Showing posts with label flying. Show all posts
Showing posts with label flying. Show all posts

Friday, April 4, 2025

Microstory 2380: Vacuus, October 29, 2179

Generated by Google ImageFX text-to-image AI software, powered by Imagen 3
Dear Condor,

Thanks for the compliment, you’re not so bad yourself. I wouldn’t mind seeing a few more photos. As for your question about what I might have done with my life had I been born on a pre-apocalyptic Earth, I’ve always wanted to work with my hands. Obviously, I need my hands to do my real job well, but I’ve never gotten those hands dirty. As your twin and I realized, our base is immaculate. The systems are designed to keep out all the Vacuan dust, and keep the atmosphere in. If I had been born on Earth instead, say a hundred years ago, I guess I would have liked to be a gardener, or something. Yeah, we have a garden here, but it’s not really the kind I’m talking about. It’s so stale and perfect, like everywhere else. It would have been nice to plant beautiful flowers just for the sake of it, not because anyone needed food. To crouch there on the edge of the colorful garden, smiling up at the sun. We don’t have a sun here, so I suppose just about anything outdoors would be amazing. I do yoga too, so I’m flexible, and don’t have any problem being on my hands and knees. I’ve attached a photo of myself doing my morning yoga. It was taken a few years ago, when I was in slightly better shape, but I’m still doing okay. That’s about all I can do to workout unless I want to fight over the three treadmills that we have. You must have other ways of staying fit. Exactly how big and comprehensive are these domes that you live under? Have you ever gone swimming in a pool, or an artificial pond? You can send me a picture of that if you want. We’re so confined here, and swimming would be a huge waste of resources, we would never dream of it. Back in the day, people would make fun of one of my grandfather’s friends because he didn’t know how to swim, but these days, that’s probably a whole lot of people. It looks fun, but it’s just not practical. I did design myself a swimsuit once, just to see what it looked like. I can send you that photo too, if you’re interested. Researchers are developing virtual reality, which could give people so many opportunities that they never had before, like swimming, or opportunities that would be impossible in the real world, like flying without an aircraft. Could you imagine? Okay, I’m just fantasizing now. What kind of fantasies do you have? Don’t be afraid to be a little provocative, if that’s what’s on your mind. We all have dreams.

Dreaming of you,

Velia

Friday, June 21, 2024

Microstory 2175: Belly in the Saucer

Generated by Google Gemini Advanced text-to-image AI software, powered by Imagen 2, and by Pixlr AI image editor
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!

Wednesday, May 22, 2024

Microstory 2153: New Future Business Partners

Generated by Google Gemini Advanced text-to-image AI software, powered by Imagen 2
My new future business partners have come into town. They decided to fly in a day early to see the city. They’ve never been here before, so I toured them around. I did my best with it anyway, it’s not like I’m some kind of an expert. Not only am I from an alternate version of Kansas City, but I’m just not interested in that sort of thing. Still, I did a little bit of research, and found a local company that specializes in itineraries for tourists. We’re going to have our meeting tomorrow, so this was just something fun before all that. We ended up spending so much time together that we had lunch in the early afternoon, and dinner tonight. That’s why this is posting so late. We stopped for ice cream in between meals, so I’m probably not going to feel great for the next few days. I’m not lactose intolerant, I just tend to go overboard. I’ve never done anything like this before, with people that I’m not related to, I mean. Anytime I’ve traveled, I’ve gone with family, because I never had any friends. It was surreal, socializing with others, but I got through it, and I’m glad that I did. I won’t bore you with the details, or regale you with the juicy ones that we talked about over the meals, because it’s none of your business. I’m sure that I’ll have more that I’ll want to say after our meeting tomorrow, but I’m equally sure that I won’t actually be able to say any of that either. Perhaps in a few months, it will be declassified. Anyway, I’m super tired, so I gotta get to bed. I still have to work in the morning, and am only taking a couple hours for lunch to discuss business matters. This new partnership won’t be interfering with my regular job.

Monday, May 6, 2024

Microstory 2141: Smol Birb Friends

Generated by Google Gemini Advanced text-to-image AI software, powered by Imagen 2
I don’t want to talk about my last weekend in jail. It was relatively uneventful. Most everyone in there has read at least a little of my blog by now, and that’s making things a little awkward, but I’m getting through it. It does feel like it’s painting a target on my back, but as I’ve been saying, this is not prison, so it was never going to be as intense and dramatic as you see it depicted on TV. It ain’t no picnic neither, but I’ll be fine. No, what I need to talk to you about today are my new smol birb friends. If you follow me on social media, you already know that I found a nest above my balcony. One of the babies fell out the other day, and died, but then two more babies fell out the next day, and I was able to scoop them up, and carefully place them back in the nest. They were pretty noisy, which the internet says is a good thing, because obviously, it means they’re still alive. It was really stressful being away for 48 hours, though, because even though I could check on the camera feed I had up there once a day, it’s not like there was anything I could do about it. Welp, that turned out to not be so true. My landlord also just so happens to be a reader, so she took it upon herself to unlock my door, and go out onto the balcony while I was away. She returned the precious chick to its rightful place in the nest. Happy ending, right? Not so fast, nothing’s actually ended yet. According to those internet people I’m always going on about, this species of borb propagates like crazy. If you want to take the nest down, which I’m required to eventually, you have to do it in between laying cycles. But that’s a very difficult time to measure.

