The Advancement of Mateo Matic: August 26, 2398

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Ever since the incident that sent Leona Delaney, Leona Reaver, Andile Mhlangu, Alt!Mateo Matic, and presumably Trina McIver to the main sequence, Leona Reaver’s body has been kept alive in the SD6 black site. The team asked the agency to  hook her up to life support, because they don’t know for sure what happens to a body whose consciousness has vacated it. Back in the main sequence, it’s legal to transfer a consciousness to another substrate, and then just leave the old body lying there. Bills were passed before it was possible, dictating the responsibility of whatever licensed individual or organization conducted the transfer. The old body must either be destroyed, or kept alive artificially. No legal experiments have been done to observe the consequences of leaving such an empty body as is. The assumption is that it would just die, even though certain involuntary bodily processes, including breathing and pumping blood can continue without true consciousness. To let that body die on its own is considered just as unethical as letting a real person die.

Alyssa insisted that Erlendr not be placed in chains. She doesn’t want to see her sister like that. She doesn’t want the memory of that to sit in her brain forever. It should be okay, Erlendr wants to make this transfer. He doesn’t want to look like a little girl any longer than he has to. Still, two guards walk at his flank while Alyssa holds him by the hand. It’s weird and uncomfortable, but necessary. They lead him into the room where Ramses is waiting next to Reaver’s bed. He has wrapped the Livewire around the Insulator of life. One end is attached to a helmet of his own invention, which he has placed around Reaver’s head. The helmet on the other end is sitting on the nightstand. A regular wire, which will provide power, is leading to the wall, but it has not been plugged in yet. He could probably attach a switch to the apparatus for easier control, but it’s safer just to keep electricity out of the equation until the last possible second.

“Okay,” Ramses says. “Everything’s ready, so everyone needs to leave the room.”

“We can’t do that, sir,” one of the SD6 guards replies.

“These helmets have never been tested,” Ramses explains. “Energy is going to be passing through the Livewire, which is not insulated. I’m not sure that it can be, and still function properly. There’s a chance that energy gets loose, and I don’t want to be responsible for what happens to anyone nearby. It’s better if I only put myself at risk.”

The guards exchange a look, and then leave the room.

“Go on,” Ramses says to Alyssa.

“Promise me that this will work,” she demands.

“I can’t do that. This is new territory. I had never even heard of the Livewire until recently. I can tell you that your sister is safe. Nothing’s going to happen to her body. Honestly, Erlendr is at the most risk here.”

“Gee, thanks,” Erlendr says.

Ramses ignores him. “Go on. You can watch from the observation window.”

Alyssa leaves, and closes the door behind her.

Unlike the cells down below, the observation room isn’t directly connected, so Ramses waits a minute to make sure that she has time to get there. Meanwhile, he has Erlendr sit in the chair next to Reaver’s bed. He sets the helmet upon Trina’s head, and makes sure that it’s secure. He didn’t include a chinstrap, but as long as Erlendr doesn’t move during the process, it should be fine. “Are you ready?”

“Absolutely,” Erlendr answers. “Get me out of here.”

“Okay.” Ramses gets on his knees, and picks up the power cable. He reaches for the socket, and just as he gets to it, he feels something on his head. He doesn’t manage to stop himself in time before power begins to run through the wires, and once it does, he can’t move at all. In a flash, the world goes dark.

Ramses is lying on his back when he comes to. “What happened?”

“Erlendr corrupted the procedure,” Alyssa explains. “I’m sorry. He’s in your body now. You’re in Leona’s.”

Groggy, Ramses flutters his eyes open, and looks down at himself. He can see the hospital gown that she was wearing. He looks over to the floor, where his own body is slumped against the wall. One of the guards is placing him in handcuffs, and pulling him into a more comfortable position. “How long has it been?”

“Not even a minute,” Alyssa responds. “You woke up a lot faster than the others did before.”

