Showing posts with label compromise. Show all posts
Showing posts with label compromise. Show all posts

Sunday, October 19, 2025

The Advancement of Mateo Matic: August 9, 2522

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Mateo and Angela stood before three of the launch pads. Two claimant shuttles had already arrived, and the last one was landing now. No one had exited yet, per the Vitalemusian instructions. A few minutes after all shuttles were down, the hatches opened at about the same time. Korali, Bronach, and Old!Oaksent began to walk down their respective ramps. They were each accompanied by six others. Also per instructions, they were allowed to bring one lieutenant, one assistant, and four personal bodyguards. They were also allowed to leave one or two pilots in their vehicles, to be protected by no more than two security officers. They took full advantage of their limitations, which suggested that they would have rather had even more people backing them up. That told them something about how this was probably gonna go.
As the claimants approached, medical professionals first handed them their breathing apparatuses, which only Korali refused. “Team Matic,” Bronach said to them. “You’re looking...partial.”
Korali looked around. “Where are the other parties?” Her voice sounded normal, and it didn’t seem like she was having an issue pulling in oxygen. She must also have an enhanced substrate of some kind. Interesting that the two Oaksents apparently did not, despite being nigh impossible to kill.
“The Anatol Klugman and the Revolumusians are landing in a different dome, next to the Vellani Ambassador,” Angela replied. “We are here to escort you to a neutral third dome, where discussions will begin.”
“We would like to rest first,” Old!Oaksent all but demanded. Tok’ra was not with him. He was supposed to be, but they received word earlier today that he had business to take care of elsewhere. Mirage expressed that everything was okay, and that she would join him as soon as she dropped off her crew.
“That’s not happening,” Mateo informed them. “Your journey on your ship was not taxing. You would have plenty of time to sleep. If you want Team Matic here...we’re here. And we’re only here today. You know that.”
Korali scoffs. “He’s weak, and he’s losing. He knows we can’t harm him here. He doesn’t want a few hours to rest. He wants a year.”
“He’s not getting it,” Mateo reiterated. “Follow me.” He began to walk away while Anglea shooed them forward, and took up the rear. Vitalemusian guards surrounded them on either side. They were not taking any chances in this very delicate situation. He led them to the land vehicle that they were going to take to get to the diplomacy dome. It was gigantic, and should be quite comfortable for them all.
When the claimants realized this, they pretty much all stopped at the same time. “I’m not getting in that thing,” Old!Oaksent insisted.
Mateo was confused. “We can’t walk,” Mateo tried to explain. “It’s, like, 50 kilometers.”
“Don’t they have trains here?” Bronach asked. “I thought that was the go-to way to get around a paraterraformed planet.” He winked, reminding them that he was well aware of Castlebourne, and its location.
Angela looked up at the shimmering dome above them. “This world isn’t paraterraformed. It’s naturally habitable enough. The plasma domes are here for defensive purposes only. You can’t build permanent structures on the surface as there is too much seismic activity. Land vehicles are the only way. They live in them.”
“How do you not already know this?” Mateo questioned. “Didn’t you found all these planets?” Bronach probably knew all this entirely, and was just trying to get a rise out of them.
“I didn’t give this one very much thought,” Bronach replied. “I’m only one man.”
“Two, actually,” Old!Oaksent corrected.
“Shut it, grandpa.”
“You’re both old,” Korali argued.
“Get in the car!” Mateo urged.
They relented, and let the guards help them climb in. They found their couches, and settled in. Yes, they were couches, instead of seats. This particular vehicle was designed to transport VIPs. They weren’t really VIPs now, though. It sometimes felt like the driver was running them over boulders on purpose, instead of choosing the smoother path.
About two hours later, they were at their destination, having had to drive slowly because of the instability of the ground, as Angela had explained. This was actually a little faster than the locals would normally go, but they were tracking the progress of the other parties, and wanted to arrive at the same time. The claimants tried to engage her and Mateo in conversation, but the latter two realized that there was no reason why they all had to occupy the same space. It was more than big enough for each party to have their own compartment, so he made the executive decision to separate everyone.
