Microstory 1962: Arrival

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OSI Director Lotte Washington: Hello, I’m OSI Director—

Henley: Lotte Washington. You’re early. Agent Flynn was meant to escort you from the parking garage.

Director Washington: Yes, my schedule changed. I have too much to do this afternoon, so I decided to come before lunch. I hope that’s okay.

Henley: That’s quite all right. My name is Henley Grahame; receptionist. We would normally print out a badge for you, but we don’t have a machine yet. I have created this check-in list, though, so we’ll be able to keep track of who comes in and out. I don’t want you to worry about our security.

Director Washington: It’s fine. Just point me in the direction of Agent Parsons. We have some urgent business to take care of.

Henley: Yes, of course. Right away. Uhh... *fumbling with the phone* No, that’s not it. Let’s see...page, zero—no, wait. First it’s star, then page.

Director Washington: You don’t have to make an announcement. I’ve taken a cursory glance at the floor plans. I’ll just go up to his office.

Henley: No, wait. That’s not part of our procedures. I swear we’ve come up with them, I just need to find the binder I’ve started. Anaïs! Your name is Anaïs, right?

Anaïs Altimari: *sees Director Washington* Oh, it’s Agent Altimari, Miss Grahame.

Henley: Right. Of course. Would you please take the Director to Agent Parsons’ office?

Anaïs: Certainly. Right this way, sir.

Director Washington: I really can find him myself. But very well, lead the way.

Anaïs: *runs into Timotei* Oh, pardon. Mr. Barber, this is OSI Director Washington.

Timotei: *shaking her hand* Nice to meet you. Timotei Barber, formerly incarcerated, now Head of Procurement. Let me know if you need anything.

Anaïs: *scowling at him* Thank you. You can get back to work now.

Timotei: I’m on lunch. I just can’t take it in the break room, because Navin is sleeping in the other room, and I like to watch my stories while I eat my beans.

Anaïs: *horrified* Oh, he—

Director Washington: ...has anemia. Yes, I’m aware. It’s quite all right. I just need to speak with Agent Parsons. It’s becoming rather urgent.

Timotei: Aren’t you here to take a look at the building? I could show you around. There’s a stall in the restroom that doesn’t quite close.

Anaïs: That’s not why she’s here, Mr. Barber. We’re looking for Parsons.

Timotei: Perfect! I just saw him in the bathroom.

Reese: I’m here, I’m here! Director Washington, welcome to the Department for Exogenic Affairs Headquarters. I trust that everything has gone okay so far?

Director Washington: It’s been fine. You appear to have a good team. You’ll need that soon. Is there somewhere you and I can talk, with Miss Tennison and Mr. Miazga?

Reese: Yes, of course. Please follow me to my office. Thank you Agent Altimari, and Mr. Barber. You can get back to work.

Timotei: I’m on lunch!

Reese: *dismissively* Okay, bye!

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 1914: The Bond

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Parole Counselor: Come on in, Officer. I don’t know how much I can help you, though. All of my people are accounted for. I never worked with any of the men who escaped from jail the other day.

Fugitive Agent: It’s Agent, and I’m not looking for information on your people. I’m hoping that one of them can help me find where the escapees are now.

Parole Counselor: What you’re talking about is a snitch. We don’t...encourage such behavior here. It tends to get the snitch killed.

Fugitive Agent: I understand that, and I want you—and your parolees—to know that I’m not looking for the escapees because I wanna lock them back up. Three of them are nonviolent, and honestly, I feel for the violent one. It’s only the fifth one that I’m interested in. I’m willing to listen to him, whereas other members of law enforcement were not. He may be able to help us with a global existential threat.

Parole Counselor: We don’t call them parolees in this context. They’re freemen.

Fugitive Agent: I’ll remember that. Do you think they would be willing to help? Is there any way I could guarantee that I won’t arrest anyone in this matter?

Parole Counselor: A way to guarantee it? From their perspective?

Fugitive Agent: What is it? Why are you laughing?

Parole Counselor: Well, there’s a way to do it, but you may not like the consequences.

Fugitive Agent: What? Am I gonna have to prove myself by committing a crime with them, or something?

Parole Counselor: No. In fact, one of the rules is that they’re not allowed to ask you to help commit a crime. And that’s not just because you’re a lawman. It’s our rule.

