The Fourth Quadrant: Bag of Rocks (Part II)

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Selma and Andrei volunteer to become Pryce Tree’s human agents, as does Andrei’s love interest, Ayata. The two of them have not yet defined their relationship, but they are definitely some sort of couple. Ayata’s boss, Cosette doesn’t want her to go, but the tree needs a team of three people for safety reasons, and no one else is stepping up. It’s not like the others won’t be doing anything. If they’re going to live in the Garden Dimension, then they’re expected to contribute. Princess Honeypea will have them working with the plants, making sure they’re healthy and happy. She’s excited to have this many people around all at once. It’s a rare sight. These organisms aren’t for show, only for their own preservation. Selma thinks that it’s a bit weird, but the people who run this place seem to think that protecting the otherwise extinct strains is inherently valuable, whether anyone is around to enjoy them or not.

The three agents are asked to wade through the water, halfway across the conflux of the rivers, and onto the dry land on the other side. They expected it to be quite cold, but it’s the perfect temperature, and actually quite relaxing, even as they’re moving through it at a fairly quick pace. They continue to walk in the same direction over the prairie until they come to a door on the side of a hill. They ring the doorbell, as instructed, but instead of receiving a vocal response, the door opens on its own. They follow the steps down into what looks like a bunker. It’s a bit eerie, but only because they don’t exactly know what’s going on; not because anything feels nefarious.

A woman in a lab coat is sitting on a stool behind a counter with her back to them. She’s working on something that they can’t see. She spins around, and pushes her steampunk goggles up to her forehead. “Can I help you?”

“We were told to come here. Are we in the right place?” Andrei asks.

“I dunno. Who told you?”

“The...tr—tree.”

“Ah, yes. If that’s what it said, that’s what it meant.” The scientist removes her goggles altogether, and pulls off her gloves. She grabs an earpiece from the table between them, and sticks it in her ear, but has to hold it in place. “I have three people here?” She listens to a response. “Full tack?” She waits again. “Well, what is their objective?” More waiting. “I could give them the nanosuit implants that Ramses Abdulrashid invented in the main sequence. That would be superior.” Only a few seconds this time. “Okay, then. I’m on it.” She sets the earpiece back down.

“What is a nanosuit?” Ayata asks, intrigued.

“She also said implants. I’m not up for that,” Selma contends.

“You’re not authorized for them anyway,” the scientist lady says. She reaches out. “My name is Weaver. I don’t work for the Garden Dimension, per se, but they let me work out of here, and in exchange, I use some of my technology to protect this world from external threats. I’m told that you’re to receive tactical gear for recon—and possibly offensive—missions. I can tell you how the gear works, and how to use it, but I’m guessing that you’ll be meeting with Captain Montagne for the rundown of your responsibilities. I’m also assuming that Eight Point Seven will be your pilot.”

“Is that someone’s name?” Andrei questions. “Eight Point Seven?”

“It is. Please don’t interrupt me.” She steps around the table, and heads towards an open doorway. “Right this way.” She leads them down the dim hallway, which automatically lights up before them, then dims again behind. A door opens up for her, and they walk into a locker room. She points. “Lav through there, booths for privacy if you need them. You can put your old clothes in one of these bags, and take them with you, or just find an empty locker. Follow the instructions to designate an access code, and leave them here. These big lockers here will have everything you need. It will be obvious how to put the clothing on. You don’t have to look in the packs right now. I’ll train you on them once you’re ready, which we’ll do in the briefing room across the hall.” She goes back through the door to leave them to it. “Whenever you’re ready.”

They’re all friends here, so they don’t use the privacy booths. Once they’re finished getting dressed, they look like bona fide soldiers, and Selma is worried about stolen valor. They aren’t wearing any sort of rank indicators, or whatever, but it still feels disrespectful. She is a civil servant and a leader, not a fighter. What the hell has she gotten herself into? They grab their packs from the bottom of their lockers, and walk over to the briefing room. Weaver has all the contents that are in their own bags laid out on the demonstration table. It’s like a spy movie. She goes over every item, no matter how obvious or mundane, including the extra socks, and firestarter.

“But you don’t know where we’re going, or what we’re gonna be doing?” Selma presses.

“I have no clue,” Weaver admits. “I found out where you’ll be conducting your training, and it won’t be here, but other than that, they’ve told me nothing.”

The faint image of the magnolia tree appears on the other side of the room. Pryce Tree steps out of it as if it were a door, and lets it fade away behind him. “Are you all ready to go?”

“We’re doing training?” Andrei asks him to confirm.

“You didn’t think we were just gonna throw you out there with nothing, did you?” Pryce Tree laughs. “We’re not monsters. You never answered my question.”

This is all very overwhelming, but no one says anything out loud. They just exchange looks, and it’s clear that none of them was prepared for what they were getting themselves into. They should have asked for more information before raising their hands. It doesn’t matter, though, because it’s done. They’re certainly not going to back out now, and saddle someone else with this responsibility. They each nod, and let the magical tree spirit them away.

They’re standing in front of a man in a dojo. He’s wearing robes, and no shoes or socks. He’s cycling through a deck of note cards, presumably trying to learn or memorize something. “I’ll be with you in a second.” He keeps pulling the top card out, and slipping it back into the back. He does a few more before he comes to a stopping point. He checks his watch. “My name is Darko—”

“Heh,” a woman sitting in the corner interrupts him.

Darko rolls his eyes. “For the sake of consistency, I have been asked to change my designation. In the spirit of cooperation with my gracious hosts, you may call me Prince Darko. That’s not my real name. It’s a holdover from an old reality where I was a little less...conscientious. That over there is my apprentice, Jesimula Utkin. Don’t worry about what she thinks.”

“Uh, he’s teaching me taekwondo,” Jesimula corrects. “I know how to fight, I’m just expanding my repertoire.”

“Don’t you have an away mission to prepare for?” Darko asks her.