The other vehicle pulled up next to theirs, and everyone started getting out. The Vitalemusian guards tensed up into high alert, prepared to stop any violence. There was very little obvious hostility among the enemies, though. If Mateo had to guess, none of them wanted to appear to see the others as any significant threat. In order to maintain a façade of confidence and dominance, they had to make it look like their opponents meant very little to them. Interesting again, and it too said something about everyone’s strategy going into this. They were going for the same one, which how would that turn out? The non-claimants had one clear advantage, however, in that the Revolumusians only came as a primary diplomat and a lieutenant. They didn’t feel the need to bring their own security guards at all, which really showed how self-assertive they were, and how safe they felt. One point to the allies already, and talks hadn’t even begun.
Team Matic reunited with each other, along with Vitalie and Kivi.  The 31 of them walked together to a third vehicle, still surrounded by about as many guards. The place was even bigger than the transporters, and resembled a gigantic clam. It did have wheels, but there were no tracks in the dirt, giving them the impression that it wasn’t designed to move regularly, but only when necessary. This might have been a particularly geologically stable region of the planet.
The diplomacy room looked like it was specifically tailored for this occasion, and it genuinely might have been. This meeting was on the books for an entire year, so they knew how many people were going to show up. It was a round table, much like the one in the VA, but this could specifically hold fourteen members. Well, it could technically hold more, but it was clearly divided up with concave sections around the edge, each one large enough to accommodate the primary and lieutenant. The rest of each party sat at a half circle table behind them, almost kind of like a VIP area in a nightclub. The entourage, who weren’t expected to speak.
While Mateo and Romana hung back in their little pod, Leona and Angela sat in their designated spot at the big table. They waited there silently until realizing that everyone was staring at them. Leona spoke, not with awkwardness or confusion, but calm, grade school teacheresque inquisitiveness. “Are you expecting us to run the show?”
“That’s why you’re here,” Bronach responded.
It hadn’t been entirely clear what her role here was supposed to be, but she was prepared for this. She glanced at the other members, whose facial expressions implied that they agreed with Bronach’s assertion. “Okay.” She looked over at Vitalie. “I need them to have compatible personal devices; tablets or handhelds, or something.”
Vitalie looked up at the nearest guard, who unlocked a cabinet on the wall with his biometrics. He distributed seven phablets accordingly.
Leona went on, “please take a few moments to write down your goals here. Only one each. Tell us all what you want. You can say, we demand a bouquet of flowers or I wanna destroy the entire universe. It’s up to you what you choose—however insane or unreasonable it may be—but it must be singular, and genuine. Go ahead.” She simply typed PEACE on her own device.
Once they were all complete, Vitalie used her master device to project holograms in front of each party to display their response. Bronach wrote total control over the entire Goldilocks Corridor, and the safe return of all Exin defectors and hostages. Okay. Korali and Old!Oaksent both basically said that they wanted control over their half of the Corridor, suggesting that they had already been working on a deal to divide territories in some fashion. It also clearly told everyone that Bronach should end up with nothing. The resistance fighters from Revolumus wanted the dissolution of the Exin Empire, and for a fair republic to be erected in its place. All three claimants would be barred from so much as thinking about taking any part in the new government. The Verdemusian warriors didn’t care what the people in this sector of the galaxy did, as long as they left everyone else alone. They were evidently fine with an oppressive government if the Exins—or anything which might take its place—remained isolationistic. They were particularly concerned with the secure and successful dispersal of the modular ships in the Stargate project. Team Kadiar asked for safe passage within the Corridor to ferry any refugee who would like to leave for Castlebourne. She quickly added not hostages in response to Bronach’s message. Vitalie abstained from a response.
