Microstory 2248: Deliberately

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Hey, everyone, this is Kelly again. Things are not going well. As you may have realized, Nick is not well. We thought that we were totally past this, but we were wrong. He proved that he was once immortal by being cured of the prion disease, and now he’s incidentally proving that he’s no longer immortal by suffering from something else. We didn’t know what we were dealing with at first, but we were very worried for him. He’s been very fatigued and weak lately, which he attributed to a lack of consistent and comfortable sleeping situations. But that just didn’t seem to be enough to explain how dramatically he was declining. And then that last post. It was written so poorly, and wasn’t like him at all. We knew that something else had gone wrong; something specific that could be tested for, and not just remedied homeopathically. Everyone’s first thought was yet another pathogen of some kind, since he seems to have become a magnet for them. I’m sure that a lot of you were all thinking the same thing, as his posts were reminiscent of the kind that he wrote during other infections. That’s not what it is, though, and not because he’s run out of those. Some of you seem to feel like he can’t get another infection, because he’s already had every kind, but that’s not how it works. He’s had every classification. He could get a thousand different ones over the course of the next half century, and he will still not have contracted everything that the world has to offer. And you can become reinfected with the same exact disease anyway; we’ve never cured any of them. But no, that has nothing to do with it anyway. It’s poison. He has been poisoned. The hospital ran a battery of tests, and came to the conclusion that it’s an organophosphate. Don’t ask me to say that out loud. They are commonly found in pesticides, which is why the majority of patients live or work on farms, or in facilities would use these pesticides, or which take part in the manufacturing of them. But those are not the only ways to encounter it. You can eat contaminated food, or even be exposed to it from a chemical explosion. None of these apply to Nick. Well, he’s eaten food, of course, but we’ve all eaten the same things, and have not tested positive for the stuff. The most likely answer is that someone poisoned him deliberately. I don’t know if they were trying to kill him, or only wrongly trying to prove that he’s still immortal, or what, but we will not tolerate that. We’ve spoken with the proper authorities, and a major investigation is underway. Since these chemicals are sometimes used in terroristic plots, the FBI is on the case, not just for Nick, but because such a bad actor places the whole country at risk. So be warned, they’re going to find you, and you will pay. As for Nick himself, he is receiving the treatment that he needs, and the medical professionals expect a full recovery eventually. If you did this to him, you better hope for a positive outcome, or you will be in even bigger trouble than you already are.

Microstory 2243: Keeping Watch Over Us

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I received a clean bill of health from the doctors, who were truthfully a little perturbed by it. It’s not that they wanted me to be unwell, but they don’t understand how I could have been cured in the first place. They want to find a reasonable explanation. They want to find evidence that something happened to me, but they’re not going to, because my brief exposure to my own immortality cleared me out entirely, and brought me back to square one. They had no choice but to approve any medical treatment with any other doctor I choose. In turn, the FBI had no choice but to let me move out of the safehouse. Kelly, Dutch, and I are in the new apartment now. It’s not technically a safehouse, but it may as well be so far, since our security guards are keeping watch over us 24/7. It’s only a temporary place, as they have all been for a while. But I’m really hoping that the next one will be permanent. It has to meet all sorts of conditions, and my new security team will have to run an inspection first. It sounds like a lot of fun. While the other two are working more on that, I’m working through the details of my upcoming surgeries. I think it’s gonna happen pretty quick now that I can make my own decisions again. I don’t see this going more than a couple weeks before we get through it. I’m pretty wiped from all the poking and prodding, so I’m gonna have a nap. I hope it’s not a symptom.

Microstory 2201: Understanding of the Data

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I came back into the office today. Actually, I got in really early, before the sun came up, but I just watched a nature show on the gargantuan TV until it was time to “clock in”. What happened was I woke up at the end of a cycle, and couldn’t get back to sleep. I didn’t find myself drifting away during the day, though, so I think it will be okay. Sometimes, fighting insomnia is worse, and it’s best just to accept what your body is trying to tell you, even if you’re better at math, and you know that it’s wrong. I won’t be making a habit of it. After everyone else came in, we put a meeting on the books. My Data Analyst wanted to put the finishing touches on his presentation. He gave us his initial findings. He now understands how jail guests are currently scheduled, and as we suspected, it really doesn’t have anything to do with group dynamics. There is so much data, and so many variables to deal with, this is going to be a difficult task, but I know that my people are up to it. The majority of the rest of the team will begin next week. They’ll be spending time on their training, and getting to know each other, so it won’t be until about mid-August before we start making progress, but that progress will happen. The presentation was interactive, with the other team members asking questions, and already contributing to the understanding of the data. He actually rewrote some of the slides while we were all there together. Right now, I’m consolidating and organizing the information that I’ve received in my brain, and thinking about ways that we can tackle this issue in the future, and I’ll continue to do that after I fall asleep tonight.