“It’s a wellness check on New Welrios,” Jesimula explains. “They don’t want me there.”

“I understand the sentiment.”

Jesimula sticks her tongue out like a child, but then leaves.

“Sorry about that. We’re still learning to get along, but we don’t hate each other. As I was saying, I’m Prince Darko Matic—”

“Are you related to Mateo or Leona?” Andrei asks him.

“He’s my half-brother,” Prince Darko answers. “You didn’t get any background info before you came here, did you?”

“We have no idea where we are, or what we’ll be doing,” Selma says.

“What are your names?” Darko asks.

“I’m Andrei Orlov. This is Selma Eriksen, and the lovely and beguiling, Ayata Seegers.”

Darko narrows his eyes at them, but specifically at Ayata. “Seegers.” He starts cycling through his note cards again until he finds what he’s looking for. Hartwin Seegers.”

Ayata is very surprised to hear this. “That’s my grandfather.”

Darko nods. “He served as a tactician in a covert outfit known as SD-6 in the Third Rail. Were you aware of that?”

“We were aware that...he did something,” Ayata acknowledges. “He died a few years ago, before he ever got into specifics.”

“One of his teammates lives here, Kivi Bristol. Would you like to meet here?” It looks like Darko is about to make a call through his watch.

“That’s okay,” Ayata answers quickly.

“Very well.” Darko nods again. “Moving on, I was asked to teach you basic well-rounded combat skills, as well as introductory use of firearms, and common weapons. I was told that this is time-sensitive, which is a little strange since you’re apparently from the past. But I’m not gonna argue with a sentient tree, so I’ll be taking you through my intensive program.” He reaches down to the bench behind him, and lifts the seat to retrieve three mesh bags. He drops one at each of their feet. “These are your bags of rocks. You’ll notice that there’s only one rock in there right now. This represents your lack of skill. Go ahead and pick up your bags,” he directs as if they should have known to do that unprompted. “You will keep your bag with you at all times. You’ll sleep with it, and you’ll shower with it, and when I ask you to run five kilometers, you’ll lug it around the track with you. When you screw up, you get a new rock. When you fail to meet time, you get a new rock. When you talk back to me... That’s right, new rock. Luckily, I’m a merciful teacher. When you do something well, I’ll take a rock back. At the end of your training, the person with the lightest bag wins. I’ll tell you precisely what you win when we cross that bridge. Any questions so far?”

Andrei holds up a hand, but doesn’t wait to be called upon. “Are they weighted? Are major screw-ups awarded by a heavier rock?”

Darko salutes facetiously. “Major Screw-up. Yes, a heavier rock means you failed miserably. A pebble would just be a tiny little mistake.” He pulls a smallish rock out of his robe pocket, steps forward, and slips it into Andrei’s bag.

“What’s this for? Did I already mess up?”

“I just kinda don’t like your voice.” Darko drops another small rock into his bag.

Without a hint of anger, Andrei fiddles with his watch, and then lifts it up to his lips. “How’s this?” he asks, using technology to replicate Darko’s voice instead.

Darko drops a third rock in his bag for a total of four. “I don’t like people mimicking my voice either.” He went back to his place before them. “This was your first lesson. I am the Keeper of the Rocks. I decide what constitutes an addition or subtraction, and there will be no arguing with me about it. I literally asked for questions, so he didn’t technically do anything wrong, but I’m the boss, and I reserve the right to change or reinterpret the rules without even telling you. Any other questions?”

Silence.

“Good, that means you’re learning.” Darko takes two rocks out his pocket, dropping one in Selma’s bag, and the other in Ayata’s. “These are just because it’s Tuesday. All right. Clip those around your waists, and let’s get to it.” He claps his hands, and walks over to slide open a door to another room, which seems to be a boxing gym.

They’re afraid to ask, but come to learn after a few days that this intensive program is set to last three weeks. They run the gamut for basic training. They do weightlifting, cardio exercise, self-defense, boxing, martial arts, weapons safety, marksmanship, and mindfulness. None of them is an elite superspy when they’re done, but they feel stronger and more prepared than they were when this all began. It is Selma who ends up the winner with zero rocks left in her bag. She doesn’t question it when Darko reaches over, and plants a sticker of a smiling sun on her chest. That’s it, that’s the grand prize. And it’s more than enough. For now. She decides that she doesn’t really want to go on any missions. She wants to keep learning.

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Microstory 2290: Speak of it No Further

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In movies, when someone writes a great book, or is expected to write one, they’ll usually just go straight to the publisher. In fact, publishers are usually asking them to write something for them, generally if the person is already famous, and they think they can make some serious money off of a book deal about their experiences. In the real world, you really need to get an agent first. Sure, publishers have contacted me, but not under the assumption that they’ll be dealing with me directly. They’re all asking who my agent is, so they can negotiate with them instead, just as they’re used to. I’ve not been thinking about it too much, so I don’t have one of those. That’s what I need to do now. But when I say I, I mean Dutch, because I’ve placed him in charge of all that stuff. He’ll talk to the agents, and find the right fit for me, and once he does, the two of them will coordinate with the publishers, and go through that whole process, if anything comes to fruition anyway. Either way, I’m not going to worry myself about it, because it’s not really my goal. Not only do I not have time, and because it distracts me from the art itself, but because I am not doing this for anyone else. I am writing this for me. I can always throw it up on a new website, and let anyone read it. I don’t need it to be published. So other people can go ahead and deal with it on my behalf. If nothing comes of it, or I end up with a bad deal, then whatever. It’s not like I need the money, or more fame. I just need to focus on my work, and let it speak for itself. No matter what, you will have the opportunity to experience it, one way or another, and I’m not a hundred percent convinced that that should come at a cost. Again, I’m not concerning myself with any of it, so I shall speak of it no further.