“All right,” Leona said. “Now we know where we’re starting from, which means we know how far apart we are. Our goal here should be the move everyone as close to the center as possible. You all want power that you can’t have at the exclusion of each other. My job is to see what we can do to make everyone both unhappy, and happy. I’m actually already seeing a potential solution, and your goals are probably not as distant as you think. I’ll hold off on judgment for now, though. First, we all need to spend some time making clarifications and elaborations.” She literally rolled up her sleeves. “Let’s get to it.”
They talked all day, barely taking any breaks. It wasn’t as hard as they assumed for people to start recognizing Leona’s idea, even without her ever saying it out loud. She was right that they could reach an agreement without making too many sacrifices. The main thing that some of them would lose was absolute supremacy. Even Korali and Old!Oaksent’s plan to divide territories assumed that each planet in that territory would want to follow their new, singular leader. The easiest decision they made was to appease the Verdemusians to halt all aggression from the Anatol Klugman warship. Verdemus was sufficiently far outside of the Goldilocks Corridor, and Extremus was not even a blip on their radar anymore as it had long since reached its destination, or at least attempted to. As far as Project Stargate went, the Corridor was obviously wholly off-limits, but so was a sizable bubble beyond that, which should insulate them from interference from worlds that Stargate did manage to settle. It was hard for the Exins to agree to allow the module that would be responsible for colonization here, but that was kind of a non-starter. The Anglos needed to follow their pattern as planned. Even if that meant staying dormant forever, they couldn’t just send that module somewhere else. The algorithm didn’t work like that. That’s what they claimed anyway.
Next came the hard part, which was the question of who would control all of these stars. The claimants all had rational reason to believe that it should be them, but if they didn’t find a peaceful way to govern, the Revolumusians weren’t going to let them relax. The rebels were friends with the crew of the Vellani Ambassador, which was still the most powerful ship in the universe, even compared with the Jameela Jamil. If Team Kadiar ever decided to stop transporting refugees, and start using their vessel as a weapon instead, no one would be able to stop them. As small as it was, its speed was unmatched, and nobody wanted to antagonize them, especially not after Angela strongly suggested that Ramses was developing an entire armada of slingdrive-equipped battleships. That wasn’t actually true, but it was believable enough, and unequivocally within his capabilities.
They could not complete all of the negotiations in only one day, but they did have a framework for one. The three claimants could maintain control over the sector as a Triumvirate, but planetary and local governance would be completely democratic, as overseen by a team of Revolumusians. It wasn’t apparent how exactly this would all work, but they would spend Team Matic’s interim year hashing out the details. They still hadn’t figured out how to handle the refugee issue, but Kivi pointed out that there would likely be fewer applications for emigration if the citizens were treated well. They would be happy, and not interested in leaving, as wherever they were now were their homes. It was hard for the claimants to believe this, and it was true that there was no guarantee, but they seemed to be opening their minds. This might actually work out.
Team Matic disappeared at midnight, confident that all would be resolved by the time they returned. Of course, though, their faith was unfounded. When did anything ever work out that well for them? They finally found out why Tok’ra was not present as the equivalent of Old!Oaksent’s lieutenant. He decided that this meeting did not have the right to speak for the entire Goldilocks Corridor. He had been back on New Welrios, rousing a new rebellion. They too wanted a seat at the table, and nobody was having it. Surprisingly, not even the Revolumusians thought that they deserved a voice. After all this work, war was closer than ever.