Fugitive Agent: Well, then what does this entail?

Parole Counselor: It involves a ceremony. There will be blood. What it will do is bond you to them for life. The counselor who trained me came up with it, and it’s been proven to work. You basically commit your loyalty to them. You agree to leave your old life behind, and start a new one with the group, and adhere to our ideals. Once you do that, they’ll help you with whatever you need, within reason, but you’ll be obligated to do the same. I can’t promise they’ll go for it. I’m the only bonded member who’s never been arrested before. They’re understandably wary of people like you. There’s a reason we don’t operate out of the law station with the other departments in this ambit.

Fugitive Agent: If you convince them to let me in, I’ll do whatever it takes to stay in, even after this case is over, and I return to the central office. But I do want to make sure they won’t ask me to help them get their records expunged, or any other abuse of my power. I still have to maintain my commitment to the badge.

Parole Counselor: They won’t ask you anything like that. Leaving their old lives behind doesn’t mean they forget them. It’s important that they recognize where they come from, and how much they’ve accomplished since. Besides, they would see it as an abuse of power just as much as you. It’s enough to get them kicked out of the bond.

Fugitive Agent: All right. Tell me what I have to do.

Parole Counselor: You’ll have to wait here while I confer with them. Like I said, they may not even consider letting you in. I cannot compel them. I’m not their leader.

Microstory 1910: Detained

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Street Proctor: Here you are, boys, fresh meat! And look, he’s a cop! Have fun!

Detainee 1: Is that true? Were you a cop?

Leonard: I was—I am—a parole officer. It was my job to keep guys like you out of jail after you left. I’m trying to get back to that life.

Detainee 1: I see. *stands up*

Leonard: Look, I’m not here to fight.

Detainee 1: Me neither. My parole officer kept me out for ten years before she was murdered. I’m in here because I found the dirty cop who did her in, and put him in the ground. I just wanna shake your hand.

Detainee 2: Heh. They probably thought that we would kill you for wearing that badge.

Detainee 3: They’re proctors. Proctors are morons. All they do is observe and report.

Leonard: Observe and report? He arrested me when I told him that I was homeless.

Detainee 2: Yeah, he’s technically not allowed to do that.

Detainee 1: Cops are cops. Since when do they care what the law says? Present company excluded, of course.

Leonard: I’ve barely been here an hour, and I already don’t understand this world.

Detainee 2: What’s to understand? Everyone’s corrupt. That’s all you need to know.

Leonard: *whispering to himself* I gotta get outta here.

Detainee 3: I’m in.

Leonard: Huh? I don’t mean out of jail. I can’t break any more laws. I just mean this area. I’m far from home, and I want to get back to my family.

Detainee 1: It’s not illegal to break out of jail.

Leonard: It’s not? These laws really are weird.

Detainee 1: The only catch is if you get caught, you’ll go back to jail to await trial, and they will probably use your attempted escape against you. Though it will not technically be a charge, the judge will rule based on his personal feelings on the matter. Obviously most of them frown upon it, so if we’re doing this, let’s not get caught.

Detainee 3: Oh, but if you physically harm someone in the process, that can be an added charge. The good news is, as you’ve already seen, the police at this particular station are incredibly incompetent...easily embarrassed. We should be able to slip past.

Detainee 2: Yeah, and they won’t want to open an investigation, or initiate a pursuit, because that makes them look bad. They’re liable to wipe us from the system, and hope that no one else finds out.

Detainee 3: Plus his badge.

Detainee 2: Oh yeah, you have that badge. I don’t recognize it, but if you’re clever, they won’t notice. We’ll just wanna wait until a shift change, so no one will recognize you.

Detainee 1: So how about it, paroler? You wanna break out of here?

Detainee 4: I got somethin’ to say.

Detainee 3: Detainee 4, you’re awake.

Detainee 4: I heard every word, and I have one question. What do we do about him?

Jail Guard: I hate proctors too. Anyway, I need some more coffee. Don’t you go breakin’ out while I’m gone, ya hear? It’ll probably take me about an hour.

Microstory 1909: An Officer Arrested

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Senior Proctor: Street Proctor, why did you arrest that man in there?

Street Proctor: He told me that he was homeless. My hands were tied. Ha, now his hands are tied.

Senior Proctor: Did you happen to search his person before you brought him in?