You see, I don’t know how far along they were in their development when I noticed the nest in the first place, so I didn’t know when they were going to fledge. Once they do, I pretty much have to immediately take the nesting down, and install bird deterrents, or they’ll be right back. Why do I have to do this? Well, it’s a legal thing. I’m not allowed to foster wildlife in or around a building like this, and since house sparrows are considered a nuisance, I’m actually encouraged to just kill them. If I don’t, someone will. Of course, I never want to do that, so I knew I would have a really short window to clear them out to prevent them from coming back. The problem was, I was far too early in this venture. They stopped chirping. I even climbed up there on a chair, and started gently poking on the nest, and nothing. They never chirped at all. You would think that they would have said something, if only leave us alone, we’re babies! But nothing at all. I assumed that they were further along in their learning, and had flown off already, so I began to take the nesting down. Suddenly, two tiny borbs fell out, and landed on the balcony. I was horrified. I thought about trying to stick them back up there, but it was kind of deep in the crevice, and I didn’t know what shape it took in there, or how they moved around. Putting the chicks back was one thing, but trying to recreate everything their mama had done to build their home seemed like an impossible task. I’m sure the internet will be mad at me, but what was I supposed to think? I would not have done that if I thought that they were still in there, and alive. I still can’t figure out why they weren’t chirping anymore. But it was too late, I had to act fast, so I went back inside, and grabbed a plastic bowl. I could save them. I just had to give it time, so that’s what I’m doing. I moved the camera again to just above the bowl, so we’ll see whether mama comes back to take care of them again. I’ll update you tomorrow, probably only on social, though.

Friday, March 1, 2024

Microstory 2095: Not Thick Enough

Generated by Google Gemini Advanced text-to-image AI software, powered by Imagen 2
My parents were pretty tired when they flew into town. There was this whole issue at the airport. I didn’t know this before, but they just built a new airport for Kansas City, and it’s not my favorite. I preferred the older concept, with the circles. People hated that, but my thing is, it can be a great thing, if you do it right. They designed those specific ones poorly, I’ll admit, but the idea is perfectly sound. These are rings, which allow your driver to pull up pretty much right to your gate. There are multiple security entrances, which means that you only have to contend with the people who are getting on your flight, or one of a handful of others. If they staggered the flight schedule right, though, and assigned the gates wisely, they could actually make it so that the only people who are in line for security at any one time are on the same flight. The other flights in your sector have already left, or don’t need to get through yet. Anyway, the issue was that the original ones were not thick enough, which left less room for bathrooms, and almost no room for restaurants, and other shops. Everything was on the outside of security, which I didn’t have a problem with. Since getting through security was so much faster than at other airports, it was fine. You didn’t have to get there three years early, because you’re already just right there! Ugh, I could go on and on about airport layouts, including the fact that you can squeeze more planes in the same area, because the curve is constantly dropping away from the fleet, but let’s get back to the story. I spent a lot of time in the new one, waiting for my parents to land. They’re still figuring out how to coordinate all this foot and car traffic, it was a mess to know where you can pick up your family, and when, then there was a glitch, so everyone was waiting at the wrong baggage conveyor belt. I think it will be fine, they just need time to work out all the kinks. I was going to take them back to my landlord’s house to meet her, and share a meal or two, but they just wanted to get to the hotel, order room service, and then go to sleep. They’ve both been retired for years, so they’ve grown used to their days not being so busy. I decided to spend the night with them. Fortunately, the hotel made its own mistake, and assigned them a double room, so there was a bed there for me. I don’t post on my blog on the weekends, so I’ll catch you all up on Monday. That’s when they’ll be flying back out, so I’m sure we’ll run into more trouble.

Thursday, February 29, 2024

Microstory 2094: This New Life Chapter

Generated by Google Gemini Advanced text-to-image AI software, powered by Imagen 2
I’ve been missing my family. I’ve told you lies about them, like how they live in a different universe, but I’ve also told you some true things, including the fact that a lot of them are teachers, and that my parents liked to log the number of kids who came to their house for Halloween. Don’t worry, it’s not like there’s anything bad between us, but I flew the nest years ago, and I never went back. I was being rebellious, and wanted to exert my independence, and for the longest time, I felt like I couldn’t return, even just to enjoy a Sunday brunch with them, because I thought it would look like I was a failure. I still talk to them, but we’re not nearly as close as we used to be. I think I would like to change that. Things are in motion. I spoke with them on the phone earlier today, and asked if I could visit them. They insisted that they come see me here instead. They say that nothing has changed about where they live, or the way that they live, so they want to see where I am, and how I’m doing. I think that’s okay, even though things aren’t super great right now. They needed a day to get their affairs in order, but they’ll be flying in tomorrow, late morning. I’m going to rent a car to meet them at the airport. I was worried that my social worker wouldn’t like it, because I’m not really supposed to travel, but he actually encouraged it. He thought that I would need closure, or something, but I see it as a new beginning more than anything. I’ll let you know how it goes, but my next blog chapter will probably not be long, since I’ll be too busy writing this new life chapter.

