Showing posts with label graduation. Show all posts
Showing posts with label graduation. Show all posts

Saturday, May 31, 2025

The Seventh Stage: Hit the Rock (Part I)

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It’s the year 2508 in the Sixth Key. Big things are happening today. For the last several decades, Cedar Duvall has held primary control over the entire galaxy. He had every right to this, according to just about everyone. It was he who saved everyone’s life when the four original parallel realities were collapsing. The main sequence was different. It was not going to collapse, and still hasn’t. Everyone who was in it during the Reconvergence is out there, living it up in another universe. If they were on Earth at the time, though, copies of them are also here. Every living organism was duplicated perfectly, and transported here along with everyone from the other realities. These duplicates have no hope of returning home. They’re here in this new reality now, and have had to make the most of it. Things were chaotic when this all happened. Trillions of worlds with their own agendas, divided into five civilizations of varying cohesiveness, and now only 400 billion stars to support them all. War for energy distribution was on everyone’s lips, and a small group of leaders had to come together for diplomatic discussions. These talks were successful, and the galaxy went on in peace, even though the diplomats had trouble returning to their homes, and most of them lost all power. Two of them got their power back, and they’re about to get more. Or so they believe.
Following the Reconvergence, the main sequence copies didn’t want to be known by their old nomenclature anymore, so they made the decision to create a new identity for themselves. In keeping with the apparent numerical pattern, they voted, and settled on renaming themselves The Seventh Stage. Their reasoning was that this placed them above even the Sixth Key itself, which referred to all civilizations collectively. This was effective according to some, but not so much according to the supermajority. Even so, it was their new name, and it managed to stick. The real main sequence was back in the old universe, and there, it would stay. The diplomats in charge of the Seventh Stage were a General by the name of Bariq Medley, and his second-in-command, Judy Schmidt. They did not get along all that well, but they weren’t overly antagonistic. In recent years, they’ve grown closer because they’ve had to in order to raise two powerful children.
Clavia and Echo were not really brother and sister, but they didn’t know that. The former was the avatar of a magical tree, and the latter a projected consciousness of, fittingly, a temporal echo. Clavia corrupted Echo, and tried to use him to gain even more power, so he turned the tables on her, and regressed them both to childhood. They now have no memory of their past life, and have been living as twin siblings under Bariq and Judy’s care ever since. Today is their sixteenth birthday, and that changes everything. This whole time, they have been cultivated and prepared to take over for Cedar. It’s time for him to step down. The thing is, though, while this has been in the works for some time now, Clavia and Echo aren’t mature enough to handle the responsibility. At least, their parents don’t think they are. Echo really warped their minds in order to rid the both of them of all evil thoughts, and it has made it difficult for them to develop. They still need their parents, who have experience with this kind of leadership. Bariq and Judy will still be in control here, even more so now that Cedar will be out of the picture. The twins may have other plans, though.
The time has come for the twins to ascend. They’re standing in their ceremonial robes behind the curtains. They’re not the only ones being celebrated and honored today, they’re just the headliner. They have to wait for the other graduates first. They’re trying to not look nervous, but they are. Judy comes up to them, and starts to make minor adjustments to the hang of their robes, none of which will matter in a few seconds when gravity and their movements readjust them anyway. She just wants an excuse to talk to them. “How are you two doing?” she whispers.
“How are you?” Clavia asks her mother. “This day is as important to you as it is for us. I know how excited you are.”
“I’m great. This is what we’ve been working towards.” She breathes, and gives a sad smile to her son. “Echo?”
“It’s not right.” Echo doesn’t agree with anything that’s happening here. Cedar has been a good leader, and it’s not like he made every decision unilaterally. There are way too many people spread across way too many worlds for him to know everything that must be done to keep the joint-civilizations running. Still, he’s been number one this whole time. Doubling that to Echo and his sister, or even quadrupling it to the whole family, isn’t going to be much better. It doesn’t sit right with him. It’s not democratic enough. Unfortunately, it might get worse before it gets better.
“I know it bothers you, but this is the only efficient way to manage the universe right now,” Judy tries to explain yet again. “Even with all of our technology, we’re talking about undecillions of people. If we tried to vote, it would take years.”
Frustrated, Echo takes his mother’s wrist, and pulls it away from his collar. Gently, though. “Then it takes years. That’s what they should have been doing while we were growing up; figuring out how to coordinate a legitimate democracy.”
“Not all of the minor worlds recognize Cedar as the Sixth Key,” Judy says. “Getting them to get on board with a vote will be even more difficult. They simply don’t want to be a part of the new civilization.”
