Showing posts with label assignments. Show all posts
Showing posts with label assignments. Show all posts

Wednesday, December 27, 2023

Microstory 2048: South Carolina

My papa didn’t want any more sadness once he knew that he was going to have to leave his family soon. He wanted to have one last really happy memory with us. He decided that we should go down to Myrtle Beach, South Carolina. A lot of people like to go there to party, but they mostly do it in the spring and summer. This was in the winter, around Christmastime. It was the last Christmas that my papa ever saw. According to people who lived there, it was pretty cold at the time, but it wasn’t anywhere near as could as it gets up here in Massachusetts, so we didn’t mind. We couldn’t go into the ocean, but we sat on the beach, and enjoyed spending time together. We didn’t do a lot of activities, but it was nice and quiet, since the party-goers were living their regular lives in other places. We spent a lot of time in the hotel, playing board games, and just talking. I skipped a lot of school in the fifth grade. That’s okay, because I made up all of my assignments, and I wanted to be with my family. Papa was really tired all the time, but he still smiled, and he could still make me laugh. We were lucky for that too. Most people with the disease who were that far along in their journey have trouble speaking. He was sometimes hard to understand, but he could still talk well enough.

Thursday, August 31, 2023

Microstory 1964: Assignment

Generated by Google Workspace Labs text-to-image AI software
Sergeant Hyram Sachs: [...] So while I may look old—and I may be old—it’s only because I have twenty-seven years of experience in the army, and nearly as much as a sniper. I’m still lively and wiry, and I know what I’m doing. If you’re sitting next to me, I’ll do everything I can to keep you alive. If you’re on the other end of scope...I can’t promise you’ll see the next sun rise. Anyway, I appreciate you letting me join you a little early, even though I’ve technically not yet completed the specialized training. I know that this is a pretty tight-knit group, so I’ll remember to respect that, and be humble, and a good team-player. I’ll ask you to be patient with me while I find my place here.
Reese: This isn’t a tight-knit group. Besides me and Leonard, no one here has known anyone else for more than a few days. And even then, he and I measure our friendship in weeks. *exhales* We’re all starting something new today. Sergeant, you actually have an advantage, because only one of us has been on a tactical team before.
Anaïs: Oh, me? I’ve never been on a seven-star. I mostly work alone. I’ve been on teams, of course, but never like this. No, this is all you. We’ll follow you’re lead.
Reese: Okay. Well, like I was saying, this is new. I’ve spoken to each of you individually, but now we all need re-reintroductions, because no one mentioned their new role. I’m the leader, which makes sense. While I’m in the field, Myka Tennison will be running the facility. You probably won’t need to know that, but if we call in, it might be important. Leonard is my lieutenant out there. If I’m ever indisposed, or dead, you do what he says. Next in line is Agent Altimari. She’s the tactician. She has the heaviest background in hand-to-hand combat, and strategy. Hopefully we won’t need it, because a tactician is usually responsible for generating maneuvers for the whole team, but most of us aren’t properly trained in such tactics, and we certainly haven’t built a rapport. Obviously Sergeant Sachs is our sniper.
Hyram Sachs: Oh, that reminds me. Everyone just calls me Sachs. Especially here, I don’t think my army rank matters much.
Reese: All right, Sachs it is. Your spotter is Sasho Dreyer. Sasho, I’ve told you what that is, but for everyone else, a spotter usually works close with the sniper, and helps him find his targets. Of course, you don’t know how to do that, so for now, we’ll just kind of need you to be available to help the team in a more general sense. If you would like to continue in this role, you’ll need some of that specialized training that Sachs was talking about. For now, he was the only one who the boss felt was ready to go to field. Anyway, our engineer is Micro. She’ll handle the tech. Ophelia knows her way around a logic board too, so she’ll assist as the technician. Any questions so far?
Anaïs: Yeah. What exactly is this mission? What are we doing?
Reese: I meant about the team. We’re about to have the mission briefing, but I wanted to go over this first, so everybody understands the group dynamics. [...] Okay, then let’s go right on into it. We’ll be heading to Mississippi—
Group: *groans*
Leonard: Wait, what? What’s wrong with Mississippi?
Reese: I’ll explain later.

Wednesday, August 30, 2023

Microstory 1963: Activated

Generated by Google Workspace Labs text-to-image AI software
Reese: Myka, could you step into my office, please?
Myka: Yeah, I’ll be there in a second.
Reese: The Director wants to speak with all of us, so it’s gotta be right now.
Myka: Oh, right. Sorry. Stopping now.
Reese: *walks down the hall* Leonard, could you—
Leonard: I see her. Coming.
Reese: Oh, and grab one of your chairs. I only have three.
Leonard: Okay.
Reese: Madam Director, you can sit in my chair. It’s nicer than my guest chairs.
Director Washington: This one is fine, thank you.
Reese: All right. *sitting down*
Director Washington: As you’ll recall, yours was not the only team we sent to Wyoming to investigate the Ochivari intrusion. We dispatched a shadow team to follow you. In addition to this, you discovered friends and allies who followed you as well. They are now working in these offices in various capacities. What you may not remember is that there was yet another interested third party in the area. An extra set of footprints was spotted that could not be matched to the fifteen people and aliens we know to have been out there. Obviously, despite the fact that the aliens we have in custody do not seem to wear shoes, we were most worried that there was a fourth one running around out there somewhere. As it turns out, that may not be our greatest threat. To be honest, the aliens have been very well-behaved and cooperative. Don’t worry, that doesn’t mean we’re going to start trusting them, and release them into the wild, but they’re presently in pocket. The entity I’m here to talk with you about today...is not.
Reese: Entity?
Director Washington: Clarification: unknown subject. It has become evident, after the investigative team completed their...investigation, that we have some competition, folks. Ours is not the only agency that is aware of these aliens. We do not know who they are, or how much they know. It could be more, it could be less. It could be another department within our own government, or a foreign actor. We have yet to exorcize enough information from our prisoner.
Reese: You have someone in custody? How did you find them if we don’t know who they may or may not work for?
Director Washington: We found text messages between this individual, and someone else. It’s the scientist who helped us find the aliens in the first place. He first discovered the arrivals incidentally, and we thought that he was working for us, but apparently not.
Reese: Yes, I met him. He seemed a bit sketchy, but not a traitor. What do you want us to do? No one here is any better trained for interrogation than whoever is doing it now.
Director Washington: *shakes her head* That’s not what we need. His whereabouts at the time of the Wyoming trip have been confirmed. The mysterious footprints could not have possibly been his. We’re sending you to find his contact.
Reese: Why us? We’re neither trained, nor ready for this at all?
Director Washington: You and yours are the only people that I can trust right now.