Friday, January 26, 2024

Microstory 2070: Godlings All The Way Down

Generated by Google Workspace Labs text-to-image Duet AI software
I’m sorry about bummin’ you all out yesterday. I’ve just been thinking a lot about my past, and my life. Why don’t I tell you a little bit about it? ‘Kay? You can read it or not. Like Superman, I grew up in Kansas. And like Superman, I had superpowers. But unlike Superman, these powers weren’t useful for flying around, rescuing people. They gave me glimpses into other worlds, which allowed me to write their stories down, and pass them off as fiction. I eventually realized that some of these stories were taking place in a universe that was located inside of my very soul. You see, that’s what all inhabited universes are; the complex development of a person’s soul, who you might call a god. We are all gods with godlings, and all godlings are gods. It’s godlings all the way down. No one knows where it ends, and no one knows where it begins. Some may want to answer such profound philosophical questions, but I am not one of them, because it would not change the way I live my life, which has always been a little less than the best I can. I’m not what you would call responsible or productive. I’ve not written any stories for a long time, because that’s not me anymore. I no longer have access to those worlds. If I did, I would be able to find Cricket and Claire. My alternate self could. He probably knows exactly where they are, and I bet he’s telling their continued story without me. He used to be able to send me messages, which we called updates, but your boring planet locks all those out. My own story is still getting out to him, but I’m lost. Alone. With all of you.

Tuesday, December 26, 2023

Microstory 2047: Delaware

Papa struggled with the ALS for many months, doing what the doctors recommended, and trying different medications. Nothing was working, so they decided to go see another doctor. There was a different specialist who lived in Millsboro, Delaware. This is the one who told my fathers that the disease was aggressive. That’s the word I heard my family use a lot: aggressive. It sounds really mean. Some people can live 10 years after they find out that they have ALS, and I wish I could say that my papa was one of them, but he wasn’t. He found out in 2021, and you already know how this story ends. They did everything they could, but that wasn’t much. All they could really do in the end was make him as comfortable as possible. Delaware was not a good trip either. I will probably never go to Pennsylvania or Delaware. I might not even go to North Dakota again. Delaware was the last time that my papa could walk. He had to stay in the wheelchair for the rest of his life. It was hard to see him like that, but I would rather see him like that than not at all.

Monday, December 25, 2023

Microstory 2046: Pennsylvania

You might have heard of ALS already. People were dumping ice water on their heads to raise money for it several years ago. They still haven’t found a cure, though. I really wish they had, because then my papa would still be here today. That doesn’t mean that scientists aren’t trying to find a cure. Massachusetts has some really good doctors, but my fathers heard of a specialist in Pennsylvania who knew a lot about it, so they wanted to meet with her. I had to stay with my cousins again. My fathers flew down to Philadelphia without me. I don’t know what they talked about, because no one will tell me, but they obviously didn’t solve the problem, because my papa is dead now.

Tuesday, December 19, 2023

Microstory 2042: New York

As I said before, the state of New Jersey worked really hard to find out if my parents were still alive in Ethiopia. They were unable to find them, or any other family that I might have there, which is why my fathers were allowed to adopt me. When I was 7 years old, though, that changed. A special charity organization flew to Ethiopia, and started offering free DNA testing. Anyone in our country can send in a sample so a computer can study their DNA, but it’s not that easy in other parts of the world. An aunt of mine participated in this special program, and when they uploaded the information to the big worldwide database, they found that I was a match. My fathers did it for me early on after I first met them, because they wanted to know whether there were any medical issues that they should be worried about. When they found out that I did have some family in Africa, they decided that we would all three fly out there to meet them. As it turns out, my birth parents were dead, but my aunt had a husband, and they had a bunch of kids, who were my brand new cousins. They were happy that my papa and dad were now my parents, so they didn’t want to take me away, but they did want to have relationships with me. So my fathers worked really hard to help them get to the United States. It has taken years since 2019, but they are finally living here, and on their way to becoming U.S. citizens. I wish my papa was alive to see it. Oh, and we had a really long layover in New York while we were waiting to fly to Africa, so my papa was able to see it.

Friday, December 15, 2023

Microstory 2040: Wisconsin

My fathers’ bad luck continued as they were trying to fly from Alaska to New Jersey. They were supposed to make a stop in Chicago, which is where my papa used to live, but that’s not what happened. On their way on the first plane, another passenger got really drunk, and started misbehaving. He was causing problems for everyone, and being really rude, so the pilot had no choice but to land the plane at a different airport to let him off. They even had to have the police waiting for him there. The closest one was this little airport called Southern Wisconsin Regional Airport. It wasn’t really built for planes like that, so it took them a long time to get through all the stuff with the police, and start trying to fly again. By the time they were ready, they couldn’t leave anyway, because of a snowstorm that had formed over Canada. If that guy had just not gotten drunk, they would have arrived in New Jersey on time. Honestly, it’s kind of scary for me to think about, though. They had to spend one night in Wisconsin until the storm passed, and then they were able to fly again. By the time they made it to New Jersey, though, the child they were going to adopt had already gone to another family. They were too late. They would have to wait a few months longer. They had to wait for me. I, for one, am glad that they did.

Tuesday, December 5, 2023

Microstory 2032: Hawaii

My papa was really good at his job. He was so good at it that in the year 2012, his bosses rewarded him with a really expensive trip to Hawaii. Hawaii is a chain of islands in the North Pacific Ocean. It used to be its own country, but now it’s in the U.S. Papa and his whole team went there together. It wasn’t a business trip, or a retreat so they could learn to work together better. It was just a cool vacation, where they could do whatever they wanted. That didn’t mean that they were just going to go without having any plans. The bosses also came up with a special itinerary, which sent the team to each of the major islands of Hawaii. There are over 100 islands in Hawaii, but there are only 8 main ones. They went to each one of them, spending one day on most of them. The whole trip lasted for 11 days, though, so they must have been on one or more for longer, probably wherever the airport was. Hawaii is a really beautiful state with lots of trees, mountains, and beaches all around. I would like to go there one day. You probably would too.