“I figured it would happen like that.” Ramses clear’s Reaver’s throat. “There’s no temporal factor.” He looks back down at Erlendr once he comes to. “What did you think you were going to accomplish? Now that we know it works, we’ll just switch.”

Erlendr puffs Ramses’ chest out, testing the tautness of the cuffs. “If there’s one thing I know about you, Rambo, it’s that you always have an exit strategy.” He pulls the cuffs under himself, and around his feet. The guard is back on him quickly, but it doesn’t really matter, because he doesn’t understand what to expect. Erlendr reaches up to the emergency teleporter strapped to his chest, and disappears.

“Call the building!” Ramses shouts to Alyssa. “He’s in my lab!”

“They took our phones!” Alyssa shouts back. “I don’t know the number by heart!” she cries when the guard tries to hand her his.

“Give it to me,” Ramses orders. He takes the phone, and dials Angela, hoping that she can make it upstairs in time to stop Erlendr before he does something crazy. “Angie, this is Ramses, trapped in Reaver’s body. Erlendr is in mine, and he’s there.”

He can hear her breathing heavily as she skips steps up the stairs. She opens the door, and starts to rush around, looking in every corner, and under every desk. “He’s gone. If he was ever here, he’s gone now. He probably took the fire escape.”

“Is anything missing?” Ramses asks her.

“I don’t know. I’m not familiar enough with all the stuff you have up—wait.”

“Wait, what?” Ramses asks.

“What did you have in the gray case where we found the LIR Map?”

“The LIR Map,” Ramses answers. There was no reason to keep it anywhere but where it came from.

“Oh. Then he took the LIR Map.”

“Crap. Okay. I’ll get there when I can. Thanks.” Ramses hangs up, and starts to get out of bed. It’s a little difficult, learning how to maneuver this new body, so he’s going to take it slow. “Clean the sheets, replace the life support systems, and put Trina in them,” he orders one of the men. “No one else comes in without my say-so.”

“Yes, sir.”

He looks to the other. “And you, I need to find someone in the city.”

“This site is designed to contain suspects, persons of interest, and prisoners. Such tools cannot be here. I’ll initiate transport to the field office.”

The Advancement of Mateo Matic: August 25, 2398

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By the time Mateo, Winona, Tarboda, and the cartographer, Oreata Kask, arrived at Stonehenge, it was full of people. In the main sequence, there could be billions of tourists who never had the pleasure of visiting the place, but most people on the islands in what is apparently the Fourth Quadrant have seen it by now. It’s often used for music festivals, food festivals, and all kinds of other festivals. For Sunday and Monday, and into this morning, it was booked for an exhibition dance party. Most of the fun took place a ways away from the stones, but party-goers were close enough that Mateo didn’t want to try anything there. He doesn’t want witnesses. While they were waiting, they helped Oreata in her office, organizing maps, and performing simple clerical duties. It was weird, seeing the world as almost all water. They had dinner both nights with the first friendly stranger they met, but slept in Oreata’s guest room.

Now that it’s midafternoon, they’re walking back to the prehistoric monument that spans realities. On the way, Mateo starts to think about what that means. Maybe they’re truly the same stones, which exist in multiple realities at once. Then again, much of Kansas City is the same here for no logical reason. This was all probably done on purpose by choosing ones. They seem to be responsible for everything.

“What are you thinking about?” Winona asks him.

“It’s hard to articulate,” Mateo replies. “My mind is a jumble of thoughts. I try to come up with explanations for the world around me, basing my presumptions on my exposure to more intelligent people, such as my wife. I fail a lot at that, and it takes me longer than a normal person to purge my system of all the nonsense.”

“That is a shockingly thoughtful answer, coming from someone who obviously understands himself well.”

“It’s harder for smart people to admit their faults. I’m more used to them.”

The conversation ends once they realize that they’ve made it to the henge. No one else is in sight, so this is a good time for them to conduct their experiments, whatever those may be. They don’t have immortality water full of temporal energy—and wouldn’t be able to find any without the planet’s normal geographical boundaries for reference—so there is only so much they can do. They can try to walk through a portal, and see if something happens. If nothing does, then that’s probably the end of the story.