Street Proctor: Of course I did.

Senior Proctor: So you noticed that he was carrying this badge?

Street Proctor: I...of course I did. I didn’t think anything of it. It looks fake. I don’t recognize that design.

Senior Proctor: I don’t either, but feel how heavy it is.

Street Proctor: That doesn’t make it real.

Senior Proctor: I think it’s real to him, and I’m interested to find out where he got it, and why he has it. Don’t you? He didn’t identify himself as a parole officer, did he? Why do you think that is? It may have saved him some trouble.

Street Proctor: I have no idea. I probably would have left him alone if he had.

Senior Proctor: Let’s go in there and have a chat.

Street Proctor: His biometric results aren’t in yet.

Senior Proctor: I have a feeling they’re not going to find him in the system. *Opens door* Good evening. My name is Senior Proctor. Can you tell me what your name is?

Parole Officer: Miazga. Leonard Miazga.

Senior Proctor: It’s nice to meet you, Officer Miazga. You are an officer, correct?

Leonard Miazga: I am. I work for the Kansas City Metro Corps Department of Corrections as a parole officer for non-violent crimes.

Senior Proctor: Wow, that’s a mouthful. If you have steady work, why do you not have a permanent residential address?

Leonard: I choose to exercise my right to remain silent.

Senior Proctor: *laughs* What? Your right to remain silent? Never heard of it. Have you, Street Proctor?

Street Proctor: Can’t say that I have, boss.

Senior Proctor: I’ve never heard of the Kansas City Metro Corps either.

Street Proctor: Me neither.

Senior Proctor: Look, I don’t know what you’re tryin’ to pull here with this piece of junk badge, and your made up stories about being an officer of the court—

Street Proctor: I don’t either.

Senior Proctor: That’s enough, Street Proctor. Anyway, Mr. Miazga, my subordinate was right when he told you that he had no choice but to arrest you. If you have nowhere to live, you live in a jail cell. That’s the law. Understand?

Leonard: I understand.

Senior Proctor: Good.

Leonard: I understand that this country created no laws protecting suspected law-breakers, nor any meant to promote a sense of due process or fairness in justice.

Senior Proctor: Get him out of here. Pin that badge on him, and threaten his life if he tries to take it off. Let the other criminals in there decide how they feel about it.

The Advancement of Mateo Matic: June 8, 2398

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In general, the afterlife simulation was cut off from base reality. Pryce made this decision with good reason, it wasn’t just to keep control over the residents. As great as the virtual construct was, it wasn’t real by most people’s standards, and having a link back to the people they left behind could be psychologically detrimental. There were eleven status levels that one could earn or lose, though the bottom level was true death, and the top was incredibly rare resurrection. So really there were nine; each level up affording the resident more privileges. Level Seven Pink Elite was the best for the majority of people. The upper levels demanded a level of responsibility that not everyone valued. But within this level were sublevels. Just because you reached it, didn’t mean you had everything. Only a select few were given insight into the events down on Earth, and in later years, outward to the stars. Angela was one of these people, having proven herself worthy of the honor.

Near the beginning of the 21st century, a certain television series premiered, featuring a shady intelligence agency known as SD-6. She described it to the team, but Heath shook his head, not thinking the two had anything to do with each other. No such show existed in the Third Rail. The version of SD6 to which Leona apparently now belonged was probably as secretive, but not as nefarious. It wasn’t really one organization, but six—hence the name. The National Intelligence, Domestic Affairs, National Police, National Military, Court Agent, and Transportation Regulatory Authorities came together for a joint task force that kind of had carte blanche for any mission necessary to protect the country’s interests. For the longest time, the existence of this task force remained only rumor for the general public, but it now features an overt director, which holds press conferences, and the occasional accessible budget or ethics hearing. Still, this is a big deal. Leona is a big deal. More to the point, if her credentials are as good as they seem, this forger’s powers are greater than they thought to consider until now.

“Oh, I got a little six-thing in the corner too,” Mateo says. He hadn’t really looked at his own new badge until this morning.

The others hadn’t checked it either. Marie takes it from him, and inspects it carefully. “Commandant in the National Military Authority. Mateo, this is, like, five ranks higher than you were before.”

He shrugs. “You know me, I excel at everything I do.”