“So we take power instead?” Echo questions.
Judy sighs. “If we hold a vote, and some refuse to vote, it will call the results into question. There would be those who wonder if they truly refused, or if we didn’t let them” She brushes the non-existent dust off of his shoulder. “This way is cleaner. This is how the Tanadama ran things in the Parallel, and it seemed to work for them.”
“They were treated like gods,” Echo reasons. “So is Cedar. So will we once the people realize quite how powerful my sister and I are. I don’t wanna rule with an iron fist. I don’t wanna rule.”
“I’m not talking about this anymore.” Judy remains calm and self-assured.
“If you just look at my proposal—”
“This is your Ascension,” Judy interrupts. She’s been a good mother; kind of caring, but not very flexible. “I won’t be looking at anything today except you two on that stage, accepting your new posts with grace and poise. Do you understand?” she asks with a wide smile. It’s not really fake, but it’s not entirely genuine either.
“Echo, just let it go,” Clavia urges quietly.
The Assistant Stage Manager, dressed in all black, hustles up to them. “It’s time.”
“Okay, you’ll do great,” Judy tries to say.
“It’s really time, right now,” the ASM presses. “Let’s go, let’s go.”
“Okay, go,” Judy says, ushering them towards the curtains.
Echo and Clavia step into the limelight together. The crowd has been cheering for the other graduates, but they cheer much louder now at the sight of them. They smile and wave, just as they practiced. Echo is faking it, of course, but Clavia isn’t all that excited about this either. She doesn’t like the attention. Unlike her brother, she does want power, but she would prefer to operate in the shadows. That’s where all the important business gets done, where people can’t see it...and scrutinize it. She has improved from her original self years ago, but their parents worry that she’s heading back in that direction. Whatever was in her that gave her a weak moral compass is still there. Yet the debate between nurture and nature rages on, because she’s not evil. She’s been raised by good people, and Echo is here to keep her in check. She’s not sure that she agrees with Echo’s proposal for a galaxy-wide democratic republic, but she loves and supports him, and certainly wants to see what he has to offer.
The two of them stand center stage. They’re meant to go over and accept their diplomas and medals from the presider, but that can wait, because this is what the audience wants. That’s not all they want, though. “Hit the rock!” they chant. “Hit the rock! Hit the rock!” This is something that they do. It’s just a fun little handshake that only works with the two of them. Others may be able to approximate the move, but they can’t replicate the grand finale, unless maybe if they integrate certain technologies, like some sort of concussive weapon. Clavia holds her hand behind her ear like she can’t hear the audience. They chant louder.
“Okay, okay,” she relents, using exaggerated gestures since she’s not wearing a microphone. She gets in place in front of Echo, and he does the same. They begin by punching the air between them without touching, but quickly move on to the next phase. Their fists make contact in the middle, and as they’re pulling their elbows back, their opposite fists meet. Then they return to the first one. They go back and forth over and over again, getting faster and faster until it’s just a blur to anyone else, even if someone were to stand right next to them. Faster and faster still, the crowd is going wild. They’ve obviously done this before, but never with this many viewers. The whole galaxy is watching too, not just the people in the auditorium. Faster, faster, until boom! Without speaking, they reach back with both fists at the same time, and bring them back together for one final move. An intense force is expelled from their hands, and spreads out in a sphere, knocking caps off of people’s heads, and a few chairs over. Several people spill their drinks, but they should have known better. It’s not one explosion either. There’s a reason his name is Echo. A second wave, a third, and a fourth crash into the audience to their great delight, followed by a fifth, sixth, and seventh. They could have made more, but given the numerology of the day, limiting it to seven seemed appropriate. Again, they didn’t discuss this beforehand; that’s how in sync they are. They might as well be actual twins.
The enthusiasm remains strong for a few moments afterwards as they continue to smile and wave, but they do sense that it is fading. Deciding that the ceremony should be over roundabouts now, Clavia and Echo take each other by the and, and reach for the sky before a deep bow. Six bows later, they let go, and begin walking down the runway, still encouraging the audience to clap and cheer. The ASM catches up to them in the aisle between the runway and the seating. “You’re not done yet,” she whispers loudly.
Clavia nods. She teleports to the presider, and takes the diplomas and medals from him. She then teleports back to Echo so she can hand him his. They wave and smile some more until the end of the walkway. They slip through the doors under the balcony, and breathe sighs of relief. It’s over. They’re technically in charge of the Sixth Key now. It is expected of them to openly secretly grant all decision-making powers to their parents until they’re considered mature enough to take over in a more official capacity, but that’s not really what they’re gonna do. “You ready?” Clavia asks.
“Let’s do it.”
They teleport away. The Cloudbearer Dynasty has begun.