Thursday, November 30, 2023

Microstory 2029: Michigan

Papa’s bosses must have heard me from the past, lol, because they ended up taking one of their submarines on a trip. They took a ferry to get to that island in Connecticut, but they didn’t do it like that when they all went to Michigan. They worked in Chicago, which is on the southern part of Lake Michigan. I don’t know if it was a new sub, or what, but in 2011, they all crammed into it, and took it all the way up north, to the other side of the giant lake. They ended up in a city in Michigan called Mackinaw City. It was the first time anyone had done anything like that. That wasn’t the point of the trip, though. They actually wanted to get to the city. Well, they were outside of the city. It was for something called a corporate retreat. It was summertime, so once they landed at the docks, they took cars into the woods. That’s where they played games, and learned how to work with each other. At that point, the company was over ten years old. A lot of people wanted to work there, so there were new workers who weren’t there before. Most of the people at the retreat didn’t know each other very well. A company built the camp to help other companies’ teams work together better. My papa was in charge of it for his team, but he also participated in the games and exercises. When it was over, most of them just flew back home, but papa got to go back in the submarine again. He stopped at other cities in Michigan along the way, because he had always wanted to see them. Then he took it back to the submarine base, and went home.

Thursday, November 2, 2023

Microstory 2009: Ohio

Both of my dads are really smart, and everyone in their families are smart too. While my papa was still in high school, his sister was older, and went off to college. She chose a place in Ohio. It was really fancy, and only for really smart people. There are probably really good colleges closer to where they lived, but she wanted to go there. I forgot to ask her what it was called, and she was too busy tonight, which will be last night by the time you see this. She had too much stuff that they couldn’t fly it all out there, so they drove the whole way from Idaho. They left early, so they could make it a road trip. It took them over three days to get all the way across the country, but they could have done it faster if they had really wanted to. They drove through five other states besides Idaho and Ohio. Remember, my papa had already been to Wyoming and Nebraska, but not Iowa, Illinois, or Indiana. Papa didn’t count that as going to those states, though, since they drove through them so quickly. He even thought that his family didn’t stop once the whole drive through Indiana, though dad thinks they probably had to stop for gas and a potty break at least once. Anyway, Aunt Cooper had to go back and forth from home to her school a few times every year in college, but papa never went back. This was the only time he was there, and he stayed one night in a motel before his parents drove the three of them back to Idaho, so Aunt Cooper could be alone and start learning. I’m still too young to be thinking too much about college, but I really hope to go to somewhere here in Massachusetts. Maybe even Harvard if my grades get a little better.

Wednesday, November 1, 2023

Microstory 2008: Nebraska

My grandma was born in a very small town in Nebraska called Worms. That’s gross, isn’t it? The nearest larger city is called Grand Island, which is funny too, because it’s not an island. What my dad said is that they called it that because it’s between two rivers. That doesn’t make any sense to me, but whatever. In 1988, when papa was still 14, because he hadn’t had his birthday yet, it was the summer again, and time for a family reunion. What’s funny about this is that my grandma’s family always has a new reunion whenever a new president is elected, or about to be voted in. But sometimes you don’t know if there’s going to be a new president or not, right? So sometimes they can plan for it, and sometimes they can’t. When President Hagerman died, they had to have a sudden reunion, just so they wouldn’t stop the tradition. It seems silly to me, but I’m not in charge of it. It started many years ago when one of the presidents was born in Nebraska, so he spent a lot of time there. Papa didn’t care about that. He was just excited to be flying on an airplane for the first time. By now in the story, he had already visited seven different states, but always by driving, so he had never flown before. He was nervous, but he knew that they wouldn’t make him do it if they thought it was going to crash. I’ve been on a few planes too, and they never crashed. Have you ever flown before? It’s scary but fun. We’re going to get a new president next year, because President Greason has already been there for eight years, so I think we’ll fly to Nebraska.