“What does she want from you?” Marie asks, shaking her head in disbelief.

“What does she want from us?” Angela corrects.

“She never asked anything of the two of us when we first got Marie her new identity four years ago,” Heath explains. “What’s so special about you? No offense, because I know you’re special, but how does she know that?”

“Maybe it doesn’t really have anything to do with us,” Mateo suggests. “Maybe she has a gambling problem, and lost all her money the day before we walked in her door. Maybe her brother’s been locked up in a federal prison, and she wants us to get them out. Maybe it’s just a coincidence.”

Leona is grateful that her husband came up with an alternative to her theory that Heath is a mole. “That’s really creative, honey, but we don’t have the luxury of believing in coincidences. I haven’t seen a coincidence since 2028.”

“Trying to figure out what she’s up to isn’t going to do any good unless we can speak with her directly,” Angela believes. “For now, we have to plan tomorrow’s events.”

“Tomorrow’s events?” Marie questions, confused. “We’re not leaving until Wednesday.”

“Yes,” Heath begins, “so we’re going to spend the whole day together, just the six of us. We’ll have a special breakfast, a special lunch, and a special dinner, along with a few other surprises.”

“Don’t worry,” Angela continues, “we’re not gonna parade down the streets. We’ll just secretly see you off. Is that okay?”

“Yeah,” Marie replies with a smile. “That’ll be great.”

The Advancement of Mateo Matic: June 7, 2398

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Leona opens the door without knocking, a little surprised to find it unlocked, but not showing it. The forger has security cameras around the outside, so she always knows when someone is coming. That’s not what it is this time, though. She’s not here at all. The whole place has been completely cleaned out, and cleaned up. Leona rubs her index finger on the counter. Not a single mote of dust, grease, or anything else has been left behind. It smells of bleach, implying that the one who once called this her office has left, whether it be because she was getting too involved with their team, or for other reasons. Perhaps the authorities are on to her, or she’s paranoid about the possibility. Or maybe this is just something she does every now and then. Either way, it suggests that she’s out of their lives forever, and Mateo won’t have to pretend to be a federal agent, or find a way out of it. Leona is about to leave when something catches her eye.

A gray something or other is peeking out from around the corner on one of the lockers towards the back. More curious than anything, she goes over to check it out. It’s a pantsuit, fit for a woman of her measurements. Developing the sickening feeling that she’s going to regret it, she opens the locker to find six more like it, of various designs. On the little shelf above is a badge and gun. Cardinal Agent Miriam Salinas of the National Intelligence Authority. There’s an oddly intimidating logo in the corner that looks like a numeral six, with a line against the right side, and a curve flowing the opposite direction on the bottom.

Leona stares at her picture on the left side of the ID. She glances to the sidearm occasionally, and also the wardrobe. This is what she wanted. She wanted to keep Mateo out of it, and take on the burden. The problem is, how did the forger know that? As she’s staring, she thinks about all the people they have been in contact with since they came to this reality. She hasn’t found herself with the ability to trust even one of them. Even Heath is suspect. He just happened to catch wind of Marie’s supernatural arrival, and chose to keep it secret, and now they’re married? She hasn’t said anything, because they seem happy, but who is this guy, and why is he so cool about all this? If anyone’s a mole, it has to be him, because no one knew that Leona was planning to take Mateo’s place except for him, and the team. Ramses hasn’t stopped checking the condo for bugs since he first freaked out about the possibility.

This is okay. It’s going to be okay. While three of them are off on their special mission, Leona can keep an eye on this Heath Walton fellow, and decide whether he could have some kind of ulterior motive. She sticks the badge in her pocket, hooks the holster to her belt, conceals it with a blazer, and gathers the rest of the suits. In her first timeline, she would play secret agent with a neighbor kid. This experience is evidently about to become useful.

What she didn’t know as she was having that last thought is just how right she was. As she’s walking back to Heath’s car, another car pulls up. She catches the glint of red and blue in the grill, which tells her that it’s an unmarked law enforcement vehicle of some kind. She has enough time to pop the trunk, and toss the wad of clothes in, but if she tries to do the same for the gun, they’ll just see it. It’s much better if she leaves it hidden, and hopes that they don’t find a reason to search her person. A woman gets out of the driver’s side, and a man gets out of the passenger seat. They’re both wearing suits, and approaching like cops who aren’t presently afraid of their situation.

