Microstory 1739: Jana Crane

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For the most part, Jana Crane tried to keep to herself. She kept her head down, did her job, and didn’t complain when the people she worked with treated her like crap. She tried to be as accommodating as possible, without being a pushover who no one respected. She was a factory inspector, who would go around her region, making sure that the businesses she was assigned to were maintaining health and safety standards. She was thorough and careful, and didn’t let anything slide. Forgetting to fill out your monthly logs completely is one thing, but not properly securing a piece of incredibly dangerous equipment was just something that could not be tolerated. Her reports were not meant to get anyone in trouble, but she saw them as a way for the companies to improve themselves, and prevent anything from going terribly wrong. It would be bad for the floor workers if one of them became injured, and bad for the employers if that injured worker sued the company, or otherwise cost them money. Everyone should love inspectors for preventing such tragedies. At least that was how Jana saw it, but no one else shared her sentiments, even people whose lives she was trying to preserve. Perhaps if she wore a cape, and a symbol of some kind on her chest, they would think differently of her. One person in particular could have done with a little more perspective. He was a floor supervisor who probably should have never been promoted, but far be it for Jana to judge the process. What she could judge, however, was how casual he was with the safety protocols. He didn’t worry about locking down the machines. He let his people go in there without safety goggles. He didn’t care about anything. If she didn’t know any better, she might think he was asking for a bad outcome. Sadly, she was the one who ended up in a bad situation. She gave him low marks too many times, and he had had enough. She was going to stop inspecting his work, whether she wanted to or not.

The last thing she saw before the darkness was his face. He wasn’t wearing a mask, or anything. He probably thought she wouldn’t recognize him, and since she wouldn’t be able to pick him out of a lineup later, he would get away with it. Or maybe he was just a moron who didn’t think things through carefully. That was the most likely reason he not only showed his face, but spoke to her after throwing the acid in her eyes, and made references to their previous encounters with each other. She screamed, but couldn’t cry, on account of the acid. She just tried her best to wipe the chemicals off of her face. She pulled her shirt off, and wiped some more. It got the excess off, but it didn’t stop the pain, and it wouldn’t give her her sight back. He didn’t laugh. He was angry; talking about how this was her fault, and if she had just ignored the infractions, this wouldn’t have had to happen. All this, like it was completely unavoidable. An unlocked chemical cabinet was unsafe, but he didn’t appear to recognize the irony. She could hear his footsteps grow fainter, so she started to reach out around her. Feeling around was taking too long, so Jana had to be bolder. By the end of this, she was going to have a lot of bruises, but she would live. Every second she waited would make it that much harder for the doctors to fix her eyes. She began to run. She didn’t run into anything, so she went faster and faster through the factory, all the way out into the cold, and over to a warehouse down the street, which she knew operated 24/7. Her vision was never quite the same after that, but she didn’t go blind, and the floor supervisor didn’t go free.

Microstory 1013: Floyd

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No two people could be any more different than Viola Woods and I. Well, I guess on a personal level, we probably had a lot in common. After all, we grew up in the same town, and knew all the same people. But she was rich and loved, and I’m lower middle class, and invisible. I’m surprised I’m even on your list. I’ve never shown up for picture day, I don’t have any friends, and teachers often forget to call my name when they’re taking attendance. I have a pretty decent group of friends in online chatrooms, but I don’t really connect with people in real life. I have a lot of anxiety, and not the kind that everyone is diagnosed with so they can get prescription marijuana. I’m the real deal. I was nervous and depressed before it was cool. My perspective is quite different than what you’ll find in the rest of this school, so if you want to get an honest idea of who Viola Woods was, you’ve come to the right place. You see, I identify as asexual, which means I don’t experience sexual attraction towards others. I have an idea of what sexuality is, and it’s not that I don’t feel anything, but it’s not anywhere near what other people feel. Most people probably think that the brain is pretty basic. Your eyes see things around it, determine what they are, and draw conclusions. Your memories are stored in a single place, and your motor skills in another. But it’s far more complicated than that, and there are a lot of oddly specific functions that can be either enhanced or impeded, depending on an individual’s neurochemistry. My therapist thinks it’s possible that I would enjoy sex if I were to experience it personally. But my parents are extremely strict and religious, so there wouldn’t be a lot of opportunity for me to...uh, explore. I’ve also never really tried very hard to steal magazines from Lulu’s gas station, like the other boys, so there’s that.

