Extremus: Year 104

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Tinaya never did figure out how to get back into the Bridger Section so her son could make a mirror call to the past. Security there is tighter than it ever has been, but that’s okay. Silveon was spiraling, and he wanted guidance, but he will be okay without it. He has his family and friends. Well...he has one true friend and peer. He has not bothered to make friends with anyone else, because they’re all so much younger. It wasn’t just romantic connections that he was potentially forgoing when he sent his consciousness back in time. He really is going to be okay, though. He decided to reassess his priorities, and recommit himself to his mission to help Waldemar. Even though Audrey is the one who is closer to him now, they’re all still friends, and Waldemar needs all the guidance he can get, even if he doesn’t know it. This mission is more critical than ever, because today is the day that Waldemar announces his campaign. If he goes through with his speech, he will be the only one in the race, and that’s because the position he’s vying for doesn’t exist.

“First Chair?” Tinaya questions.

“Yeah, that’s why he said,” Silveon confirms. “He’s been working on this operation in secret. That must be what this press briefing is about. He didn’t specifically say as much, but what else could it be? He still won’t give me any details, but I suspected that it was about finding another girl to get pregnant, so I guess I’m relieved.”

They both look over at Audrey, who responds, “I’ve been laying it on pretty thick. He can pretty much have me whenever he wants. Before you ask, I am on birth control now. I don’t want to get pregnant again, and he doesn’t want that either. The way he sees it, this is the best outcome. He gets the sympathy votes for the dead kid, and bonus, he doesn’t have to pretend to raise the thing. Silvia’s job is done.”

A twitch of a smile flashes on Silveon’s face at the sound of the baby girl who was named after him. It falls back down, however, when he realizes that she’s also talking about her sex life with the enemy. “Just be careful.”

Audrey nods solemnly, but doesn’t say anything.

“How is he gonna pull this off?” Tinaya asks, getting back to the matter at hand.

“He took a page out of your book, mama,” Silveon goes on. “Speaking of the way he sees it, the way he sees it, you were able to abolish the position, so he should be able to revive it.”

Tinaya shakes her head. “I was able to abolish it because I was First Chair. It was in my best interest to keep it, which means I was sacrificing something. I actually rose in popularity that day. He’s asking to bring it back so he can gain power. It’s the exact opposite of what I did. And anyway, I thought he was destined to become captain.”

“We’re in uncharted territory,” Silveon replies. “We have changed so much in the chain of events, but I don’t think I’ve done much to change him. I suppose I managed to lure him away from the captain’s chair, but I couldn’t take away his ambition. He has evidently set his sights on civilian government instead.”

“And he’s going right to the top,” Tinaya says, “to a job that he would first have to create in order to get it.”

“That’s from your book too,” Silveon says sadly. “Before you, there was no such job as Director of Population Maintenance.”

Tinaya exhales exasperatedly. She came to hate that title. It’s too broad. She was there to promote population growth, but it could easily be reversed to oversee population control, and that should never be the objective.

Arqut shifts awkwardly. It was he who came up with the title in the first place, and he too regrets it. “I’ve already submitted a provision to the charter that, if the need for the job arises again, it should be changed to Director of Family Planning. That way, the change will outlive me and-or my tenure as Superintendent.”

“Thank you, honey.” Tinaya turns back to the kids. “How do we stop him, or should we?”

“I honestly don’t know,” Silveon replies. “I’m starting to think that everything we do is a waste of time. Maybe what we should really do is flip to Plan C.”

Audrey shakes her head as she suddenly looks exhausted.

“Wait, what is this Plan C?” Tinaya questions. “Plan B was straight up murdering him. Would you also kill his mother? What’s Plan Z, then, destroying the whole ship?”

“They don’t go in order,” Silveon explains. Plan C is not selected because Plan B fails. It’s a secondary alternative, equally as likely as the first alternative. It involves shifting focus away from my relationship with Waldemar, and towards the creation of the resistance.”

“Unlike before,” Audrey adds, “these resistant forces would be composed of those who have forewarning on what’s to come. Rather than being reactionary, and fighting an uphill battle, like we did in the original timeline, we would be in a place of advantage. That’s the hypothesis anyway.”