Sunday, August 17, 2025

The Advancement of Mateo Matic: July 31, 2513

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Come midnight central, Leona, Angela, and Romana didn’t jump forwards to the future, proving that they were no longer on their time patterns. That was a week ago. Mateo never did come through the lake. Something was terribly wrong on his end. Nerakali said that she would look into it, but communicating with the afterlife simulation was tricky. It still existed in another universe, and getting through that Angry Fifth Divisioner’s thick quintessence membrane wasn’t easy. They took a suite in the Crest Hotel, and had sort of been lounging about, trying to wrap their brains around their new reality. Mateo was dead, and probably never coming back, and they were stuck in the present for the rest of their lives. It made them feel uncomfortable, even Romana, who should have been more used to it.
Leona had fallen asleep on the couch in the middle of the day, but something woke her up. “What’s that noise?” she groaned, not even opening her eyes.
“Sorry, I’m just watching TV,” Romana said, turning it down. “I didn’t know it would get so loud at this part.”
Bleary-eyed, Leona propped herself up on one shoulder, and tried to focus on the screen. “Is this SG Multiverse?”
“Yeah, did you watch it way back when?”
Leona chuckled and pointed. “That happened to me.”
“What?”
“What she’s doing right now. I did that. I had to cut my legs off. It was based off this show.”
Romana looked at her funny. “Are you messing with me?”
Angela walked in from the other room. “Mister Stark,” she began. “I don’t feel so good.” Dark particles swarmed around her, and she disappeared.
Leona barely reacted. She just looked over at her daughter. “Well. Boyd better have a damn good reason for this.” They both disappeared through dark particles too.

“The thing you have to understand about sling travel is that it’s not as quick as everyone thinks. It’s more like you leave time, and your mind can’t comprehend that. It can’t reconcile existing without time. It may be impossible for a human consciousness to interpret anything beyond four dimensions as anything but instant. Then again, we’ve been to the outer bulk before, and time has passed—can you hand me that drewscriver?” That wasn’t only a spoonerism. The drewscriver was a fanciful embossing tool invented in the late 21st century that could pull ferromagnetic metals and metamaterials upwards at precision scale. It was typically used to stamp industrial coding, but could also just be used to create texture for aesthetics. “Time has passed,” he repeated, “so I don’t know what that’s about. What I do know is that the way the slingdrives work, you actually spend a lot of time in the universal membrane, but you don’t remember it. It might even essentially be an eternity, but if thought stops, and metabolism stops, it’s like it never happened. You feel me?”
“I just push these buttons and tell machines to build domes,” Hrockas replied as if he were an idiot. It was obviously a lot more complicated than that, and he had to have a certain level of intelligence to even get this far, but point taken.
Ramses finished his finishing touches, and set the box back down. “There it is. The escape module.”
“That’s not big enough for a person,” Hrockas pointed out.
“No, I told you, that’s not—oh, you’re joking.”
“So. If what happened to you in the future happens again, all of your supplies will automatically be spit out of these pocket dimension things through this thing.”
“Not all of the supplies, just the essentials,” Ramses clarified. “Which I guess is pretty much everything. What else are we gonna put in there?” Ramses tapped on his wrist interface and whistled for effect. The escape module disappeared, tucked away safely in its dedicated pocket. “Oo, I feel heavier,” he quipped.
“Does that mean you’re finally ready to go?”
“No time like the present, even if 2396 isn’t my present.” Ramses engaged his new EmergentSuit, and walked towards the slingdrive, which was already programmed to send him back to the future. “Hey, man. Thanks for letting me use this dome for my new-slash-old lab. I didn’t want it to interfere with the lab that I end up building in my past-slash-future.”
“Mi Dome Eleven is su Dome Eleven. It’s been a hell of a year, Rambo.”
Ramses smiled as he stepped into the chamber, and turned back around. “Did you ever decide what you’re gonna do with it once I’m gone? I don’t remember what it ends up being in the future. You stop using numbers when you come up with names.”
Hrockas smiled back. “I’m thinking that it’s going to be a scavenger hunt, or something. The terrain has lots of natural corners.”
“Interesting. See ya in a hundred and sixteen years.”
“Apparently, I’ll see you in seventy-nine.”
“True. Hey, Thistle...” Before Ramses could execute a command, dark particles started to swirl around him.
“Is it supposed to look like that?” Hrockas questioned.
“No, this isn’t right! I don’t know what’s happening! Thistle, lock down the la—!” He disappeared.