Saturday, May 10, 2025

The Sixth Key: Getting Their Rocks Off (Part IV)

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Clavia taught Echo...well, seemingly literally everything. She explained how the universe works, why it exists, and who exists in it. She told him about the people who were in charge, and those who simply lived their lives the best they could, ultimately having little impact on the events that unfolded. He was particularly taken in by her lesson on something called The Illusion of Self-Divinity Hypothesis. The theory seeks to understand why people conjure religious and spiritual concepts that go against scientific principles, and are very obviously untrue. They believe in God—or some kind of divine force—in order to establish themselves as the true source of power in a cold and indifferent universe. Science is true. Of course, it’s true, but it’s just as irrelevant as anything else that conscious beings come up with. Whatever is true about how reality works is true whether people understand it or not, or accept it...or, indeed, even if no one is around to contemplate the truth. They have no control over this, and that is a frightening idea.
If people have no impact on the grander truth of reality, what is the point in living? Their existence is insignificant. Humanity as a whole appears to be just as meaningless, so why continue? To protect themselves from this particular hard truth, they come up with tenets of the divine. Many philosophers have postulated that humans do this because they take comfort in the supposed meaningfulness of existence, and that’s probably true as well. But the core of these religious thoughts comes from the individual’s psychological need to hold power. Believers of a given religious school may all believe in basically the same thing. They have the same idea of the divine being, and that this being created them and the universe for some sort of reason. But each individual can come up with their own particular set of sub-tenets. This is important on its own, but their ability to shift their personal tenets at will is what’s key here.
If humans invented God, then humans must be more powerful than God. Since no version of God truly exists, the divine being’s power is wholly within the headcanon of the individual. This effectively serves to make the believer the god-being themselves. They can change their minds about the underlying rules of what they believe to be an ordered universe. Clavia seems to believe this one lesson to be particularly important as they talk about it at least a little every day. Their education lasts for years, all the while, the mysterious second wave of visitors or invaders keeps heading in this direction. She starts to regain some of the special power and knowledge that she had before, but she still can’t explain what’s taking them so long. Or she won’t. Echo decides that he’s going to be okay with this. She’s entitled to her secrets, just as she respects him with his. They spend most of the time in the dreamscapes that she constructs, so they can explore the inner workings of the universe through real examples. Today, all that apparently ends. She’s decided that he’s ready to graduate. They’re doing it in base reality.
Echo stands there on the top of the hill, looking down at the ground below them. He’s meant to picture an audience, but it’s not working. Well, of course it isn’t working. It’s not like he can just magically summon people for real. But his imagination, it’s just not very good. There’s no way to know if he was born like that, or if his upbringing resulted in the deficit. Really, it just makes him sad. He’s proud of himself, and he wants people to see it. He just wants to see people in general. Clavia’s simulations aren’t real. He wants real. The audience materializes.
Dozens of chairs suddenly appear on the ground, and a few seconds later, they’re all filled. At first, he starts to wonder if this is Clavia’s doing. She promised to always make him aware when they’re in a shared dream, but she doesn’t necessarily have to keep that promise. She’s fully capable of tricking him. But he doesn’t think that’s what this is. The people in the seats, they’re confused. Clavia’s a little confused too, but not panicking. She puts the tablet where she was tweaking her speech away, and stands back up. “Ladies and gentlemen, I know that you’re quite perplexed, but I assure you that you are entirely safe. If you will just bear with us, all will be explained.”
“Did I do this?” Echo asks her in a whisper.
“Of course you did, dear. You’ve always been able to do this.” That can’t be true. Clavia walks over to the wooden podium. “Thank you for coming to the first annual School of Clavia Graduation Ceremony. The Class of 2500 may be small, but he is mighty, and I hope all of you will welcome him into the Sixth Key with open arms. As he is our only student, Mr. Cloudbearer is valedictorian by default, but make no mistake, he would have earned this spot either way. In a group of a hundred trillion, I have no doubt that he would still be sitting up here with me today, preparing to give a speech.”
Echo stands up to whisper to her again. “I don’t think I can do that.”
“I told you to prepare a speech,” she reminds him.
“Yes, but I always thought I would be giving it to the wind. Now that there are people to hear me, I don’t know if what I wrote down is right.”
“Just speak from the heart,” she says. It’s a cliché, but reasonable advice.
“Okay.” He’s still nervous, but determined. At least he’s determined to be determined, if that makes any sense. He’s about to sit back down so Clavia can finish her introduction, but she points to the podium with both hands, indicating that she already is. So he steps up to it.
“You got this,” Clavia encourages as she’s sitting back down.
He looks out at the crowd before him. Some of them are still confused, but they’re intrigued more than anything. It seems harmless enough; a graduation ceremony. No one has tried to run away or attack them, or even stand to question. He’s gonna be okay. This is gonna work out. “I was born alone.” Wait, that’s not what was in his notes. “I did not have parents.” That isn’t true at all. “I didn’t even have a planet.” That’s really not true. They’re standing on it right now. “I had to create it myself out of random scattered atoms in the void. I don’t know how I did this. I just knew that I had to. I had to...make form. My consciousness was floating in the nothingness for who knows how long. Still, even with two arms, two legs, I was alone. I conjured new lifeforms in my imagination. They cared for me, and taught me how to live. But it was really just me. I know everything. I know...everything.” He points to someone in the front row. “You may look like Leona Delaney, but you are Arcadia Preston. How would you like to feel like yourself again?” With a wave on his hand, she transforms into someone new. The man next to her is stunned, but pleased. It’s her husband, Vearden Haywood.
“I am the divine manifestation of your reality,” Echo goes on. “You have been chosen to come here and bear witness to the rise of my power. You live in different parts of the galaxy, and originate from each of the five original parallel realities. I will send you back to where you belong, and you will tell of my grandeur. You will warn the leaders of your society that they are nothing compared to me. You will halt all wars, and cleanse yourselves of all hate. You follow me now.” He pauses for effect, and it’s enough time to get himself out of the trance, if only for a little while. Who is this man, resonating Echo’s vocal cords, and flapping his lips? He is no powerful divine entity. He’s just Echo Cloudbearer; a simple man leading a simple life on the outskirts of civilization. None of what he’s saying is true, and it’s certainly not right. He turns his head to look at Clavia. She’s smirking. Or is it more of a grimace? He didn’t do well with his emotion detection tests. He might not be cut out as valedictorian after all.
Clavia gestures for him to continue.
His darker self is trying to take back over. The real Echo can’t stop it. He’s not strong enough. He didn’t know that he needed to fight. Clavia never taught him. He studies her face one last time before his chin forces itself away. She’s quite happy. This was her plan all along. She was never teaching Echo anything. She was fostering this other evil force. She was turning him into this. He lets go. “I am the man who invented God, and became God. There is no truth beyond what I make it. There is no will outside of mine. I am all that exists, and you are all still alive...because I deem it so. Please know that I ask this with absolutely no sincerity.” He takes another dramatic pause, but Echo’s good soul is too weak to break free this time, and resume control of the body. It’s over. “Are there any questions?”
There’s an explosion in the back. Over a dozen people appear out of the spacetime tears, and reassemble themselves into solid beings. He doesn’t recognize any of them, except for one. She looks exactly like Clavia. She doesn’t stand there with the same air of self-importance, though, and she doesn’t appear to be the leader. Someone else steps forward. “My name is Hogarth Pudeyonavic. I am here to negotiate for the freedom of the citizens of the Sixth Key. My first demand is that you release the prisoners.”
“They’re not my prisoners,” Echo insists. “They’re my audience.”
Hogarth holds firm. “If you do not send them back to where they belong safely, I will do it myself, and send you somewhere not so safe.”
“It’s okay,” Clavia decides, placing her hand upon Echo’s shoulder. “We don’t need them anymore.”
“What did you do to me?” Perhaps the good part of Echo does remain.
“I helped you come out of your shell,” she replied. This is the real Echo. Everything you told these people is true. I’ve shown you. You just need to put the pieces together.”
Echo turns his head forwards again. While he’s contemplating Clavia’s claim, he waves his hand again, and spirits the audience away. The exploding invaders are all that’s left, but he’s not paying them any intention. He’s going back over his lessons. He’s rewatching the Big Bang, the coalescence of Earth in the Sol System, the splitting of reality, the Reconvergence, and the consolidation of the former peoples of these realities. That’s not it. That’s not what she’s talking about. It’s something else. Something small. No, someone small. She’s curled up in the middle of nothing, trapped in the space between spaces. She’s trying to find a way out, and back home to her friends, but growing frustrated. She shouts. Energy flows out of her, and into the void. Within the cloud of infrasubatomic dust, a galaxy takes shape. It’s small, but only from this perspective. Hundreds of billions of stars, waiting to be populated by the refugees. It’s the Sixth Key, and above it, its creator. Olimpia Sangster. He wasn’t born alone. She is his mother. And he has to find her. He scowls at Clavia.
“Oh, shit,” she says. “That’s not what I meant.” This asshole tree is goin’ down.