“It sounds too late for that,” Arqut reasons. “If he’s already campaigning, has enough damage not been done?”

“It’s the perfect time,” Audrey contends. “Imagine going back to 1922 and trying to warn people that Hitler’s a bad guy. They would be all, who the hell are you talking about? We were always going to have to wait before the right circumstances triggered Plan C. Though your logic is sound, we do have a short window. Gaining power is one thing, but gaining popularity could make forming this preemptive resistance all but impossible. We have to decide now.”

“We?” Tinaya echoes. “We’re just the old fogies. We can give you advice, but you’re the ones with the intel, and it’s become quite clear that we barely know anything about what you’re doing here, or why. How many of these letter plans are there? Hopefully not the full twenty-six.”

Silveon and Audrey exchange a look.

“I don’t even wanna know,” Tinaya says before they can elaborate.

“I will say,” Arqut begins, “at the risk of overstepping, there is no coming back from Plan C. Once you go down that road, you lose all friendly ties with Waldemar. He may not find out that you’re a part of it right away, but he will one day. You’ll recruit someone that you were wrong to trust. Or someone will turn on you. Or you’ll just slip up and say the wrong thing to him. Once you become his enemy on the outside, you lose all hope to change him. Plan A doesn’t have to lead to Plan B, but if Plan C fails, it might. Success means either putting him in hock, or in the proverbial ground. There’s not much wiggle room.”

“That’s why I hate it,” Audrey tells them. “That, and we already tried it. Sure, maybe we started too late, but I’m not sure a time advantage gives us that much of an edge. It will just make him angry. Leona’s Rules of Time Travel, Number Fifteen, don’t antagonize the antagonist. Just like killing him, there’s a reason it’s not Plan A.”

“There’s a way to have the best of both worlds,” Tinaya suggests cryptically. “You could continue with your camaraderie with Waldemar, trying to keep him on the best path while recognizing that his personality is out of your control, and you can’t stop his thirst for power. Meanwhile, completely separately, there is a slow-burning faction of dissidents, ready to keep him in check from the outside. You wouldn’t be involved with them. You would feed them information, but get none in return. This would allow you to keep focus, and keep them from ever needing to be activated.”

“That’s shockingly diabolic of you, mother,” Silveon points out.

“Yeah,” Audrey agrees.

“It is.” Arqut is less impressed, and more disquieted. “Who would do this? Surely not us, we’re an obvious connection.”

“No, we’re too old anyway,” Tinaya says. “I have one or two people in mind.” There’s a knock at the door. No doorbell, no proximity alert; just a knock. It surprises and confuses all of them. “Thistle, what gives?” Tinaya asks to the aether.

“The Thistle Central Systems Intelligence is presently offline for maintenance. For basic assistance, please state your query using clear and unambiguous syntax.”

“Do you think they found out that he’s real?” Tinaya asks as she’s heading towards  the door.

“He’s real?” Audrey asks, quickly having to accept the fact that no one would answer her.

Pronastus Kegrigia smiled from the other side of the doorway. “I believe that I’m supposed to be here?” Yeah, he was Tinaya’s first idea. They know they can trust him, because he’s the one who took care of little Silvia while they were waiting to deliver her to Verdemus. He’s always felt like the anti-Waldemar—just as ambitious, but with an ethics book in his hand. Once Tinaya and Arqut are dead and gone, he may be the only person left on the ship who would be conceivably powerful enough to counteract anything that Waldemar might try to do. It’s also hard to keep secrets from him, which Tinaya recognized from the start. She knew that it was better to keep him on her side than let him end up in opposition.

They get Pronastus up to speed, but they leave a lot out. They take Tinaya’s advice to her son seriously, and just claim to have knowledge of the future. Nobody is a time traveler, and nobody is older than they look. Waldemar is a known future threat who can’t be allowed to assume full control over this ship. That doesn’t mean he can be stopped by any means necessary, and it doesn’t mean his power can be blocked entirely. Pronatus will have to carry a heavy burden, navigating this new mandate with his regular future duties as some kind of official pathfinder for Extremus. He literally asked for it, though. He came to this suite looking to help, and they’re going to take him up on his offer. There is still plenty of time for him to back out. He’s young, and Waldemar has not yet shown himself to be a genuine threat, at least not in this timeline.