Marie and Olimpia appeared from their swarm of dark particles and landed somewhat roughly on the ground next to the rest of Team Matic. They were surprised, and a little embarrassed, having been wearing their pajamas when it happened. Well, Olimpia was in her pajamas. Marie looked like she was auditioning for a jungle porno.
“Yoink!” Mateo exclaimed. “Nailed it.”
Everyone steadied themselves. They had all traveled through dark particles before, but this time was more turbulent. “You did this?” Leona asked.
“I stole his power,” Mateo said with a shrug. “NBD.”
“You can have it,” Boyd said sincerely.
“At least someone can still do it. We’ve been off our pattern for a week,” Romana lamented.
“It’s been a year for me,” Ramses one-upped.
“Boyd,” Mateo scolded.
“This isn’t my fault,” Boyd insisted. “I told you, work backwards to find him in the timestream, then once you do, go back further to see how long he’s been there. I told you that,” he reiterated.
“Oh, yeah, you did say that.”
“It’s fine, I was working on something. New upgrades. I even built a new lab. Actually, since I was in the past, it’s older than the last one, so... We can check it out if you want.”
“We need to make a decision first,” Mateo explained. “Boyd has something to say. Boyd?” he prompted.
Boyd looked at the ground abashedly for a moment. He then reached up to squeeze the collar of his shirt. A hologram over his face flickered before collapsing entirely to reveal his true face underneath. He still looked like himself, but crystal shards were embedded in his skin. It looked very painful.
“Ooo, that’s gotta hurt,” Leona noted with nurse-level concern.
“It’s not that bad.”
“He came out like this when we came back from the afterlife simulation,” Mateo explained. “I tried to kind of...remove them with dark particles, but I still don’t understand what they can do, and what they can’t.”
“It’s not something you learn,” Boyd said as he was putting the holographic illusion back up. “You build your intuition around it.”
Mateo nodded. “He is a living temporal energy crystal now. He believes that he can restore your powers, but that he would have to restore them all. You can’t just get back the teleportation and Alyssa’s lightbending. It’s all or nothing. You would be back on the pattern.”
“Is that even a choice?” Leona asked.
“We’ve been through this before, but this is another opportunity to leave. You probably can’t get Alyssa’s powers back, but Ramses could just build you new bodies with teleportation capabilities, and isn’t that really all you need? You don’t have to skip time. We got used to it, but it’s also been really annoying at times.”
“Can he...remove it from you?” Romana asked him.
“I don’t think so,” Mateo replied with a shake of his head. “I was already dead when the crystal was destroyed. I wasn’t affected by it. This is more of a reversal of what was done as a result of the lemon juice explosion, and it was only done to the six of you. And Octavia, I guess, but who cares about her?”
“We’re not gonna leave you behind,” Olimpia argued, stepping closer to him. She wrapped her arms around his waist. “I’m not done with you yet.”
“Let’s put it to a vote,” Marie suggested. “Raise your hand if you want to stay off the pattern.”
No one raised their hand.
“Boyd?” Leona asked. “Could you put yourself back on the pattern? I’m just asking. You decide whatever you want...”
“I don’t know, but I doubt it. I’ll explain why later, but I think it would be like trying to get a lighter to light itself on fire. It don’t bend that way.”
“Are you upset by that?” Marie pressed.
“It is what it is. I’m the one who poured the lemon juice. Good or bad, these are the consequences, and I’ll live with them.” Then he chuckled for some reason.
“How does it work?” Angela asked. “Do you just...stare at us with your crystal face?”