The closer they get to the stones, the more the other three fall behind. They listened to Mateo’s stories, and it has them worried. Time travel sounds quite dangerous, and a portal can just as easily trap you on one side as the other. Sure, it might work, but if they don’t like what’s over there, what if they can’t cross back? Mateo nods softheartedly. “I’ll go on my own, assuming there is anywhere to go at all.”

Winona composes herself. “I’ll go with you. My training didn’t prepare me for this specifically, but I know how to survive.”

“Someone should stay behind either way,” Tarboda suggests. “If you never come back, we’re the only two people here who know what happened.”

“Unless you can get through to Kansas City,” Mateo begins. “If we don’t come back, tell whoever needs to hear that I have an idea. The people in the bubble might not be able to see through the barrier, but sunlight gets through somehow, so blot it out. If you can, tell them that Mateo Matic sent you. They all know me there.” He turns to Oreata. “Pick a number between one and eleven.”

Oreata shrugs. “Eleven.”

In his head, Mateo decided that the lone archway on one side of the circle is number one, and the rest go clockwise. “Number eleven it is. Follow me, Winnie.” He approaches the opening, and begins to feel different. The air is a little warmer around it. The differences only feel stronger the more he steps over the threshold. This is definitely something. It may not be what they want, but these are not just stones on stones on stones. There’s more resistance as he continues. It’s not impossible to walk through. It’s not even like something is trying to stop him. It feels like a protective membrane that needs a little bit more effort to breach. Breach he does. The pillars on either side of him start to move farther from each other, and change shape. He steps all the way through, and in a blink, he’s somewhere else, standing under a beautifully designed wooden archway. He only has to look around a little to know that this is Japan, or at least somewhere in Asia. It’s probably Kure, like Tarboda explained.

Winona comes in right behind him. “Whoa, you weren’t kidding.”

No one noticed their arrival, but there are plenty of people bustling about. He reaches out towards a man who looks less in a hurry than most. “Excuse me. English? You speak English?”

The man shakes his head.

Kind of a dumb question, but, “Japan?” He indicates the world around them.

“Japan,” he echoes. “Hai.” He’s confused, but humoring him.

“Kure?”

“Kure.”

“Uhh...China?” he asks, as he’s scanning the environment with his hand over his eyes, like he’s searching for it. “China?”

“China?” The man shakes his head like he’s never heard of it. He probably hasn’t.

“Arigato,” Mateo butchers the only word he knows, thanks to a certain pop song.

They walk back through the Japanese archway, and return to Stonehenge. As much time has passed for Tarboda and Oreata as for them, so no apparent time travel has occurred. They take turns, and try to walk through the other portals. Confident now in the dependability of the process, Tarboda accompanies him to Panama and El-Sheikh Zayed, and Oreata goes with to Easter Island and Muskoka District. Tarboda and Winona try to cross over to Machu Picchu on their own, but nothing happens. Upon trying it himself, Mateo learns that he has to be there, presumably because he’s time traveled so much more than all of them combined. One of the archways is blocked by a wall of glass, and some of them don’t go anywhere, even for Mateo. This is great, but they don’t really need to get to the rest of the Fourth Quadrant. They need to get back to the Third Rail, or ideally, the main sequence. Four of the openings feel like they should work, but do not, plus the one that’s probably KC.

“This changes everything,” Oreata says, awe-inspired, and hopeful for the future. “Thank you so much for helping us make these connections.”

“It may be a start, but I’m afraid I can’t spend the rest of my life ferrying people back and forth. What we need is a permanent solution from someone smarter.”

That was a cue to the universe. A shimmering portal opens in the sky, over the grassy area on the other side of the trees, where they first woke up in this reality. A helicopter descends from it, and lands before them. The door opens, and Leona hops out to meet the other four halfway. “Guys...where are we?”

