Microstory 2469: Gambledome

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Here’s the thing about gambling in a post-scarcity society...it’s not any fun! When money isn’t real, the stakes aren’t real, and there’s nothing interesting about it. The creators of Gambledome have managed to subvert this about as well as possible without completely shifting the paradigm of the economy. In Gambledome, money kind of is real, but only here. You start out with a modest amount of cash to spend on chips, and as you play, you win and lose those chips. If your stack starts piling up, you can cash them out, and spend it on things. You can get yourself a nice, luxurious room to stay in. You can spring for the (faux) lobster at dinner. You can give it away to your friends to make them like you. This is how it worked in other gambling communities on Earth back in the before-fore times, like Las Vegas. Here, it’s a recreation, which may make you think that your life can only get better, but that’s not true. If you run into the negative, you’re in trouble. You can’t leave the dome, and go back to the utopia that vonearthans have created since automation made fiat-based economies obsolete. You have to stick around, and pay off your debts. That’s right, there are real consequences. Some of the humans walking around as staff may be there because that is the experience that they have asked to be assigned while staying in the dome, but some are there because they have to be. Don’t come here if you don’t genuinely want to pretend to be an ancient human, because that’s the thing about gambling. You don’t know if you’re gonna win, and people lose all the time. A note on cheating: while they won’t torture you, it can land you in jail, where you’ll pay off your social debt by being locked up in a cell, unable to leave. We still have jails in the 27th century, of course, but the percentage of incarcerated individuals has never been lower, so this is rare. One woman lost her money on purpose, threw a tantrum, and tried to steal it all back, specifically so they would throw her in a cell, because it just doesn’t happen all that often anymore, and she certainly didn’t want to break any real laws. She didn’t want to go through the real justice system, and go to a real jail, where she might never get out. Overall, this place is a lot of fun, but only temporarily. I wouldn’t want to spend the rest of my life here, and I certainly wouldn’t want to live in a world where people are sincerely desperate enough to gamble because they think they have no other choice. I don’t know if Gambledome is fostering any real addicts, but I sure would be interested to know if it’s happening, and if it is, whether the creators have any plans to do anything about it.

Microstory 2311: Nice to Be Back

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Hello readers, this is Jasmine again. I asked Nick if I could write another guest post for his blog. This was obviously before he died, and it never ended up happening. I was having tea with Kelly this weekend, though, and mentioned it, so she asked me to finally follow through with it. I was gonna say a whole bunch of stuff back then that’s no longer relevant nor appropriate, but it’s nice to be back here. This website feels like home. When I was his assistant, I helped a lot with managing it, and making it look better than it did before. I rearranged some of the auxiliary elements, and reformatted some old posts. He had to use a number of different word processors over time when his life was all about staying in motion, so things were just a little messy in the beginning, but he had always wanted everything to be more consistent. Anyway, I’m still working at the jail, and things are going very well. He did a great job formulating this team, so if anyone asks whether he made a positive impact on the world, there can be no doubt. I’ve run into a surprising number of people who assumed the whole project fell apart when he was forced to leave, but that’s not how he set it up. Nothing was ever balanced on the shoulders of one person, not even him. We’re still working our butts off. We hope to see real changes in the system by the end of next year. For those of you who watched the memorials, I was present at both. I even spoke at both, so now you know what I look and sound like. It was my honor to relate my experiences with such a great friend. I’ll never forget what it was like to meet him and know him. I appreciate that he’s being kept alive, not only through the work he did, but through this site, and all of his friends, followers, and fans. It’s sad, but it’s sweet too. I’ll miss him, but at least I knew him at all. Thanks.

Microstory 2304: Blisteringly Cold

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People have been asking a lot about the Nick and Dutch KC Memorial Forum that’s coming up in the next couple of days, and really, I don’t have that much information about it. There’s a website where you can learn all you need to know. Or it’s a page on the metro website, or something. Please go find out about it from there. I am not organizing it. I compiled a list of everyone Nick and Dutch knew, or rather, everyone I knew that they knew. I left it up to the mayors to have their teams reach out to these people. It’s true that, out of everyone, I was one of the closest to them both, but they each had their relationships outside of this whole thing. Dutch has lived on this planet his whole life, and Nick met a surprisingly high number of people during his short stint. You’ll remember his assistant at the jail, and his parole officer. They knew him in their own way, and while I’m not sure if they’ll be speaking at the Forum, I know that they were at least asked. I will be one of the speakers, and I haven’t updated you on that either, because there’s really nothing to say. You’ll hear it on Saturday along with everyone else. If you live in the area, you may join us on the fairgrounds north of the Missouri River, but we understand if you can’t make it. The weather report says that it’s going to be blisteringly cold. They chose that spot, because it can accommodate a lot of people, but just like the Chicago memorial, you can stream it from the comfort of your home instead. It’s a BYOC (bring your own chair) type of situation, which might deter a few people. Could you imagine if the coordinators had to wrangle up enough chairs for everyone? They don’t even have a headcount. I believe that, all they ask is, if you don’t have a chair—or aren’t willing to sit on the cold ground—to head more towards the back. I don’t think it will be all too long, though. There aren’t a million speakers. Okay, I’ve told you more than I really wanted to take the time to do. Again, if you want details, look it up on the webpage. Thanks.