The reason I may not exactly be totally asexual is because I have a severe case of something call prosopagnosia. The part of my brain that’s meant to interpret faces, and only faces, does not work properly. The better I know a person, the more likely I am to recognize them, but I couldn’t point out my own mother if she dressed like a goth at a football game. I know the people around me based on voices, and context clues. I can tell you that someone has two eyes, two ears, a nose, and a mouth. And I can tell that they’re supposed to be unique, but they don’t appear unique to me. So that’s what it really comes down to. I’m not attracted to people, because they just all look the same to me. An interesting side effect to this is that I have a pretty objective view of others. You would be surprised how much a person’s looks impacts other people’s thoughts on them. The truth is that Viola Woods was a good person. She was nice and caring to others, and she would likely have led a full and happy life. She was also flawed, a bit self-involved, and painfully normal. She was just like everyone else. Yeah, we’re all special in our own way, I get it. But there was nothing particularly astonishing about this one girl. You’re going to hear a lot of opinions about her over the course of your investigation, Alma. I just want you remember as it’s happening that all of these people are talking to you after her death occurred, and that death is going to have an effect on their words. No one is going to be totally honest with you, and no one is going to say anything they would have said if she were still alive, and this was just some random profile piece. If, when you’re done, you want a little extra perspective for those interviews, you may contact me again. I’m happy to help.

Microstory 947: Chipotle

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Not until I was checking my calendar to see what my next story was meant to be about did I remember that I’ve already sort of written about my love for Chipotle. It was a weird one, and I don’t expect you to read it. In fact, you probably shouldn’t. It was early on in my career, so I didn’t have much experience with the short form. Anyway, people love everything about food, don’t they? They love to cook it, to watch others cook it, and most importantly, they love to eat it. We’ve come up with so many different dishes, and so many different ways to eat them. We can’t go one day without at least one new restaurant that’s attempting to do things differently; sometimes even with the hope of revolutionizing the industry. There are restaurants with no lights, and/or blindfolds, supposedly so it enriches your sense of taste. We all know that’s actually nonsense, because this isn’t a comic book, and no one is Daredevil. You can’t impede a sense for an hour, and except the others to suddenly be extraordinarily enhanced. All you’re doing is giving people food without them knowing what it is, while also giving waiters ample opportunity to covertly lick the glasses, and make obscene gestures with their hands. Molecular gastronomists use science to try to make food better in some significant, but ultimately pointless, way; some don’t let you use utensils; and some don’t let you use chairs. There’s a restaurant for all tastes, and for no tastes, which is one reason why half of them fail within the first year. Yes, people do love to eat, but I am not one of these people. I would be totally satisfied with scifi food cubes, if given the option, and would actually prefer it. Why, I just watched an episode of a show I’ve already seen, because tonight’s programs had not yet begun, but I also couldn’t write and eat my soup at the same time. Food is a burden, and I would sooner eliminate it from my routine, if someone found me a way, than try out some edgy way of eating. However, if I had to pick a favorite restaurant, it would be Chipotle. Their menu is easy to understand, and their lines quick to move through, assuming you don’t have some jackass ordering for the whole office without using the catering system. The ingredients check all my boxes, and the meals don’t leave messes. I love it so much that I had to institute a once per week limit, which I knew I would break if I didn’t make this deliberate plan. I’m currently trying to make my waiting period longer, but it’s not easy. My closest store location is too close to my house, and I have trouble getting through my drive home from work without being hungry. I’m just glad they don’t deliver, because if they did, my bank account’s tummy would start grumbling. Still, thank you, Chipotle Mexican Grill, for being you.