Microstory 1564: Plantworld

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Prompt

Everyone thought that robots or aliens would take over the world, but no one considered the possibility that sentient plants would grow out of control.

Botner

That’s what this bizarre creature from Tokyo seems to be: a strolling rose that puts us to shame with its round-about conversation, longevity, and willingness to prostrate itself before unsuspecting passersby. The rose, a forget-me-not, started out life as a normal plant in the garden of Urayasu City’s Chuo Ward. Initially, it was a member of the quiet ground cover family, but a sudden surge of excitement occurred among the neighborhood’s residents after a rose began growing up and out of its pot. According to the plant’s owner, the guy who brought home the forget-me-not in the first place, the plant’s red flowers, which were not there before, are supposed to signify good luck. At this point, the standard human reaction would be to marvel at the skill of the plant’s operator, who has apparently decided to use its many complicated arms and legs to celebrate Japan’s 125th year of reign in the world’s foremost soccer league. However, the rose is showing some unpredictable behaviors.

Conclusion

It’s not begging to drink human blood, or inject poison into victims. All its doing is multiplying, so rapidly that it can’t be stopped. Scientists tried to find a way to kill it, but before they made any progress, everything changed. The forget-me-not started to impact the plantlife around it, effectively transforming everything else into an invasive species. The spores get on clothes, and fur, and spread around. Not only do new plants grow from this, but also command nearby plants to do the same. In a matter of weeks, the entire island is covered in plants and flowers. They adapt to grow out of the cracks in buildings, and up through the floors. They thrive in the sun, in arid land, and even in saltwater. In months, all of Asia has been overcome, and the rest of the world will surely follow suit. People start to cut back on the brush as much as possible, to carve out some small area of livable land, but it doesn’t last long. It all grows back. People don’t die off as much as other apocalyptic scenarios would predict. There’s plenty of food to eat now, and it’s possible to just live in the wild, using natural shelters, like trees. So it’s only civilization that falls, while the population itself continues. It’s not as interesting anymore, as any plant or vine will destroy any attempt to establish lines of communication, and it’s also lonely, but we continue. We continue in our little isolated pockets like this, and if anyone came up with a solution to the problem, it wouldn’t be a simple thing to get that information to others. My family and I just decide that this is how life on this planet is, and there’s no way of going back to the way it was before. Then everything changes again. I leave camp for my daily walk alone, and come across a plant I see all over the place. But this one is different. It starts to speak to me. It asks me who I am, and what my intentions are. Soon, all the plants around me are speaking. I run back to camp, and tell my family, but they don’t know what I’m talking about. Only I can communicate with them, and now...it’s my duty to do so.

Microstory 878: Edison Phone

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Most people may not know this, but it’s not, on its own, illegal to fake your own death. Where people who try this go wrong is when they commit some crime that’s more of a side effect. If you really want to disappear from society, you’ll need to make a few arrangements, and even if you succeed in these, you still won’t be able to reinstate yourself with a new identity. Your only option would be to start living off the land. But it can’t be your land, because you have to pay property taxes on that, so someone would have to give you permission to live there, but if they do, they could be party to fraud as well, depending. Before you leave, you can’t have any outstanding warrants, or unpaid debts. You can’t skip out on filing your taxes, so you pretty much won’t be able to do anything from a financial standpoint between the first of the year, and whenever you file for the year before. Lastly, you can’t do this in order to collect a life insurance payout, not even for your loved ones. That’s where I come in. My company will only pay the survivors of a death if that death follows certain legally binding criteria; the primary requirement being that it actually happened. As an investigator, it’s my job to make sure these claims are legitimate ones. You would be surprised how many times I catch someone trying to commit fraud, if only in some minor way. A faked death is pretty rare, especially since, as I’ve mentioned, any number of other agencies and departments are going to be scrutinizing the same case. Otherwise perfectly normal, upstanding citizens can make one mistake when they’re desperate, and as much sympathy as I feel for them, I have to uphold the law.