Microstory 2115: One Story at a Time

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In the year 2014, I started publishing my stories for all to see. Well, all on Facebook, anyway. And publish is a strong word. I was posting them at least. I wrote the first one on my phone, using a notes app. It was rather poetic, and not very much like my usual style. I don’t recall now what prompted me to start doing this. I suppose that I was tired of being rejected by literary agents, and ready for people to see my work, whether I was getting paid for it or not. Months later, I started working on my Blogger website, and ported all of the content from Facebook over. It wasn’t that much at the time, but it would become a lot soon. By then, I had come up with a long-term plan, instead of just writing something up day by day, and sending it off. I made a master list, and a rigid schedule. Sundays would be for my continuous main story, Saturdays for longer stories, and weekdays for really short bits. Then I had to start devising narrative ideas. The Advancement of Mateo Matic was already there. I thought of the idea of a character unwillingly being sent forward in time probably a year or two prior, but didn’t know what I would do with it, since it was before the site. I merged it with a preexisting title that was for a completely different series, and really started to focus on that. I had a couple ideas for the Saturday mezzofiction, but they wouldn’t last long, so that was a constantly evolving situation. The microfiction stories were the wild west in the beginning. I was still just coming up with one story at a time, which didn’t have anything to do with each other. It wasn’t until Bellevue Profiles later in 2015 that I started to see potential for complete series.

Okay, this has all taken me longer than I thought it would, particularly the post that I wrote for what will be yesterday for you, and I really feel like I just need to turn myself in to the police. I’m just procrastinating, and for what? I only have a few hundred followers at this point. I guess I’m only going to be scheduling two days out. That gets me through Friday, and I don’t post these on weekends anyway, so that’s practically four days. Maybe they’ll stick me in one of those jail cells with a computer and an internet connection. They have those, right? I dunno, this universe is unfamiliar to me. There’s more to get into about how my blog operates, so maybe I’ll get around to it later. When I finally do get internet access back—if ever—I’m sure I will have so much to catch you up on. I might have joined a prison gang, and gotten a tattoo. Or not. Wish me luck, or to break a leg, or whatever you people say around here.

Microstory 1983: The Choice of Risk

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Reese: How are things going at headquarters?

Anaïs: They’re fine.

Reese: Do you need us to pull you out? Just say the word. Don’t feel obligated.

Anaïs: I’m not just being a big brave girl, Agent. I really am fine. I still feel safe there.

Reese: Okay. So what’s the update?

Anaïs: Washington is finished with her interrogations. She spoke with everyone, and determined that there aren’t any other moles in the department.

Reese: Well...who interrogated Director Washington?

Anaïs: I know that that’s what we’ve been worried about, but I think she cleared her own name in the process. She could have found a mole, and thrown them under the bus, which would have thrown suspicion off of herself. It wouldn’t even have to be real.

Reese: So the fact that she isn’t outwardly doing anything to try to cover her tracks is telling you that she doesn’t have any tracks to cover? I’m sorry, that’s a weak argument. She may just feel comfortable enough in her position.

Anaïs: True, but I’m not the only one working on the problem, am I? Tell me, what has Micro uncovered during her external investigation.

Reese: *nods* Washington does seem clean. We’ve found no indication that she’s making more money than she earns at the office. She’s not making any unusual phone calls. Evidently she visited the original training facility, and picked Sergeant Sachs out after watching him spar, and reading his file. They didn’t know each other before.

Anaïs: Parsons, we don’t have much reason not to trust her. I think she was duped just as much as we were. She really wants to figure this out, and she’s working really hard to do that. I really think she’s all right. She did have a sour word to say about any of you.

Reese: Are you saying that we should try to come back in?

Anaïs: *stepping away to pace a little* It may not be yet time for that, but I do have another test we could try.

Reese: What would that be?

Anaïs: *spins back around* You’re not going to like it.

Reese: Is it dangerous?

Anaïs: No, I wouldn’t say that. In fact, you might be okay with it. If it goes poorly, at least we’ll know that I’m wrong, and she’s a traitor, but if it goes well...

Reese: Yeah...?

Anaïs: If it goes well, Washington might be the one who ends up not too happy.

Reese: All right. Spit it out.

Anaïs: I can go back to her, say that I’ve been looking for you—

Reese: No, that is dangerous.

Anaïs: I’m not even done explaining it.

Reese: It doesn’t matter. If you trust her, then either you and I should stop talking, and you’ll go back there fulltime, or we’ll pull you out and protect you, but you’re not going to put yourself at such risk. The nail that sticks out gets hammered down.

Anaïs: And that would be my choice. It’s a good plan, and I’m at less risk than you think. Why don’t you just wait until you hear the rest of it, okay?

Microstory 1982: Accusations

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Flynn: The Director has pulled up. What do you think she wants to talk to us about?

Celandine: She’s looking for the mole. She’ll be interrogating us for information.

Anaïs: Unless she’s a mole too, in which case the whole thing will be a charade. She may even be intending to frame one of us for it, so she stays in the shadows.

Flynn: You don’t really think she’s a traitor, do you?

Anaïs: Sachs is, and she chose him to join our tack team.

Celandine: That’s proof of nothing. Careful where you throw your accusations.

Anaïs: Why, because they’ll come flying back at me?

Celandine: Maybe.

Flynn: Easy, ladies. We’re all on the same side. Now, I don’t know if the Director is dirty, just like I don’t know if I can trust all these new agents around us. I felt so much more comfortable around the freepersons than I ever thought I would. But the one thing I do know is that I’ve been working with you two for months, and you’re definitely clean. Can we all at least just agree on that, and stick together?

Anaïs: I can.

Celandine: I can too. You’re right, Flynn. *sighs* She’s here. Get ready.

Director Washington: *walking up* Agent Robles, please gather the troops. I would like to address the group as a whole. I do not like repeating myself.

Celandine: Apologies, sir, I’m not in charge here.

*Washington looks over at Investigator Blass*

Blass: It’s true, sir. Herzog made a declaration after the others...after the exodus.