Microstory 883: Forced Perspective

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You are all here because you understand what we’re doing, and what’s at stake. This job will not be easy. We are investing heavily in counseling services, and while we’re still working out the details, one thing we do know is that witnesses will be limited to the number of cases they’re allowed to work over the course of a yet-to-be established duration of time. This is extremely dangerous technology; it can have lasting effects on a person’s psyche. Anyone who finds joy in their work will be immediately removed from the program, with zero compensation. I expect you to have trouble seeing the horrific things you will undoubtedly see, but at the same time, I expect you to do your job. One thing we haven’t explained yet is that there is an unusual component to the memories that we can’t seem to figure out. Has anyone ever heard of the medical condition known as prosopagnosia? Well, it’s also known as face blindness. It’s a less rare than you would believe cognitive disorder wherein the patient has trouble recognizing faces. They could conceivably be standing right next to a loved one that they’ve known their entire lives, and not have any idea. They interact with other individuals using context clues, like fashion, and hairstyle. Out of all of the survivors who have agreed to this program, not one of them suffers from this condition, so it has nothing to do with them personally. For some reason, when the memories are fed into the image interpreting software, it doesn’t come out right. You will be able to see through their eyes, as clear as they could; better, even, because you will not be experiencing the same shock and trauma as they did. You will not, however, be able to discern the face of their attacker, even if they weren’t wearing some kind of cover. Again, we don’t understand why this is, and we haven’t found a workaround to include this data into the system. If we could, we wouldn’t have to hire most of you, because we would be able to solve these cases with nothing more than a few memory fragments. It will be your job to look for clues from these scenes. You’ll still be able to see distinguishing marks, like tattoos, or moles. Think about how the attacker smells, how stronger they are, their balance of rage, resentment, and feelings of inadequacy. If you do manage to see their face, please let us know, so that we can further study this problem. This is important work, and if the pilot program succeeds, it could be a great boon to our justice system. No one in the world deserves to experience rape, which is why you will have every opportunity to back out of this program at any moment, with no legal consequences. You can even quit in the middle of a procedure, if you just cannot take any more of the pain. If no one has any further questions, then we will begin. We only have one machine at the moment, so who’s first?

Microstory 780: Fever

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It starts with a fever, just like any regular illness, but then it turns into something new. Something bad. Something you’ve never experienced before. It will not simply take your abilities away, which is something that’s already happened to you. Why, that’s what got you into this mess in the first place. They gave you this drug, and claimed it would enhance your abilities—which it ultimately did—and the only downside it was supposed to have was that you would lose them temporarily, while your body reworked itself into something even greater than it was when you were born. What they failed to tell you was that this drug was created by someone who failed to leave any notes or research. The people who gave it to you, not only didn’t concoct it themselves, but actually don’t know who did, so even if it had undergone extensive testing, there was no documentation for them to study. They didn’t realize at the time, but this enhancement drug had terrible long-term effects. Without treatment, if used more than once, the drug will cause your abilities to turn on you. Cosmo Drexler, who normally has control over the acceleration of moving objects, becomes trapped in a temporal bubble of sorts, unable to move beyond a snail’s pace. Tamra Shore, whose body constantly replenishes itself, while slowing her aging, develops rapidly progressing cancer. Pyrokinetic Diane Ghoti’s body overheats, Peyton Resin becomes stuck in rock form, and supervisor Valary Sela goes blind. Scientists began researching possible cures for the virus immediately, but have been unable to come up with an overarching cure. Though all anomalies will be affected by the pathogen, in some way, their symptoms will always present themselves in different ways. This means that, though a virus is what delivered the corruption to the body, in the first place, that is no longer the problem. Now your body has been genetically altered with the bad code. Even if they found a way to combat the virus, it wouldn’t help anyone showing symptoms, for the virus in them is already dead anyway. It’s their respective bodies they need to worry about now. Everyone gets a different cure, based on their abilities, and symptoms. And we all know whose cures they’re gonna work on first. Are you one of the elite?