My current case is an interesting one, because she seems to have followed every piece of advice I would give to someone committing pseudocide, which is the term we use in the industry. The only suspicious thing about it comes from the life insurance policy, which was only flagged because she named her sister beneficiary within too short of a period of time before her supposed death. She technically passed the waiting period that’s designed to prevent this sort of thing, but only by one day. We don’t disclose to our clients that we continue to monitor that for longer. I do my due diligence, and discover that a fairly remote friend of hers just subletted her apartment for a year-long stint in Japan. That would be a perfect place for the alleged fraudster to hide out, because I can find no record of the individual renting the unit out at the moment.  I knock on the door, and hear a voice telling me it’s okay to come in. Sitting at the kitchen table is the now confirmed fraudster, totally alive, and smiling at me, with a phone up to her ear. I try to introduce myself, but she knows exactly who I am. She recites my name, social security number, and a bunch of personal anecdotes, many of which she could not have possibly known. She hands me her phone, which I see now is attached to a machine in the corner that’s about the size of the refrigerator right next to it, which seems to be helping keep it cool. I place the phone to my ear, and listen as my great grandmother scolds me for bothering this poor girl. She demands I leave her to her business, and insists that she is doing good work; that she’s helping people like her find closure. I try to maintain the conversation, but Nanaboo doesn’t want to talk anymore. I hang up the phone, and stare into space for an indeterminate period of time. “That woman has been dead for over twenty years,” I say. “You built a machine that can talk to ghosts?” The young woman smiles wider and nods. “And you help people?” She nods once more, so I think this over for another moment. “Do you need an assistant?”

Microstory 875: Forensic Countermeasures

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The first thing I see when I get back home is yellow tape blocking my way in. I slip under it, and open my door, only to find a huge mess. At first I think someone broke into my house while I was gone, but I also see bloodstains on the floor, so it’s even worse than I thought. I was gone for a whole month, but I don’t have any pets or plants, so there was no need for anyone to be in here. I’ve been trying to sell the place, but I’m not using an agent, so I paused my listing while I was in Japan. Worried about disturbing a crime scene, I step right back out onto the porch, and call the police. After some waiting, they finally connect me with the detective assigned to a recent murder. She tells me to stay put, then drives up a half hour later to give me the details. No one was killed on the premises, it would seem, but the killer did dump the remains, and all the other evidence, inside my home for two separate murders. I have a hard time expressing my concern for the matter. I watch a lot of violence on TV, and while it’s not made me violent myself, it has desensitized me to death and destruction. I’m upset that this is going to make it harder to sell the place, but I don’t have the same look of horror on my face as I gather this detective is used to. Even without contacting me while I was on my trip, though, they ruled me put as a suspect, so she doesn’t push me too hard. She leaves, and I try to move on with my life. I hire cleaners, and put the house back up on the website.

Two weeks later, I’m still struggling with the sale, when it happens again. No bodies this time, but I wake up to find bloody rags, frightening sharp instruments that I can’t name, and jars of what I guess to be highly corrosive acid. I review the footage on my door cams, and see the perp. I actually know him, he lives two blocks over. But I also see myself, sleepwalking down the stairs. I pass right by the guy as he’s planting the evidence. He just stops and watches me, but gets back to work when he realizes I’m no threat to him. I can’t show this tape to the cops; they’ll never believe that I wasn’t awake. It’s something that happened to me more often when I was a child, but it hasn’t been a problem for a long time, and I can’t prove it. Like a fool, I just gather the evidence that night, and drive it back to his place, planting it in his kitchen, with plans to call in an anonymous tip from a payphone the next day. Out of caution, I sit guard on the stairs all night, in case he gets any bright ideas, I must have dozed off at some point, because I wake up to it all again, but this time he’s left the stuff next inside my backdoor. I try again that night, but he sneaks in yet again. That does it. I drive right over to the guy’s house, and bang on the door. After he answers, he looks around the neighborhood to make sure no one’s watching, then he ushers me inside. “Why do you keep doing that?” he asks me. “We agreed to keep all our stuff at your place since my old parole officer moved to town. You’ve already been cleared, dude...don’t ruin what we have. And why the hell are you trying to sell your house?”