Tuesday, October 17, 2023

Microstory 1997: Wild Beasts

Generated by Google Workspace Labs text-to-image AI software
SI Eliot: *sits down across from Reese*
Reese: I thought we agreed to stay on opposite sides of the jet, and never speak to each other again for the rest of our lives.
SI Eliot: Yeah, but I’ve been thinking about what happened at the meeting, though, and I think we should touch base about it.
Reese: Calling that a meeting would be like calling a stampede of wildebeests a casual jog with a few friends. That was one of the most horrifically uncomfortable experiences of my life, and I just wanna forget it ever happened.
SI Eliot: Lower your voice. There could be listening devices on this thing.
Reese: That would just be like Commander Virtue. You’re right, but I don’t care. Let the plane go down. At least that would leave me in peace. I’m still drunk, and now hungover.
SI Eliot: Ha-ha, he’s joking. Commander Virtue is an honorable man, and we are lucky that he lent us one of his aircraft for the trip home.
Reese: *sighs, then takes a device out of his bag* I swept for bugs while you were in the lavatory. You think this is my first time on an unsecured mode of transportation? Please.
SI Eliot: You see, I knew there was a reason you were promoted over me.
Reese: Are you still on that?
SI Eliot: No, I’m... I meant that sincerely. I was bitter before, but I’m over it. Besides, I’m not exactly envious of all the meetings you’re gonna have to have with that man now that you’re a director.
Reese: Oh my God! I wasn’t even thinking about that. I was just relieved to be out of there, I forgot that it’s still not over. It will never be over, will it?
SI Eliot: Not until the next administration.
Reese: When will that be?
SI Eliot: Three years, if he doesn’t secure reëlection, of course.
Reese: Of course. Gah! Hold on. Deputy Director.
SI Eliot: You mean Celandine Robles?
Reese: No. The deputy often accompanies directors on meetings and conference calls. If I made you my deputy instead, you could help me deal with him.
SI Eliot: Oh, no. Have you heard Director Washington complain about him? She hates him too, but she’s never described that kind of craziness before. He’s different around men. He thinks he can be himself, and that we’ll understand. The way I see it, Deputy Robles is your best option on that front, along with all the other fronts.
Reese: That was a test. I needed to know if you were still gunning for my job, and just decided to be nice and underhanded about it.
SI Eliot: If anything, it’s gotten me to seriously consider switching to the private sector.
Reese: Really? You would do that? You’re such a...patriot.
SI Eliot: Well, I don’t mean to toot my own horn, but I’ve gotten an offer or too.
Reese: Well, congratulations. Hey, wait, that’s the St. Louis Arch. It’s gigantic.
SI Eliot: What? We shouldn’t be able to see that. Reese, I think we’re landing.
Captain: *through the intercom* Folks, you may have noticed we’re a little off route. No need to worry. We just have to make an emergency landing. I’ll update again soon.

Thursday, August 3, 2023

Microstory 1944: Disclosure

Generated by Google Workspace Labs text-to-image AI software
Reese: So, this is the infamous shadow team that’s been following us around in the desert? Are we havin’ fun yet?
Shadow Team Leader: Agent Parsons. What did you find down there?
Reese: Three aliens.
Shadow Team Leader: Are they still alive?
Reese: They are. They claim that they’re not here to harm us.
Shadow Team Leader: We’ll let the OSI decide that. That’s above both of our paygrades. Have you detained them?
Reese: I placed them in handcuffs, but...
Shadow Team Leader: But what?
Reese: But they have wings.
Shadow Team Leader: So they can just fly away whenever they want?
Leonard: They can’t fly. It’s more like they can jump real high, and then fall down slowly. At least, that’s what the intel says.
Shadow Team Leader: What’s the point of having wings then?
Leonard: I believe they evolved from creatures who could fly, but lost the ability in a practical sense due to their weight. Still, the wings are dangerous. We need to figure out how to secure them for transport.
Shadow Team Leader: Now that we’ve confirmed that they’re here, I can call in a containment unit. *addressing the group* I would like to thank you all for your service. For those of you without badges, I have been ordered to let you go free without issue, regardless of any outstanding warrants you may or may not have. We’ll ask you to keep what you know secret, however, and a special team or agent will be making contact with you soon to ensure that you have complied with this demand. Should they find that you’ve spread the word to even one other person, I’ve been asked to warn you that there will be severe consequences. Nothing is for you to say. Am I understood?
Myka: My girls understand secrecy.
Shadow Team Leader: Even against your little group of bonded ex-cons? As I understand it, you share everything with everyone.
Myka: The way you understand it is wrong. We knew the risks when we came out here.
Shadow Team Member 2: Sir? *whispers something to Shadow Team Leader*
Shadow Team Leader: Is anyone else out here with you, Agent? Did you conscript anyone else, or tell them where you would be?
Reese: No.
Myka: Absolutely not. I kept this whole thing to a small circle. Why, what happened?
Shadow Team Member 1: We’ve spotted an all-terrain vehicle headed this way.
Reese: Listen, I don’t think that one of these things can fit in a car. I told you about the wings. They’re of decent size. None of the seats down there have backs.
Shadow Team Member 1: So the driver is human; that doesn’t mean they’re not dangerous. Weapons up.
*everyone with a gun points it towards the oncoming vehicle, which is now in view*
Shadow Team Member 1: Shoot on my order, and only on my order.

