Stella took a deep breath as she took her seat at the conference table.  As if the 7:00 AM start time wasn’t enough, she was already exhausted from all of the well-wishes from the rest of the team when she had come in the door.

    “We were so worried,” Alice said as she sat down.  “Adam’s going to be okay, right?  How is he?”

    “He’s resting,” Stella said.  “He spends most of his time sleeping right now.  I’ll be heading back after this meeting.”

    Atria sat down beside her, giving her shoulder a quick squeeze before settling in.  Cap sat on Atria’s other side.

    “Right, everybody’s here,” Atria said in Japanese.  “Same as last time, the language will be Japanese, Cap will translate into English and back as needed.  I’m sorry about the early start, but – and I can’t believe I’m saying this – we need to wrap this up in time to get to the golf course.”

    On the other side of the table, Colonel Sato blinked.  “What, really?”

    Atria nodded.  “Blame Captain Infinite for this one.  He insists that we get out there for some rest and relaxation, and he’s right.  We need the break.  So, we’re going to get this meeting done quickly, and then everybody who can be spared has the day off.”

    “So, what happened, besides Adam waking up?” Alice asked.

    “We’ve identified the man with the horns,” Atria said, motioning to the lieutenant.  He began passing out a handout.  “Everybody, meet The Destroyer, from an anime called Reincarnated as the Most Powerful Hero in the World, produced by Samurai Filmworks.  His creator is Habiki Matoyami, who we are now attempting to contact.”

    Alice frowned.  “My handout is in Japanese,” she said.  “I can’t read this.”

    “Here, take mine,” Cap said, trading.

    “I watched the first episode of that,” Kaguyama said.  “It wasn’t so much bad as mediocre.  It was just a basic power fantasy with an audience-insert character.”

    “Based on the material from the show, The Destroyer is a devil king trying to conquer the world for reasons unknown,” Atria said.  “He doesn’t seem to do much more than show up in post-credit sequences and shout at underlings.  We do know that he supposedly has the powers of a god, and he built this tower using his magic at some point in his back story.  Otherwise–”

    “That shithanger!” Akari Soto exclaimed, slamming her hand on the table.  “I’m going to kill him when I get my hands on him!”

    Stella blinked.  Looking around the table, she could see she wasn’t the only one surprised.  Those who were Japanese looked aghast at the outburst.

    “Sorry?” Atria said.

    “That asshole jerk Matoyami stole my devil king!” Akari declared.  “He looks different, but this is my devil king on this page.  The back story is all stuff from my light novels!  Every single thing I revealed about my devil king is here!”

    Stella saw Alice lean in to Cap and whisper, “What she said is a lot less polite than how you translated it, isn’t it?”

    Cap looked at Alice nodded.

    Atria leaned back.  “So you know everything The Destroyer can do?”

    “Oh yes,” Akari said.  “There’s so much more to him than what’s on this page.  He’s a fully fleshed-out character, with a proper motivation for invading the world.  And he doesn’t have some stupid title like ‘The Destroyer’.”

    “Can you provide us with a full description of his capabilities?” Atria asked.

    “I’ll go back to my house this morning and get you all of my notes,” Akari said.

    Atria grinned.  “Wonderful.  If nobody has anything else, we can adjourn, then.”

    The table was silent.

    “Okay then, this meeting is closed,” Atria said.  “If you’ll excuse me, I have to go change into civvies.  The last thing I need is people thinking I’m a cosplayer and taking pictures of me on my day off.”

    Stella took a deep breath as the group began to break up.  “Cap,” she said.  “There’s something you need to know.”

    “Oh?” Cap said.  “What is it?”

    “I figured out a bit more about how the information stream works, and you might not be able to go home.”

    Cap sat back down.  “Tell me more.”

    Stella explained.

    Cap sat still for a moment.  “So let me get this straight – as soon as a new edition of my comic book comes out and enough people read it, the information stream will update, and a replacement me will just pop into existence.  Or, more accurately, will have always been there.”