Washington: Investigator Blass, always with the politically safe verbiage. Very well. Go find him, and relay the order. In the meantime, Agent Robles, do you have tea?

*later, in the bullpen, with everyone in the department*

Washington: Last week, we unmasked a traitor in our ranks. Sergeant Sachs was a dedicated soldier, a patriot, and a good man. How he lost his way is something that I have assigned a team to figure out. This small group behind me is here to do the same with the rest of you. I’m going to be honest with you, we don’t know if he was working alone. He could have been a lone zealot, or there are others in your ranks. Or there are others, but they’ve been assigned to other departments. We truly do not know. If you are a mole, this may make you feel safe, comfortable. But I assure you that I will use every tool in my box to root out the cancer in the government, be it one of you, or even the National Commander himself. The aliens are here, and the last thing we need is to be fighting amongst ourselves when they make their next moves. We have to be ready, and this department was originally formed to do that. I’m saddened that it has disintegrated so epically quickly. In the next coming days, you will be questioned. Your backgrounds will be rechecked, and rechecked, and then re-rechecked. Your associates will be investigated, and your history will be traced. In the meantime, you will continue your training here, under the leadership of Agent Robles here. Who is Agent Herzog?

Herzog: Right here, sir. I took the initiative when the defectors...defected.

Washington: I heard. You’re fired, and you’ll be the first in the hot seat. No one does anything without my orders. Does everyone else at least understand that?

Microstory 1977: Deflection

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Reese: No. No. You’re not going anywhere. I want everyone in this room right now.

Sachs: This isn’t everyone. Where’s the paroler, and his partner? And where did the agent just run off to?

Reese: I sent Agent Altimari to the rendezvous point to find the other two you mentioned. She’s the only one here who I trust. The three of you, however, have some explaining to do. Let’s start with you, Sergeant. Why did you fire your weapon?

Sachs: You ordered me to.

Reese: No, I did not.

Sachs: Yes, you did. My spotter told me that I had a shot, and then you said to shoot. I distinctly remember it.

Reese: I told you to only shoot upon my order. If I had wanted you to actually shoot, I would have said fire. That’s why we use two different words; for contextual clarity.

Sachs: Well, that’s not how  I was trained. Something must have gone wrong with the comms. *scowls at Micro* That’s not my department.

Micro: There was nothing wrong with the equipment. I heard his orders just fine. He said, and I quote, shoot only on my command.

Sachs: I’m telling you, I didn’t hear that part. I thought he was telling me to shoot.

Reese: Mr. Dreyer?

Sasho: *looks over at Sachs*

Reese: No, don’t look at him. I’m your superior, you answer to me. Did you hear my complete sentence?

Sasho: *relenting with a sigh* Yes, I heard it. He told you to wait.

Sachs: This is bullshit. I don’t understand why you’re interrogating me when it’s obvious that your buddy and the ex-con are the problem here. They were headed up the stairs, probably to rescue their friend, and now all three of them are gone. They didn’t reach out to you. They didn’t leave a note.

Reese: They’re probably at the rendezvous spot, like I said.

Sachs: And if they aren’t? Are you going to keep trusting them, or are you going to start listening to reason?

*a mug on the table suddenly explodes*

Reese: *sidearm in hand* We’re under attack. Defensive positions!

Sachs: *stands up, and turns around* I told you! *stiffens up, and falls to the floor*

Micro: Tell me, Agent Parsons, do they have psychology in your universe? *turns Sachs to his stomach* And did your psychologists ever come up with the idea of deflection?

Reese: *pointing the gun at her* Explain yourself.

Anaïs: *coming in from the back* He’s the traitor. We have proof. *holds the tranquilizer gun at Sasho* We don’t know anything about this guy, though.

Sasho: I didn’t do anything. *drops his own gun*

Reese: Everyone, drop your weapon. Micro, once you’re done tying him up, do the same to your partner, then Dreyer, and then yourself. I’m going to get to the bottom of this. I detected your private channel during the stakeout. What did you say to Leonard?

Micro: I’ll explain everything, but only in a whisper...and you have to be naked.

Microstory 1976: Nuts or Chips

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Leonard: Did anyone follow you?

Ophelia: Yes. The Mississippian Militia is right behind me, as are all of this guy’s friends, and my sixth grade math teacher.

Leonard: Okay, good.

Ophelia: I know how to lose a tail...which I didn’t have. Nobody is looking for us.

Leonard: Yeah, I’m not seeing anything on the news, but I don’t know enough about this territory to say if that’s typical. This feels a bit like a police state.

Ophelia: Not really. It’s just that, as far as anyone is concerned, nothing happened in that apartment hallway yesterday. There’s a hole in the brick, but I doubt anyone’s gonna notice. Our team may have even literally covered it up by now.

Leonard: We have to get the hell out of this place, and back to the U.S.

Vogel: I can get us all someplace safe, and smuggle us out of the city.

Leonard and Ophelia: *simultaneously* Shut up.

Vogel: Look, you’re gonna have to trust me at some point. I know Mississippi, and I know Memphis. You both are obviously highly capable, but still untrained. Let me help.

Leonard: We can’t trust you. We weren’t in that hallway accidentally. We’ve been looking for you for over a week.

Vogel: I’m not surprised, but you haven’t asked me any questions, except for who shot at us, and why, so whatever you think I did, you’re obviously not certain I’m guilty.

Leonard: We’re certain enough. *to Ophelia* What did you get?

Ophelia: Mostly nuts and chips. There wasn’t a great selection at the inconvenience store. All of the sandwiches looked bad.

Leonard: *tosses Vogel a bag* I prefer nuts. Eat your chips in the bathtub. Turn on the sink faucet. My partner and I need to have a private conversation.

Vogel: *reluctantly heads for the bathroom*

Ophelia: The window?

Leonard: Doesn’t exist. *turns on the TV, and raises the volume*

Ophelia: What the hell are we gonna do?

Leonard: I may have an idea, but it’s risky. I can find us a guy.