It’s time for the press conference, so they head to the briefing room, but separately of course. Audrey is expected to stand next to Waldemar, quietly like a good partner. Silveon has an invite because he’s a friend, but there aren’t enough seats, so he joins the people who are just standing against the back wall. Pronastus told them that he is going to use his pathfinding powers to sneak in, but doesn’t elaborate on what that will entail. Waldemar is not there when they arrive, but everyone else is. Lataran waves Tinaya and Arqut over from the front row, having saved them seats.

Captain Jennings is the last to walk in. He sits on Lataran’s other side, in a seat that is always reserved for him, even if he’s the one standing on stage. He doesn’t know what any of this is about, and he doesn’t know all that much about Waldemar, but due to the latter’s sad history with baby Silvia, he was granted permission to hold this conference. Obviously, they can’t just let anyone stand up there and say whatever they want, but you don’t have to be super famous to make an appointment request either. Children have presented their book reports, and shared interests clubs have used this space to attract new members. It’s always broadcasted, but people don’t have to watch if they don’t want to. It’s usually not quite this full during such mundane announcements and speeches, which speaks to Waldemar’s social magnetism. He’s getting better and better at drumming up intrigue, and people are all terribly curious as to what he’s about to say. Some are members of the press, while others are just well-connected, and work in related fields.

Finally, Waldemar steps out from the backroom, and approaches the microphones. Audrey mousily walks in, and stands obediently at his flank. She’s changed her clothes into something more stylish, and quite frankly, more revealing. He does like her body, even if he can’t form a healthy emotional attachment to her. He clears his throat, and taps on one of the mics. “Thank you all for coming, ladies and gentlemen. I understand that you’re all very busy, and I won’t waste too much of your time. There has been a lot of talk lately about what I’m going to do with my life. I didn’t receive high marks in school, and I did not choose a specialized track. I considered pursuing a career on the crew, even maybe to one day become a captain. In the end, I just wanted to keep my options open. This has led many of you to believe that I have my eyes set on the passenger government. I’m not ruling that out, but it’s also not my concern right now.” Waldemar looks over his shoulder at Audrey.

She breathes deeply through her nose, and forces a smile, but hopefully most people see it as sincere.

Waldemar smiles widely, and looks back at the audience and cameras. “This is about what truly matters...family. I have gathered you all here today to declare my undying love for Audrey Husk, and to announce to the world that we...are getting married.”

Shit.

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Microstory 2177: Dark About a Lot

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Wow. Just. Wow. These are some nice offices in the jail administrative section. We’re on the top floor of the building, and have a great view of the skyline, as well as some greenery. I prefer the latter, but some prefer the former, so it’s the best of both worlds. They’re giving us an entire conference room, which is big enough to accommodate our eighteen person team. I have my own office that comes right off of that room, and the facilities department has set aside four other workspaces for us. Each subdepartment will be able to separate themselves from the group, and focus on their own stuff. At the moment, the only thing that’s ready is the conference room, since it’s pretty much already configured the right way. It’s lined with bookshelves, so I’m thinking that it used to be a library, which they eventually started using for meetings, but I don’t know what has happened with all that since. It was reportedly pretty dusty in here. I said that I wanted to physically work on a lot of this myself, but I am not bummed out that they did all the cleaning for me. I’m more of a designer and arranger than a cleaner. I have really bad allergies, and I just don’t care for it. I’m weird that way. I’m truly grateful for everything that everyone has done in preparation for this new project, and I’m excited to get started. I spent all day yesterday slowly moving things around in my office, and the other four shared spaces. We need a few things that the jail doesn’t already have on hand for us, like computers, and other various things. I drew up a list so facilities and IT will be working on procuring new equipment and supplies this week. I still had plenty to do on that front today.