Tuesday, May 30, 2023

The Advancement of Mateo Matic: March 27, 2399

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Mateo is closest to the window. He looks out of it to see whether it explains why no one else is here. Based on what they’ve learned from Heath and Imani, even on the off hours, the auditorium is never empty. Whether the speakers are rehearsing, or worshipers are praying, this place is never as dead as it is now. It’s also falling apart, as is everything outside, which can really mean only one thing. “We’re in the Facsimile. Did we just skip over the entirety of Saturday?”
“Why did you bring us here?” Leona demands to know from Dalton.
“I just reset the timeline,” Dalton begins to explain. “Anyone who was still in the Third Rail has forgotten everything that’s happened in the last few days. Well, they didn’t forget. To them, it never happened. I brought everyone here so you will remember. This is not a gift. I did this so that you will know for the rest of your few remaining days that you did this to yourself. When the Reconvergence comes, you will have no hope of escaping. Reality will collapse, and you’ll just blink out of existence.”
“We’re supposed to be friends,” Leona reminds him. “Why are you doing this?”
“We’ve  not been friends for a long time,” Dalton argues. “As for why I’m doing this, I’m not. I told you, you brought this on yourselves. All you had to do was build your little satellites, and save your little refugees, and leave the rest to me.”
“So you’re just going to kill us,” Leona states.
“Alternate versions of most of you will remain. For the rest, you’re collateral damage. I’m sorry it had to come to this.”
“We know how to get out,” Mateo contends. “You’re not dooming us.”
“I am, though. The door in the un-Salmon Civic Center has been closed. It’s technically still there, but I filled it up with cement. You could try to chisel through, I guess.” Dalton looks at his watch. “I don’t like your chances.”
“There’s still time,” Leona pleads. “Don’t do this. When we get out of here another way, and we will, because we always do, you’re going to regret it.”
“Whatever. I’m not too worried about it.” Dalton reaches out towards Alyssa. “Come dahling,” he says in a British accent.
“I’m not going with you,” Alyssa spits back. She takes Mateo’s hand, but she’s not doing it just because they love each other. She’s slipping him a note.
“This is non-negotiable. You’re gonna give them false hope that all they have to do is teleport to the Constant, or something.” He takes her by the hand, and whisks them both away.
“I don’t understand,” Senator Morton says. “What is this place?”
Leona explains to all those not already in the know where they are. If they don’t find the exit by midnight, they will be stuck here for another week, and that’s assuming they can make it by the time it hits midnight again. That may be what Dalton wants. His primary objective seems to be getting people out of his way. As far as they know, though, he doesn’t kill people. This seems very unlike him, and unless he’s just another version of Constance, there is another way out of here.
“There is,” Mateo jumps in after Leona’s done. He holds up Alyssa’s note. Scribbled quickly in god-awful handwriting, it says BACK DOOR. “There’s another exit.”
“Great.” Aldona throws up her hands. “There’s a back door somewhere, but we have no clue where.”
“Aldona,” Leona begins, “if you know something about the future that will help us, now is the time to ignore my rules of time travel, and just tell us.”
“I would tell you if I did,” Aldona replies. “I was not aware that this would happen. If Dalton has the power to reset the timeline, maybe nothing I knew of the future has done us any good. I don’t know. I just don’t know anymore.” She’s distraught.
“We don’t have time to search the whole planet,” Leona complains, “even if he let us keep our trusty teleporter. I have access to an aircraft. Ramses specifically designed it to be duplicated into this dimension, and be ready to go if and when we ever needed it, but where are we going to take it?”
“I know where we need to go.” Tarboda looks at Mateo. “We’ve been there.”
Mateo looks puzzled. Then he starts to think. “The antipodes,” he realizes.
“Which antipodes?” Leona asks.
“What is an antipode?” Labhrás asks.
“Kansas and Madagascar,” Tarboda answers Leona. “I don’t know for sure that it’s right, but there’s a weird dimensional thing out there, and if I were to install a back door, the first place I would think is the opposite of where I put the front door.”
“That makes some sense,” Winona encourages.
“It’s our only hope. Can everyone walk? Our aircraft will fly, not none of the other vehicles in this dimension are operable, and the Lofts are about an hour away.”
The group starts the hike northward from the Plaza to the Crown Center area. They don’t slow down, and they don’t make any stops. Their destination being very intentionally the farthest point on Earth from where they are now, it’s pretty much the longest flight they could possibly have to take. The jet is small, and barely big enough to fit all of them. Not everyone has a seat, but they’re not exactly worried about federal regulations at the moment. There is not enough time to make more than one trip. Ramses engineered it to be fuel efficient, and that meant sacrificing speed. It takes them the entire rest of the day, placing them within minutes of their midnight deadline. They don’t even have time to find a landing spot in all this dense vegetation. There aren’t enough parachutes for everyone either, so they have to triple up, which is also extremely dangerous, but they don’t jump from very high. Leona and Tarboda go last after gaining some altitude, and making sure the jet flies off into the distance.
“Leona takes out her phone. “There’s no GPS here, but the terrain is the same as it is in the Third Rail, so I can get us there.”
I can get us there,” Tarboda insists. “They were walking before, but now they’re running. With only a few minutes to spare, they find the half-hut. From the looks of it, it’s the other half. This is obviously not where Cheyenne and her key friends are living, though, because they were able to access the portal on a day other than Salmonday.
“Okay,” Leona says. “I’ll go first, and if I don’t come out in one minute, assume this is a one-way trip, and just follow me. If it’s killed me, well...you would have died in a matter of weeks anyway, right? All right, see you on the other side!” She runs through. Thirty seconds later, she peeks her head back through. “It’s two-way. Come on in.”
Everyone files in, with Mateo as the caboose. They’re in a world of white, like the Construct from The Matrix. A vague blur appears before them like a TV with a bad signal, then solidifies into Cheyenne. “You’re back.”
“Yeah, sorry,” Mateo begins. “We wouldn’t have come, except—”
“I was just gonna say that you’re right on schedule.” She points. “Walk that way.”