“Agent Collar. This is my local police liaison, Detective Horton. Mind telling me what division you’re with?”

Now, Leona knows what division she’s with. Her badge says so. The problem is, she doesn’t know how a real agent would say that, or really what she would say in this situation, full stop. Would a real agent say the whole thing, or would she just say NIA? Would she throw around a proverbial ruler, or be all nice about it? Maybe she ought to just let the badge itself do the talking. She pulls it out, which reveals the gun on her belt, which is probably not secured according to regulations.

The agent’s eyes widen in—is that horror, or deference? “Oh, SD6. Sorry, sir. I had no idea. We got a tip about this spot. What would you like us to do?” Deference.

Recalling the mumbo jumbo she’s heard on TV, and hoping this reality uses the same nomenclature, Leona nods once. “Get forensics down here. It’s been scrubbed, but maybe there’s something here that they missed.”

“Right away, sir.” She clears her throat suggestively to her liaison.

He’s a little slow, but gets the idea, and goes back to the car to radio the station.

“Any leads?” Agent Collar asks.

When Leona first put on this blazer, she noticed something rather light tap against her chest. She kind of ignored it, because it didn’t seem too important. Now she realizes that it’s just a pair of sunglasses in the inside pocket. Still thinking about how someone in her position might act given the circumstances—as seen through the lens of a highly stylized and melodramatic police procedural—she suavely places them on her face, and jerks her lapels down in a commanding sort of way. “I’ll run them down myself. Just secure the scene. I’ll call you if I need backup.”

Agent Collar nods respectfully, and lets Leona get in her car, but then realizes something. “Oh, wait. Let me give you my card.”

“I can find your number if I want it,” Leona tells her coolly just before slamming the door shut. She drives off under the speed limit. Shit, did that just work?

The Advancement of Mateo Matic: June 4, 2398

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Mateo is on foot again, this time with his cell phone tucked neatly in his pocket, still over 90% charged. He stormed out of the car so quickly the other night that he didn’t notice it fall out of his pocket, and then he was mostly worried about himself—perhaps he might get lost in the big city—because he didn’t know that Ramses was in trouble. They all need to stay in contact all the time. Even if three of them are in the middle of a serious conversation, and want to turn off their ringers, the six of them are always exceptions.

As Mateo continues down the sidewalk, he dwells on the events before the abduction. That’s a whole weird conversation they need to have, because it’s just getting unbelievable that they’ve nearly all been taken and held against their will at some point. Only Marie has made it out of this so far, and she’s about to travel to a potentially hostile environment in Croatia, so it could only be a matter of time. That’s not what he’s upset about right now, though. After Leona’s hostage situation, she came out of it perfectly fine. According to her report, two men broke into the lab due the perceived wrongful termination of one of them. On their way to dinner on Tuesday, Leona let a little bit of information about that debacle slip, which snowballed into the truth that not only did that guy end up with temporal tech, but also that a shady organization is now probably watching their every move.

Leona is concerned about these people, but she was evidently not going to tell anyone about it. Instead, she had this elaborate plant to methodically sneak every team member out of the country, and seek anonymous refuge elsewhere. She hoped that, now that Mateo knew what was going on, he would side with her, and help her make this actually work. Now the reality is out in the open, though, no one else agrees with her either. Something has to be done about their exposure, but running is not the answer. They’ll just be looking over their shoulders forever, and any hope they might have of returning home will be lost. Mateo can’t go look for answers around the world, and Ramses can’t build whatever it is he thinks they need, if people are tracking them. The only option is to fight back, and it starts with what Mateo is doing on his own today. He shakes off the fight, because he has to switch gears to another problem. These military credentials were a bad idea from the start, and he can’t believe the rest of the team let him go through with it. Hopefully the forger doesn’t give him any crap.

He’s about to knock on the door when the lock buzzes, and it opens a crack. He steps in to find her waiting for him at the end of the hallway, instead of behind the counter. She looks...excited? “Oh no,” he says. “You’re scaring me. What are you planning to sell me today?”

“No, nothing. No extra costs.” She said she didn’t want any repeat business, but she sure doesn’t exhibit such misanthropy in real life. “I was just about to call you, which is a cool coincidence. I think you’re really gonna like it.”