Tomorrow, I’m probably going to work exclusively on building out the staff. Back when I was looking for a job—or rather, when employers were looking for me—I was able to tell you about them, to some vague degree. I didn’t think that it was a problem to say this and that about a hypothetical position that I was probably not going to end up taking, as long as I didn’t specify which company was offering. Even if the name of the company ended up being publicized, it probably would have been all right. Now I’m on the other side of that, preparing to interview individual innocent people for my team. So I won’t be telling you anything about the candidates during this process. I won’t even say anything about the ones that I hire, unless they unambiguously tell me it’s okay, and probably not even then. They have a right to their privacy, and they shouldn’t feel uncomfortable applying because something may come out about them. Even if it’s good, it’s not my place to divulge it, whatever it may be. They have the ability to set up their own social media accounts, and build their own websites, should they choose to. Of course, confidentiality being a thing, there’s a lot more about my new job that I won’t be able to say. The jail is now my client, and while they’re fully aware of who I am, and what I do online, they’ve not given me permission to say absolutely anything and everything about what we’re doing here. So be prepared to be left in the dark about a lot. I’ll keep you up to date as much as I can, but my posts could get shorter if everything that I start to deal with is strictly privileged information. They could, therefore, get boring if all I can talk about is my private life. The work I’m getting ready to do here, I believe, is in the interest of the public good, so I’m all right letting my site suffer in service to that. Anyway, I’m tired, so I better grab some dinner, and call it a night.

Microstory 2122: Sounds So Familiar

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Two months ago to the day, I wrote a tiny little baby post for babies about the beginning of my search for an apartment. I wasn’t ready to put any money down, and by the time I was sturdier on my feet, I was getting sick, and then running away from all of my many, many problems. So none of that came to fruition. Back then, I was hoping to find a place that was close to where I worked, but that’s not liable to be an issue this time around. Organizations are approaching me from all over the country, and one of them is international. Well, it’s Toronto, which we practically share with Canada. It might not matter where I live if I end up being offered a position at one of these places. They’re fully aware of where I’m located, and also that I can’t leave. That’s the best part. I used to be so nervous about having to be truthful during the application and interview process, not that I was always in as bad of a position as I am now, but it’s a relief to have my ugliness out in the open. I don’t have to worry about them asking me if I’m good with people, because I think we all know that I’m not. I don’t have to wonder if they’re going to pick up on my autism, or if I should say something ahead of time, so they don’t interpret my behavior as just being an aloof jerk. They can read all about it and more on my website, so if they let me get to the point where I’m answering questions directly, and they miss something about me, it’s kind of their fault, right? They all know that I’m in intermittent jail right now, and are still offering me to start the process.

Anyway, I’m talking too much about my job prospects. This is meant to be about my hunt for a place to live. While I’m not in jail, I’m still staying in the hotel, but the FBI’s patience is wearing thin on that. Or at least, I assume that it is. No one has said that I’ve overstayed my welcome, but you don’t want it to get to that point, do you? That’s something you fix before it becomes an issue. So I want to get out of here, and start making my own way. God, this all sounds so familiar from earlier this year. Once again, I have a benefactor who I can’t tell enough how appreciative of them I am. I’m looking for a job, and a place to live, and I almost feel like I’m coming down with something. My former employer even says that they’ll loan me last month’s and first month’s rent at a new place once the FBI stops covering, as long as I have a job offer in my inbox. I don’t even have to take the job, though I’ll probably accept one of these soon. I can’t imagine that the interviews are as important as they usually are, because as I said, everything about me is out there for anyone to read at will. That’s why they’re reaching out to me in the first place, because they already know what I’ve been going through. They really shouldn’t be surprised by anything I say at this point. Today is all about finding somewhere to dig in, while tomorrow is filled with virtual interview after virtual interview. No one is making me go in to their offices in person, which will make the process a whole lot smoother. Unlike some people, I’ll be wearing pants throughout. I know that it’s, like, a thing, to make conference calls in only your underwear, but that’s not me. I just wanna put that out there. I don’t find being half comfortable any more comfortable than being totally uncomfortable. That didn’t make any sense, but you know what I mean.

Microstory 2027: Connecticut

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A couple years after the business trip that my papa took to Georgia, he had to go on another one. There were probably more in between, but they weren’t to states that he hadn’t been to before. This time he had to go to Connecticut. It wasn’t for testing a new submarine this time, though. This time, he went to the annual New England Submarine and Submersible Conference and Symposium. Wow, that was long, wasn’t it? The one that my papa worked for wasn’t the only company that designed and built submarines. There were a bunch of others, and they liked to come together to talk about the things that they do. I didn’t hear my papa talk about this trip, but my dad remembers him saying that parts of it were interesting, but parts of it were boring. They would hold the conference every year all over the USA, but he wouldn’t normally go, because he was too busy with the actual work. It didn’t actually take place on the mainland in Connecticut. It was on Fishers Island, which is a part of Connecticut. It’s about two miles away over the ocean, so he took a ferry to get there. It’s funny to me, I would have said they should take submarines instead, but maybe they just didn’t think of that.