Microstory 2271: It Won’t Be Long Now

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It’s so much worse than we had imagined. After everything Nick has been through; traveling through time, bouncing around the multiverse, being trapped away from his friends, getting sick over, and over, and over again. At worst, we thought that he would be dead. That would have been horrible, but at least he would no longer be suffering. There were consequences to this blog that none of us foresaw. Learning that Nick’s organs fetched such a heavy price from a reputable and trustworthy businessman, an as-of-yet still at large basket of deplorables abducted my friend, and took him to a makeshift surgical theatre. You heard that right. There was clearly an audience to this thing. It was put together quickly, but it was made with great purpose. A surgeon tore into his body, removing both of his kidneys, his liver, his spleen, and even his gallbladder. I don’t know how much they intend to make for these stolen organs on the black market, but there’s no way these assholes aren’t going to be found. The authorities don’t have to sift through dozens of other dark web postings for organs. They only have to find the one that’s advertising miracle organs for an insanely huge amount of money. They’re going to get nothing, and then they’re going to jail. Meanwhile, my poor Nick will be dead. He’s not immortal anymore, and no one can survive losing that much of their key organs. The doctors have placed him on life support, but there is only so much they can do. These five organs are literally vital to the proper functioning of a human being. It’s true, you can donate half a liver, or one whole kidney, and be fine. Yes, you can be suffering from kidney failure, and be kept alive through regular dialysis. With the proper lifelong treatment, you can even live without your spleen or gallbladder. But you can’t survive if all of these things are ripped out of you all at once. He’s going to die if another miracle doesn’t happen, but I really don’t see that happening. Dutch is running around in a panic, opening every single door that he can find. He has even demanded keys from hospital staff for locked doors. He’s trying to make another connection to the bulk to restore the magic of Nick’s immortality for but a few minutes, just like he did when he came back here from another world. Needless to say, it isn’t working. What happened that day was a fluke. If an angel is looking out for Nick, I can’t imagine they have the inclination to do it a second time. Even so, I’m letting Dutch try, because it’s not hurting anything. Well, it is, he’s causing a disruption, but everyone here has been pretty cool. They know why he’s doing it. Me, I’m sitting at Nick’s bedside, holding his hand, and hoping that he can hear me. It’s really sad to say, but...it won’t be long now.

Microstory 2223: Goodbye

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People are evidently fascinated by my story, and have a morbid curiosity for my terrible prognosis. They want to know what it’s like, living with this day to day, and knowing that my life will be over soon. Well, it’s actually kind of boring. Since I don’t have the freedom to move around where I want to, and everything I do need to accomplish has to be planned out in advance, I mostly just repeat the same routine every day. I wake up at 07:15. For now, I can brush my teeth on my own, because my arm tremors don’t prevent me from doing it, especially not so early in the morning. It gets to be problematic later in the day, when my arm starts to kind of flail about more unpredictably. I guess the prions need time to wake up too. Anyway, after I take my first round of medicine, Kelly helps me with some physical therapy exercises for about an hour. After that, I need a break, so she plants me in front of the TV for maybe a couple of hours. At that point, I’m getting hungry, so she makes me something simple for lunch, usually a sandwich or a wrap, along with fruit and vegetables. I’ve never eaten so healthily, but that was always my problem, having to be inconvenienced by preparing the food myself. I’ve never cared that much about the taste or quality, it was always just easier eating something prepackaged, or delivered right to my door. That’s probably the best thing about having an assistant, be it a medical professional, or no. Then after lunch, Kelly takes me for a walk in the wheelchair, or if she’s being a big meany, the walker. I’m joking, I know that it’s good for me to stay active and mobile. There will come a day when even sitting in a wheelchair will feel like too much. The walk takes as long as I can handle it, because I’ve always needed a nap right after it, and in some cases, during. She usually has to wake me up to take more pills, and then I just stay awake for more TV, more physical therapy, dinner, more pills, and more recently, writing these posts. Finally, it’s time for bed. That’s pretty much it. Exciting, I know. It’s so interesting, in fact, I think I’ll start a vlog about it, so a company can offer to sponsor me, then get mad when things don’t work out (probably because I’ll be dead). So. You’ve all been writing me letters, and that’s a very lovely thought, but I’m not going to tell you where I live, I do not have a publicist, because it’s a waste of money at this point, and the jail shouldn’t be worrying about them. They have enough on their plate. Here’s the deal, if you send more letters addressed to me, they have been instructed to literally throw them away. They’re not even gonna open them. So please, stop killing trees for no reason. If you want to say something to me, you can send a quick message below, or catch me on social. I still might not be able to read them, though, because it’s getting harder and harder for me to keep my eyes open in front of screens. And my lifecare assistant isn’t getting paid for all that extra stuff. Thank you for understanding. Goodbye.