Tuesday, July 18, 2023

Microstory 1932: Building Trust

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Freewoman: Hey, are you okay? You look upset.
Agent Parsons: I can’t talk about it.
Freewoman: You can tell me anything. That’s what the couple bond means.
Agent Parsons: We made a commitment to each other, yes, but you didn’t make a commitment to the U.S. government. That’s the issue. That means I can’t tell you everything, even if I wanted to.
Freewoman: Well, how about you talk in generalizations, so you’re not giving anything away about what you’re investigating, or whatever.
Agent Parsons: I dunno...
Freewoman: When I was seven years old, my grandmother died. I didn’t want to, but my mother made me go up to her casket, and give her my goodbyes. I tried to walk away, but she made me go back and give her a kiss on her forehead. “It’s tradition, Myka,” she said. I’ll always remember that nasally tone she took with me. “It’s tradition, Myka.” Fine, I thought to myself, I’ll lean over and give her a kiss, but I’m not leaving empty-handed. I swiped the gold locket they were trying to bury with her, and later sold it at a pawn shop. That was the first crime I ever committed. I’m a graverobber, Reese.
Reese Parsons: I appreciate you trusting me with this story, but why are you telling it?
Myka: Just building trust. Your turn.
Reese: *cracking a smile* Okay. I betrayed a friend at work. I could have helped him directly. I could have protected him from my bosses, but I chose to go about it in such a way as to protect myself, and it didn’t work. He...was reprimanded, even though he didn’t do anything wrong, and now they won’t even let me talk to him.
Myka: Reese, I know what you’re talking about. I’m the one who helped try to get the word back to the escapee.
Reese: Oh yeah, I forgot.
Myka: So, he never got the message? I didn’t hear how that all turned out.
Reese: No, he got the message; he just chose to ignore it.
Myka: So it wasn’t your fault.
Reese: I can’t help but wonder if he would have listened if I had talked to him myself. I could have answered questions, and pushed harder, because I’m the one who understands what’s at stake. Who knows what information was left over once Freeman 11 got his hands on it? Maybe he warned Leonard that a pack of rabid zebras were running through the streets, instead of the true message.
Myka: Well, where is he now? Again, you don’t have to be specific, just clarify what’s stopping you from talking to him now.
Reese: He’s in a jail they built in the basement. They said they were gonna let me see him. They said that I would be able to help, but I guess they changed their minds.
Myka: What would happen if you disobeyed orders? Would they fire you?
Reese: They would remove me from the special assignment, but they wouldn’t have the authority to terminate my position with Fugitive Services. However, if she were so motivated, the Director could make a call, and make it happen.
Myka: Then I guess you’re gonna have to be sneaky about it, won’t you?

Monday, June 26, 2023

Microstory 1916: Partners No More

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Fugitive Agent 2: Where have you been, man? We’re supposed to be partners.
Fugitive Agent: I’m on special assignment. I sent you a text, and the OSI should have sent Senior Fugitive Agent an email about it.
Fugitive Agent 2: Yeah, and she’s presently working on a replacement partner, but I wanted to speak with you in person. What is this assignment? What are you doing?
Fugitive Agent: I’m looking for the escapees.
Fugitive Agent 2: That’s what we were doing...together. Why am I being reassigned?
Fugitive Agent: I’m sorry, man. I gotta do this. I’m just here to pick up my stuff. The road is gonna be my office for the foreseeable future.
Fugitive Agent 2: You saw something.
Fugitive Agent: What?
Fugitive Agent 2: OSI asked for a meeting, and then suddenly we don’t work together anymore. What did they show you? What exactly are they asking you to do?
Fugitive Agent: I can’t talk about it, Fugitive Agent 2. I really am sorry. I gotta go.
Fugitive Agent 2: No, that’s not good enough for me.
Fugitive Agent: Let go of my arm.
Fugitive Agent 2: Hey, it’s cool. We’re cool. No need to give me that tone, or that look.
Fugitive Agent: What tone? What look?
Fugitive Agent 2: You’re treating me like one of our fugitives. You always say that there’s a line between us and them, and now it feels like you’ve drawn a new line, and left me on the wrong side of it.
Fugitive Agent: That was not my intention, I’m just trying to do my job.
Fugitive Agent 2: Your new job with OSI. I read the brief—or what was left of it after the redactors got their hands on it. The Fugitive Service has nothing to do with it anymore. When I said I was reassigned, I meant the whole department. Who are those detainees, and what makes them so important? This should be an open and shut case.
Fugitive Agent: I don’t know what to tell ya. That’s above my paygrade, same as you. I just go where I’m told, and right now, I’ve been told to go in deep.
Fugitive Agent 2: In deep? You’re undercover?
Fugitive Agent: I didn’t say that.
Fugitive Agent 2: But you are..undercover.
Fugitive Agent: You need to stop asking questions. I can’t protect you anymore.
Fugitive Agent 2: What the hell is that supposed to mean?
Fugitive Agent: You remember last fall; those kids from Baltimore?
Fugitive Agent 2: That wasn’t my fault. You didn’t lie for me. It was complicated.
Fugitive Agent: No, I didn’t lie, but I didn’t tell them the whole truth either. Now, I’m not threatening you. That goes to my grave, just like it was always going to. I’m just explaining that I can’t do those kinds of things for you anymore, and you can’t do them for me. You’re getting a new partner. Learn to trust them, and teach them to trust you. This is the nature of the business. We don’t always get to choose.
Fugitive Agent 2: Funny how you always seem to choose, and I always get screwed.
Fugitive Agent: Fugitive Agent 2. Fugitive Agent 2! Come on, don’t end it like this!