Microstory 2200: Much Collaboration

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I’m out of the hospital, and back home in recovery. I suffered from a bunch of cuts and bruises, and a concussion, but thankfully no broken bones. Throughout all of my many medical issues, I’ve yet to break a bone. I was even thrown off a cliff shortly before I came to this universe, and I was all right. I think I had a little taste of my immortality back for that, which was just enough to save my life from deadly injuries. No such luck this time, but it wasn’t too bad anyway. I’ve been staying in bed most of the time, but still working. I was ready for this situation, even though I didn’t specifically plan for it. I bought this workstation cart that’s so wide that a bed can fit underneath it. I sometimes bring my personal laptop in here to use it after my shower. Right now, I have my whole business setup on here, thanks to Jasmine. I’ve been chatting with my people, and participating in conference calls. I even have remote access to the security feeds so I can keep an eye on the main meeting room. It’s not because I don’t trust my staff, it just makes me feel like I’m still there. Sort of, it’s not great, but it’s not going to be forever. I just think that it’s important for a boss to remain actively engaged in the work environment when there’s this much collaboration happening, and in need of happening. I’m not a micromanager, though. I trust my team members to do what needs to be done, but I’m available to them if they need me. I’ll be spending the rest of the weekend taking it easy, and then returning to full operational functionality on Monday. Before you start getting any ideas, I don’t need any help with my bills, even less so than I did last time. I’m flush with cash right now. Do you have any idea how much money I make? You can easily find out. I told you in an earlier post. Go ahead, I’ll wait. That’s what I thought. Save it for something else.

Microstory 2199: About Falling and Infections

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I’m in the hospital. I’m okay, I just had a little fall. I’ve been pretty tired lately, but that’s no surprise, because of how busy I am. Here’s the thing, though, I have been sleeping quite well. It’s traditionally been difficult for me to fall asleep, but when I get home at night, I’m ready to conk out, because my body can’t take any more. The trick is to push through the fatigue that comes up throughout the day, and then through the urge to nap before bed. I’ve actually done that in the past before, taken a nap in my recliner because I can’t bring myself to go to bed where I belong. It’s always been clear down the hallway, sometimes up to several meters. Who has the energy for that? I get my seven hours, which is pretty high for me. That’s my guess anyway, based on how long I remember lying in bed, and how often I had to get up to pee. You never invented fitness trackers, save for heartbeat chestbands, which is kind of interesting to me. It must be a fluke. Where I’m from, our watches can track sleep using a number of metrics. Anyway, I shouldn’t be so tired during the day, but it’s been problematic. I missed a step on the way down the stairs, and took a face-forward tumble. No, that’s not the right way to put it. It’s more like my foot forgot that I was on stairs at all. It hurt, but it’s nothing serious, and I don’t have a concussion, or anything. I wasn’t up to driving myself to the hospital, but I was conscious and responsive, so we didn’t call for an ambulance either. Jasmine drove me there, and has stayed with me all day. She’s such a great assistant and friend.

I feel so foolish, it really should not have happened. It’s not the first time either. Stairs and I have a pretty contentious relationship. I got stuck in an elevator once, but I’ve been stuck in staircases two and a half times. The two full times were because I was authorized to open the door into the stairwell, but I couldn’t get back into the building, or outside. They were in the same building, and I absolutely despise that company. Security refused to come help me. I probably would have died if no one had heard me knocking. The other time, I just got too weak on my way up to the 21st floor, and couldn’t stop part way though, because my badge didn’t go to the lower floors. That was no one’s fault but my own. I’ve actually fallen down a flight of stairs before, but that was definitely not my fault. Condensation from pipes over the stairs dripped down, and made them wet. I busted my elbow open, and ended up with a staph infection. Ah, see that? It has come full circle. My whole life is all about falling and infections, lol. My parents contacted a lawyer, and I got a couple thousand dollars for damages and lost wages, as well as my medical bills paid in full. I’m not going to blame the jail for this, so let’s just get that on record now. I’m going to be spending the night here for observation, but I’ll get back tomorrow. My medical team is recommending that I work from home, which should be okay as long as it’s just for the one day. I need to get back to normal soon. We got a world to change, don’t we, people? Nothing can hold us back from that.