Superpowers: Swarm (Part V)

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Not ten years prior to the beginning of Governor Stockton and Federama’s plans to disarm the entire world, Usonia began to interfere in the business of other nations. Even though they were against Federama’s tactics, they were also glad to no longer be the focus of international outcry. The nation that felt the most slighted by Usonia’s persistent military presence was Korea. The great irony during Federama’s grand mission was that the nation with the lowest number of nuclear arms simultaneously had the highest number of military personnel overall. The more nuclear weapons that Federama took from the world, the more powerful Korea became.

To make matters worse, China’s feelings regarding Federama’s mission had not wavered, and they were traditionally close allies with Korea. In fact, China was often noted by scholars as playing a pivotal role in the reunification of Korea into a nation run by a single government. This was a major blow to the original allies of South Korea; Usonia and the United Kingdom in particular. World War IV was on everyone’s minds. If Korea began an aggressive campaign against just about anyone, this war was inevitable, and Federama’s nuclear stockpile would not be enough to stop it. Assuming Stockton’s new peace allies somehow agreed to provide military aid to Usonia and the U.K., Korea’s and China’s forces still outnumbered them two to one.

“Did you not see this coming?” asked Yorick Elder, the prime minister of the United Kingdom. He had traveled to Federama to personally discuss the looming threat.

“You mean, did I predict that Korea would threaten the world with total annihilation? No. Not to this degree, I didn’t.”

“I still presume you have a plan.”

“Why?”

“Because you apparently have thus far.”

“This is different. We’re talking guerilla warfare. I know very little about that. I’ve spent my entire life researching nuclear weapons.”

“What did you think was going to happen?” Elder asked. “You would destroy all nuclear weapons and we would all throw up our hands and agree that peace was the only option? Did you think war was no longer a concept we were capable of fathoming.”

“Well, n...no—” Stockton stammered.

“Because people were doing a fine job killing each other before the Amadesins sent that bomb that killed your family.”

“Now, listen here—”

“No, you listen! You thought you had something here. And I’m sure your final plan for this mission was going to be spectacular, and paradigm-shifting! But you clearly bit off more than you could chew, and had no idea what the world was going to look like for decades to come. You’ve been relying on your painstakingly detailed sneakery, and the global public forum, but now we’re in the nitty gritty. Now someone has made a choice you did not foresee, and you called me in to clean up your mess. You called me instead of President Cross because you figured I would be more likely to help you, and know how to do so.”

Governor Stockton waited with passive-aggressive patience, but then spoke again, “well? Do you know what to do?”

“I do, but you’re not going to like it.”

“What is it?”

“Swarming.”

“Swarming?”

“Swarming.”

“Like bees, or ants?”

“Like soldiers. The only way to overtake the Korean military, and prevent China from coming to their rescue is to swarm the peninsula quickly, efficiently, and chaotically. All borders need to be completely surrounded while strategic strike teams invade central locations—specifically nuclear facilities. Before China has time to react, the swarm is already dispersing. Also, a group of ants is called an army.”

“Even better. Unfortunately, our army is barely larger than Iceland’s Coast Guard. We would never be able to accomplish such a great feat.”

“You’re right. Federama alone would not. Fortunately, you have a hefty list of allies to supplement.”

“That’s a peace alliance. I would never be able to convince them to do this.”

“You could convince India, and they have the third largest military contingency in the world. Of course, we will assist as well, along with Usonia.”

“Really?”

“Don’t look at me like a child who's been given an extra cookie after dinner. Yes, we will be a part of this. Korea is a threat to everyone. In fact, it will be your job to attack the central points. The rest of us will comprise of the swarm.

“The Korean perimeter must be at least 3,000 naykos long!”

“More like 4,000. Your point?”

“My point is that...will this work?”