Microstory 1989: Senior Moment

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IC Commissioner: Investigator Blass. Welcome to my office. Have a seat.

Blass: Thank you for having me. I have always respected and admired your work.

IC Commissioner: Yes, yes, very good, thank you. I called you in today to fill you in on what’s been going on with our investigation into the...traitors and spies that you discovered in our midst regarding these um, O—Ocho, uhh...

Blass: You can just call them aliens, sir.

IC Commissioner: Aliens, right. Obviously I don’t know much about them, but I’ve been briefed; emphasis on the brief. It would seem that we’re in the middle of a secret cold civil war. Can you believe it? We have departments undermining other departments, elected officials making hush-hush deals. The corruption is rampant, and I’m about to get fired because I’m not doing my job.

Blass: I don’t agree with that, sir.

IC Commissioner: Well, I think I do. I let it go this far somehow without realizing it, and the only way the Internal Compliance Commission survives to fight another day may be for me to step down. But that’s neither here nor there. I think it’s somewhere in the middle. Anyway, ‘nough jokes. You have continued to work with DExA, correct?

Blass: Yes, I’m still stationed there, even though everyone knows that I’m an internal investigator. Don’t worry, they’ve been very nice and accepting.

IC Commissioner: Good. I hope you understand, we couldn’t have you involved in the interviews we did with this Sergeant Sachs asshole, because of your slight conflict of interest. Such is the price of being embedded. Now normally, you would not be entitled to further details—you still aren’t—but I, and the rest of the team involved, feel that someone on that side of things ought to know what’s going on.

Blass: Okay.

IC Commissioner: Sachs does not consider himself to be a traitor. In fact, he keeps calling the interviewers traitors instead. We have finally figured out who he has been taking his orders from, and it could spell doom for our country.

Blass: I don’t know that I should hear this; it sounds far above my paygrade.

IC Commissioner: Not anymore. *hands him a document* You’ve been promoted. Congratulations Senior Internal Investigator Blass.

Blass: Oh. Thank you, sir. This is so unexpected. *pauses* In that case, who is it?

IC Commissioner: It’s Congressman Colonel Piers Jamison.

Blass: Holy Crap. The man prides himself in rooting out corruption.

IC Commissioner: I know.

Blass: He came up through the ICC.

IC Commissioner: I know.

Blass: No matter what, the ICC loses. We look bad whether we go after him or not.

IC Commissioner: That’s right.

Blass:*face sinks* That’s why I’m being promoted.

IC Commissioner: You’re being promoted because you’re smart enough to know why you’re being promoted; because only a Senior Investigator can go overt. Congratulations again, you’re our new spokesman. Your first press conference is tomorrow morning.

Microstory 1961: Alignment

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Reese: Is that everyone? Let’s see; one, two, three... Okay, we’re good. I understand that we all have a lot of work to do, but I think it’ll be worth it to take a few minutes for an alignment meeting to talk about what’s happening tomorrow. Some of you may have already heard that Director for the Office of Special Investigations, Lotte Washington is coming tomorrow for an inspection. I don’t want to scare you, but this is kind of a big deal. I’ve been told that she is here to inspect the remodel of our office space, and that it has nothing to do with us, but I think we all know that it’s not that simple, even if that really is the prime motivation. We will all be under a microscope tomorrow.

Yanna: Even you?

Reese: Especially me, as well as the other two main leaders here. Your behavior will reflect on us. Now, I’m not saying that any of you are behaving badly, but I do want to make sure that you’re extra careful in the hours leading up to her arrival, and obviously, while she’s here. Navin, I know that your naps have been cleared by medical, but is there any way that you could avoid them while she’s in the building?

Navin: If I can get a good idea of when she’ll come, I can be awake and alert for a sufficient amount of time. If there’s a lead team coming before her, that may be an issue.