“Same as when it was a regular crystal on its own,” Boyd corrected. “You’ll touch my face, and I’ll transfer the energy to you. At least that’s what my intuition says. I’ve obviously never done this before.”
“There’s something else,” Mateo started. “It might change your mind, so just give me one last chance.” They all agreed nonverbally, so he led them down the hill, and then down the trail. They were in Canyondome, which was just a naturally-formed canyon on Castlebourne. It wasn’t even the largest one. It was only the largest one that still fit within the radius of a standard-sized dome. It was particularly deep, though. They were standing just over 14.5 kilometers below the edge of the canyon, which meant that they were 56 kilometers from the top of the dome.
They came ‘round the bend to find a man chained to a stake in the ground. He was sitting quite comfortably in a lounger, and seemed none too bothered by it, though he apparently couldn’t leave. “Is that...?” Olimpia began to ask.
“What’s Old Man Bronach doing here?” Leona questioned.
“I resurrected him,” Mateo answered. “We’re gonna help him regain power in the Goldilocks Corridor from his quantum duplicate.”
“Why the hell would we do that?” Marie asked.
“Because he’s the lesser of two evils,” Mateo claimed. “Some people in the Exin Empire don’t want an Oaksent to be in power, and we’ve helped them escape. Some, however, are true believers, and we’ll probably never be able to change their minds. So we compromise. We install this version on the throne, and in exchange, he doesn’t actively stop the rescue efforts of the Vellani Ambassador.”
Leona looked down at the Oaksent. “Is this true? Can you be trusted with this?”
Bronach grinned. “There’s a catch.”
Mateo sighed. “Anyone who wants to leave is welcome to leave, but he is free to...repopulate his worlds the way he did it the first time.”
“We’re allowing him to breed a new generation of sycophants?” Leona was disgusted.
“We can’t stop him unless we kill him,” Mateo argued. “But if we kill him, his most loyal subjects will just do it anyway, and the ensuing war could be devastating for the whole galaxy. We’re trying to end the Ex Wars, not make them worse. As I said, it’s a compromise. I don’t like it, but it’s the best I could do. There’s a loophole, though. He’ll accept your counsel, but only while you’re in the timestream. If you get back on my pattern, we only have influence on his decisions once per year.”
“Whose influence?” Leona asked. “Anyone on Team Matic.”
Mateo nodded. “The offer extends to anyone currently on Team Matic, including Boyd. It’s not the team itself. I had him sign an itemized list. We’re all on it.”
A lightbulb clicked on over Leona’s head. “Ramses is on the list?”
“Of course he is,” Mateo replied.
Ramses was hurt. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
“No reason,” Leona answered. “I accept these terms.” She spun around, and placed both hands on Boyd’s cheeks. She then pulled his head down to her level, and planted a kiss on his lips, no tongue. Those standing at the right angle saw technicolors transmit from his crystalline face to hers before quickly dissipating.
“I never said we had to kiss,” Boyd reminded her once she let go.
“Just something to remember me by. I mean, something for me to remember you,” she said solemnly. After a beat, she spun back around. “Who’s next?”
They all took their turns, not even knowing what Leona had in mind to keep Bronach in line. They each gave Boyd a kiss, because monkey see, monkey do. Most of them were pecks. Romana’s was more than that. She only stopped when her father cleared his throat suggestively. Ramses was last, still nervous about Leona singling him out regarding the Bronach contract. He evidently got his powers back just in time. Because shortly afterwards...Boyd fell down and died again.