Ophelia: You know someone? Aren’t you from, like, another planet, or something?

Leonard: Agent Altimari has contacts here. *points to the bathroom* She found him when the rest of us couldn’t, which made Reese suspicious, so she had to explain where she got the information. I have the name of her supplier here. It’s no guarantee. The last we heard, he was trying to get out of the state himself, so he may already be gone.

Ophelia: Worth a shot, I guess. We don’t have a lot of options. Who is this supplier, and do you have his phone number, or something?

Leonard: I have a dead drop location. Someone is gonna have to stay with our detainee while the other goes out. You got the burner phones too, right?

Ophelia: *tosses him one of them* You sure we can’t reach out to anyone else on the team? Not even Agent Parsons?

Leonard: It’s not that we can’t trust him. We can’t be sure he hasn’t been compromised in some other way, like a tapped phone. Now, how do you work this thing?

Microstory 1975: Team Head

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Investigator Blass: Sir, do you have a minute?

Myka: Sure. Agent Blass, right? What can I do for you?

Blass: Investigator, but just call me Blass. I have some sensitive information, and I’m not sure who I should share it with. I’m hopeful that you’re that person, but...

Myka: You need me to prove myself, which you never expected to ask of a superior.

Blass: Sir.

Myka: I’m not your superior, Agent. I’m just in charge of the building until Agent Parsons returns from assignment. Unfortunately, we have some bad timing, so I’ve had to cover, but I’m mostly only qualified to make sure there’s enough soap in the bathrooms, and pickles in the fridge.

Blass: I don’t like pickles sir, and we can’t wait for Subdirector Parsons.

Myka: Subdirector? Is that his new title?

Blass: He leads the subdepartment of a major government department, so yes.

Myka: I see. Go ahead and tell me what you need to get off your chest. If it turns out you can’t trust me, you probably wouldn’t have had much luck finding someone better. I’m not at the top, but I’m also an outsider, which means I don’t have any interest or experience in internal organizational politics.

Blass: That’s some interesting logic there. *hesitates still* We’ve been training for months. As soon as that first alien showed up in our world, the government started preparing for the second one, and a possible oncoming invasion. We were pulled from all relevant walks of life. We’ve got people with military backgrounds, law enforcement; we even have our own former parole officer, if you can believe it. She’s anxious to meet Supervisory Agent Miazga. As far as I know, I was the only one relocated from the ICC.

Myka: I’m afraid I’ve never heard of that one.

Blass: Internal Compliance Commission.

Myka: Oh.

Blass: While the others were training to fight, I was there to spy on them.

Myka: Did you find something?

Blass: I found someone. Only one, I believe, but it’s a big deal. He has ties to Russia, North Korea...and Mississippi.

Myka: *shaking her head* Don’t say what I think you’re gonna say.

Blass: I didn’t realize before, because we’ve been arriving at these headquarters in waves, but now that everyone else is accounted for, I was able to jump to two possible conclusions. Either the mole was caught by someone else, and extracted, or... 

Myka: Or he was already here. And now he’s out there.

Blass: Yes, there were rumors that someone was put on assignment early.

Myka: Thank you, Blass. I need to make a call. *dials on the computer*

Blass: Sir. *leaves*

Reese: *on the video screen* I can’t talk right now, Mykey. We’re operational. *into the radio* Shoot only on my command!

Myka: Don’t let him shoot anyone, Reese! He’s dirty!

Sachs: *fires rifle*

Microstory 1952: The Office

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Myka: Are we really doing this?

Reese: Too late to back out now.

Leonard: Couldn’t we quit, just like any other job?

*they look at him incredulously*

Leonard: Let me guess, it doesn’t work like that on your world.

Reese: You signed a contract. You are required to give your employer one month’s notice if you intend to quit. I’ve never heard of a job that doesn’t work like that.

Leonard: How much notice does my employer have to give before firing me, ha-ha.

Reese: Two months.

Leonard: Oh. Where I’m from, it’s common courtesy to give your boss two weeks, but they don’t have to give you anything. They can have security escort you out immediately.

Myka: That’s sad. Anyway, Reese, this place is nice. I love how you lord over everyone from your perch up here. Did you have any say in how these offices would look?

Reese: Only a little. And this is your perch too. Leonard, your office is the one on my right. Myka, that’s yours on my left.

Myka: I still don’t know what I’m here to do. I’m not an agent, am I?

Leonard: I don’t know the answer to that question either.

Reese: None of us is an agent. Those will be provided by the government at a later date. I believe some of them are presently in training. Leo, they’ll probably ask you to join them at some point, as you will be in charge of the agents and operatives.

Leonard: I thought you were in charge.

Reese: I’m in charge of everyone. Once the paperwork goes through, you’ll be the Supervisory Special Agent.

Leonard: That is quite the step up from where I was. Whew. Okay, it’s good to have a little time to wrap my brain around that.

Myka: And me?

Reese: Facilities. You’ll supervise IT, building management, cleaning, kitchen... Basically everything that keeps the building itself running, you’ll be responsible for that.

Myka: So I should have been consulted with the layout?

Reese: *laughing* They used to use this place for something else. You can choose the layout of the bullpen, and other things, but you probably can’t tear down, or build any new, walls. I want everyone to understand that, while we’re doing this in preparation for a possible alien invasion—or some less obvious form of it—it could happen any day. We want to be ready to work as fast as possible. We may be making a lot of temporary decisions until something more sustainable can be put in place. We already have two fridges and freezers in the break room, though, and this...is a metal government credit card with no spending limit. Myka, buy what you think an office will need.

Myka: *takes the card* I’m on it.

Reese: And Leonard? Tell me what you think about this.

Leonard: *takes it* A new badge. Hm. It’s a lot heavier than the one I had before.

Reese: This is even heavier. *hands him a gun*

Microstory 1951: Leader de Jure

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Reese: SI Eliot! Wait up. I’m glad I caught you.