    Stella nodded.  “Probably.  It’s hard to say.  It could also create an entirely new world in which you never left.  But, wherever possible, when it comes to understanding quantum physics my thesis supervisor tells me to apply Occam’s Razor – the simplest explanation is usually the correct one.  And, in this case, the simplest one is that the information stream creates a new you to bring your world back into compliance with the story.”

    “And if I go back, and there are two of me, then the next information stream update with erase one of us...one of me.”

    Stella nodded.  “Or perhaps you’d merge together with memories of both – I just don’t know.  But, going back after the release of the next issue of your comic would be extremely risky.  I thought you should know.”

    “Well, thank you for telling me,” Cap said.  “I appreciate it, and it is a lot to think about.  But, I think I’d be okay with staying here and just being replaced in my story.  I’ve got friends here – friends like you, and Alice, and Atria – in a way that I haven’t had for decades back in my own world.  If I can stay here and my world will be protected anyway, I think I’d rather stay.”

    Stella smiled.  “I know that feeling.”

    “Anyway, you go and take care of Adam,” Cap said, rising and giving her a soft pat on the shoulder.  “And as soon as he’s recovered enough to start getting out, you’re both joining me on the golf course.  I’m not taking ‘no’ for an answer.”

    Stella grinned.  “We’ll look forward to it.”

As Alice sat beside Cap, waiting for her turn at the tee of the 8th hole of the Shin Tokyo Tomin Golf Ground, she mused about just how much the game of golf revealed about those who played it.  In the case of Atria Silversword, it revealed the fact that she could swear and curse with great fluency in at least four different languages.

    “What did she just say?” she asked Cap.

    “Well, most of it was Japanese,” he said.  “She wanted to know how it was this difficult to hit a ball with a club and make it go in a straight line.  The words before ‘ball’ and ‘club’ were not in a language I recognize.”

    “And what did Mitsubi just say?”

    “She just said, ‘If you’re going to throw the club again, pose for a moment so I can draw it.’”

    Alice chuckled.  Atria did not throw the club.  Mitsubi took her turn at the tee.  Atria sat down beside them.

    “Relaxing, my ass,” she said in English.

    Cap shrugged.  “You’re not worrying about work.”

    “This is a ‘par 5’, right?”

    Alice and Cap looked at the scorecard, where the hole was listed as a par 3.  “It’s a casual game for relaxing,” Cap replied, “so sure, if you want it to be.”

    “Got a question for you, Alice,” Atria said as Mitsubi teed up her ball.  “What was that ‘diversity hire’ thing about a couple of meetings go?”

    “Ah,” Alice said.  “In my industry – television production – the people in charge care a lot about filling out checklists, particularly when it comes to diversity.  I was fresh out of film school when I sold Jenny Calhoun to the network, and when they announced it, they made a big deal out of the fact that I was a black woman.  So, I’ve never really known if I was hired because they liked the story I wanted to tell, or if they needed a black woman for one of their checklists.”

    “Does that bother you?” Cap asked.

    Alice nodded.  “Knowing that you’re good enough to make the cut matters.  All they wanted to talk about to the public was what I looked like.”

    “Is your story good?” Atria said.

    “The viewers seem to like it.  We get lots of fan mail and viewer engagement.”

    Atria shrugged.  “There you go, then.”

    Alice shook her head.  “I’m not sure that helps.”

    “Well, try this,” Cap said.  “If your story is loved, then by definition you’re good enough.  And if that’s the case, so long as your story got told, does it really matter why you got to tell it?”

    Alice smiled.  “I guess it doesn’t.”

    Mitsubi sliced her ball.

    “So how many groups played through us last hole?” Atria asked.

    “Six,” replied Cap.

    “I’m feeling competitive,” Atria said.  “Let’s drop that down to three.”

    By the time they got to the end of the hole they were close – only four groups had played through.

    At the ninth hole, Alice and Cap sat down again on a bench, the clubs Cap was carrying for them all resting beside him.

    “What’s Atria saying now?”

    “She’s offering to pose throwing a club for Mitsubi.”

    Mitsubi pulled out her sketchbook.

    “This could take a moment,” Alice said.

    Cap smiled.  “It could.  Alice, have you heard of Early-Onset Alzheimer’s?”