Tuesday, December 10, 2024

Microstory 2297: Found a Happy Medium

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Yesterday, I announced that the Kansas City Metro’s response to Nick and Dutch’s passing would be a sort of forum where people could come up on stage, and say whatever they were feeling. I didn’t get into the details before, but everyone who asked to do this was going to have to submit an application at least the day prior, explaining what they were going to say. Then, while each speaker was up at the mic, the next one would be experiencing a screening process to make sure that they weren’t planning on doing something inappropriate, like a striptease, or a racist rant. Of course, they could always lie and switch it up once they got their turn, but we believed that we could have made it work. Sadly, most people online did not take to this idea. They thought it was stupid, dangerous, or just totally irrelevant. We hear you, and we see you, so we’ve changed our plans. We’re not going to be doing that, but we’re not going to be doing nothing either. We’ve found a happy medium. The two of them touched many people’s lives while they were on Earth, and their positive impact could be felt everywhere. We are in the process of contacting everyone that they knew while they were here. It is only they who will be speaking at the event. I appreciate all of you speaking out for your truth, and clearing a path for a better concept than we originally had. This has not set our schedule back. We will still be holding the event on Saturday, the 21st. We’re not yet sure where it’s going to be, though. A sports stadium would have a lot of room, but both of them hated sports, so we are sure that we want to do that. Y’all are good at giving advice. Where do you think we should hold it?

Tuesday, September 3, 2024

Microstory 2227: Die Eventually Too

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The hospital board has come to a decision. Well, it’s a compromise, really. Since Nick is terminal, and all that we can really do for him is keep him comfortable, and safe from secondary infections, he will be allowed to return home for the time being. He and I will not be alone, though. While I’ll continue to live there, and be available 24/7, a nurse will be coming in every morning for a ten-hour shift. I can provide him with his basic needs, but there are some things that I can’t do, and I think that the hospital wants to cover all the bases. There is no additional cost for this service. It’s a sort of compensation for the generous contributions to science that he’s making by donating his still living body now, and his deceased body in the future. We shall see how it goes, though I’m pretty optimistic about it. This is only a tentative plan, though. If something goes wrong while I’m here, but the nurse is not—or even if the nurse is here too—then they might move him to the hospital for good. The sad thing is that something bad probably will happen eventually. This is all about putting off the inevitable, which may make you wonder, why not just go ahead and check in now, just to be safe? Well, if we surrender to that, why don’t you check into the hospital right now, because you’re going to die eventually too. Life is about living it, and everyone has the right to determine for themselves what that means, and where to do it. Yes, he’ll likely have no choice but to get a room eventually, but why lower his morale now when we have the ability to maintain his high spirits? Anyway, he’s having some trouble speaking these days, but he’s found ways to vocalize his thoughts to me, even while he struggles, so I think I’m going to be able to use his words for tomorrow’s posts.

Friday, September 22, 2023

Microstory 1980: Cover

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Reese: How are we lookin’?
Micro: Fully secure...virtually. I can’t attest to the physical component. So if they find us, it won’t be because someone traces my signals. We’re ghosts. I’ll get the ceramics.
Reese: *phone rings* So if I answer this call, I’ll be fine?
Micro: Without a doubt.
Reese: *answers the phone* Go for Parsons.
SI Eliot: *through the phone* Agent Parsons, where are you?
Reese: I’m afraid I can’t tell you that, sir.
*SI Eliot will continue to communicate via phone call for this conversation*
SI Eliot: Don’t make me laugh, calling me sir while you’re actively betraying the government. Come back in, and I’ll protect you.
Reese: That’s not going to happen. We can’t trust anyone.
SI Eliot: How do you know that you can trust each other?
Reese: I trust the freemen and women. I trust Leonard. I don’t trust anyone with current, or former, ties to the government. You’ll notice that Agents Altimari, Robles, and Flynn are not with us. They could be plants too, as could Dreyer.
SI Eliot: Washington agreed to conscript the freepersons for their low probability of being corrupt. And Robles, Flynn, and Altimari are my people. I trust them implicitly.
Reese: But we can’t trust you either, or Director Washington. She’s the one who assigned Sachs to us. It was always suspicious, and now we know why. We asked him about his loyalties. He said two things. First, he admitted to attempting to kill Vogel to protect his own identity, and second, he claimed to be a continuing patriot. That usually means he still answers to someone in the government. Until that person is found, along with all of their cohorts, we have no choice but to operate independently.
SI Eliot: It’s not me, and it’s not Washington.
Reese: Sure.
SI Eliot: Reese, if you do this, I can’t help you. You and your team will be considered enemies of the state. They’ll be branded as traitors, and hunted down with the full force of the law. Your old partner will probably ask to arrest you himself.
Reese: They’re not traitors, and neither am I. Think through this logically. The country is in trouble. Trust is in short supply, which leads to mistakes and general inefficacy.
Micro: *saluting* General Inefficacy.
Reese: *holding the mouthpiece* Shh. *to SI Eliot* More aliens are coming. I can feel it. The best thing we can do to stop them is to compartmentalize our forces. We need to learn to attack from all angles, because I can guarantee you that that’s what the Ochivari are gonna do. They’ve been found in Kansas and Wyoming. How long before it’s Indonesia? How long before Russia? What if they’re already working with the Chinese?
SI Eliot: What are you going to do for money?
Reese: *looks at Micro* We have that covered.
SI Eliot: *sighs* I’ve been asked to rein you in nonviolently. I can’t stop them from sending in the troops. How could you possibly hope to defend yourselves?
Reese: *looks at Anaïs* We have that covered too. Goodbye, Hisham. *hangs up*