Wednesday, May 31, 2023

The Advancement of Mateo Matic: March 28, 2399

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Everyone tumbles out of the portal. They’re still in Madagascar, crowded in the hut, but it’s no longer only part of it. Every part of it is here and unbroken. Everyone seems to be pretty tired, but otherwise okay. “I left something by a particular tree,” Tarboda announces. “If it’s there, we’re still in the Facsimile.” He steps through the door, and disappears. He doesn’t just blink out of existence, though. The faint hologram of two parallel lines appears at his back, and fades away shortly after he does.
“I don’t think this is the Facsimile,” Leona looks around to make sure no one else steps out of the hut. “It’s the Parallel. Is this where Cheyenne wanted us to go?”
“I don’t care which reality it was, as long as it gets me away from you people.” Erlendr huffs, and steps through the door. Instead of parallel lines, his hologram is of four quadrants.
“Okay, we’re all going to different places, it looks like. No one leaves until we can figure this out,” Leona orders.
“Screw that, I’m outta here.” Fairpoint runs out of the door. Two parallel lines. He appears to have gone to the same world as Tarboda.
“I don’t think there’s anything we can do to stop this,” Aldona says. “I have to get back to work, so hopefully I’ve been assigned the Third Rail, and if not, I’ll make my way back. It’s what I do.” She leaves, ignoring Leona’s protests. She goes to the Fourth Quadrant, which is sad for her, but at least someone is there to keep Erlendr in line.
“Dad!” Bridget shouts, but Senator Morton is already too close to the edge. When she tries to pull him away, they both end up returning to the Third Rail. So that’s...good?”
“I’ll follow your lead, Leona,” her future grandfather, Labhrás promises.
Leona shakes her head. “She’s right, nothing can stop this. I’m feeling a pull to leave anyway, like being here is making me ill. Anyone else experiencing the same?”
There aren’t many of them left, but they all nod.
“Still,” Winona says, “on your orders.”
“Cross the threshold, soldier.”
Winona walks through, leaving behind a fading hologram for the Fifth Division.
Labhrás nods cordially, and leaves right after her, and ends up going to the main sequence, which may be the only one that makes sense since he’s supposed to go back in time and father Leona’s father.
Mateo frowns at his wife. “Winona’s alone.”
“I know.”
“So is Labhrás.”
“I’m not so worried about that.”
I’m just saying...”
“That either you and I are going to different places, or the math isn’t going to work out very well,” she figures.
He sighs, and holds out a hand. “Let’s try to stick together.”
She takes it. “Okay, we’ll try.”
They walk through the door side by side, staring into each other’s eyes. Leona’s hand slowly collapses into a sort of fist as her husband disappears. “Were I you,” she hears his voice call out to her from the aether. She echoes the words, but can’t know whether he got them.
She’s back in the white, where they were between leaving the Facsimile, and ending up back in that limbo hut. If this is what either the main sequence or Fifth Division look like right now, they could be in a lot of danger. That’s probably not it, though. Aldona was right. These are not random; they’re assignments, and Leona apparently doesn’t have one, which would have pissed her off if it had happened to her when she was in school. Another blur forms before her, and is taking a long time to solidify. It’s not Cheyenne this time, though. She looks a little bit like Alyssa. “Are you...Mrs. McIver?” Leona guesses.
She laughs, and holds out a hand for Leona to shake. “Ebora.” They  shake. “Trina Ebora.”
“Oh. All growed up. I kind of thought you led a normal life.”
“Pretty much, but I’m still a Keyholder, and I still have a destiny.”
“Are the keys...”
“A bloodline?” Trina assumes she was going to ask.
“Yeah.”
Leona starts listing them off. “So Iris is Summit’s mother, and Summit is....someone’s father.”
“Kyra Torosia,” Trina fills in.
“My husband went to a planet called Torosia once.”
Trina nods. “Named for her. It’s Durus. Well, it’s what Durus becomes. They put the past in the past, and start a new chapter, which is why it needed a new name.”
“I see.”
“Go on,” Trina encourages.
“So Kyra is—I’m guessing—secretly Vearden’s mother. Then Vearden is Cheyenne’s father, and Cheyenne is Cedar’s mother.”
“You got it.”
“So the Keyholders are you, your dad, whoever Vearden’s dad is, Arcadia, and Curtis,” Leona finishes.
“Perfect.”
“What do the Keys do?”
“The realities are collapsing, every single one of them. You have met, and will meet, those who claim that it’s inevitable, and they’re just helping it along, but they are the ones instigating it. The reason they don’t want to take the blame is because no one knows whose idea it was, but it doesn’t matter, because it’s happening, and in order to prevent quadrillions and quadrillions of people from dying, the Keys are going to transport everyone to a new universe.”
“The Sixth Key.”
“Right again.”
“What do you and the other Keyholders do?”
“The Keys need to welcome everyone in the Sixth Key. The Keyholders need to hold open the doors that will let everyone through.”
“And what is our purpose; me, my team, and...the others who aren’t on the team? It seems like they were split up across the realities too.”
Trina nods. “The Keyholders need protection while they’re fulfilling their destinies. Your friends and enemies are going to have to work together, but I believe they can do it. We couldn’t just choose any random ten people. They had to already have been involved in all this stuff. We don’t have time to explain that time travel exists, or that the Sixth Key does. You’ve all been hearing the rumors for a while now.”
“Where is Mateo?”
“Main sequence.”
“Who’s with Winona in the Fifth Division then?”
“You’re not gonna like it.”
“Who?”
“Someone you know who is from there.”
“Oh, that guy who tried to kill me. I still don’t know his name.”
“It doesn’t matter. He’ll do his job, or I’ll leave him in that reality, and close the door behind me and Winona.”
“That’s ten protectors for five Keyholders for five Keys in five realities. What am I meant to do?”
Trina reaches into her bag and retrieves a wrapped gift that fits in the palm of her hand. “You have the most important job of all.”
Leona accepts it, and starts to unravel the ribbon.
“You’re the Captain,” Trina finishes.
Leona opens the box. Inside is a metal plate. Engraved on it are the symbols for the six realities, and in the center is a tiny little wooden boat helm with six spokes. “Does it allow me to travel between them?”
“Yes, it will be your responsibility to make sure that everyone does what they must to make all of this happen. You can travel freely between realities, and you’ll at least have to do it once, because Vearden needs to get in place after his baby is born.”
“How does it work?” Leona asks. “Each of the spokes is pointing towards one of the realities.”
“See that red thing sticking out of the very center? Pull that off, and place it over one of the spokes. That will activate the device. You have five seconds to turn it to the reality you want to go to, and then five seconds to pull the tip back off once you arrive.”
“Or else what?”
“Or the device will deactivate permanently, and you’ll be stuck wherever you are.”
“How do I get back here?” Leona questions.
“You don’t,” Trina answers.
“Are there any limits, and are there any other rules?”
“You can take two people with you from one reality to another, just like regular teleportation mass restrictions. Don’t do this unless it’s necessary. You are not a ferry service. This is not meant for you to rescue people in trouble. It is not to be used for anything but official Key business.”
“No abuse of power. Got it. Anything else?”
“Yeah, take everything you know of your past and future, and throw it out the window. “Literally everything is in flux right now. You could hypothetically let everyone die in the collapsing realities, and it will not create a paradox. Your grandfather doesn’t have to survive, the Keys don’t have to survive. Success is not certain. We all have to put in the work. If we fail, you specifically will survive to remember what happened...alone in the infinite void. So don’t fuck this up.”