Microstory 731: Credos, Convention Six: Communication, Chapter One

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The sixth canister showed the wandering child a small village in the middle of nowhere. This world had developed independent of all others, and in fact, they did not know people could come from the stars. They were technologically unadvanced, though there people had lived there for centuries. Technology is only invented to solve some problem, and since they lived in relative harmony as they were, it did not strike them as necessary to improve upon their lives. They hunted in the nearby woods, they fished in the nearby stream, and their resources were never exhausted. One day, an exploration ship came upon their lonely planet, finding it to be beautiful and welcoming. They did notice several sparse populations on its surface, but chose to ignore them. They sold the coordinates to a group of travelers seeking to put down roots, and these travelers came to the new world hopeful and excited. Their landing shuttles were large, and made of materials the villages had never seen before, and so they still could not. Though the vessels were ferrying passengers from the sky, the villages literally could not see them. This would disrupt their worldview so much, that their brains could not process the information properly, leading them to be quite nearly blind to what was happening all around them.

The villagers could feel vibrations, hear rushing wind, and feel a warmth, but still, they could not actually see anything. They believed the gods to be trying to send them some kind of message, but could not interpret its meaning, so they argued. Some believed the gods to be angry with them. Out of those, some thought a human sacrifice must be made to appease them, while many believed gods to be nonviolent, and required sacrifices of food and comfort. Still, others thought the gods were simply trying to reach out to them. Not only were the gods not angry, but they were pleased with how the village had prospered, and were inviting them to a grand introduction. These contradictory theories caused much strife in the village, ultimately leading to days of infighting. Having finished transporting the migrants from their orbiting ship, the shuttles stopped landing on the surface, leading the villagers to believe that this was a second message. They had failed in understanding the divine words, and would be met with much hardship for their insolence. Though they were ashamed of their failure, the internal conflict continued, for every faction blamed every other, rather than themselves. The population dwindled as the weeks passed. They holed themselves up in separate caves, and other strongholds, though. Not wanting to diminish their numbers too greatly, eventually the fighting ceased, only because the battles no longer felt safe. Their instinct to preserve their species held firm, despite their hatred. This gave them time to open negotiations between the warring factions; to find some common ground, and quickly remember that they were once one peoples, with mutual goals. And so they came back together. The short war was over.

Microstory 720: Celebrate the Book of Darkness

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Fosteans, especially Lightseers, have been filled with such anger for having been betrayed by our founders. We are grateful for the Force of Love, and the other two Forces of Virtue, which affect us with subtler intensity than before, but which have never gone away. But this alone would not be enough. Fortunately, even in all this depression, and despite the uncertainty of the Book of Anseluka’s new taikon, there is still some hope. The penultimate taikon foresees the emergence of a new divine book; one that would change our entire perspective on the universe. The new era is to be marked by the 14 conventions in the Consociation Credo: coordination, collaboration, cooperation, cordiality, congruence, communication, constructiveness, cohesion, commitment, congeniality, collegiality, consensus, compromise, courtesy. A married couple, who met at a study group for hyperobservant people, and who now work together at a small research startup, noticed a complex pattern in the passage text that others seemed to not see. They analyzed these words, and it eventually led them to uncovering an unindexed network file that would never have been found just by searching keywords. This file contained the manuscript for the Book of Darkness. Through an only cursory glance, experts see that this is the divine book that we have been looking for. It does not diminish the teachings in the Book of Light. Nor does it condemn Sotiren and Ivanka for their treachery. It will, however, prove an invaluable resource in braving this new universe, centered upon this idea of the 14 Consociation Credo conventions. The Book of Darkness teaches us that the Light is nothing without the Darkness. Without the latter, it’s just this blinding force that doesn’t allow you to actually see what you’re doing, or where you’re going. Darkness gives life meaning, and we must acknowledge that truth, and appreciate this balance. We still have much to learn from our new proof text, but it is already being distributed to all who wish to read it, completely free of charge. And now it is time to prepare for the outcome of all our work. We still believe in the taikon, even if they were first conceived by the Grand Deceivers, and we know that we have not been through all of this for nothing. The end is near...and so is the beginning.