“I don’t want anything more. In fact, I would like to return something.”

“No refunds.”

“No refund necessary. I just want you to remove me from any and all databases featuring me as an individual with military credentials.”

“Ooo, I don’t know that I can do that.”

“You’re going to have to figure it out. It’s already gotten me in trouble once.”

“Yeah, I heard about your little adventure on the high seas.”

“How could you have heard about that? We didn’t tell anyone.”

Let’s just say that I’m more than just a local forger.”

He points at her face. “See, that. That’s what makes me nervous about you.”

“No, don’t be nervous. That’s ignorant.”

“What are you?”

“I’m somebody that can get you into any government agency building in the country, or any U.S. outpost in the world.”

“I never asked for that!” he shouts.

“I got it for you anyway. It’s not crazy. Lots of veterans transition to agency work after their service commitment ends.”

“I just told you that I want to be erased from the system,” he reminds her. “I don’t want to do anything with that. Only a few men found out about me, but the longer I stay in there, the greater the chances that my position within the military will be scrutinized. So just get rid of it. Wipe it clean.”

“I’m afraid I can’t do that. I’ve already initiated the upgrade package. This one is airtight. You come from a profoundly secretive branch of the intelligence department. Anyone who tries to verify your history will hit a brick wall. Those people can neither confirm nor deny the existence of an agent of any given name. You could ask them if Daranda The Drama Dragon was an agent, and they would give you reason to believe that maybe she actually is.”

“Who is Daranda The Drama Dragon?”

“See, that. That’s what makes me nervous about you,” she echoes him from earlier, with the same accusatory finger-pointing. “Every kid grew up watching Dragon Drama on Sunday mornings. The fact that it doesn’t even trigger a familiar reaction from you makes no sense. So where are you really from?”

“Nowhere special, we just needed new identities. I thought you didn’t ask questions.”

“I don’t know that I said that.” She sighs, and presents him with a silver authority badge, and a sidearm. “You’ll need these later.”

“I don’t..want them!”

“You don’t..have a choice!”

“Erase me from the military system, or I’ll expose your little operation to whatever agency might be interested in you, as well as any other interested third party. You somehow got it in your head that I can be pushed around, and manipulated, but my friends and I don’t like to be told what to do. It never ends well for the people doing the telling.” He ignores the badge and gun, and tries to walk away

“How would you handle someone like me?” she asks, which doesn’t prompt him to turn back. “Would you teleport into my house at night, and slit my throat?”

Now he stops, wishing he hadn’t. If he had just kept walking, maybe whatever it is she knows could just be brushed off as a ridiculous figment of her imagination. Just by pausing, he’s given her cause to think he has anything to do with teleportation. “Who are you, and why do you want me to become a federal agent? What can I do that you can’t do yourself, or have done for you by someone you know you can trust?”

“I’m the only one in this world who’s on your side. The war is coming, Mr. Matic. You can either support the war effort, or put a stop to it. You’ll need a badge either way.”

The Advancement of Mateo Matic: April 23, 2398

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Mateo stayed up all night while the forger was working, so he has to take in a nap in the middle of the day. Leona is anxious to get to her new job, but she is going to have to wait a few weeks. The access badge she was given is ready on its own, but the backstory is not. She can’t just waltz in there and expect the humans to be as accommodating as the radio-controlled doors. The lie is that she’s transferring from another university, but it will take time to process the paperwork, and field the calls that her future supervisor will make to verify the request. Ramses, on the other hand, is all ready to go. It only takes a single call from store to store to verify his transfer, and his manager doesn’t need a bunch of information in this regard. He’s a warm body capable of performing a hard reset on a laptop; that’s good enough. She decides to accompany him on his orientation just to offer support. He thinks that’s a little weird, but the manager does not.

“We’re always looking for new recruits,” Oswald tells her enthusiastically.

“Okay, um. I would only be able to work part time,” Leona explains, wondering if this is truly why she came. “I have something else in the evenings.”

“That’s fine,” Oswald says. “Can you start right now?”

“You don’t want to interview me?” she questions.

“All right,” Oswald decides. “Initiate interview: how much do you want?”

“Normal entry level pay,” she answers.

“That’s only thirty dollars an hour.”

“Wow. Inflation has gotten pretty bad, hasn’t it?” Leona muses.