Friday, June 28, 2024

Microstory 2180: Secretary is a Dirty Word

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My neighbor and new assistant has agreed to let me tell you her name, and a little bit about her. I didn’t ask her if I could do this; she volunteered, thinking that it didn’t make much sense for me to keep referring to her by her relationship to me. I try to keep the specifics about other people out of my posts, and not reveal too many details about them, in order to protect their privacy, but I can also see how it may feel impersonal and detached. I hope that no one else is experiencing any such issues. Anyway, Jasmine Soun is 29 years old. She’s from St. Louis, Missouri. After she graduated from St. Louis University, she decided to leave all of her belongings behind, and just start driving. She stayed on the road for four hours, and the only reason she stopped is because she ran out of gas. She had made it to Kansas City by then, but wasn’t too near a gas station. She had to get out, and walk the rest of the way to buy a gas can, and fill it up before making her way back to her car. It was there that she met her future boyfriend when he offered to give her a ride. He also offered her a job at the gas station, and she didn’t have any other prospects, so she accepted it. That’s the kind of person she is, a real go-with-the-flow type. He would later convert her to vegetarianism, which was what made her have to quit her job before too long. She didn’t like selling the types of foods to which she had a moral objection. I can very understand that. Fast-forward about six years, and she’s no longer with that guy, but they keep in touch. She’s had a number of jobs since then, but just before I hired her, she was a secretary for the Vice President of Manufacturing at a computer hardware company that specialized in memory modules, so she has decent experience, which means that it’s not a cronyistic hire. Back in my home universe, secretary is a dirty word, filled with a historical context of misogyny, and an imbalance of power through a gendered dynamic. People in this world apparently never had that problem, so the word doesn’t have the same negative connotations. Sure, it’s not like it’s a coveted position, admired like astronauts, but it’s not shameful either, and it hasn’t been traditionally dominated by women either. No job really has been; I find that interesting. And on that note, we better get back to work. Say goodbye, Jasmine. She says hello.

Thursday, November 9, 2023

Microstory 2014: Utah

Promontory University is a college in Utah that’s near Salt Lake City, to the north. The city is named that because it’s next to the Great Salt Lake, which is a really big body of water that has salt in it, like an ocean. It actually has more salt in it than the oceans. I don’t understand how it works, but Mrs. McKinney told me that she’s going to teach us the water cycle in a couple of months, so we’ll probably all learn more about it. Anyway, after the big trip in Europe, my papa decided to go to Promontory University. My grandma said that it was only about 2 and a half hours away from where they lived. So he was able to be out of the house, and learn how to be an adult, but he could also drive back home, and then back to his dorm in only one day if he really needed to. I don’t think he ever had to do that, though. He loved being at school. It’s where he learned the skills that he used when he got a job. That would not happen for a long time, though. After he graduated, he joined the military, but we’ll talk more about that in a few slides when I talk about Rhode Island. At Promontory University, he studied Architectural Engineering. That’s what people use to draw out buildings before other people build them. But he didn’t do much with buildings. His work had more to do with vehicles. That will come up again later too.

Wednesday, November 8, 2023

Microstory 2013: Maine

I’ve been telling you stories about my papa going all over the country, but that’s not all he did. He also went to other countries. After he graduated from high school, he and his parents didn’t think that he was ready for college. He wasn’t stupid or too young. They just thought that he should do something else first. A lot of people do something called a gap year, which is when you wait to go to college. This often means traveling to other places. What my papa decided to do was to go on a big ship all the way from the United States to Europe. Specifically, he went from Maine to Portugal. Portugal is a country in Europe where they may sound like they speak Spanish, but it’s actually its own special language called Portuguese. They speak it in Brazil too. Papa did a lot of driving, but he flew in planes sometimes too. This time, he flew to Maine, and stayed for a couple of nights before the ship left. It left from a city called Portland. You’ve probably heard of the Portland in Oregon, but there’s also one in Maine. The ship was this really big thing called a freighter. They carry a whole bunch of cargo across the ocean. Even though it was really big, there weren’t that many people on it. Papa didn’t work for the ship company, but they let him ride for very little money as long as he helped clean. It took three weeks. When he got to Portugal, which the capital of is Lisbon, he spent another couple of nights there, and then he started to backpack all over Europe. The whole trip took him about four months. Dad thinks that papa went through a storm in the middle of the ocean, but he’s not sure, and he obviously made it home safe and sound.