Microstory 2222: Magical Light of Some Higher Being

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Yes, it’s true, I’m back. Hello, my name is Nick Fisherman IV, and I am not from this world. I came here against my will, but I have since given up on any attempt to escape. I’ve suffered from infections, infections, and more infections. I’ve been homeless, on the run, in jail, set free, and hired for a huge job. I’ve gained everything I ever wanted out of my career only to watch it slip from my hands as my tremors got worse by the day. I’m not even typing this out myself. My lifecare assistant, Kelly has to do it for me. Some might not believe it, because she could theoretically write whatever she wants, and I wouldn’t be able to stop her, but I assure you that this is really and truly me. She’s been instructed to transcribe everything that I say, word for word, whether it makes sense to her or not. One day, this disease might start taking over my higher cognitive functions, but for now, my symptoms are all irrelevant. Well, they’re not irrelevant, of course, but they don’t prevent me from thinking, and my thoughts are all that I have ever been. So as long as I still think like me, I’m me, and as long as there is a chance that some part of me is still in there—even everything else is dead—then I still consider myself to be alive. I’m full code, so keep my heart beating until the money runs out. I’ve always felt this way, even before I had heard of DNRs, and all that stuff. My life is defined by a resting state of suffering and discomfort, with a little bit of happiness sprinkled in occasionally. So don’t worry about how I’ll feel about it when I’m hooked up and reliant upon life support machines, and hanging by a thread. I still want to stay in this world, even though it’s the wrong one. I’ve never believed in the afterlife, because honestly, that’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard of. Death is about the most ridiculous method you could use to be transported from one plane of existence to another, and anyone who believes in life after death is only fooling themselves. When we die, our bodies decompose, our consciousnesses lose coherence, and our souls recede. We don’t “go” somewhere else to start over, or even more absurdly, to live for eternity in the magical light of some higher being. You only think that that’s possible because someone with a grand imagination dreamt it up, not because we have any evidence that anything like that exists anywhere. The arrogance you must have to not be able to tell the difference between reality and your headcanon. I better end it here. Kelly is scolding me for not being nice. I’m told that people are entitled to their beliefs, as if stupid beliefs only affect the people who are clinging onto them, and haven’t caused all kinds of violence and pain in the world. Maybe tomorrow I’ll tell you about what I’ve been up to, instead of depressing you with my unglamorous philosophical position.

Microstory 2218: Each Glass That it Fills

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I made sure that Nick got a lot of sleep last night, because I knew that he was going to need his energy today. A bunch of his former team members wanted to see him, including one who he had never actually gotten a chance to work with before he fell ill. If you’ve been paying attention, you’ll know that Nick doesn’t love crowds, and he doesn’t like being the center of attention. Like the candle that does not lose its fire when it lights a second candle, extroverts feed off of each other. But like the pitcher that loses its water with each glass that it fills, an introvert can only be drained of energy. They give without taking. Even still, Nick did want to see the people who he had hired, so I coordinated times for them to be there for short visits. He needed breaks in between the batches, but we also couldn’t have the ordeal last all day long, so it was a very fine line. I’m not going to relate to you what they all discussed while they were in the apartment. Not only was I not there for all of it, but it’s no one else’s business. I can tell you that they did not talk about what’s going on with the jail. Nick’s position at the company, and as a contractor to the county, has been officially terminated. He received three separate final bursts of income. First, they paid out all of the sick leave that he had accrued, even though he wasn’t technically using it all while he was still technically employed. Secondly, he earned a bonus just for being a swell worker. Lastly, he was entitled to severance pay since it was decided that none of this was his fault. His bosses pretty much knew all of this was going to happen, but he had to wait for all the legal questions to be answered. He’s set for now, but this money won’t last forever. We’ll deal with that later, though.