Oswald shrugs. “Hm. Seems normal to me, but okay, entry level. Deactivate interview. Activate offer: you got the job. Do you want it, or not?”

“I’ll take it,” Leona agrees. And just like that, she has a day job.

“Good.” Oswald is relieved. “By company policy, I have to be in the room while you watch the orientation video. I generally prefer to start as many people as I can on the same day. Sorry, Mister Abda...Abdula—”

“Abdulrashid,” Ramses helps.

“Right. Sorry, but you have to watch it too, even though you’re a transfer.”

“That’s okay,” Ramses assures him.

The video is fine, but it might get tedious after having to watch it for the upteenth time. While Oswald is wearing his headphones against the back wall, cleverly placed so he can’t be seen not paying attention through the window, the two of them learn about where they’re going to work. An anthropomorphic diamond appears on the screen with a big smile on its face. “Welcome to Tialma IRL, our brick and mortar division of Tialma Systems. Just so you know, there are two other divisions within the main corporation: Tialma Digital, and Tialma Services. You may be working with other team members from these departments, so it’s important that you’re aware of them on your first day. Speaking of which, congratulations. You have chosen to work for one of the most innovative, socially conscious, and inclusive stores in the world. At Tialma, we believe that the customer comes first, the employee comes second, and the shareholders come last. We’re not here to make money. We’re here to support the community, and you’re an integral component of that strategy. Let me explain to you what we mean by that.”

Once the generic video is over, they’re given a quiz on it, which they ace easily. They’re then handed aptitude tests. Leona will just be a salesperson, while Ramses will work in the repair department in back. They each ace their own test too, affording Leona a ten dollar increase in pay, and automatically assigning Ramses as the lead technician of his team. Unfortunately, this means demoting the guy who already had that job. They’re starting to learn that this is a pretty cutthroat reality, which stresses competition over personal growth and success. You have to be the best, and then stay the best. The main sequence encourages healthy competition as well, but with a much stronger emphasis on the healthy part. The Third Rail doesn’t care how you win, just that you’re the one at the top of the hill. This mentality is probably what led to all of their wars. According to his new coworkers, Ramses’ predecessor ended up where he was because he sabotaged the team lead before him. They recommend he sleep with one eye open.

Leona has a slightly more pleasant experience on the floor. Her coworkers don’t have the same drive to destroy everyone else on the ladder with them. Thirty to forty bucks is enough for their single, studio apartment lifestyles, and they’re not going to work too hard to go places they don’t wanna go. They don’t think it’s worth it. Leona has always had ambition, but she’s also always appreciated just being relaxed and comfortable. She finds the job itself a little difficult at first. She’s incredibly intelligent, but she’s not too terribly experienced with this reality’s technology, so she makes a couple of mistakes. It doesn’t cause the company any money, but the customers wouldn’t exactly rate their visit an 11 out of 10 either. She’s entitled to the 40 an hour she was promised for today, but starting tomorrow, it will only be 39. She doesn’t care about the money, but she doesn’t like to fail, so she downloads the worker’s guidebook, the inventory specifications list, and several technical manuals for the most important items in the store. She spends about $150 on this educational material, which is almost all the money she made during her four-hour shift.

The Advancement of Mateo Matic: April 22, 2398

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If Marie and Heath didn’t work out their issues, they didn’t let the rest of the team know. They came out of Angela’s bedroom after an hour, and sort of pretended like nothing had happened. Their friends could occasionally hear muffled yelling from the other side of the door, so they obviously said something to each other, but it’s unclear where they were going to go from here. Instead of saying anything about it, they decided it was time for the other four to secure their own new IDs, because they could be in this reality for a while. Nothing came from screening the footage from the parking lot, so they planned a field trip for the next day.

In the main sequence, they could have gone to a man by the name of The Forger, who could create actual new identities for all of them. These weren’t just fake papers, backdated as far into the past as possible, but a rewritten history of their lives, using real documents from the real past. And they could rely on the Forger to not leak the truth about them anywhere else, because he’s one of them, and just as susceptible to exposure. The Third Rail is a different story, obviously. It took some doing for Heath to find a forger for Marie, and they are at constant risk of being discovered. If their forger is caught by the authorities, he could give up his clients. He says that he doesn’t maintain records—and in fact doesn’t even ask for people’s original identities—but he had to take their pictures, and pictures can be copied. It’s dangerous for them to go back to the same guy, but even more dangerous to try to find someone else. At least he’s lasted four years without confessing to the cops. Theoretically, he could last four more.