Thursday, September 22, 2022

The Advancement of Mateo Matic: July 20, 2398

Andile didn’t want to say much else after dropping that bomb on them about the alternate version of Leona. She said that it wasn’t her place to explain. The other Leona’s flight would come in the next day, and they could ask their questions then. So that’s what they did. They went back to the condo to fill in the rest of the team, and waited. The others wanted to come too, but the other Leona apparently didn’t know them at all, so it would probably just be overwhelming. The next morning Alt!Leona answered the door, not surprised, but yes, unnerved at the sight.
“Thank you for coming again,” Andile says once they’re seated.
“Thank you for having us,” Mateo says.
It becomes evident that Alt!Leona wants to talk first, but she needs them to be patient with her. Lips closed, almost pursed, she stares at the space between Mateo and her alternate. “I trust you’re doing well?” she asks Mateo.
“Yes, I’m fine,” Mateo answers.
“It’s nice to know there’s at least one Mateo out there who didn’t die.”
“Actually, he did die,” Mateo’s wife, Leona clarifies. “A few times.”
Now Alt!Leona purses her lips fully. “Well, at least he came back.”
“Leona, what happened?” Leona asks her self.
“I’m going to tell you my story,” Alt!Leona begins, assuming nothing about what you’ve been through. I may tell you things that you already know, and you’re just going to have to accept that, and be patient. I also don’t want any commentary about how things played out for you, or anything like that.”
“Understood,” Leona says.
Alt!Leona begins. “When I was nearing my sixteenth birthday, a friend of mine suggested I try alcohol, because drinking alcohol is the type of thing that normal teenagers do. So I did, and it went poorly. It made me sick—not enough to have to get my stomach pumped, but I had to go to urgent care just the same. I was sitting across from a man in the waiting area, trying to retch into a bag, when I ended up getting some on him. Long story short, I figured out who he was, and went to his house to apologize. That’s when everything changed. I learned that he was a time traveler, but not in control of his own life. I don’t know who was in control, if anyone, but I, admittedly, fell in love. He and his situation were fascinating, and I couldn’t just let that go.
“I probably would have become a film student in college if not for him. Instead, I pursued a physics degree. I wanted to understand what was going on with him. We met another; a teleporter, and she led us to believe that there were others. There was this one other guy too, but we weren’t really sure what his deal was. Anyway, I learned that an organ transplant might allow a normal person to take on the temporal characteristics of a traveler. Lucky for me, I was suffering from some kidney problems, which I might have been able to deal with, but I didn’t want to, so I started to not take very good care of myself. I needed a kidney transplant, and as luck would have it, Mateo was a match.
“Obviously, this process normally takes a long time, but we couldn’t wait for the bureaucracy. Mateo only existed one day out of the year. Through my connections, I was able to find a surgeon who was willing to perform the surgeries under unusual circumstances. Let’s just say that he had lost his license for a similar infraction years prior. This was the biggest mistake of my life, and seeing a version of Mateo sitting here hasn’t helped, like I hoped it would after Andile called to tell me that he was alive. The surgery went bad, and Mateo died. After a year of mourning, I discovered that his death didn’t prevent me from becoming like him. I guess it just delayed it. I only made one jump before I was approached by a stranger with an offer.
“She told me that it was her job to rescue people from the timeline. She said that I was in a different reality completely, and I could stay here, and not be on my pattern anymore. I only did it to be with Mateo, so that seemed like a good deal. Before she disappeared, she reintroduced me to Andile, and I never saw her again, so I never got the chance to ask her why it didn’t work. Instead of freeing me of my pattern, I just ended up taking Andile with me. I didn’t mean to. It’s not like I gave her my kidney too. At most, I touched her during a hug. Maybe you have an explanation for it.”
Leona and Mateo nod reverently, as they have been during the story.
“Do you?” Alt!Leona asks.
“Oh, sorry, we didn’t want to comment.”
“It was more about not being interrupted,” Alt!Leona straightens out.
It was hard for Leona to hear that story. She has met other versions of people before; even of herself, but this one is a lot different. This Leona didn’t spend hardly any time with Mateo, and never built a team. She and Andile have pretty much been alone this whole time. That changes a person. “Everything happened to me just as it did for you, until the surgery. A time traveling doctor did it for us, probably following what went wrong in your reality. Someone must have wanted things to play out differently, so they altered history. Normally, you would cease to exist as the result of that, but when you’re dealing with parallel realities, that all gets more complicated. Who was this stranger who told you this would free you of the pattern?”
“Her name was Olaya,” Alt!Leona answers. “I don’t know if it was a first or last name, but she didn’t give me any other.”
“Never heard of her,” Mateo says.
“Nerakali did say that there were other teams, but I don’t remember if Jupiter did. That was back during his era,” Leona says.
“So, do you know the answer?” Alt!Leona asks again.
Leona shakes her head. “Olaya should have been right. This place doesn’t have time travel, or at least not much of it. We don’t think it ever did. My theory is that that’s why it was created in the first place.”
“You did eventually lose it, though,” Mateo says. “When did that happen?”
“It was about three months ago,” Alt!Leona replies.
“Three months and twelve days.”
Mateo and Leona exchange a look. “That’s when we arrived. We did this to you.”
“You helped us,” Andile corrects. “We don’t want to time travel. We just want to stay put. I mean, we could do without the shady government people chasing us all over the country, but that could have happened either way. People crave power.”
“Do they know about you?” Leona asks. “If anyone would recognize you, then they probably know that there are two of us. And they know that there are two Angelas, so all in all, they know too much.”
“I don’t think they know about me,” Alt!Leona tells her.
“They only caught me,” Andile says apologetically.
“And you’re one of a kind.” Alt!Leona reaches over to take Andile by the hand.
“Look,” Leona begins, “I know you don’t want to have anything to do with this stuff, so we’re prepared to leave, and never mention you again, but I don’t feel like that’s enough. If you want to be somewhere safe, it’s not in this city. I don’t know where it is, though. I don’t know how to help you.”
“We don’t need your help,” Alt!Leona claims, “but we may be able to help you.”
“How might you do that?”
“I heard them talking while I was being transported to the fishbowl,” Andile says. “They’re looking for someone more valuable than any of us. And I know where he is.”

