Microstory 2443: March 14, 2016

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I came to this dome mostly out of curiosity. Not only does it seem so random and vague, but there’s also no information on it. Most prospectuses in the catalog have a lot of information about what you’re getting into. Even the more secretive ones, like Foggy Forest still give data about temperature and wind patterns, and the types of plantlife that can be found there. It also warns you about how dangerous or troublesome it might be for the younger crowd, or people with heart conditions, or whatever. March 14, 2016 does not have anything. There’s not even a picture associated with it, which was the weirdest part about it. All it shows is the title, and under that, the word “Perfect”. I don’t have a family, or anything going on in my life. I’m guessing that I’ll probably move here on a more permanent basis, so I have plenty of time to explore the other domes. I figured I might as well check this one out, especially since I seem to be the first person to review it. There’s a chance that I was even the first visitor ever? I don’t believe that any other visitor was there at the same time, but it can be hard to tell since the androids just look like people. Though, I will say that no one else seemed confused or weirded out, so I really do think that I was alone. Enough of the build-up, what is March 14, 2016? Well, it appears to be St. Louis, Missouri, presumably the way it looked like on that date. The only reason I say that is because there’s a big arch that looks exactly like the one in the photos. I pulled out my handheld device, and tried to figure out where I was standing at any one time, but nothing seemed to match up. All of the street signs were blank. Almost none of the buildings had signs of any kind, and I’ll get to that here in a bit. First, I wanna tell you that the buildings weren’t real either. They were basically cardboard cutouts, including only the façade. You can walk in them, but be careful with the doors. It’s very unsettling, because there aren’t any interior walls or furniture. It feels like the whole thing is about to come down. Unlike the Kansas City replica dome, this was all fake; not just a replica. Remember when I said that there were androids? Well, not a whole lot of them. They weren’t walking on the sidewalks, or crossing the streets. They weren’t driving the cars—or pretending to drive, anyway, because the vehicles were fake too. They had all congregated in one place. It might sound like a big event or gathering, but that’s not right either. There was a reasonable number of people at a store of some kind, which were common in this time period before they were replaced with free inventoria. Some were wearing blue vests or polo shirts, and name tags, so I’m assuming they worked there. Everyone else was wearing whatever, so they were probably customers. Unlike everywhere else, the store had a sign, but it too was disappointing, because it was just given the generic name of Superstore. The inside was full of stuff; the kind of stuff I’m told would be typical of the age in a store. It had gizmos and gadgets and clothes. People were buying things, and then walking out. Nothing interesting or crazy happened all day. I kind of thought maybe that there was a bombing here, or some kind of attack? Or maybe ghosts would fly out of the walls, and start scaring people. But nothing. Everyone smiled at each other. While no one actually said a word, they behaved as if they were talking to each other. There didn’t appear to be any conflict. At the end of the “day” the store shut down, and hours later, it reopened, and restarted the exact same routine over again. I tried to find any other places of activity, but couldn’t. I did find other Superstore locations, but they weren’t populated. I don’t know what to make of it. Maybe someone else can try it, and see something different.

Microstory 1997: Wild Beasts

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SI Eliot: *sits down across from Reese*

Reese: I thought we agreed to stay on opposite sides of the jet, and never speak to each other again for the rest of our lives.

SI Eliot: Yeah, but I’ve been thinking about what happened at the meeting, though, and I think we should touch base about it.

Reese: Calling that a meeting would be like calling a stampede of wildebeests a casual jog with a few friends. That was one of the most horrifically uncomfortable experiences of my life, and I just wanna forget it ever happened.

SI Eliot: Lower your voice. There could be listening devices on this thing.

Reese: That would just be like Commander Virtue. You’re right, but I don’t care. Let the plane go down. At least that would leave me in peace. I’m still drunk, and now hungover.

SI Eliot: Ha-ha, he’s joking. Commander Virtue is an honorable man, and we are lucky that he lent us one of his aircraft for the trip home.

Reese: *sighs, then takes a device out of his bag* I swept for bugs while you were in the lavatory. You think this is my first time on an unsecured mode of transportation? Please.

SI Eliot: You see, I knew there was a reason you were promoted over me.

Reese: Are you still on that?

SI Eliot: No, I’m... I meant that sincerely. I was bitter before, but I’m over it. Besides, I’m not exactly envious of all the meetings you’re gonna have to have with that man now that you’re a director.

Reese: Oh my God! I wasn’t even thinking about that. I was just relieved to be out of there, I forgot that it’s still not over. It will never be over, will it?

SI Eliot: Not until the next administration.

Reese: When will that be?

SI Eliot: Three years, if he doesn’t secure reëlection, of course.

Reese: Of course. Gah! Hold on. Deputy Director.

SI Eliot: You mean Celandine Robles?

Reese: No. The deputy often accompanies directors on meetings and conference calls. If I made you my deputy instead, you could help me deal with him.

SI Eliot: Oh, no. Have you heard Director Washington complain about him? She hates him too, but she’s never described that kind of craziness before. He’s different around men. He thinks he can be himself, and that we’ll understand. The way I see it, Deputy Robles is your best option on that front, along with all the other fronts.

Reese: That was a test. I needed to know if you were still gunning for my job, and just decided to be nice and underhanded about it.

SI Eliot: If anything, it’s gotten me to seriously consider switching to the private sector.

Reese: Really? You would do that? You’re such a...patriot.

SI Eliot: Well, I don’t mean to toot my own horn, but I’ve gotten an offer or too.

Reese: Well, congratulations. Hey, wait, that’s the St. Louis Arch. It’s gigantic.

SI Eliot: What? We shouldn’t be able to see that. Reese, I think we’re landing.