“It will probably take about five months of secret planning and refinement, but it can work. Our biggest concerns are China and World War IV, yeah?”

“Indeed.”

“Then swarm tactics is our only hope. We have to hit ‘em, and we have to hit ‘em hard before they have a chance to recover.”

“You sound like a Usonian.”

“You take that back!” Elder replied, only half-jokingly.

“Why would this prevent war?” Stockton asked, moving along. “China and Korea still have nearly half of the world’s military personnel, as you’ve pointed out. Combined with Russia, and maybe even Pakistan, they would be unstoppable.”

“Since the three of us will be the only ones with nuclear arms after it happens, we should be able to stave off war,” Elder explained.

Stockton had no answer.

“Ooooooh,” Elder began. “Oh, you still thought that Cross and I were still going to give up our weapons. Yes,” he said sarcastically, “I can see where you would think that. But no, we’re not going to surrender to you. You want our help, you’ll get it. You want our bombs, you get nothing.”

Stockton still had nothing to say.

“I can see the gears turning in your head. You’re trying to figure out how to get our help with disarming Korea, and then disarm us later. But you see, you did that with Pakistan, and it worked beautifully. But fool me once, as they say.”

“I’ll do it.”

“That either means you concede to the dynamic, or you think you can get the upperhand on us later.”

“Yes,” was all that Governor Stockton said.

Prime Minister Yorick Elder’s estimate of five months was much lower than the truth. Negotiating, compromising, and coordinating with the war alliance took twice that much time. One of the members of the peace alliance, Mongolia was asked to mediate peace negotiations with Korea. This not only continued to curry public favor, but also gave the war alliance time to set about their plans. A year after the idea was first conceived, Usonian and British air forces descended on the Sino-Korean border. The Indian Navy was already on their way to the Eastern and Southern coastlines of Korea, under the guise of disaster relief for the Philippines. Somewhat unlikely ally, Japan agreed to swarm Korea’s western coastline.

World War IV did not begin as a result of this assault, but there were a number of casualties on all sides. Federama did their part and sent in strike forces to steal the nuclear weapons from within Korea. They agreed, however, to not kidnap any scientific experts, as they had with Pakistan, China, and Russia. The deaths of Stage Six would go down in history as the biggest argument against the entire mission, but on the whole, it was another successful one. Governor Stockton also agreed to let the United Kingdom and Usonia keep their own nuclear weapons. But he had proverbial crossed his fingers behind his back. There was no way he wasn’t going back on his word on the matter, even if it meant Federama would lose acknowledgement from the Confederacy. There was too much at stake. He knew he had to formulate new plans to remove these weapons; he just didn’t know how. He was ultimately forced to ask for help from someone he had hoped to never see again.

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Microstory 38: The Sock

“When I was eight years old, I lost a sock in the dryer. It had a green, then blue, then another green stripe at the top. The sole was red, and the base of it had a print of soccer balls. I loved all of my socks, and had one pair for every major sport. My older brother told me that dryers operate at a particular frequency; one that opens up wormholes to other dimensions, and that socks are just the right size to slip through on occasion. He wasn’t being mean. He used a fictional story to validate my overdramatic reaction to something so innocuous. Since then, I’ve been through a few dryers, and lived in several places. When I moved here to Japan, I brought with me very few of my possessions. Somehow, though, when I was doing laundry a few months ago, I found my soccer sock in the dryer. I blinked and shook my head, trying to rationalize it. It probably wasn’t the same sock. It couldn’t be. But it is. It’s the exact design that I remember. There’s even a small hole on a part of the sole that doesn’t usually tear. It’s the same sock, I’m telling you. How did it get here? Had my brother been right? Did dryers open up wormholes? That’s ridiculous, of course. But I’ve always been open to believing in miracles, and I’m not sure that this one doesn’t apply. I wasn’t in a great place when it showed up, and maybe that’s why it came back.”

“That’s an interesting story. But you should probably consider removing your framed sock from the wall for the next party your host.”

“Fair point.”