Wednesday, September 21, 2022

The Advancement of Mateo Matic: July 19, 2398

Leona got lucky back in the timeline that they used to just call Reality Two. K-State University assigned her a roommate for her first semester in college, which was the spring of 2018. Andile Mhlangu was a year younger, but already a sophomore, having skipped the third and seventh grades. Her former roommate was a night owl partier, who didn’t like how strict Andile was with her schedule. Andile was actually okay with the incongruent living arrangement. She grew up with four siblings, so she knew how to study and sleep amidst a lot of noise, and a little chaos. The old roommate felt bad, though, and got tired of tiptoeing around, so she decided to go live on her own. She reportedly got herself a note from her doctor, claiming to have social anxiety, which is what allowed her to secure a single dorm room, despite having missed the registration deadline by months.
Andile, meanwhile, needed a roommate of her own, or she would have to start paying for a double as a single, which is kind of a bullshit rule that the university shouldn’t have had. Fortunately, Leona was there to fill in after graduating from high school a semester early. The two of them didn’t become great friends, but they got along very well. They kept pretty much the exact same schedule, maintained comparable work loads, and had no use for the noise. They occasionally had dinner together, but didn’t know each other’s secrets, or anything like that. They continued to be roommates for the next three years after that. Andile decided to stay there for grad school, so they moved off campus together. Even then, they weren’t great friends, but Leona didn’t want to risk being assigned someone crappy, and Andile still couldn’t afford to pay full rent anywhere.
After Leona received her bachelor’s degree, she was accepted to grad school in Colorado—once more starting in the spring—so she had too move out of the apartment, but she agreed to pay Andile her half of the rent for the next semester anyway. They remained connected through social media after that, but still from a healthy distance. A few years later, Andile paid back the extra rent, with unnecessary interest, after getting a great job at a prestigious laboratory. Then she disappeared; fell completely off the map. There were two theories: one, that she was abducted or dead, or two, that she was working for the government, or some other clandestine organization. The second option wasn’t all that crazy. She was sure smart enough to be doing something like that, and she was in a good position to be recruited. When Leona became a time traveler in 2028, she theorized that Andile was, in fact, a time traveler as well. It might have been true, but no one she met along the way had heard of her, and the investigation ran cold, especially since she was so busy with her own stuff. Then the timeline reset, and the new version of Leona didn’t even meet Andile in the first place. She hadn’t thought much about her until yesterday when Kivi dropped her name.
Winona was surprised to hear from Leona, and not be yelled at about something, but not surprised when she heard that it was for a favor. Then she was surprised again when she learned that the favor was providing Leona with Andile’s location, but quickly realized that it made sense. Senator Morton locked up Andile for a reason, and while the Honeycutts were apparently not cognizant of everything that Morton knew, it was entirely plausible that her imprisonment was for the same reason as the team’s. There are at least three sides to this war, including Leona’s, the Honeycutts’, and Morton’s. How those two relate to one another remains a mystery that Winona refuses to divulge at this time. That wasn’t good enough for Leona, who demanded something for all the trouble. Winona agreed with this assessment, and was half-prepared to comply with the request to find Andile, but half not. She was reluctant to hand over the information, citing a desire to protect Andile from further disruption of her life. The plan was evidently to get her out of town, much in the way a witness protection agency would. Leona has a hard time believing that.
It’s taken a day, but Winona has finally come through, and now Leona and Mateo are at the safehouse. They open the gate for the really tall front yard fence, and knock on the door not sure what kind of person they’ll find on the other side, or how she’ll react to this development. Mateo ran into Andile once when he came to visit Leona that first semester, but that was well after he started jumping through time, and again, this was in an old reality. Neither of them expects her to recognize either of them, but especially not him.
Andile smiles when she opens the door, as casually as she might if she were expecting a friend, but not for a few hours, once she’s finished cooking a meal. “He told me an old friend would be stopping by.”
“Who told you that?” Leona questions.
“This guy. He called himself a seer.”
That makes a bit of sense, but it doesn’t answer their real question.
“How did you get here? Did the seer tell you how to travel?”
“Let’s talk alone.” Andile pulls her inside gently. She offers them a seat on the couch. “I didn’t believe him when he first approached me, but he started out making simple, yet hard to explain, predictions, so I started to believe. I started to trust him. He didn’t tell me that I would end up in this world—there was a lot he didn’t tell me, in the end—but the last thing he said was, once you’re safe in the brown house, an old friend will be stopping by. The next day, I found myself in this reality, and now I’m sitting in here. It’s brown, wouldn’t you say?”
“You found yourself in this reality...in the year 2398?” Leona asks.
Andile thinks that’s funny. “Oh, no. Noooo. It was 2026, just like it was where we’re from.”
“So how did you get here?” Mateo asks, “Or have you just lived long enough?”
“I only spent a few years there. My friend brought me the rest of the way,” Andile says cryptically. “It wasn’t 370 years, like it was for most people. To us, it was more like 370 days.”
Now that is a surprising response. “Andile, who is your friend?”
Andile hesitates for a moment, but resolves to answer. “Leona, it...it was you.”

Wednesday, August 3, 2022

The Advancement of Mateo Matic: May 31, 2398

The team sits around the table, prepared to have dinner together, but not yet ready. Ramses is methodically walking around the condo, waving his wand at every wall, every floor, every object; sometimes more than once for good measure. They believe that they’ve been pretty sensitive to his needs, but there is a limit to their capacity to indulge him. “Rambo,” Marie says, but has to stop when her own grumbling stomach interrupts her. “This is the third time you’ve done that today. We’re all here to eat. Come to the table.”
“Yeah, it’s the third time, and I’m not with it yet. You think I’m gonna stop at two and a half? I just need a little more time.”
“You ain’t got more time,” Marie pushes. “Now we’re all here to celebrate Angela’s pending graduation, and you’re going to be a part of it.”
“Just one more room,” Ramses begs.
“No, it’s fine. No one snuck in here in the last three hours, and planted bugs. They would have to contend with our bugs!”
“I’m just trying to protect you in the only way I’m capable. I was once the only engineer, but now that everybody’s constantly studying, where does that leave me?”
“With any luck, at the dinner table,” Marie responds to his question, instead of trying to console him.
“Honey, he’s going through something right now,” Heath says, hoping to help.
“We’re all going through something,” Marie dismisses. “Angela has to steal my identity, Leona was just taken hostage, Mateo was...also just taken hostage, you recently quit your job, and I have to have an abortion.”
Ramses stops scanning for listening devices, and drops his arms depressively.
“You promised never to play that card,” Angela scolds.
“Why is everyone attacking me now?” Marie questions loudly.
“No one’s attacking anybody,” Leona contends. She stands up. “Ship or no, I’m still the captain of this crew. Ramses, come let us eat. Marie, be a little nicer. Mateo?”
“Huh, what?” Mateo wasn’t really paying attention. He’s too hungry.
“Pay attention,” Leona orders. “And Angela?” They hold their breath, not sure what criticism she could possibly have of Angela. “Congratulations,” she finishes.
“I’m not graduating anything,” Angela argues. “I’m just decent enough at my doppelgänger’s job to fake my way through a shift from here on out.”
“Pretty impressive, if you ask me,” Mateo says, hoping it’s enough to make it seem as if he’s been listening this whole time. He knew a kid like that in grade school. He would always answer one question, ask one question, or make one comment, per day. Sometimes it was very small and inconsequential, but that way, the teacher couldn’t claim that he never participated in class. He had some anxiety problems which otherwise made him the furthest anyone could be from the class clown, so that sort of thing was always a struggle for him.
“Well, the real test is tomorrow in the meeting.”
“I thought you had dealt with a meeting by now,” Heath says, digging into his potatoes, now that Ramses has surrendered.
“I’ve been to a meeting, yes,” Angela explains, “but I’m running this one.”
“It’s a big deal,” Marie says, trying to sound supportive, but realizing immediately that it also makes it sound like a lot of pressure. “You’ll do great.” Saved it.
“Thanks, but...”
“But nothing. You’re me, and I rock in those meetings, so you will too.”
“Who was that guy we met in the simulation?” Angela asks. “Somehow, we ended up teaching him how to play horseshoes? You remember?”
“Oh. Uh, Cyrano. What about him?”
“Well, we saw him at that restaurant something like fifty years later. He had won a ghosting mod in a raffle, and was using it to—”
“Oh, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah,” Marie recalls. “He was, like, hypnotizing people to make them say weird things to their dinner dates? I don’t remember how he did that part, or why we were able to see him. But yeah, I remember him. Why?”
“You could basically do that,” Angela suggests. “I could wear an earpiece and video glasses, and you could just tell me what to say, and how to act in the meeting. That way, I wouldn’t be able to screw it up.”
“Oh, right, that’s a great idea!” Marie says, giving Angela some hope. “Oh, but no, there’s a problem with that plan.”
“What?”
“The problem is I’m not going to do that.”