Microstory 2203: Supported by Fans

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Okay, I’ve seen some weird stuff in my day, and I actually do believe in coincidence, because I’ve witnessed more variables than most people have, but this is so weird. It was extremely hot in my apartment when I woke up this morning. I was sweating through the sheets, and having trouble breathing. My air conditioning must have gone out pretty early for my thermostat to have been reading 26 degrees. The power seems to be okay. I placed a call with the super, so she’s been working through the problem. I didn’t think that it was too terribly urgent, because I was going to have to spend most of the day at work anyway. But guess what? The AC is out there too. It’s out across the entire jail. Fortunately, everyone in my team has been issued a laptop. When we’re at our respective workstations, we dock it so we can use the external IOs, but we can also carry them around if we would prefer to work elsewhere. The interesting thing about your world is that you’ve championed retractable power cables for your mobile devices. It makes the machine a little thicker, but this cable unit can be pretty easily removed if need be. If not, it makes for a quick getaway. Anyway, that’s not what’s important, because we would have made it work either way. The point of the story was that we were able to go to our Jail Counselor’s house to work there. It was a bit cramped with all of us together, but we’re very grateful for the option. The guests in the jail had no such choice. They spent extra time in communal areas, supported by fans, but all those people so close together made it so that it was more like two steps forward, one step back, at best. Now, I’m not here to discuss prison reform as a whole. Our mandate is to understand group dynamics, and nothing more. But it just goes to show how important it is to treat our incarcerated with respect and care. These people had nowhere to go. The county had plans in place to address it, but unlike you, who can just go to the movie theatre when things get rough, it’s vital to remember that some people have it rougher.

Microstory 2199: About Falling and Infections

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

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

Microstory 2198: Not My Business to Reveal

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I have a bunch of training to do, which I’ve been putting off while I do my actual job. I had other jobs during my life on my old Earth, and a lot of them required that we take classes. The first one I had as a lifeguard had in-service courses that we took while the pool was closed. Since then, jobs have mostly relied on online solutions. I used to like to do these quickly, so I could get them out of the way, but not this time, because I’ve been so busy. I don’t want to badmouth my organization, but you don’t have to remind me every few months to not sell my clients’ data. I don’t really talk about it, but every post I write now is being approved by the legal departments both at my company, and at the jail. That’s why they’re being uploaded later than they used to be, because it takes more time now. They understand that I can’t wait days for a daily blog post to be approved and ready, so they try to get to it right away, but this isn’t their only responsibility, so it can experience delays. The point is, even if I wanted to say something that they didn’t want me to, they wouldn’t allow it. I know, the training is important, but there’s a reason why I’m only getting to it right now, because my current staff has to do their own coursework anyway before we get too deep into the real work. I only did one bit of major work today, but that didn’t take long either. One of my new hires had to drop out for reasons that are not my business to reveal. They hadn’t started yet, so at least I won’t have to conduct the exit interview or paperwork. I will have to find someone to replace them, but it’s all right. We’re going to be able to get through this. I didn’t think that we would make it all the way without issue, which is why it’s standard practice to interview a number of people for one position. I’m not mad, and I don’t think anyone else in my company is. It happens; life, that is. Speaking of which, I better get back to mine. I need to finish this post up tout de suite, so I can get it down the pipeline.

Microstory 2192: How Frivolous

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This is a very delicate period of time in this process, and I won’t be able to say much as these offers go out. It’s not like I’ll be able to summarize the conversations I’m having with my future staff members (or not, as it were). Luckily, I have something else to tell you about today. Well, two things, actually. You remember my parole officer, Leonard Miazga, right? I didn’t really think that I would see him again, but it seems that we’ll be working together at the jail. He’s been hired by the county to work on that side, so he won’t serve directly under me, but he’ll be in the meetings with us, along with the correctional officer, and the reentry specialist. It wouldn’t have happened if I hadn’t named him on this site. Of course, the government knew who my P.O. was, but reading about him in my blog posts sort of stuck him in their brains, so when they were deciding who to hire, he was the first candidate that they thought of. Don’t worry, it was a fair process, but he ended up being the best for the job. You can guess why; because he’s not just a jerk who feels like he’s suffering through his work every day. He cares about his parolees, and that much was clear both from my anecdotes, and also his interview, as well as his references and résumé, I’m sure. The second announcement is that the lawsuit against me has been officially dropped. The company who sued me on the grounds that I damaged their reputation even though I never told you who they were finally relented. It’s shocking how long it took for them to realize how frivolous their case was. So now that it’s over, I’ll tell you who it was. Lol, psych! I still won’t, because that would be equal parts dumb and mean-spirited. I just want to lock the memory of the ordeal in my past, and leave it there. They’re doing fine, and I’m doing amazing, so there’s nothing left to talk about anymore. That’s all I got. What’s up with you?