    Alice nodded.  “Why do you ask?”

    Cap told her.

    “Ah,” Alice said.  “That explains a lot.”

    “I’m telling you this in confidence,” Cap said.

    “I understand.”

    “Watching Atria and Kaguyama, I’ve never felt so helpless to save somebody,” Cap said.  “In my world, outside of old age, there’s always something I can do.  But with this thing, every single powers I have is useless.”

    “That’s just part of being human,” Alice said.  “Eventually, everybody faces something that they can’t make better.  You wanted to be more like the rest of us – welcome to humanity.”

    “I don’t think I like this part of being human.”

    “Nobody does,” Alice stated.  “Not liking it is part of being human too.”

    Alice glanced at the tee.  Mitsubi was still sketching, occasionally making a fine adjustment to Atria’s pose.  As she sketched, they moved out of the way so that a foursome could play through.

    Time to change the subject.

    “You’re really enjoying this, aren’t you?” Alice asked.  “The golfing, I mean.”

    Cap nodded.  “I love this game.  It’s quiet, peaceful, just the player, the ball, and the course.  And lots of time to talk and relax.”

    “So you did this a lot back in your world?”

    Cap shook his head.  “I haven’t done this for decades.  I think the last time was back in 1977.  That was the last time Janey played.”

    “You two must have been close.”

    Cap nodded.  “Oh yes.  She always used to tease me about never being able to play, and always having to caddy, right up to that final game.”

    “So she knew you were Captain Infinite.”

    Cap grinned.  “I worked in the investigative reporting department of the best newspaper in the country.  She and Pete, our editor, figured out I was Captain Infinite within a week.  Didn’t bother them, though.  I think Pete liked having a reporter who was bulletproof.  And Janey just liked me for who I was.  Together with Pete and Billy – the photographer who worked with us – Janey and I hit the course every Saturday morning for years.

    “Pete was interesting.  He was a drill sergeant for the American Expeditionary Force in the Great War, and he never quite stopped being one.  So, he’d bark these orders to the reporting staff from his office as though we were all doughboys.  The only time he really relaxed in front of us was on the course.  And he was really good – he could have made a living as a pro golfer if he had wanted to.  He was also the first to go.  I think he passed in ‘65.”

    Alice frowned as she watched a shadow pass over Cap’s face.  “Billy was next.  He ran into trouble in Cambodia back in ‘68.  He got everybody who was with him out of there, but he never really recovered from his wounds.  I think he passed in ‘79, but he had to stop playing long before then.  For those last few years, it was just Janey and I on the course.”

    Cap wiped away a tear.  “That last time in ‘77, she told me that I’d have to start another foursome.  It was a couple of years after she’d retired and I’d left the newspaper.  She was just getting too old and tired to keep going.  She made me promise that I’d get another group started.  A couple of years later she was gone.  It was the only promise I never kept to her.”  He smiled sadly.  “Until today, anyway.  I’m sorry – the memories are good, but they’re also a bit sad.  It’s always sad when you’re the last one left.”

    Alice took Cap’s hand and gave it a squeeze.  Back on the course, Atria finished posing and teed up her ball.

    “This is a par six, right?” she called out in English.

    “Sure!” Cap called back.  “Whatever you want!”

    Alice looked at the scorecard.  It was a par 4 hole.  As Mitsubi knocked the last ball into the hole with her putter twenty minutes later, all of them were at least three over par on the ‘par 6’ hole.

    It was then that Atria’s phone rang.  Alice and Cap sat on the bench at the start of the hole, enjoying the afternoon sun.  Alice glanced back at the course.  Atria’s face had become grim, and Mitsubi was frantically packing up her bag.

    “We have to get back to the base and get everybody under guard,” Atria said in English, striding towards them.  “We’re leaving right now.”

    “What happened?” Cap asked.

    “The Destroyer and his group attacked Samurai Filmworks this morning,” Atria replied.  “They slaughtered everybody there.”

    Alice gasped.

    “It’s now a war,” Atria stated.  “And he’s targeting creators.”

NEXT: “Condition”