Tuesday, March 29, 2022

Microstory 1852: No Friends

My dog and I were born on the same day. He was one of the first faces I saw when my parents brought me home from the hospital. Their neighbors didn’t realize that the dog they adopted was pregnant, so they needed people to take in the pups. Frankenstein and I grew up together. There are tons of photographs of the two of us snuggling together in a shared crib. Back then, there wasn’t anything you could do with the photos you took except put them in a physical album in case company came by, and asked—or agreed—to look at them. I was really attached to Frankenstein. I always considered him to be my brother, and I didn’t really have friends beyond him. It probably didn’t occur to me that we weren’t actually related until I was much older. I think I recall asking why we didn’t look alike. My older human brother just laughed, because he thought I was a dummy. He confirmed that I didn’t make up this story once we were well into adulthood, and expressed regret at laughing at me, and just in general mocking my relationship with Frankenstein. As you can imagine, I didn’t take it very well when he died. It’s the cruelest thing God did, making humans live so long, and our pets live so short. That didn’t make any sense to me, and I struggled with my faith a lot after it happened. My parents were concerned, but they didn’t want to be overbearing, so they let me tread my own spiritual path, knowing that it could lead me into atheism. That’s precisely what it did. I decided that it was the only explanation for my pain, and for the pain of so many others. Either God exists, and he’s evil, or he doesn’t. I would much rather it be the latter. The former is such a horrifying prospect. I can’t believe people live their lives under such obvious oppression. My family didn’t disown me, but we did drift apart.

I had to forge a new family with the people that I met along the way. I sort of collected them from the various groups that I was a part of. One guy was on the football team with me. We were drawn to each other, because we both enjoyed the sport, but we weren’t passionate about it. We taught each other that that was okay. I met a girl in one of my classes that I got along with real well. She didn’t know the footballer, in case you’re wondering. Lots of people play sports for their schools, but for us, it was a separate thing. I had a part time job at the grocery store, where I hung out with another guy. I met a cool girl in college. It was about two hours from home, so it was hard to stay in contact with the others. Once I graduated, and started working full time, I strengthened my connection to my old friends, and built some new ones, but eventually realized that after all this time, they still didn’t know each other. That had to be remedied. I decided to organize my own birthday party, even though I hadn’t really celebrated it before. It was just an excuse for them to finally meet. These were the most important people in my life; it was ridiculous that they weren’t friends with each other. It didn’t go well. Politics, religion, general personalities; everything clashed. They tried, they really tried. None of them went into that dinner with the intention of hating the others, but things just kept getting worse. If two of them agreed on something, another disagreed so adamantly that it overshadowed that whole part of the conversation. For the next few months, we continued to try finding some common ground, but never could. I then tried going back to just keeping them separate, but that no longer worked. I drifted from them too, and I haven’t had a friend in decades. Isn’t that just the saddest story you’ve ever heard?

Monday, April 5, 2021

Microstory 1596: Graduation Day

Prompt
I’m finally here. I’m the first person in my family to graduate from college. I scan the ceremony audience, looking for them, but stop in horror when I see...

Botner
...what the hell is that thing in the darkness?

“It’s terrible!” Dr. Perez jumps up and cries. “Don’t let him in, that beast was bad, evil. They slaughtered him in a ceremony. We just sat there, waiting for death, watching evil things perform terrible things to prove the worth of evil people.”

Professor Felix Hall (there are no atheists in a church) thanks everyone for attending and says, “they took him to hell for all his wickedness. In fact, they took him several times. He ended up in some horrifying ceremonies, twisted in pain and suffering in some horrible, horrible ritual. Everyone’s gone, the families gathered together, those kids up there, they’re watching a man die right now.”

Dr. Perez cries, “but he’s alive, he’s in hell, in a...

Conclusion
“...spiritual sense, but his body is back, and he’s angry!” All that time he spent down there twisted his soul, and he’s here to wreak havoc on anyone who was part of what happened to him. The rest of us—the students and familie—are just caught in the crossfire, and he doesn’t care who he hurts. He might barely be able to tell who his targets should be. I don’t feel bad about those people, but I feel compelled to protect the innocents. I went to school so I could avoid hunting monsters, but I seem to be the only one here who knows what the heck is going on. I don’t think my family ever showed up to support me, which makes sense. They’re always tracking and killing, they likely forgot. Anyway, the monster is heading for a small group of people trapped against the stage. He’s slow, so he hasn’t been able to hurt anyone yet before they could run away, but these kids can’t escape. I run down the aisle, knocking some chairs out of my way, and leaping over others. It’s like the evil monster can smell me, because he turns around and gasps. You would expect a roar, but a gasperdemon can’t make sounds by expelling air, only by breathing it in. He’s not just trying to intimidate me, though. He wants to make himself grow larger and more powerful, so when he breathes in, I’ll be sucked in along with all the diplomas and graduation caps. He’s new, though, so he doesn’t understand his own limitations and weaknesses. I start picking up the chairs, and throwing them at him. He manages to knock a few away, but he continues to grow, forcing his little arms so far back that he can no longer reach up, like a T-Rex. Instead, he breathes in the chairs, and other debris. He can’t bite down on them either, or it’ll start to reverse the process, so all this stuff just builds up in his mouth, and eventually, he chokes on it. He didn’t deserve what happened to him when he was a man. He didn’t deserve to be dragged to hell. But there’s no fixing him now. There was nothing I could do for him but end his misery, and unfortunately, save his tormentors from his wrath. Next time something like this happens, though, they won’t be so lucky. I’m going to grad school.