Thursday, April 7, 2022

Microstory 1859: Life Coach

When you were a kid, did anyone ask you what you wanted to be when you grew up? I’m sure at least one person did, it’s such a common question. This world is so obsessed with placing value on people based on what they do for work, how hard they work at it, and how far they go because of it. I never put much stock into this, to use a relevant metaphor. If the idea behind it is to make the money you need to live a happy life, then I get it, but work itself has no value. And what should it matter what your actual job is, as long as it’s positive, and you’re generally satisfied with your life—because, or in spite of, it? I was first asked this question when I was pretty young. Most of the kids answered with the usual suspects; astronaut, rockstar, professional athlete. A few others wanted to own their own businesses, but even those were predictable, like an ice cream shop, or a dance studio. I guess that second one’s pretty cool, and if I recall correctly, he actually went on to do that. Me, I had trouble giving my answer. Back then, the phrase life coach wasn’t a thing, so even if I had come up with the term myself, my teacher wouldn’t have been able to understand. It was my dream to help others realize their own dreams, in whatever form that might take. Fortunately, this wasn’t a graded assignment, for if it had been, I surely would have failed, because I just could not explain the idea. Of course now, it’s really easy. You may not garner anyone’s respect if you tell them that’s what you do, but at least they’ll grasp the concept. I’ll tell you, though, that I’m not one of those new age, meditate into the universe, and it will return what you want kind of people. I require my clients to have realistic and clearly defined goals in mind. I can’t promise fame and fortune, but I guarantee reasonable results.

Starting out was really tough, and I relied on my parents’ help to survive while I was getting off the ground. They were more supportive of me than they should have been, but also not blindly accepting. They helped me make it a reality by setting clear expectations for myself. People sometimes say that I was the first life coach, but my mom would have to assume that title, because she coached me on how to coach others. As I said, people back then didn’t know what I was selling, so word of mouth was the only way it got going. My first few clients were women who were looking for a nice man to marry. I didn’t explicitly spurn the idea of just being a matchmaker, but I didn’t want to let that become my whole business. I wanted a diversity of clients. Then I met a guy who changed everything. All he wanted to do was be better at communicating with people. I imagine he would have been diagnosed with a social disorder had he been born later in the timeline. He found it quite difficult to socialize with other people, and to sit for job interviews. He needed to learn basic skills that other people take for granted, and that was perfect, because I had no trouble with those, and I knew I could teach him. He ended up being so good at these things—because he really just needed to slip out of his shell—that he created more and more business for me. I shed my potentially dangerous identity as a matchmaker, and started pulling in all sorts of clients. One of them wanted help finding a trustworthy math tutor for her son. Another needed to raise funds for a guitar, so he could learn to play. I did a lot with education. Back then, you couldn’t just search the internet for a teacher. There’s no end to this story; this is just what I did with my life, and I can go to the big sleep now, fulfilled and grateful to the world.