Microstory 2175: Belly in the Saucer

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A few weeks ago, I had a bird problem. House sparrows were nesting above my balcony, and a few of the baby birds almost died, so I first had to save them so they could grow up and fledge away. Once they were gone, I sealed up the gap underneath the next ceiling to prevent them from nesting there again. Today, an adolescent sparrow perched on the railing of my balcony. It sat there for a pretty long time, jerking its little neck around, looking for either food or danger. There’s no way to know this, but I felt like it was one of the nestlings that I stuck back up with their brothers and sisters, come home to see the old place. I know that birds can’t feel nostalgic. At least, I think I know that, I don’t know for sure. Do they? In all likelihood, it was a completely unrelated bird who just wanted to be there in that moment. But perhaps not. Perhaps it could remember my scent (even though I wore gloves) and knew that I was not a threat to it. I opened the door to see how close I could get, pretty confident that just the sound of the latch would be enough to scare it off, but I was wrong. It stuck around, and just watched me. I shut the door, once again sure that it would be too startled by the noise, but when I turned back around, it was still there. It might have hopped over a few centimeters, but other than that, it was totally chill. I sat down at my little table, and took out my phone to catch up on the headlines. That’s pretty much all I do, just skim the news stories without reading any of the stories in depth. If it’s a good headline, it tells you all you need to know, and if it’s not, the full story probably isn’t worth reading anyway. If it’s a topic that I’m particularly interested in, then I will tap on it, though. The bird, meanwhile, stayed there. At one point, I reached behind myself to the corner where I keep one of my plants, and removed the drip saucer from underneath. It was totally dry, which probably means that I should water the plant, even though it looked fine. I set the saucer on the table, and scooted it away from me, closer to the bird. I don’t know what it’s like to be a bird, but their legs and feet are so tiny. I would think that they would get tired of standing on them, and even more tired of perching. I thought maybe it could rest on its belly in the saucer. It was a stupid idea. It didn’t understand that that’s what I intended, so it didn’t get in, but that would have made for a cooler story, wouldn’t it have? There’s really no point to anything I’m saying. I thought that it was just a nice little innocuous anecdote to tell you while I’m on my mini-vacation. If you didn’t like it, maybe my next post will be more interesting. Oh, and speaking of which, I now have a million subscribers to my blog, so there’s that too. Okay, talk later!

Microstory 2074: Those Who Come in Late

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I am super tired, so I’m not going to say much today. It’s okay, but I wish my new boss had told me that I was going to be working whole days for the next four days at least. She wants me to understand how to open, and how to close, but also what it’s like to be immersed in that environment throughout the day. She wants me to get a feel for the difference between customers who come in early, and those who come in late, along with everyone in between. I didn’t get enough sleep last night, so I didn’t really get much out of that yet, but I trust her. I’ll be super prepared for it tomorrow. But I can’t do that unless I pretty much go to bed right now. It’s a good thing there’s never anything good on TV. Back on my home world, I was often too distracted to manage my time well.

The Advancement of Mateo Matic: March 6, 2399

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Mateo brought one of Ramses and Leona’s little leechcraft up into space, thinking that it could be of some use to them, and he turned out to be right. Leona deployed it from the vacuum tent, leaving it in their then-orbit before they went back towards Earth in Mangrove Rocket Eleven. It is capable of a little station-keeping on its own, but it works best when latched onto some other satellite. It immediately fell into a decaying orbit, which means that it will eventually burn up in the atmosphere, but it will probably be years before that happens. They don’t need it to stay up there forever. They just want to get an idea of how this mysterious Omega bubble works.

“Anything?” Mateo asks. It’s late, and they’re back in the Kansas City lab with Tarboda and Heath, who are both asleep.

Leona takes a sip of her tea. “So far, so good. The bubble has not yet reached the leechcraft.”

“What does that mean?” he presses. “Did it shrink, or just stay where it is?”

She takes another sip. “There’s no way to know. If and when the bubble reaches it, there will be a split second before it shuts off where I might be able to tell that the bubble is the reason that this happened, and I didn’t just lose contact with it because of a micrometeoroid, or interference, or something. We may never be sure where the bubble is, and where it isn’t. By its very nature, it blocks such observation.” She takes another sip, and doesn’t even give herself enough time to set the cup down before she needs yet another.

“What I’m observing right now,” Mateo begins, “is that you need to go to bed.”

“No, I’m fine. I’m working.”

He points at one of the other screens. “What does this mean here?”

Leona peers at it. “Well, that—that means the big satellite we have up there is detecting temporal energy. The bubble must be receding. How did I miss that?”

“Because it’s like I said, you’re too tired.” He kind of paws at her.

“Bzzz!” she exclaims, trying to swat him away like a fly, then takes another sip.

“What exactly is this you’re drinking?” Mateo picks it up himself, and takes a tiny sip. “Whoa, this is black tea. If you take any more of this, you’ll be up all night. Come on.” He gently tries to pull her away from the machine. “It's time for bed.” He pulls a little harder when she resists.

“Mateo, this development means that I have to stay!”

“The computer is monitoring the bubble’s progress, right? You don’t have to be here to watch it. You’ve had a long day, and a long few weeks before that, and a long few months before that, and I could go back to the beginning of the first timeline you remember, couldn’t I? I know you want to keep on this, but you could make more mistakes. You don’t want that, do you?”

“No,” she replies in a nervous little girl voice.

“Go on upstairs,” Mateo urges softly. He starts waving his hand at the computer like a philistine. “I’ll call you if I see something happen on the thing.”

Leona nods, and turns away. Just then, the computer beeps. She spins right back around. “What was that?”

Mateo leans in to read it. “It’s a message...from Alyssa. She wants to meet.”