Thursday, January 14, 2021

Microstory 1539: The Case for Skipping College

I did not like ________, so I’m not sure why I’m being asked to attend ________, let alone speak to my ________ class about some nonsense or ________. I wasn’t bullied, or ________, but I was always very ________. The subject ________ never mattered to me, and I barely ever tried. You can actually make pretty good ________ as a car ________. Some treat it as this really ____y job you have to get if you’re not ________, but that is not ________. First of all, you do ________ have to be educated; it’s just the kind you’re not going to get from ________ school. Sure, some ________ have special programs, but that takes up a lot of ________, and costs ________. It’s much easier to ________ by having a car—preferably a really old and beat up ________ that needs a lot of ________—and working on it on your ________. I could not convince my ________ to let me opt out of college, but I’m doing it ________, so they’ve pretty much disowned me. They’re only here ________ because they’re hoping ________ across this stage is somehow going to magically change my ________. It’s not. I’m not going to spend ________ years and thousands of ________on a waste of ________. It’s 20__, we don’t have to do this stuff anymore. Plenty of ________ don’t go to ________, and they lead very ________ lives. Not ________ can be the CEO of a multinational ________, and it’s foolish to dig yourself into a mountain of ________ just on the fraction of a ________ chance that it all comes ________ for you. I choose to be ____istic, and I won’t ________. Don’t worry, I’m not going to say any of this during my ________ speech. I just have to get it out so it doesn’t weigh on me. The ________ is that I don’t care about any of ________, or any of these ________, and nor do ________ care about ________. I was only asked to speak because I managed to ________ up the highest number of ________ service hours. I did it on my own, and didn’t tell my ________ in the hopes that she would have me recognized. I was just trying to explain why I never got into ________ or other after school ________, because I was too busy. I don’t know how to talk about ________, or the things that I ________. I was just trying to ________, and the way I see it, getting ________ for it publicly defeats a lot of the reason I do it. So, what do you ________? What should I tell these numbnuts that’s both what they want to ________, and what still lets me stay true to ________?

Monday, June 8, 2020

Microstory 1381: Vibes

Office Manager: Welcome, Recent Graduate.
Recent Graduate: Thank you.
Office Manager: Based on our interview, I see no reason you won’t thrive in this work environment. Still, we would like you to get to know the team before you begin next week. We called this a suitability interview, because that’s what legal says we have to call it, but it will be really informal. Don’t stress about answering questions, or anything. Just act like you’re at a party. Don’t emulate Office Drunk, though.
Office Drunk: Hey, I heard that.
Office Manager: Great. So go on, mingle. I’ll leave you all to it. I already know I like this guy.
Office Motormouth: Hello, hi, how are ya? What’s goin’ on? You feelin’ good? You’ll be sitting here, right next to me. New hire always gets the old office chair. Have you lived in Hillside your whole life? Do you have a boyfriend or girlfriend? Do you have any kids? What do you wanna be when you grow up? I don’t suppose you want to be an office assistant your whole life. You just graduated from college, right? What did you major in? Would you major in that again, if you could go back and start over?
Office Aspirant: Stop overwhelming the boy, Office Motormouth.
Recent Graduate: No, it’s okay. I can handle it. I was born in Hillside, but moved to Kansas City before I could walk. I came back here for college, and decided to just stick around. I do not have a boyfriend, nor any kids. I’m here to climb the corporate ladder, and go as high as I can go, so being an assistant is just the beginning of my career, but I have no current plans to leave the company to work somewhere else, if that’s what you’re asking. I did just graduate, of course, with a general education degree. I like to learn about a lot of things, and pinning myself down to just one field of study seemed too normal. No offense, I hope. If I could do it all again, I would do it the same way. It got me here.
Office Motormouth: Oh. Those are great answers. Now—
Office Aspirant: You’ve had your turn, Motormouth. Listen, kid, you remind me a lot of me when I was your age.
Office Busybody: That was, like, two years ago.
Office Aspirant: I had aspirations, just like you. And look at me now, I already have two direct reports. You could be just like me one day too, if you work hard.
Office Busybody: Those aren’t your direct reports, Office Aspirant. They put you in charge of the seasonal temps this year, because no one else wants to do it. They don’t actually answer to you, though.
Office Aspirant: Don’t mind her.
Office Busybody: No. Don’t mind him.
Recent Graduate: I’m looking forward to working with all of you. Equally.
Office Motormouth: Another great response.
Office Busybody: Anyway. Those temps I was telling you about? Well, they’re sleeping together. But word is that Seasonal Temp 2 also has a thing going with Accountant from accounting. But you didn’t hear it from me.
Recent Graduate: Hear what?
Office Busybody: Good boy.
Office Creep: So, speaking of sleeping with people, if you could sleep with any celebrity, who would it be?
Office Motormouth: Office Creep, stop being a creep. You’re gonna make him call HR on his zeroth day!
Recent Graduate: No, it’s okay. But. I’m not going to tell you that.
Office Drunk: Do you have any mints?
Recent Graduate: I do, actually. Right here.
Office Drunk: Hey, is that a purse?
Office Aspirant: It’s called a satchel.
Recent Graduate: No, it’s a purse. I carry a purse, because it’s 2018, and men can have purses. I don’t believe in gender roles.
Office Drunk: Right on, right on. Hey, we’re probably gonna grab drinks after work. Are you in? What’s your favorite bar? What’s your poison?
Recent Graduate: I don’t care to drink much. I’m sure I’ll just get something with a lot of sugar to cover the taste of alcohol.
Office Drunk: A man who knows what he wants. I agree with Office Manager; I like this guy. Come on, new guy, lemme show you what’s what on this floor.