Microstory 655: Beginning of the Famine

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The Sacred Light is an unforgiving power. Many people flock to our religion in hopes of finding security and serenity. And it’s true that the warmth of the Light can bring peace to all who let it shine upon their souls. But it can also be dangerous, violent, and hurtful. Lightseers, and Fosteans as a whole, have a long history of being history of being persecuted and mistreated. We’ve talked a lot about the dirty communists who once plagued our leadership, but what we’ve not explained is that our past is what defines us. We could not be as powerful and self-assured today had we not suffered and struggled. During one of our holiest of observances, we recognize the battles our ancestors had to go through; clawing their way from the darkness. We call it Dimbaz, and it is during a period of three days that we remember their sacrifices by emulating them. We purposefully hide our eyes from sources of light that are too intense, generally by wearing masks, visors, or other headgear. We also practice a level of fasting, where some will keep themselves from food the entire time, while others will merely eat sparingly. This year’s Dimbaz fatefully fell just after the Week in One Day taikon series, and during the fulfillment of the fifty-fourth taikon. Fittingly, Sotiren Zahir foretold that soon the galaxy would find itself in the middle of a great famine. This was hard to believe seeing as food is such an easy commodity to come by. No one lives on any orbital without preexisting, or terraformed, life. We’ve advanced food science to the point of being able to manufacture nutrients from almost nothing, so there isn’t any logical reason that we would have to experience a famine. Sure, there are parts of the galaxy where people live on less, and certain peoples don’t work hard enough to earn a decent amount of sustenance, but these are isolated cases. Even if there were some kind of famine, surely it would affect only the sinners, and our rivals. We believe in the Light, and all its glory. Surely we would be protected. But we weren’t. What occurred next was no simple food shortage. It wasn’t just that we weren’t growing or processing food at a reasonable rate, or suffered a blight that somehow managed to spread between the stars. Food just started spoiling too quickly. We eventually found an explanation for this horrific turn of events, but knowing the science behind it did nothing to detract from the fact that it happened. As terrible as it was, it was a necessary step towards the next chapter of the story of the taikon.

Microstory 654: A Blind Man Made Guide

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Back in ancient times, a number of conditions caused people to be seemingly irreparably blind. It was often the result of a bad connection between the eyes, and the brain. Medical advancement eventually solved all of these issues so that today, blindness is all but impossible. Even the poorest of us have access to the right treatments to cure, or at least work around, a lack of sight. Arkeizens are little good as thralls if they can’t see, so they too are provided with the necessary medical care. Many people are born without the ability to go blind outside of some kind of physical trauma, because any genetic predisposition to poor eyesight is usually weeded out. Lightseers have long questioned the realization of this taikon, because a blind person, even if they existed, would ultimately be fully capable of becoming a guide. We weren’t even sure what that word, guide meant in this context, but none of the possibilities would be prohibitive to blindness. The ability for a blind person to do anything in our worlds could never be rare enough to qualify as a taikon, because as previously stated, a cure should be easily available. But again, the Sacred Savior has proven himself to be complete infallible, his words ringing just as true here as they do elsewhere in the Book of Light. When the recent converts first touched down on the new Kesliperia, they were welcomed by the light of two stars. The second had recently come into existence, with no decent scientific explanation for how that was possible. One of the passengers on the exodus ship was a woman who never had the privilege of a name. She was born in the Caves of Dormancy, a system of tunnels in one of the moons orbiting Raista where a strange light-hating cult lived. She had rarely seen the stars, and had never beared witness to the majesty of a sun. This one would be her last. So enamoured with the wondrous sight, she stared at the two suns in the sky, ignoring the words of warning from those around her. Everything seemed fine once she found the willpower to pull herself from it, but the damage had been done. Not two days later, she discovered herself to be blind. Doctors could have fixed her, but quickly learned that they should not even make an attempt. The blinding light of truth had manifested itself in a profound way, providing the unnamed cavedweller the powerful gift of clairvoyance. Upon realizing this, she immediately pledged loyalty to Lightseed, and began a mission to guide new Lightseers to the truth and peace that she had finally found.