Sunday, December 27, 2020

The Advancement of Mateo Matic: Wednesday, July 20, 2135

The other eight Cassidy cuffs were waiting for Mateo and Leona when they returned to the timeline on July 20, 2135. They were on Earth, having taken up residence in what The Parallel natives referred to as a mobile home. They didn’t have the normal kind of mobile homes from the main sequence. Poverty did not exist in this reality, but efficient living did. Their mobile home was small, but highly advanced, and equipped with everything they needed to live happily and comfortably. It was a cylinder about five meters wide, and seven meters tall, which was just small enough to fit inside a standard Nexus. Unlike the Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez, the mobile home had eight beds, but they were each smaller, and they were up against the circular wall, so it was impractical and uncomfortable for Mateo and Leona to share. Still, they were grateful to the natives for giving it to them, and it was more than they expected.
Like last year, there was a message waiting for them on their Cassidy cuffs. It was a hologram of Nerakali. “Surprisingly, I was given the opportunity to meet with the version of Jupiter Fury who picked you for his mission. He didn’t die so much as he retired. Apparently, he has other things to do with his life, and he’s pleased with his replacement. He’s talking about me. Someone is actually happy that I’m involved. Who would have thought I would end up like this? A seer I encountered once, that’s who. I didn’t believe her at the time. Anyway, I’ve been curating the list of transitionees, using what he had in there before, adding who I felt was necessary, and accounting for changes to the main sequence timeline. I left you the extra cuffs in case you ever need them. If anyone needs to make a time jump with you, they won’t be able to do it with the AOC. It’s on its way, but it won’t be here for another couple decades. The reason Jupiter always had each member of the team wear two cuffs was because that allowed them to be locked. You couldn’t take them off, or control all of their functions. That’s no longer necessary, so use the extras at your leisure.
The next transition window will be happening today, but there’s no specific time for it. Just get to the ingress point whenever you feel like it, and greet them. You will be pleased with who I’ve chosen, I’m sure of it. You can give all of them cuffs, or part of them, or just one of them, or even none. I’ll let you decide that amongst yourselves. This new team can be as permanent or as ephemeral as you would like. If you later choose to disband the team altogether, that’s okay. No one’s forcing you to do this anymore. If you do select others for the team, you’ll be able to share time powers, but like I was saying, you can remove the cuffs whenever you want without permission, or a special tool. All right, that’s all I got for ya. Be careful.
“Who do you think she has in mind for the new team?” Leona asked.
“I think it will be less new than she made it sound.”
“You think we’re getting our dead friends back? That seemed like an insurmountable obstacle. Jupiter was the one who took over that mission, and it’s probably the reason why he retired.” She used airquotes. “Something happened that we don’t know about. I can’t imagine it turned out well.”
“Let’s just go see. There’s no time limit, but I’m too excited to wait.”
Leona linked one of the cuffs with the mobile home, and let the teleporter spirit them away to the location of the next transition window, at a lovely waterfall. The cuffs beeped upon their arrival, and opened the window. Mateo turned out to have been right. Jeremy, Sanaa, and Angela spilled out of it, along with another young woman they didn’t know. After some hugs and tearful greetings, they explained how they had gotten out of Tamerlane Pryce’s afterlife simulation. Evidently, Jupiter’s rescue team never truly succeeded in their mission. Pryce was too powerful, and too well-protected. They did, however, manage to give him so big of a headache that he finally just gave in, and released all their friends. They were resurrected at the end of last year, and while some parted ways, the three of them had been waiting here for Leona and Mateo’s return. The whole time during the story, Mateo assumed this other woman was another dead person who just got caught up in all this. When he asked for an introduction, they balked.
“Who are you talking about?” Jeremy asked.
“This woman right here,” Mateo said, pointing to the stranger.
“Oh, they can’t see me,” the stranger explained.
“You’re invisible?” Mateo questioned.
“Who’s invisible?” Sanaa asked
“Actually, she’s a telepath,” the stranger said. “She can kind of communicate with me, as long as someone else helps her through it.”
“What is going on?” Mateo pressed.
“Honey, we don’t know what’s happening,” Leona tried to comfort him. “Are you seeing things?”
“Just separate yourself from the group, so we can talk,” the woman began. “It’ll make it a lot easier.”
“Yes, I’m seeing things. I have to be alone for a minute.” He walked off with the woman, but kept his eye on the people behind him. They watched him go for a moment, and then went back to their conversation, apparently no longer concerned that Mateo was going crazy.
She sighed. “My name is Aeolia Sarai. I suffer from a time condition. I’m not invisible. It’s just that time makes people forget about me so quickly that they don’t even remember they’re looking at me right now.”
Mateo looked to the ground as the recalled something from the past. “Retgone coins.”
“That’s right!” Aeolia exclaimed. “The retgone coins and I were created at the same time. I was taking them to the bank when a portal opened up, and made all this happen. It was just a freak accident.”
“Why can I remember you, and no one else does.”
She shook her head. “I’ve only met two other people who could fully remember me. One of them was already exactly like me, and the other quickly became like me too. But he could see me before that, because his time power is that he remembers things others don’t.”
“Oh,” Mateo said. He looked down at his Cassidy cuff. “My friend, Nerakali. She can also manipulate memories. I’m channeling her power right now. My wife can do that too, but it probably doesn’t occur to her as easily.”
“So this Nerakali would be able to see me?” Aeolia asked.
“I imagine, yeah. Tertius Valerius should as well.”
“Wow. Four new people, just like that. You have no idea what it’s like, only having Kallias to speak to.”
“Oh, Kallias Bran?” Now it made sense. Multiple times now, Mateo had brought up Kallias Bran, and no one seemed to know who that was, even when they should. The coin erased his past and future. “Yeah, he had that memory thing, I remember that.”
“Oh, this is so exciting. Can I meet your friends? I mean the other memory people?”
Mateo considered it for a moment. “That shouldn’t be necessary. I don’t know where Tertius is, I’ve never actually met him. But Nerakali is wearing the primary cuff, which means anyone else wearing a cuff can share her power, including those people you came through the transition window with. We have extras, and if they agree to join our team, you should be able to talk to them. Hell, we may not even need Nerakali if you yourself wears one of the cuffs.”
“Could we try that?” Aeolia looked like a newborn baby, who could already speak English, but had no other life experiences yet.
Mateo reached into his back pocket, where he happened to be storing one of the cuffs. He pulled it out triumphantly. “Boom!”
She smiled, and presented him with her wrist. He carefully placed it on her, and looked over to the rest of their friends. Leona was chatting inaudibly when she suddenly perked up, and looked over to Mateo and Aeolia.
She hustled over there. “I remember you. Why are we the only ones?”
Aeolia started to go over her story again when Mateo stopped her. “You’re just going to have to say it all again. Let’s get a cuff on everybody, and then you only have to do this once.”
“They may not want the cuffs,” Leona warned him. This was true. The group was all back together. It wasn’t the team they started with, but everyone here belonged. Mateo and Leona did not yet know, however, whether the others would want to continue Jupiter’s mission. They had a choice now where they didn’t before.
“Then they’ll be able to take them off later. Let us make introductions, and then we’ll give them the option to stick around.”
Leona ran off to retrieve the rest of the cuffs from the mobile home while Mateo escorted Aeolia back to the group.
“You’re having some kind of psychic conversation with someone,” Sanaa accused him. “I can feel it, but I can’t hear it.”
“You will, as soon as you rejoin the circle of trust.” Mateo stuck his fist into the center of the circle, like a sportsball player waiting to recite a huddle chant with his teammates.
“I don’t know that I want that,” Sanaa said, actually a little frightened of being judged for her decision.
“No one will force you to stay,” he assured her. “Put it on now, and you’ll see who I’m in communication with. If you don’t want to make the time jumps with us, you won’t have to. It’s not like it was before.”
When Leona came back, they each grabbed a cuff from the bin, and put them on their wrists. Even Angela didn’t hesitate, even though she had never been part of this before.
“Oh, weird,” Jeremy mused. “I can feel myself getting my memory back.”
“It usually hurts,” Sanaa’s alter ego, Debbie Downer complained. Apparently she had had her brain blended at some point.
Now Aeolia was able to explain where she had come from, and how she had lost her memories, giving more detailed information this time than she had with Mateo. She was actually from an alternate version of the Parallel, one which was not all that different than the main sequence. She met Bran and his friends, and though he was the only one who could remember her, there was a bit of a very dangerous loophole. She could control people. All she had to do was tell them to do something, and they would, without having any clue as to why. It was like the angel or devil on someone’s shoulder, whispering commands to them. Aeolia admitted to using it once or twice, but only ever to help people.
“Where’s Bran now?” Leona asked her.
“He stayed in the main sequence,” Aeolia explained. “We flipped a coin—a regular coin—and he lost, so I risked my life tagging along with you guys while he stayed behind, so we wouldn’t both be killed.”
“Well, no one’s getting killed,” Jeremy promised her. “We just need to discuss how we’re going to proceed. I, for one, am excited to get back to my life. I missed being on the mission while I was dead. Aeolia, I welcome you to stay with us, and invite your friend to come too, if there’s any way to get him here.”
“I can send a message to Nerakali,” Leona told him. She looked to Aeolia. “It’s up to you. I suppose you could stick with us just to have someone to hang out with, but you’re not obligated to help with the work.”
“No, I’ll help—we’ll help. We’ve been looking for purpose. We’ve helped out a few times here and there, but this will be a nice change of pace.”
“Sanaa?” Mateo prompted.
She took her sweet-ass time responding. “Ugh, Fine! If you really need me, how can I rightfully withhold my splendor from you?”
“It really is your choice,” Leona promised. “We won’t judge if you wanna leave.”
“Eh, my grandmother is still working as The Caster in this time period. I don’t want to interfere with her reign. And I don’t really care for this reality, so I might as well just do this.”
Now they all looked at Angela. “I don’t have anywhere else to go. I was dead for a hell of a lot longer than I was alive. I’ll stick around as well...for now. You did break me out of prison.”
“That came with no conditions,” Leona said.
Jeremy nodded in agreeance.
“I know,” Angela said. “I want to stay.”
“Cool, then it’s decided,” Mateo said. He checked his cuff. “We don’t have any more assignments today, so let’s get everybody settled into our new home. It’s not a spaceship, but it can survive in the vacuum. It can also teleport, and even drive on a road, if need be.”
“Great.” Sanaa took off towards the mobile home. “It better be able to play RPS-101 Plus.”
Mateo and Leona gave each other a knowing look. “Oh. It can.”