Reese: There should be no lead team. She does not travel with a security contingency.

Celandine Robles: She may for this, though. Right or wrong, she may be uncomfortable around the freepersons, and feel compelled to take extra precautions.

Reese: That may be the case, but if it is, they’ll come with her, rather than ahead of time. Navin, we’ll make sure you get your rest, and take your medication, so you can be presentable with the time comes. That goes for all of you, you need to be presentable. We’ve been lax on the dress code, because I personally do not care, but when we have guests, you’ll need to be wearing nice clothes. Myka has agreed to visit your homes to take a look at your respective wardrobes. If need be, we’ll purchase one set of business casual for you. But only if you need it, and it will be a one time thing. Paychecks will start rolling in, and you should be good to go from then on out. Any other questions?

Henley Grahame: *raising her hand* Yes, I’ve been assigned to reception and switchboard, but we haven’t nailed down the procedures yet. I assume that mine will be the first face the Director sees tomorrow. I mean, I know how to greet people politely, but I’m worried there is some nuance that I’m going to miss, since it’ll be my first time.

Inge Flynn: Yours will not be the first face she sees. I’ve just been assigned internal security, and will be working with you at the front, at least for now. When Director Washington gets here, I’ll greet her in the parking garage, and escort her in. I’ll introduce you, but you won’t have to sign her in, or anything. If there’s blowback for us not having a badge printer yet, or really anything of that nature, I’ll take the heat.

Henley: Okay, I appreciate it.

Reese: Good questions, good answers. Anything else? [...] No? Cool. Like I said, this is a big deal. For most of you, there should be no reason to speak unless she or I ask you to. If she does indicate that you need to interact with her, of course do so respectfully, but don’t talk her ear off. Hopefully it will be quick and painless, and over quickly, and she’ll be pleased with what she sees. Until then, go on home early. We’ll see you tomorrow.

Microstory 1960: Checking In

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Reese: Good, you’re both here. Just checking in. We didn’t talk at all yesterday after everyone split up with their respective teams. Did everything go okay?

Myka: Yeah, no problems. Nothing to report.

Leonard: I have something to report.

Reese: What is it?

Leonard: The hacker is from another universe; evidently came here the same way I did, and it wasn’t her first time either. She’s been on this planet longer than any of us. I don’t know if the government knows this, or not. If they don’t, I think we shouldn’t tell them.

Reese: That’s...an interesting development. No, we should definitely not tell them. Out of everyone they hired for this new department, they were most worried about her. I would ask you to keep an eye on her, but I’m not going to talk to her about it for now.

Leonard: Understood.

Myka: You came in here already with a nervous look on your face, Reese. What’s up?

Reese: The OSI Director wants to speak with me. I don’t know what it could be about.

Myka: Well, I’m sure it’s about this, right? You just started a new department. We’ve not really done anything yet, but she probably wants to take your temperature on it. That’s what you’re doing with the two of us right now, yeah?

Reese: I’m hoping to get the three of us on the same page, in case something’s wrong. Leonard, what you told me about our hacker, that’s good. Is there anything else I should know? No matter how insignificant it may sound, we should share it.

Myka: Well, Navin really does take naps. He wasn’t joking about that.

Reese: Yeah, it’s a medical condition. He cleared that before he took the job.

Myka: Then I can’t think of anything else.

Leonard: You should talk to SI Eliot first. Take his temperature, if I’m using that idiom correctly. I’ve never heard it before.

Myka: That was right.

Reese: That’s a good idea. *dials Myka’s phone*

SI Eliot: *through the speakerphone* This is Eliot.

Reese: Hey, Hisham; it’s Reese. You got Myka and Leonard on the line too.

SI Eliot: What’s up?

Reese: We just wanted to touch base with you regarding this conference call that the Director requested for tomorrow. Do you know anything about that, and is there something I should know before that happens?

SI Eliot: Oh, it’s not a conference call. She’ll be coming down.

Reese: Okay, well, see, that worries me. We’re not really ready for prime time. Like, does she know about Misra’s naps? And Woodloch’s computer isn’t working right...

SI Eliot: This isn’t about you, Reese. She wants to see how the building turned out. If anyone gets in trouble, it’ll be the contractors we hired for the remodel.