Captain: *through the intercom* Folks, you may have noticed we’re a little off route. No need to worry. We just have to make an emergency landing. I’ll update again soon.

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?”

Crossed Off: Gateway (Part IV)

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Denton followed professor Shapiro back to Hudson during the break while Starla and Alec started their trip towards Kansas City with Kathleen. Alec was supposed to give up the reigns to Kathleen halfway through so that he could rest, but she ended up falling asleep, and didn’t wake up until he had gone over twelve hours straight. She immediately forced him to pull over. They hadn’t left as early as they wanted so they decided to stay the night in St. Louis instead of trying to make it all the way.
Right out of college, Tristan found a high-paying executive position at a medical technology company. He liked to give his sister, Kathleen money, and he considered it an insult to not take it. Eventually, she got used to this, and stopped the modest refusals. He hooked them up with a pretty fancy hotel suite. Each of their rooms had its own television set, and the larger television in the communal area had a video tape recorder. They wouldn’t have time to use it, but it was nice to have around.

One side effect from Starla’s ability was that her dreams were entirely lucid, and she could remember every detail about it upon waking. This allowed her to tell the difference between a dream of her own and a body jump. She had developed laser focus and never jumped when she didn’t want to, except, of course, with Alec. This time was different. She had no choice but to jump over to Denton’s body. It was like he was summoning her to him. Did you somehow bring me here? she asked him with her thoughts.

Not on a conscious level, he replied. I think we’re connected. I think the more of us that come together, the easier it is to find even more.

Why do you say that? Starla asked.

Do you know where we are?

He was in an elevator, so she had no way of knowing exactly where. You have to think it to me. I can read your mind without you knowing it when we’re in proximity, but I only have surface access remotely.

This is the Confederacy Building. I came here as a tourist, but now I have the urge to go up to the twenty-fourth floor. The closer I get, the stronger the feeling of familiarity. It’s the same thing I felt when I first met you. Initially, I thought it was just because I was sexually attracted to you, but I felt the same thing around Magnus Shapiro, and I’m not that attracted to him. There’s some sort of scientific phenomenon we do not understand that binds us together. We’re all different, but there must be some kind of trait that we all share, that others do not possess.

So you think there’s another one of us in this building?

The elevator stopped and the doors opened. Denton cautiously stepped out. Yes, I do. A part of me can’t imagine there not being someone else. Denton walked down the halls like one would a labyrinth. He would step in one direction, only to realize that it was the wrong way, so he’d step back and go another way. He ended up in the middle of a large collection of cubicles. It was so late that only a few people were still there. He scanned the room, looking for some sign, but saw nothing obvious. He took one more step forward.

A woman in the middle of the room stood up and curiously turned around to lock eyes with him. She quickly maneuvered around the cubicles and approached him. “What language do you speak?”

“Standard C,” he answered.

“What’s happening here?”

“You brought me here. Rather, something brought us together.” Denton stopped and tilted his head. “What department is this?”

“Interpretation and Translation,” the woman replied.

“Language. Why didn’t I think to immerse myself in that before.” He swayed back and forth, reveling in the flood of data being sent to his brain. “I’m getting so many different languages from you. Dozens. Ones I couldn’t even name. How do you know so many? And how am I absorbing it so quickly?”

The woman was shocked, but excited. “I don’t know how you’re doing it at all. I can’t absorb a language unless someone is speaking it.”

“But it’s just language with you. You don’t gain any other information?”

“No, of course not. But you do. Why are we how we are?”

“I have someone I think you should meet. He and I are trying to figure that out. There are others. We all do something different.”

“I thought I was just...” she tried to find her words, “just different. Smarter, maybe. Some form of hyperthymesia.”

Denton laughed. “That’s pretty much what Magnus Shapiro thought.” He turned his attention inward. You’re awfully quiet, Starla. I know you’re still there, though.

I was letting you do whatever it is you wanted to do. But you should probably ask her name, at the very least.

Good point. He extended his arm. “I’m Denton Wescott.”

She shook his hand. “Ling Guo.”

“Are you done with work?” He put his head down like a child with his first crush. He definitely didn’t act like that around Starla, and he was still with Kathleen, as far as she knew. “Do you wanna go grab some coffee and talk? Ya know, for research purposes.”

“Research, of course. Yes.”

I’m leaving. Best of luck to you with whatever the hell this is.

‘Kay byee, Denton thought back to her. “Wait,” he accidentally said out loud.

“What?” Ling asked.

“Oh, sorry, not you.”

“Do what now?”

Starla, can you understand the thoughts of any language?

Thoughts are thoughts, Starla explained. People think in abstracts, not sentences. It doesn’t matter what language they speak; they think the same way. That’s how I communicate with people all over the world.

“Are you doing something?” Ling pressed. “Blink twice if something is wrong.”

Denton closed his eyes once and held them down deliberately before opening again. Now that there are four of us, we need to get together and gather more data. You should come here to Hudson.

Alec and Kathleen are never going to agree to that, and I can’t exactly leave on my own.

We’ll figure something out. Maybe we’ll come down to Kansas City instead.

Goodnight, Denton. Be careful.

He ignored her final remark. “Night, Starla.” This time he knew full well that he was saying it aloud.

“Are you talking to someone else?”

Denton smiled. “Let’s go. I’ll tell you all about it.” He let slip a few stray thoughts about his sudden feelings for Ling. It was clear that being around someone who could alone provide him with so much knowledge was intoxicating to him.

Should Starla tell Kathleen, or no? She was his gracie, after all. Did she not have the right to know? She went back to her own private dreams and decided to sleep on it.

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