Monday, October 12, 2020

Microstory 1471: Salmon Battalion

In an alternate timeline, the paramounts on Durus started a war with the regular humans. Most of them didn’t actually believe that those with time powers were superior to those without, but they were tired of the Provisional Government, and they wanted to see real change in their world. They figured creating a common enemy for the native Durune, and the Earthan refugees, to fight would unify them. Well, that part of the plan worked, but the part where they would arbitrarily end the war, and try to form a peaceful union for all, was lost. Some of the paramounts decided they were happy with this new direction. Yeah, people with powers were better, and they ought to be ruling the planet. As one might imagine, this caused a lot of problems, and the sort of fake war transformed into a real one, with plenty of empowered people on both sides. This meant that it would probably end in the total destruction of humanity on the rogue world. Worried this would happen, and not wanting the fighting to continue either way, a time traveling paramount went back to the Deathspring in 2161, and purposefully made sure that he was sent to Earth. Once there, he contacted someone named The Overseer, who was the go-to leader for any major endeavor that involved salmon and choosing ones working together. Salmon were a subspecies of humans who experienced nonlinear time, but lived under the control of a mysterious group called the powers that be, while choosers were people with powers, who could choose to use them at will. They were the Earthan equivalent of paramounts, and they had a pretty reliable network, which could make things happen. One of these groups was called the salmon battalion. It consisted of a few hundred people from all over time and space. They fought in various wars throughout the timeline, turning the tide to their leaders’ will, which was generally to ultimately create peace. Some members fought only in one battle, while others were more long-term participants, and these people cycled in and out of the battalion as necessary. The Overseer was not in charge of the battalion, but she could petition for aid if she felt it was warranted, and the powers that be were obliged to at least consider the request. Though Durus was beyond their scope, they agreed to come set things right. The highest number of simultaneous battalion members transported to Durus, and created a new timeline, which wiped away the formation of the New Crusades. They took control of the government, just for the time being, and started the Salmon Battalion Military State.

Now, this was a scary thing to call it, and though they kept the peace through peaceful means, the battalion did use that fear to keep people in line. They didn’t tolerate violence, or bigotry, or the infringement of people’s rights. They let protestors speak their peace, but most people eventually became glad that the battalion was here. They brought with them people who were experienced with democratic procedures, and though these experts didn’t dictate how the new republic would be set up, they did provide them with a lot of great advice. They helped them figure out what the Durune leaders would be called, and what responsibilities they would have. They helped build the capitol, so the new government would have a place to work out of. They helped set up the 2168 Special Election, so the first administration could star making decisions on their own. And finally, they helped them draft the Constitution, so that everyone would understand what the laws were, and what was expected of them as citizens. To that end, they wanted to ensure that every single person on the planet was considered a full citizen, whether they descended from Earthans who came in 2016, or if they just had arrived in 2161. Everyone, regardless of gender, sexual orientation, race, color, religion, disability, age, or temporal status would be treated as an equal, and enjoy the same rights as everyone else. As far as what the paramounts were allowed to do with their time powers, the battalion left that up to the administration, and the people of Durus. Immediately following the special election, which established the leadership until at least 2175, nearly all members of the salmon battalion left Durus, and returned to their respective time periods on Earth, or on to the next mission. Only a few key officers remained behind to tie up loose ends, and answer any lingering questions. In the end, the people were grateful to the battalion for them having been there.