Thursday, September 21, 2023

Microstory 1979: From the Shadows

Generated by Google Workspace Labs text-to-image AI software
Leonard: No, she’s still not here. Ophelia? Ophelia? Can you hear me?
Micro: *walking up from the shadows* I’m blocking all signals.
Leonard: Report.
Micro: *smiling* Report. You’re learning, young padawan. First off, are you okay? You, Ophelia, and the prisoner? How did you get back here?
Leonard: We used one of Anaïs’ contacts to get across the borders, and then a bus.
Micro: *nodding* I’m glad you’re okay. I wanted to help, but we couldn’t tip Sachs off. Not that it mattered. Parsons escalated things at the safehouse, and we were forced to reveal the truth in front of Sasho. We still don’t know if we can trust him. That’s why I asked you to come here. This was our only way to keep Vogel safe and alive until we can figure out how many moles there are left in the government. He is alive, isn’t he?
Leonard: He’s fine. He’s in a safehouse that I set up for myself while I was free, but before DExA began. *looking around* I assume this is yours?
Micro: All I could do was hope that your parolee told you where the Salmon Civic Center would be if we were in Salmonverse.
Leonard: We had lunch in this area once in my home universe. He pointed it out. Seemed innocuous and meaningless at the time.
Micro: I’m glad that he did.
Leonard: I’m taking Vogel to Parsons. Enough of this cloak and dagger crap. We are not equipped to hold onto the suspect on our own, and every day we spend in the cold gets us closer to being burned.
Reese: I’m pleased to hear you say that. *walks up from the shadows*
Leonard: This was all just a test?
Micro: Have you heard of Lima Syndrome where you’re from?
Leonard: No.
Reese: We don’t have it either. Apparently it’s when you start to sympathize with someone you have in captivity. I had to be sure you weren’t compromised. Or Ophelia.
Leonard: Oh, the Grapley Effect. Yeah, we have that.
Reese: *hands Leonard a folder* This is what we have on Sachs. I had a friend from my military days look into it independently to verify it. He’s been playing us the whole time.
Leonard: I assume he took a shot at Vogel to shut him up?
Micro: That’s our assumption as well. We need to find out what—and who—he knows.
Leonard: *looking over the documents* This begs the question...
Reese: Director Washington? She’s the one who assigned Sachs to our department. Yeah, I’m worried about her loyalties too. That’s not our job, though. The Internal Compliance Commission will investigate on their own.
Leonard: In the meantime, what happens to us?
Reese: We’ve been shut down. But there’s hope for us yet.
Leonard: In what way?
Myka: *coming out of the shadows with a bunch of others* We’re working out of here now. Congratulations, Miazga, you’ve just joined a rogue operation.
Leonard: Not my first.