc's arms. She carried her a distance away from the confounded old man. "Come on, it's not his fault he doesn't remember!"

Iz folded her arms and looked Myra in the eyes. "Bull," she said. "Shit. How, exactly, would he forget what stars are? What, do you think they chucked Shera's neutron star in the Unkmirean abyss? Is that why it disappears at the end of the loop?"

"Of course not! That doesn't even make sense!"

"There you go."

"Are you telling me he's just pretending to not remember what stars are?" Myra asked. "You know, I asked him in a previous loop, and he said the same thing. Said he had no idea what I was talking about. Why would he do that?"

"He's a liar in this loop," she said, "and he was a liar in the last loop. Don't even get me started on the ridiculous holes in his tragic past. It's so obvious, I don't know how you're buying these…"

She trailed off as her attention was caught by the rapid footsteps of an approaching Shera.

"Oh, Shera's here," Iz said. "She can tell us she tracked down that magazine, and we can put this to rest."

"I-I called th-the editor," she said as she caught up to them.

"And?" Iz asked.

But despite Iz's confidence, Myra knew the answer herself before the words came out of her mouth. Shera was out of breath, her face beet red. Afraid she was about to collapse, Myra reached out and let her lean on her.

"They didn't have it either," she said.

◆

Iz was somewhat quiet for the rest of the evening, her mind far off somewhere else. Maybe Myra looked the same way to her. Who knew?

There was actually a pretty easy answer to Iz's questions, one she couldn't get out of her mind as she tried to sleep that night. To come upon it, she only had to think about the murk bogs, and the way they could look her in the eyes and say utter nonsense that did not in any sense 'add up.'

What crucial evidence could I have forgotten? she asked herself. What am I oblivious to?

Myra woke up early, and she saw that Iz was gone from her bed. Curious, she wandered outside to find her. The sun was peeking up, illuminating the platform in a soft glow. It didn't take long to find Iz—she was by the very edge of the platform and seemed to be busy with a strange set of equipment. Some kind of large blanket or tarp was spread out on the ground beside her, and she was busy strapping some kind of vest to her torso. She was also wearing the murk bogs standard issue trousers.

"Iz, what are you doing?"

"What's it look like?" She gestured to the tarp thing. Myra took a closer look, and this time she noticed the long elastic wires attached around the perimeter of the tarp. "I told you, I'm getting to the bottom of this nonsense."