Tuesday, August 18, 2020

Microstory 1432: Astau

The third vicennial Mage Games were a huge hit. The population of Durus, across the seven towns, was booming. The number of people applying to become town mages was unprecedented. The number of mages needed to protect the towns was lower than expected. The number of people who performed excellently was incredibly impressive. The inception of the fourth town, Hardtland showed that a pattern had formed. The number of towns was rising proportionately to the growth of the population. People were moving out to new places, and over the next twenty years, it was becoming clear that the ability to do this was an expectation. In 2070, the only ones applying for mage selection were those born on Durus. They had never known what it was like to live on Earth, besides the stories their parents and grandparents told them. They fully understood why it was so important that the competition happened, and that the people who were selected knew what they were doing. So they trained. And they trained, and they trained. They prepared their whole lives for the chance to prove that they had what it took to be part of security. Some just wanted cool powers, but it was easy to weed them out, because they lacked true heart, and the dedication that was required to succeed in the contest. Still, there were more winners than there needed to be to serve the towns. Both Hidden Depths and Distante Remoto required fewer mages, because of their strategic locations. Engineers had made the technological solutions surrounding Springfield stronger, and more reliable over the years, even after their original inventor left the planet, so they didn’t need a whole team either. The source mages could not decide who they would select out of all the people who deserved it. They didn’t just want to raise their standards higher; they wanted to reward the people who had dedicated themselves to the cause. So they did something new. They built an entire town in a day, and nearly everyone in it would be a mage. There were a few families, but for the most part, the ones who moved there were single, and ready to go out into the world without their parents’ oversight. They called it Astau. This was based on the root for eight, because it was the eighth town on Durus. They weren’t going for originality here.

It was really important to the founders that this mage town not be seen as elitist, or separatist, but there was always tension. They tried to alleviate these problems before they began by situating the construction site as equidistant from the other towns as possible. Of course, Distante Remoto was farther away than anything, but they found a pretty good spot to be in the middle of everything else. They encouraged people to visit, and their residents to travel to other places, but the friction remained. Things weren’t any better within Astau’s borders. Everyone there thought they were too good for menial jobs, so no one wanted to work in the fields, or on the repair detail. They wanted to use their time powers, and sometimes, they weren’t necessary. They didn’t really feel the need to keep any border security, because when a monster came by, there would always be someone around with the necessary skills to get rid of it. So there was no one working, and no one in the other towns who liked them. They weren’t real mages, because they weren’t protecting people who needed it. They were just there, hanging out by themselves, not contributing to the community, or even being capable of supporting themselves. It was the first major failure since the Mage Protectorate rose to power, and an embarrassment for all involved. In less than a year, many of the residents moved back to the towns they had come from, or requested assignments elsewhere. Some stayed, formed the usual border patrol, and allowed regular people to come in. It became just like any town. In fact, it was probably considered to be the most normal out of all of them. It wasn’t original, like Springfield; tech-based like Splitsville; well-irrigated, like Parade; forested, like Hardtland; militaristic, like Fort Frontline; concealed, like Hidden Depths; or far away, like Distante Remoto. It was just a town in the middle of Durus, with regular people, who were trying their best to live their lives. Perhaps that was what made it special. On Earth, most towns didn’t have some kind of niche, or defining characteristic. They were just places that people lived, instead of living somewhere else. And that was completely okay.

Wednesday, August 12, 2020

Microstory 1428: Waterloo

A great many people turned out to compete in the second vicennial Mage Selection Games. There were now four separate towns on Durus, with a fifth one in the middle of being built, and a sixth one in its planning stages. Knowing that these, as well as two more, would require mages to protect them by the time the next competition could backfill their ranks, the source mages selected a great many winners. Each town was thusly being protected by about fifty per cent more than they figured they needed, with further excess being sent off on other missions, like dam repair, and exploration. Most of the new mages wanted to be assigned to one of these other things, because it gave them a chance to get out, and look around. People otherwise didn’t generally go anywhere. They didn’t even travel to each other’s towns all that often. Being a mage, in some ways, meant more freedom and agency. Rumat Dunn was particularly disappointed when he was sent off to work in Splitsville. There was nothing wrong with this town, but it was the least coveted role, because it still maintained a lot of its border protection through the use of technology. The mages stationed there knew there wasn’t much work to do. Many were perfectly happy with that, being the backup force in the event the power grid suffered some kind of failure. Still, there were not enough of these volunteers, so some just had to accept their positions. It wasn’t like they would be stuck there for the entirety of their twenty-year contract. Transfers happened all the time; they just weren’t known to happen at a town mage’s request. It was something the source mages, and their advisors, decided, using whatever protocols they had in place. It was all a delicate balance that involved placing people where their work would do the most good for the community. For instance, temporal anomaly detectors—which were capable of sensing when a time monster was near—were great for any town to have, but no town really benefited from having more than one. So if there were only four of those, they would necessarily be placed separately. A new town mage spent two months in extremely intense training after being sourced, during which time their powers, their skills to use those powers, and their other talents, would be assessed. So when the source mages told Rumat that he belonged in Splitsville, that meant he belonged in Splitsville. Unfortunately, Rumat never accepted where he was assigned, and spent a lot of his time trying to prove that he was worthy to be transferred somewhere else. He was specifically interested in helping construct the as of yet unnamed fifth town, which was being built by a single construction crew, in realtime. It was located nearest to the broken portal that was sending the time monsters to their world, so Town Five was notably more dangerous than the other four, and required some pretty powerful mages to protect it. Rumat was good, but he wasn’t the best, and either way, Splitsville needed him, and in the future, others would too.

He had the power to open what came to be known as filter portals. No object of significant size would be able to pass through, so it wasn’t like normal teleportation. The best application of this ability was irrigation. He could instantly transport fluid from anywhere on the planet, to anywhere else. For now, Splitsville was located the farthest from Watershed, so it benefited most from this power, but the people in charge of planning Town Six were interested in choosing a site that was even farther away. Rumat didn’t care about any of this, and didn’t have the patience for delayed gratification. He thought he could use these powers to attack the monsters, if the authorities simply gave him the opportunity. They wouldn’t, so he grew angry, and lashed out. He flooded Splitsville from within by portaling massive amounts of water into its borders. They wanted him to irrigate, so he was gonna irrigate, and they weren’t going to be able to stop him. Well, they did stop him, and he didn’t like the way they did it. Now that he was contained, however, there was a problem. They didn’t have any clue what they were going to do with him. The source mages had never come to a decision of what to do about someone with powers who caused problems such as this. They had a jail, and forced labor, but neither of these things would be able to keep Rumat down. Some suggested exile, but that wouldn’t work either. Durus was a very, very small planet. It might even have actually once been a moon. The only reason the surface gravity was comparable to Earth was because it was so dense. There were no oceans or islands, so there really wasn’t anywhere to exile anybody. They might have made him go to the broken portal, but that would be a death sentence, and capital punishment hadn’t been legal here since the Smithtatorship. The source mages only had one option, and they were saving it for such an occasion, because they didn’t want people to know they were capable of it until they had no choice. They stripped Rumat of his powers completely, which few people were aware was possible. This changed everything about the Mage Protectorate, and how people viewed the sources. The good news was that their plan worked, and Rumat would go down in history as the first and last criminal mage ever.