SI Eliot: Is this urgent, Parsons? I’m about to step into a meeting with the Director.

Reese: It’s about the jobs you offered Mr. Miazga and Miss Tennison?

SI Eliot: You can just call them Leonard and Myka, Agent Parsons. We all know that you’re friends with them. I assume that you’re worried about what our angle is. I assure you that there is no nefarious purpose to our offers. Very few people know what we know, and we would like to keep it that way, at least for now. We believe that the two of them possess valuable skills and knowledge that we may need in the future.

Reese: Well, what about the others; the other three freewomen, and the escapees?

SI Eliot: They have received their own job offers.

Reese: Really?

SI Eliot: Yes. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I really must get in there.

OSI Director: It’s all right, Hisham. This meeting is about him, after all. He may as well be there. It’s not like I need your permission to proceed.

SI Hisham Eliot: Very well. After you, Agent Parsons.

Reese: *stepping into the conference room, and sitting down* This meeting is about me? In what context, may I ask?

OSI Director: How long have you been on loan to us from Fugitive Services?

Reese: A few months.

OSI Director: And before that? How long were you in FS?

Reese: About eleven years, sir.

OSI Director: That’s a decent run. *pauses* How would you like a job here?

Reese: I thought I did a job here, don’t I? My tenure was marked as indefinite.

OSI Director: That’s what I’m saying. Let’s define it. Let’s decide that you’re no longer on loan, but a fulltime permanent employee of the Office of Special Investigations.

Reese: This is...unexpected. I always assumed that I would go back. I never thought about doing anything else. I barely unpacked my belongings in my office here.

OSI Director: That’s probably for the best. If you agreed, we would give you a new one.

Reese: Sir?

Hisham: She wants you to lead the staff of a new department of national security, incorporating personnel and resources from a number of other branches and divisions. You would not be in charge of the office itself, but you would be managing the employees, which would include your friends, and the other...consultants. The National Commander has been discussing doing something like this with us, and the Assembly, for a while now. Officially, the name of this department would be the Department of Exogenic Affairs. Since there’s already a DEA, it would be known as DExA for short.

OSI Director: Does that sound like something that you would be interested in?

Reese: Again, this is quite the surprise. I suppose I should have guessed that something in government would change as a result of these developments, but I never thought I would be considered for a leadership role. I only have de facto experience.

OSI Director: We believe that’s enough. Why don’t you think it over, and get back to us in two days, okay? NatCo wants to get the ball rolling by the end of this month.

Microstory 1946: Reese’s Debrief

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Special Investigator: Please state your full name for the record.

Reese: Agent Reese Fortitude Parsons, Fugitive Services.

Special Investigator: Please describe your last mission.

Reese: We were sent to investigate a scientific anomaly of some kind that appeared in the Wyoming desert. We were told that an intrusion from another world could have taken place, so we were there to take reconnaissance, and report back.

Special Investigator: Did you ever report back?

Reese: Not until there was something to report.

Special Investigator: Who is we? Who went with you?

Reese: A civilian, Leonard Miazga, and another civilian, Myka Tennison.

Special Investigator: To your knowledge, were others involved in this mission?

Reese: Three of Miss Tennison’s friends secretly followed us. My superior, Special Investigator Eliot sent a shadow team to follow as well. They only made contact after the aliens were discovered. Plus, an unrelated third party showed up on the hunt.

Special Investigator Eliot: We’ll get to the party-crashers, and the aliens. First, I wanna know why you thought it was pertinent to be joined by not one, but two, civilians.

Reese: One of the civilians is former law enforcement, and was fully cleared by this office for temporary active duty.

SI Eliot: Oh, he was, was he? Which means that you were aware of the proper procedures for deputization, and simply ignored them for the second civilian.

Reese: I followed protocol according to my training and experience as a Fugitive Agent.

SI Eliot: You were not working in your capacity as a Fugitive Agent for this mission.

Reese: I believed that I was still a Fugitive Agent to enough of an extent. Everything about the mission parameters suggested that we were searching for fugitives, and even if it didn’t, we found them.

SI Eliot: That’s a stretch, to call them fugitives. They’ve never been here before.

Reese: It’s a stretch that I’m willing to accept if you are.

SI Eliot: I’ll consider it.

OSI Director: *knocks three times on the glass*

SI Eliot: *looking at the one-way mirror* My boss would like me to switch gears. Tell me more about the aliens. Would you have categorized them as hostile?

Reese: No, sir. They were peaceful...uncomfortably so.

SI Eliot: How do you mean?

Reese: Their straightforwardness made it seem as though they were hiding something.

SI Eliot: You believe that they were telling you so many truths in order to cover up a real secret?

Reese: That’s correct.

SI Eliot: Fair assessment. We’ll be sure to work on them from that angle.

Reese: You’ve kept them apart from each other, right? They can escape if they can get to one another. They can’t go anywhere if they’re each alone.

SI Eliot: You don’t have to worry about that anymore. Try to think like a suspect in this situation. It’ll make this easier. We have a lot to talk about today.

Microstory 1945: Cutting Teeth

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Leonard: Hold your fire! I know them!

Reese: I do too.

Shadow Team Leader: Yeah, I recognize them from the files.

Leonard: Look who’s in the back.

Reese: I see him. [...] Jail Guard, We’re surprised to see you, especially with those two.

Former Jail Guard: Well, after what happened, I was fired. They said it wasn’t about the escape, but we all know it was. It turned out to be the greatest thing that ever happened to me. But that’s a roundabout story. I’m sure you don’t have time for it.

Leonard: And you two? How did you end up here, and why?

Escapee 4: Part of that is part of Former Jail Guard’s story.

Shadow Team Leader: I need to know the truth; the whole truth. If there’s a leak or a weakness in our organization, we have to understand it so we can fix it. No one was meant to know about this operation. How did you find out about it?