Thursday, May 4, 2023

The Advancement of Mateo Matic: March 1, 2399

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Mangrove Rocket Three was placed on autopilot, and kept in orbit. Everyone went down to Mangrove One in a drop ship, including good guys, and not so good guys. From here they started going their separate ways. Aldona stayed to continue working on the defense program. A representative from the Naval Fleet flew in from Antarctica to take the Fifth Divisioner away. Tarboda flew everyone else back to Kansas City in his new sleek jet. Fairpoint is being returned to the government black site where he was locked up before. He’ll be joined by Erlendr Preston, Senator Morton, and Labhrás Delaney in a different capacity. The federal government actually has their own reintegration program for some cases, so he’ll stay there in a comfortable and unlocked room, with restricted movements, until he’s ready to rejoin into society. They’ll keep an eye on him even after that, especially Winona, who is overseeing the operation.
Morton declined Leona’s offer to get a hair transplant from Alyssa’s original body. It was kind of a silly idea, and might not have worked how they intended, or even at all. Bridget is staying close by, working with SD6 in some kind of non-field role, and has no intention of maintaining any significant relationship with the team. Speaking of the team, Vearden will be going back to the hospital suite he lives in with Arcadia, whose condition has remained unchanged since his death and resurrection. Everyone else, plus Tarboda, is going to the new lab that they haven’t used in a while.
Leona plans to continue to work with Aldona remotely, but Alyssa has agreed to let her transfer her consciousness to her old body, so she can at least move around on her own. Mateo stops short on their way across the parking lot. “She’s gone.”
“What do you mean, she’s gone?” Heath asks. They got him up to speed on everything, and he hasn’t missed a beat. This whole ordeal has made him miss his wife, though, and he does want to get back to her. He reportedly hopes that she feels the same, even after all this time.
“Leona is gone. It’s just me in here.”
“What happened to her?” Heath presses. “Could she just be, I dunno...asleep?”
“We sleep at the same time.” Mateo searches his mind, trying to find the imaginary line that divides his thoughts from hers, but it’s gone. He’s all alone again.
“That’s my fault,” Alyssa tells him with a sad look on her face.
“What do you mean?” Mateo asks.
“Try to teleport?” she suggests. “Try to teleport over there,” she rephrases.
“Okay.” Mateo tries, but doesn’t go anywhere. He’s puzzled. He tries again, but still nothing. “What’s stopping me?”
I am,” Alyssa replies.
“How?”
“The Omega Gyroscope,” she clarifies. “I’m its caretaker now.”
“I didn’t think that worked, since it was really meant to be Leona.”
“No, it worked. I’m in charge of it now.”
“But we were able to teleport now, as long as we had access to temporal energy,” Mateo reasons.
“That’s changed,” she explains.
“Well...can you change it back?” Mateo questions.
“I don’t want to,” she claims.
“Why not?”
“I don’t want anyone to have powers. Temporal, psychic, bioenhancements; I want it all to stop.”
“You’ve never expressed this desire before,” Mateo reminds her.
“I never felt it before. I do now.”
“Since when? When they brought you back? Does it have something to do with your new substrate?”
“No,” Alyssa insists. “It wasn’t until after I got back to Earth. I started feeling it on the launch pad, and it only grew stronger the more I stayed, or maybe the closer I got to Kansas City. I don’t know which.”
Mateo shuts his eyes, remembering something. “That little discrepancy they found in your brain. The thing that Ramses and Arcadia didn’t understand. They thought it was maybe Erlendr, or some other invader, but you’ve always had it. You had it when we met you.”
“Yes, that’s what I was thinking. It was a little dormant seed that sprouted just now, presumably because I’ve returned from the past.”
And because you’re closer to the gyroscope itself. That means you can find it.”
“I don’t want you to find it.” Alyssa sounds almost angry.
“That’s just the psychic seed in you. What do you want?”
I want you to back off!” She hops away from him like he was about to hit her.
Heath and Tarboda don’t want to be involved. They stay quiet, and stay back.
Mateo steps back too. “Now just think about this. Is that how you would have reacted to me a month ago? Would you be saying these things either?”
“I’m not saying them a month ago. I’m saying them now!”
“I understand that—” He tries to say in a soft voice.
“Don’t condescend to me!” She shouts.
Mateo shrinks, and averts his gaze. He doesn’t know how to handle this situation.
Alyssa sees that she’s overreacting. “I know that I’m different. I know that I shouldn’t feel the way that I do, but I don’t know how to go back to my old self, and I don’t know how to make myself want to.” She runs her hand through her hair anxiously.
Mateo can tell what’s about to happen next. He’s learned to recognize the acute stress response in anyone, and she’s about to run. Fighting didn’t work, so she’s going to switch to flight. If she teleports, which she can probably do as the only exception to the new no powers rule in the world, they may never find her again. He has to make her feel safe here, and remind her that no one is going to hurt her. The seed in her brain may get worse if they do nothing, but it’s certainly not going to get better if they keep pushing it, so for now, it’s worth the risk to just accept her decision, however misguided—and not truly hers—it may be. “It’s okay. You don’t have to do anything you don’t wanna do.”
Alyssa looks at him with the expression someone would have if they were tearing up, but no tears are forming. She’s trying to express herself appropriately, but it’s not working. “The last time I tried to meditate, I ended up dying.”
“I wasn’t going to suggest that.”
“That’s what I’m suggesting,” she clarifies. “I’ll fix this. I’ll fix my brain, and then I’ll fix everything else. They’re not going to take away my agency, whoever they are.”
“No, please don’t go,” he pleads.
“It’s okay, Mateo. I just need to be alone.” She disappears.