He’s not there, but this is clearly still a document forging operation. They can see all the equipment behind the counter. A very young woman has her legs propped up on it. She’s scowling in a this place was better before they put in a door sort of way, and apparently upset about having to put down her book. She has an abstract tattoo along her jawline, and a funky haircut with a purple streak. The only thing missing is a lollipop in her mouth, or maybe seventeen sticks of gum. “Yeah, he’s dead. I’m his replacement.”

“Replacement?” Marie questions, “like, you interviewed?”

“No, I was more like an apprentice. Now it’s all mine. Behold, old ones, my exquisite palace of shit.”

“You don’t sound too enthusiastic,” Ramses says.

She turns to look at him. “The way I see it, if I’m too eager to do my job, I might be too eager to remember anything about my clients. I don’t care who you are. I don’t care why you need this. I only care if you have the money. Once you walk out of this room, you’re gone. I don’t wanna see you again. And if I do, it won’t matter, because I have a superpower.”

The team looks amongst each other.

“Not literally, they actually call it a disorder. I cannot detect or recall faces. Like, all I see are six people standing in front of me. I can’t tell you apart. When I hand you your packets, you’ll have to figure out whose is whose. That’s why I’m so good at this, and why Ramos chose me in the first place to carry on his dumb Kansas City secret legacy. Now. Do you want your IDs, or not?”

“Can we pick our own names?” Angela asks.

The forger shrugs.

Angela turns to Marie and Heath. “There’s no reason we can’t use our normal ones, right? I mean, we just need to be able to drive, and stuff. We don’t need to hide.”

“That’s how we saw it,” Heath replies.

“In fact,” Mateo says. “If anyone out there recognizes one of our names, we probably do want them to approach us. Even if they’re dangerous, we need answers.”

“I can explain,” Marie says to the forger, trying to think of a believable lie.

“Like I said, I don’t care. I need three things: your money, your chosen names, and for each of you to sit in that chair over there, and pose for a few photos. I have multiple backdrops for different IDs, along with some shirts you can borrow. I always do birth certificate, passport, and driver’s license. Those are included, but you can pay more for student IDs, certain employee badges, and even bank cards. I’m currently running a deal where if you buy one of the extras, I’ll throw in a library card for free. If you cough up enough money for a military ID of some kind, we go into the backroom, and I’ll let you do whatever you want for twelve minutes.”

“Uh, that’s okay,” Leona tells her. “We don’t need that.”

“You all can get whatever else you want,” Heath promises them. “Don’t worry about the money.” He jiggles his duffel bag of cash.

“We might could use a military ID,” Mateo declares.

“Excuse me?” his wife questions.

“But instead of twelve minutes in the backroom, I want to stay here and watch you work, for however long that takes.”

The forger narrows her eyes at him, and thinks about it. “It’s $10,000.”

Mateo looks to Marie.

“Okay, you can get it, but you’re eating all of your vegetables tonight,” she agrees. “And no dessert.”

“Oh, he can have dessert. I may not recognize his face, but I can see dat body,” the forger explains.

He grimaces, but of course, nothing happens between them that night. He just wanted to make sure she would do the job as they asked, and he was also curious how it would all come together. They may never need the military ID, but it could prove useful. Stolen valor is no joke, but Mateo can conceive of a situation where it’s their only way to solve a problem, or get out of a predicament.

He’s not the only one who opted for upgrades. Both Leona and Ramses ask for employee badges; her to an astrophysics lab, and him to an electronics corporation. It’s not the largest, nor the best, but it’s the only one the forger has access to. Now they can take all the equipment they might need, and also have some means of studying this reality. Angela takes one of the library cards for herself, and Mateo takes another. She wants to learn more about their new world, and he wants to finally learn something. All told, this ends up costing them $28,000, but neither Marie nor Heath are fazed, and it could one day save their lives.

“How was your night?” Leona asks when he returns the next morning.

“It was fascinating,” Mateo answers. “You probably would have liked it.”

“That’s great. One thing, though.”

“Okay?”

“You’re sleeping in the living room with Ramses tonight. You can come back to bed tomorrow.”