Former Jail Guard: Well, if you insist, I’ll get into it. Like I said, I was fired, but not before I met you, Agent Parsons. I was inspired by your words at the law station, and I started looking into applying to Fugitive Services. Of course, I’m not really qualified for all that. Apparently everyone needs some kind of predating story?

Reese: It’s not an official requirement, but it’s an unwritten custom that FS doesn’t accept you unless you’ve already caught someone. Most people go after small fish; a simple bounty that any rookie could find. They’re usually hiding at their girlfriend’s.

Former Jail Guard: I didn’t wanna do that. I wanted to cut my teeth on something pretty big. I met with your former partner, and he—perhaps unwittingly—gave me the impression that no one was really looking for the five escapees. It’s not like the competition would have been my greatest obstacle, but I still figured I had a better shot. And obviously *points* I found them. Well, I found most of them.

Escapee 1: Four out of five ain’t bad.

Leonard: Where are the other two?

Escapee 1: Escapee 2 and Escapee 3 didn’t want to stick around. He let them go.

Former Jail Guard: They told me about how Agent Parsons found the fifth escapee. The story was really weird, so I was intrigued. I think we uncovered a lot, right? We learned about the bond groups, and the OSI. You were in a fancy hotel at one point. I just knew that there was something more to this, so I reached out to...someone who could help me hack into the OSI’s system.

Shadow Team Leader: So there is a weakness.

Former Jail Guard: There was a leak. Don’t worry, it’s been plugged since, but not before the three of us discovered that there was something freaky going on in the middle of nowhere Wyoming. We didn’t know for sure that we would find you here, but we knew there would be something. We saw the footprints leading here from the road, so—

Shadow Team Leader: Wait, what? Footprints? There should be no footprints.

Former Jail Guard: There was one set, leading in this direction.

Shadow Team Leader: We wiped everybody’s tracks on our way here, including our own. Weapons up again, folks. Someone else is here.

Microstory 1944: Disclosure

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Reese: So, this is the infamous shadow team that’s been following us around in the desert? Are we havin’ fun yet?

Shadow Team Leader: Agent Parsons. What did you find down there?

Reese: Three aliens.

Shadow Team Leader: Are they still alive?

Reese: They are. They claim that they’re not here to harm us.

Shadow Team Leader: We’ll let the OSI decide that. That’s above both of our paygrades. Have you detained them?

Reese: I placed them in handcuffs, but...

Shadow Team Leader: But what?

Reese: But they have wings.

Shadow Team Leader: So they can just fly away whenever they want?

Leonard: They can’t fly. It’s more like they can jump real high, and then fall down slowly. At least, that’s what the intel says.

Shadow Team Leader: What’s the point of having wings then?

Leonard: I believe they evolved from creatures who could fly, but lost the ability in a practical sense due to their weight. Still, the wings are dangerous. We need to figure out how to secure them for transport.

Shadow Team Leader: Now that we’ve confirmed that they’re here, I can call in a containment unit. *addressing the group* I would like to thank you all for your service. For those of you without badges, I have been ordered to let you go free without issue, regardless of any outstanding warrants you may or may not have. We’ll ask you to keep what you know secret, however, and a special team or agent will be making contact with you soon to ensure that you have complied with this demand. Should they find that you’ve spread the word to even one other person, I’ve been asked to warn you that there will be severe consequences. Nothing is for you to say. Am I understood?

Myka: My girls understand secrecy.

Shadow Team Leader: Even against your little group of bonded ex-cons? As I understand it, you share everything with everyone.

Myka: The way you understand it is wrong. We knew the risks when we came out here.

Shadow Team Member 2: Sir? *whispers something to Shadow Team Leader*

Shadow Team Leader: Is anyone else out here with you, Agent? Did you conscript anyone else, or tell them where you would be?

Reese: No.

Myka: Absolutely not. I kept this whole thing to a small circle. Why, what happened?

Shadow Team Member 1: We’ve spotted an all-terrain vehicle headed this way.

Reese: Listen, I don’t think that one of these things can fit in a car. I told you about the wings. They’re of decent size. None of the seats down there have backs.

Shadow Team Member 1: So the driver is human; that doesn’t mean they’re not dangerous. Weapons up.

*everyone with a gun points it towards the oncoming vehicle, which is now in view*

Shadow Team Member 1: Shoot on my order, and only on my order.

Microstory 1943: Testing and Training

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Ochivar Lieutenant: Please, don’t shoot. We surrender.

Myka: They’re real. Oh my God, they’re actually real. Reese, aliens are real.

Reese: Are you the one in charge?

Ochivar Lieutenant: No. They sent me out here in case you’re the type to shoot first and ask questions later. The important people; the Admiral and Captain, are waiting for you in the room.

Reese: What room? What is it for? What is this place? What are you doing in our universe? How long have you been here?

Ochivar Lieutenant: That explains how you found us so fast. You have already encountered my kind, haven’t you? You were probably waiting.

Leonard: We devised a means of detecting your arrival.

Reese: Don’t tell it anything.

Leonard: Sorry.

Reese: Take us to your leader. *chuckles* Always wanted to say that.

Ochivar Lieutenant: Follow me.

Myka: Stay out here and stand guard, Freewoman 2.

Ochivar Admiral: Hello, humans. Welcome to our testing and training facility. I am the Admiral. This here is my Captain, and his Lieutenant.

Reese: Testing and training. What does that mean? It was impossible to navigate through here, but this is the only door we’ve seen so far. It looks a little small to stage an army. Are you manufacturing your virus, or something?

Ochivar Admiral: Limerick’s heart, no. It’s nothing of the sort. You see, we were once much like you. We were young and hopeful. We developed technology, and we took over our world. Things seemed to be going okay, until we realized that we were destroying everything at the same time. Of course, that was none of us; it was our ancestors who ruined our home planet. They survived it, though, and were determined to fix things. We found a way out of our universe, and into others. And what we saw was history repeating itself. We decided we didn’t want to see anyone go down the same path that we did. The fact that the majority of intelligent species we’ve met have been human is something that has always been out of our hands, so please don’t mistake our actions as racist or xenophobic. We understand that our methods may sound distasteful, but we believe that sterilizing doomed species is the most ethical and humane option possible. We’ve seen what populations do when left to their own devices. We went through it ourselves.