Reese: Are you sure?

SI Eliot: I’m sure. Hey, I gotta jump on another call, but you’ll be fine. *hangs up*

Reese: Okay, now I’m really worried.

Leonard: Yeah. He’s lying.

Microstory 1951: Leader de Jure

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Reese: SI Eliot! Wait up. I’m glad I caught you.

SI Eliot: Is this urgent, Parsons? I’m about to step into a meeting with the Director.

Reese: It’s about the jobs you offered Mr. Miazga and Miss Tennison?

SI Eliot: You can just call them Leonard and Myka, Agent Parsons. We all know that you’re friends with them. I assume that you’re worried about what our angle is. I assure you that there is no nefarious purpose to our offers. Very few people know what we know, and we would like to keep it that way, at least for now. We believe that the two of them possess valuable skills and knowledge that we may need in the future.

Reese: Well, what about the others; the other three freewomen, and the escapees?

SI Eliot: They have received their own job offers.

Reese: Really?

SI Eliot: Yes. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I really must get in there.

OSI Director: It’s all right, Hisham. This meeting is about him, after all. He may as well be there. It’s not like I need your permission to proceed.

SI Hisham Eliot: Very well. After you, Agent Parsons.

Reese: *stepping into the conference room, and sitting down* This meeting is about me? In what context, may I ask?

OSI Director: How long have you been on loan to us from Fugitive Services?

Reese: A few months.

OSI Director: And before that? How long were you in FS?

Reese: About eleven years, sir.

OSI Director: That’s a decent run. *pauses* How would you like a job here?

Reese: I thought I did a job here, don’t I? My tenure was marked as indefinite.

OSI Director: That’s what I’m saying. Let’s define it. Let’s decide that you’re no longer on loan, but a fulltime permanent employee of the Office of Special Investigations.

Reese: This is...unexpected. I always assumed that I would go back. I never thought about doing anything else. I barely unpacked my belongings in my office here.

OSI Director: That’s probably for the best. If you agreed, we would give you a new one.

Reese: Sir?

Hisham: She wants you to lead the staff of a new department of national security, incorporating personnel and resources from a number of other branches and divisions. You would not be in charge of the office itself, but you would be managing the employees, which would include your friends, and the other...consultants. The National Commander has been discussing doing something like this with us, and the Assembly, for a while now. Officially, the name of this department would be the Department of Exogenic Affairs. Since there’s already a DEA, it would be known as DExA for short.

OSI Director: Does that sound like something that you would be interested in?

Reese: Again, this is quite the surprise. I suppose I should have guessed that something in government would change as a result of these developments, but I never thought I would be considered for a leadership role. I only have de facto experience.

OSI Director: We believe that’s enough. Why don’t you think it over, and get back to us in two days, okay? NatCo wants to get the ball rolling by the end of this month.

The Advancement of Mateo Matic: March 15, 2399

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Imani didn’t say much more about her religious faith, and how much she thinks it does, or doesn’t, have to do with time travelers. By the sound of it, some of the Word of Dalton is drawn from real life, and some of it is ripped straight out of pop culture from the main sequence. For instance, he tells a story that Leona recalls from an episode of Star Trek: The Next Generation, as if it were real. Similarly, this reality never had a version of Adolf Hitler, so Dalton apparently felt totally comfortable using hitler as an adjective to describe someone evil, or literal daemons from the bad place. Yes, he stole IP from The Good Place too. They probably should have read over the prooftext months ago, since it could have clues. Leona would do that now, but she’s busy.

Imani wanted a tour of the Superscraper, but didn’t have enough time for it, and still doesn’t today, which is good, because Leona scheduled an unrelated meeting. If she wants to turn the building into a refugee sanctuary, then she needs to get help from people who already work with refugees, and actually know what the hell they’re doing. They seemed amenable to the possibility of collaborating on the phone, but it was audio only, and they could have just been being polite. Been being? She needs to make sure she doesn’t talk like that during the meeting. She’s entering their offices now. Game face, Leona. Wait, stop! She didn’t mean that literally, but her ability interpreted it that way. That’s not her game face. That is Chief’s tight end and four-time Super Bowl champion, Travis Kelce. Leona face, Leona. There we go. Okay, now open the door, and if anyone saw,  pretend that it was just an optical illusion.