Wednesday, April 19, 2023

The Advancement of Mateo Matic: February 14, 2399

It was clear to Leona that Connell was never in the military, nor law enforcement. He was a wretched shot. He was just holding up his gun, and waving it around aimlessly, hoping to eventually hit something. She took it from him, and shot all of the henchmen in the legs. “I’m letting you live,” she announces, “not so you can come after me later, but so you can lick your wounds, and move on with your lives. Your boss is dead. He betrayed me, and karma paid him for it. Leave me alone, or the next time I’m holding a gun, I’ll aim higher. If I later decide that Labhrás is entitled to vengeance, I’ll take care of it myself, and send you the bill.” Satisfied that the firefight was over, Leona went with Connell to Dublin Airport. So they were in Ireland, or at least what’s left of it since most of the North Atlantic Isles were transported to the Fourth Quadrant.
The flight was the longest she’s ever experienced. After a long layover who knows where, it’s turned out that they’ve flown all the way down to Antarctica. Specifically, they’re landing at the Mozambican Naval Fleet Base. This still doesn’t explain who this Connell is, or who his boss might be, but it’s a lead. Technically, it’s not impossible that Coronel Zacarias is the one who is responsible for the bounty, but it’s pretty far-fetched. They left on great terms, and she gave him her contact info, so he would not have needed to set up this crazy elaborate plan to get someone else to kill her. Her guess is that she was right when she thought it was possible that someone had invaded and taken over the Nexus research facility. She’s proven right when they walk inside, and see the people milling about. These are definitely not Mozambican sailors. They’re dressed funny, but not unfamiliarly. She’s seen this kind of clothing before. Where was it?
“Oh, Christ, you’re from the Fifth Division.”
“Precisely, my dear!”
“How the hell did you get here?”
“That is not my right to tell,” Connell replies. “The boss will want to speak with you. It could be today, it could be tomorrow. It could be years from now. You’ll just have to hang out in hock and wait until he’s good and goddamn ready.”
They’ve just entered the hock section when a man jogs up. “Sir. It’s for you?” He hands Connell a comms device.
“Yes?” he asks the person on the other end. “I understand. No, right away, sir.” He hands the device back, and tries to say something to Leona, but she’s distracted.
“I’m okay,” Coronel Zacarias tells her from his cell. “I’m gonna need you to put on a brave face for me, okay?”
“Why didn’t you call?” Leona asks him.
“We’re leaving,” Connell insists, trying to pull her away.
“Get your hands off me,” Leona demands. “I won’t ask a second time.”
“I’m taking you to the boss.”
Leona twists his arm, and flips him onto his back. She steals his gun, and shoots the nearest other Fifth Divisioners. She hits him in the legs again, but she’s prepared to aim higher, like she promised the Irish gangsters.
“Stop!” Connell orders his men before they get the chance to shoot her back. “Stop! She must live!”
Leona lowers the gun to train it on Connell’s forehead. “I left you my number.”
“There was nothing that you could do,” Coronel Zacarias explains. “You would not have been able to come in time.”
“I could teleport.”’
“You can?”
“Well...not anymore, but when this happened, it’s possible. You should have reached out,” Leona reasons.
Zacarias shakes his head. “It would have only placed you in danger along with us. They didn’t know we knew each other. I never told them. They only know now because we’re talking.”
“I’m here now. I’ll get you out.”
“Don’t worry about us.”
She is worried about him. She feels like this is her fault, and it probably is. It usually is. Can she break him out? She could take out all these guys like John Wick before even one of them gets a shot off. The Crucia Heavy doesn’t like firearms, and taught her and Ellie to dislike them too, but she trained them on targeting anyway. It doesn’t matter how good of a fighter you are, you’re not faster than a bullet, and sometimes the only way to stop them from flying towards you is to send your own. Still, even if she got these people out of the cells, what would they do then? Would they escape? That would be a tall order. She has no way off the continent. She doesn’t have any control over the base’s systems, and Zacarias almost certainly doesn’t either. It is as they say, the only way out is through. She’s going to have to be diplomatic. Ugh. She’s no good at that anymore, especially not since her training on Flindekeldan. She carelessly drops the gun on Connell’s chest. “No! Touching!”
Connell is winded. “Yeah. Never again.” He struggles to get himself back to his feet, but slaps the guy who tries to help him away. “Never again,” he repeats. He brushes the dust off his pants, and takes a deep transitional breath. “Now, if you’ll follow me...” He holds his arms out to indicate the direction they’ll be going.
She lunges towards him by only a few centimeters to test his reaction. He flinches, so that’s good to know.
Connell leads her down the corridors, and up the elevator to the top level. It’s above ground and on the far end, allowing them to see the cliff and sea before them on one side, and the snow covered land on the other. “This is as far as I go.”
Leona looks at the ominous door. “Sleep with one eye open,” she warns.
He’s unable to hide a shiver. He starts to walk back the way they came.
Leona readies herself, then opens the door without knocking. Time freezes in her head as she considers who may be on the other side of it. If she didn’t know that this had something to do with her time in the Fifth Division, she may have guessed past and future greatest hits, like Erlendr or Zeferino Preston. Or maybe it’s someone who was actually a friend before, like Serkan Demir or Pribadium Delgado. Those being so random, and having nothing to do with any of these other people here, she dismisses them. She has narrowed it down to Mithridates Preston, Xerian Oyana, or that security guard that they left at the entrance to the time machine that ultimately led them here. They all have beef with Team Matic, or could have conceivably developed one in the meantime. They parted on all right terms, but who knows what has happened since then? The suspect is standing behind a desk, his back to her. She approaches him as he turns around to face her. She winces when she sees his face. “Who the hell are you?”