Leonard: Who are you to judge? Having power does not give you the right.

Ochivar Admiral: Oh, but it does. That’s all power is; having the right by strength of force, and unchallengeable status. But we needn’t argue. Like I said, this is a testing and training facility. We are not here to sterilize you. We’ve studied your people, and you are right on track to a healthy and respectful relationship with your planet. We are not monsters. We apologize for any distress our arrival has caused, but we chose this as a site to test our anti-detection procedures. Obviously they need work.

Freewoman 2: Hey, Myka. Freewoman 3 came down. We’ve got company. It’s an operative, trying to run the injured wanderer maneuver on us. How should we proceed?

Microstory 1942: Injured Wanderer

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Shadow Team Leader: This is Shadow Team Leader, reporting in. Do you read me, Special Investigator?

Special Investigator: Shadow Team Leader, this is Special Investigator. Go ahead.

Shadow Team Leader: We think the recon team has found something. Most of them have disappeared into the ground, presumably into some kind of bunker, or underground facility.

Special Investigator: An underground facility? All the way out there?

Shadow Team Leader: We believe so, sir. Whatever it is, they climbed into it willingly. It was just a minute ago.

Special Investigator: Who did they leave topside?

Shadow Team Leader: Two of the freewomen they had with them.

Special Investigator: The primary?

Shadow Team Leader: No, one of the secondaries. How should we proceed, sir?

Special Investigator: Are the freewomen armed?

Shadow Team Leader: One of them is, sir.

Special Investigator: We can’t risk an incident. If there are hostiles down there, we can’t appear to be discoordinated, or internally disharmonious. *pause* One of you needs to run an injured wanderer maneuver. Are there any women on your team? I think the freewomen will respond better to one of their own.

Shadow Team Leader: Shadow Team Member 1 can do it. She’s done it before. How badly do you want her to be injured?

Special Investigator: Turn her ankle and cut her upper arm.

Shadow Team Leader: Understood. Shadow Team Leader out.

Shadow Team Member 1: The cut should be on the same side as the turned ankle. I should be leaning to one side to sell it my vulnerability

Shadow Team Leader: Agreed. My knife or yours?

Shadow Team Member 1: Neither. The cut will be too smooth. If I hurt myself in a car wreck, it needs to be jagged and uneven.

Shadow Team Member 2: I can handle that. I was an art major. Which side?

Shadow Team Leader: Not here. Let’s runabout to the other side. None of them is from the area. They don’t know how close the street is from that side of their current position, but they know we’re too far from the road that came from for someone as hurt as she’s gonna be to have wandered that far.

*a little later*

Shadow Team Member 1: Hello? I could see you from way out there! I thought it was a mirage! Wait, you’re not a mirage, are you?

Freewoman 3: Stop! State your business!

Shadow Team Member 1: Hold on, I can’t hear ya! Ugh, ow. I was trying to look at the map. I’m such an idiot. I ran off the road, and hit these rocky slaps that were just sticking out of the ground like someone put them there. I couldn’t find my phone in the wreckage. It’s probably there, but now I only have one arm. Can I borrow yours?

Freewoman 3: That’s close enough. I’m going to get help. Watch her, Freewoman 4.

Microstory 1930: Rights of the Accused

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Junior Special Investigator: Leonard Miazga?

Leonard: Yes, that’s me. Do you work at the Office of Special Investigations?

Jr. Investigator: That’s not for you to know. All you need to know is that you are under arrest under special extenuating circumstances. Under the Alsten Act, according to Provision 83 of Special Investigations Code One, I hereby detain you for the defense of national security. You are not entitled to representation, and must comply with all demands, and answer all questions. All crimes committed prior to this moment, including those seemingly unrelated to the current accusations, as well as any crimes committed following this moment, shall be taken under consideration when considering judgment, punishment, or any other outcome of your circumstances. Do you understand everything I’ve informed you of today?

Leonard: Not really.

Jr. Investigator: Sir.

Leonard: What’s the Alsten Act?

Jr. Investigator: Sir, please.

Leonard: Please tell me that you recited those words verbatim, and that you didn’t try to regurgitate it using your own words.

Jr. Investigator: We are required to recite your status and rights in the eyes of federal law in order to detain you properly, using the exact same words as they are written and approved by the Office of the National Commander.

Leonard: So when I say that the words were repetitive, nonsensical, and just overall ridiculous, you won’t take personal offense?

Jr. Investigator: No, sir.

Leonard: Are you required to address me as sir?

Jr. Investigator: No.

Leonard: Then just call me Leonard, or Leo.

Jr. Investigator: Sir...Leo, I require you to state in no uncertain terms that you understand your rights as I have listed them for you.

Leonard: You mean the rights that have been stripped from me? Yeah, I guess so.

Jr. Investigator: [...]

Leonard: I mean, yes, I unequivocally understand them perfectly, fully, and perfectly.

Jr. Investigator: I’m going to have to place these handcuffs on you, but you may retrieve a coat, and drape it over your arms to remain inconspicuous.

Leonard: I don’t have a coat. It was summer on my world when I came here, and it’s summer now. I don’t exactly have a credit card to recreate my wardrobe. Besides, I’ve seen that before as a bystander, and let me tell ya, the coat trick ain’t foolin’ no one.

Jr. Investigator: Very well, sir—Leonard. I’ll leave the cuffs rather loose, as long as you promise not to make any attempt at escape.

Leonard: I promise to not try to escape. I’ll get this all sorted out at OSI.

Jr. Investigator: Uh...one more thing.

Leonard: Yes?

Jr. Investigator: Once we get into the car, you’re gonna have to wear a hood.