“Hello. Welcome to Homes for Humankind. Do you have an appointment, or would you like to volunteer?”

“I have a meeting scheduled with Yulian Văduva.” She checks her watch. “I’m about ten minutes early.

The receptionist blinks. “Hold on, I know who you are.”

“Yes.” Leona ran into a celebrity once, and she’s not talking about Juan Ponce de Leon, or the time she was on a fake cooking show with James Van Der Beek. In the reality where she didn’t meet Mateo until later in life, she found herself in front of comedian and actor, Heidi Gardner in line at Richard and Allen’s restaurant in the Plaza. There was no one else there at the time, and that was before that version of her found out that it was a hangout spot for time travelers. Heidi shook her hand politely and said hello, but Leona didn’t ask for a selfie, or anything like that, and Heidi didn’t offer. She seemed to want to be left alone, and Leona respected that. She was very nice to Richard when he took her order, and ate quickly, surely because she had to return to her busy life. Leona didn’t think that she would ever have to deal with anything like that. She’s famous in certain circles, like the planet of Dardius, but she’s never felt every eye in the world on her; not when the people whose eyes they belong to don’t know about time travel. This is so surreal. She’s being bashful about it.

“And you’re meeting with the big kahuna. Lucky you. A word of advice, don’t say anything about the Daltomist who visited your country yesterday. He’s not a fan of organized religion.”

“Don’t worry,” Leona said. “Neither am I.”

He nods. “I’ll let him know that you’ve arrived. You can have a seat over there.”

Leona barely has time to sit down before Mr. Yulian comes down from on high. “Mrs. Matic? It’s nice to meet you. Right this way, we’re in the big conference room today.”

“Okay,” Leona said. She follows him to the room, which she expects to be entirely empty. She thought it had something to do with the other rooms being booked, but nope, it’s completely full of people. They all look up at her when she stops in the doorway, some having to spin their chairs around to see. “Hi. Forgive me, I wasn’t prepared for this. It seems that our wires were crossed. I was under the impression that it would just be us, and maybe one associate of yours.”

“Wires were crossed,” he echoes. “Heh, I like that. I’m gonna steal it from you. Why don’t you have a seat? Yeah, right there at the head. Go on. Are you thirsty? We have water or tea.”

“I’m fine, thanks.” She sits down awkwardly in the incredibly comfortable chair. A conference room chair has no business being this soft. This is a place of business.

Yulian walks to the other side of the room, and flips on the TV. “Before we get to the pitch, I would like to show you something.” He presses a button that reveals the feed from the front door security camera.

Leona’s heart sinks. She really needs to get a handle on her new illusion power.

“Before every meeting with a potential partner or donor, we like to have a little internal pre-meeting. We leave the feed up to play in the background so we know when someone shows up. We never expected to see this.” He prepares to press another button.

“You don’t have to show it. I know what you saw.”

“Okay,” Yulian says with a smile. “Then I’ll show you this archive footage instead.” He changes the screen to a different camera. It’s high up on the roof, and showing the New York City skyline. “Wait for it...wait for it...” The Superscraper appears out of nowhere. “I assume what you did at the front door has something to do with what made this thing suddenly spring into existence?”

“It’s...maybe.”

“So there are others who can do the same thing?”

“...maybe,” she repeats.

He widens his smile. “We’re prepared to defect to your nation, and maybe even expand its borders. Did you know that you could do that? The original owner once owned a modest apartment complex in that spot where he provided a different kind of sanctuary; one that was designed to protect the worst criminals the U.S. has ever seen. He bought more land so he could spread his bullshit message to the masses, and now that it’s yours, you could do it again. But you could do it for the right reasons.”

“I can’t build another building like that,” Leona says. “I didn’t build this one.” She paused, and bobbed her head indecisively. “Or I did.”

“What does that mean? Do you have memory issues?”

“Actually, I think I’ll take that water now.”

The woman next to her slides her own glass over. “It’s clean. I didn’t take a sip of it yet.”

Leona took the glass, and downed it.

“Are you okay now?”

She clears her throat. “I don’t have memory problems. I’m a time traveler, and it’s not outside the realm of possibility that Future!Me constructed that building.”