Monday, June 22, 2020

Microstory 1391: Poison

Fiore Stern: Good afternoon. I’m looking for books about poisonous plants, particularly those with flowers.
College Librarian: Okay. Well, all the books about plants are in the 580s. Why don’t you follow me into the stacks?
Fiore Stern: Okay, thanks.
College Librarian: I might be able to narrow it down further. What is the assignment asking you to do?
Fiore Stern: It’s not for an assignment. I’m just learning about them on my own.
College Librarian: Oh, all right. Let me see. Yes, 582 is all about flowering plants. I’m not sure there’s a section about toxic plants, though. I would say 581 is your best bet, though. Those books get really specific about plant life topics. Oh, here we go. Here’s one that looks promising. This one might be of use to you as well. I also recommend something like this. It appears to contain a lot of beginner’s information, so you know where to start with your research. Let’s see, this one is about hiking, and what to do if you come across poison ivy, or something.
Fiore Stern: Nah, I don’t really need that. I’m more interested in plants that can be turned into teas, or something.
College Librarian: I thought you needed to know about poisonous plants.
Fiore Stern: Yes.
College Librarian: Mister...
Fiore Stern: Stern.
College Librarian: Mr. Stern, are you looking to do something bad or violent with this knowledge?
Fiore Stern: Of course not, that would be ridiculous. Besides, how could anything I learn in the library be bad?
College Librarian: Actually, lots of information in these books can be used for malicious purposes. Why, even a sports book that teaches you how to swing a bat at a ball could theoretically also teach you to swing it at someone’s head.
Fiore Stern: What are ya gonna do, call the cops, or something?
College Librarian: If you tell me you’re planning to use these books to hurt someone, in any way, then I have to do what I can to help you channel your emotions into something positive. Is there someone who’s angered you? Are you having unwanted feelings?
Fiore Stern: I wouldn’t call any of my feelings unwanted.
College Librarian: Well, the psychology books are all in the 150s, and that’s as far as someone in my profession is going to be able to go for you. If you think you need some real help, might I suggest the mental health floor in the university clinic? I can walk you down there, if you would like.
Fiore Stern: I don’t need any help, I’m fine. You’re blowing this way out of proportion. I just wanted to study hemlock, and all the ways people have died in history. Like, I wanna know how we found out they were poisonous? I mean, nobody had a bunch of science equipment hundreds of years ago, or whenever it was, yet we figured out it should be called poison sumac. Well, how did that happen? Who got hurt figuring that out? Who had to die first?
College Librarian: So, your interest is purely academic?
Fiore Stern: Absolutely.
College Librarian: Okay. In that case, this book here is about botanical history. I’m no expert in the field, so I can’t tell you if it’s going to give you exactly what you’re looking for, but you should be fine if you take this whole stack.
Fiore Stern: I really appreciate it, thanks.
College Librarian: You’re welcome.

Wednesday, June 17, 2020

Microstory 1388: Bullies

School Counselor: Middle Schooler 1, do you have any idea why you two were brought in to see me today?
Middle Schooler 1: Because he’s bullying me.
School Counselor: No, because you’re bullying him.
Middle Schooler 1: He started it!
Middle Schooler 2: No, I didn’t!
School Counselor: What did Middle Schooler 2 do to you, Middle Schooler 1?
Middle Schooler 1: He stabbed me with a candy cane.
School Counselor: He what?
Middle Schooler 2: Oh, it wasn’t that big of a deal.
Middle Schooler 1: He sucked on it until one end was sharp, and then he stabbed me in the arm.
School Counselor: Is this true, Middle Schooler 2?
Middle Schooler 2: Wull...I guess.
School Counselor: Middle Schooler 1, why didn’t you report him to the principal?
Middle Schooler 1: Because I’m not a whiny little baby like him!
School Counselor: Now, you know we don’t call people names at this institution.
Middle Schooler 1: Whatever.
School Counselor: Did he break the skin? Do you need to go to the nurse?
Middle Schooler 1: No, I’m fine. But that doesn’t mean it’s okay.
School Counselor: Of course it’s not. Middle Schooler 2? You know what you have to do.
Middle Schooler 2: I’m sorry, Middle Schooler 1. Ugh.
School Counselor: That didn’t sound like a very sincere apology.
Middle Schooler 2: Well, he hasn’t apologized to me either!
School Counselor: That’s true. Why don’t you two apologize to each other at the exact same time. Okay? One...two...three.
Middle Schooler 1 and Middle Schooler 2: I’m sorry.
School Counselor: That was very good. Now. Let’s talk about why you two are so upset with each other.
Middle Schooler 2: He cheated off me on our homework. I know I shouldn’t have stabbed him, but it was annoying.
Middle Schooler 1: I wasn’t cheating. We were doing homework together.
Middle Schooler 2: Yes, but you weren’t supposed to just copy what I wrote. You were supposed to come up with the answers yourself.
Middle Schooler 1: No, we were working together.
Middle Schooler 2: You said you wanted to work together, but then you just had me do it myself, and copy it later. I didn’t even realize I did all the work until it was all finished. You tricked me.
Middle Schooler 1: I didn’t trick you. You’re smarter, so you finished it faster.
Middle Schooler 2: Don’t try to say nice things to me to get out of being in trouble. He’s still in trouble, right?
School Counselor: Neither of you is in trouble. You’re here to work this out, and I think you two are doing a pretty good job on your own, so I’m going to sit here with a game of sudoku, and let you keep going. I don’t want you to stop talking until you’re friends again, okay?
Middle Schooler 1 and Middle Schooler 2: Okay.