The Advancement of Mateo Matic: June 4, 2456

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What they didn’t know before was that Kineret had a young daughter. She had been living in a remote bunker in the south with a nanny, but her mother’s relocation request finally went through. Kineret and Primus Mihajlović were busy with work off-site today, so Olimpia had agreed to babysit. Shay was sitting on the floor right now, playing with the model-sized Vellani Ambassador. Ramses was actually inside of it, in the middle of testing the habitability of the dimensional miniaturization technology that he had reverse-engineered from the box in the Goldilocks Corridor. The air was breathable, and the inertial dampeners were reportedly working okay. Propulsion was another thing, but given that it was literally a million times smaller than it would be in full form, that probably wasn’t necessary anyway.

Olimpia was sitting on an undersized chair in the playroom, elbow on her knee, and chin in her palm, watching the little girl play. But there was another reason for this game. “How you doin’ in there, bud?”

Communications were tricky too. It was garbled and weak, but they could still hear each other, and that was better than nothing. “Little nausea, but the dampeners are compensating. They don’t work perfectly great for any ship while it’s in gravity, so I’m not surprised. Nothing has fallen off my desk yet. Is she still swirling it around?”

“Jzhhoooooo! Jzhhoom!” Shay was exploring space with the toy ship.

“Sure is,” Olimpia replied.

“Great,” he said.

“Listen, I’m hoping that you can make a replica of the VA for her to keep. She seems to like it quite a bit.”

“That will not be difficult,” he answered.

There were three doors in this room. One led to the hallway, one to the bathroom, and the last to a closet. All of these opened at exactly the same time. A different man was on each side, and they were all very confused. Olimpia instinctively grabbed little Shay, and pulled her to the only wall that didn’t have any doors attached to it. She dropped the Ambassador as a result.

“What just happened?” Ramses questioned.

“Get out here immediately,” she demanded. Olimpia didn’t know everyone who lived in this bunker, so maybe someone might open the entrance, but not the bathroom door, and not the closet. Those were both empty. She had checked them, because she was a good babysitter who knew that Shay was in particular danger of a political attack.

Ramses appeared, and spun around when Olimpia pointed. “Who the hell are you people?”

The one who somehow ended up in the bathroom tightened the towel around his waist, held his hands up nonconfrontationally, and took a step forward.

“Don’t move,” Ramses insisted.

“Okay.” He breathed deeply. “I believe that you and I have met. My name is Elder Caverness, and I am currently training under the Transit Army. Is this a test?”

Ramses held up a finger. “Stay there.” He swung around so the other two men could see the finger. “All of you.” He then reached into his pocket to retrieve his handheld device. He was looking through the little database that the team had curated over the years, detailing everyone they could remember meeting, even before becoming time travelers. “Elder Caverness. Right, yes. I saw you get on the train, I was there.”

“You’re Mateo’s friend.”

Ramses was still suspicious. He held the device up to his ear after dialing a number. “Yes, this is Ramses Abdulrashid?” He waited for a response. “Yeah, one of the visiting alien people. Listen, did a giant spacetrain appear anywhere? Today, I mean?” Short pause. “Okay, thank you.” He hung up. “The Transit didn’t show up today. How are you here?”

“I don’t know.” Elder looked over his own shoulder. “I was in a bathroom, but not this bathroom.”

“I know you as well,” said the man standing in the closet doorway. “You were both there the first time this happened to me. It was just a minute ago, but we were somewhere else.”

Ramses eyed him. “Of course. You were in the Nexus. “You’re a long way from home too, unless this is your universe. Was the world ending when you left?”

“No.”

“Then maybe not. What about you? I don’t know you.”

The third man, the one by the main door, was also holding his hands up. “Hey, man, I’m just a gardener. I work at a nursery. I don’t know what you’re talkin’ about, with the Nexus, and the universes, and all that.”

“This sounds like Westfall,” Olimpia pointed out.

“Yeah, you called it that last time,” closet guy said.

“Is that a band, errr...?” the guy they had never met at all before asked. Maybe he too was from Salmonverse, but just didn’t know about time travel.

“Okay. Elder Caverness, and...Bay...”

“Baylor Alexanderson,” he reminded him.

“Yeah. Baylor Alexanderson. And you are?”

“Late for work.”

“What is your name, sir?” Ramses was not in the mood to joke at the moment.

“I’m Dutch Haines.”

“Dutch Haines,” Ramses began, “you’re from another world. I don’t know why you’re here, or who brought you, but you can’t go home unless whoever it was decides to send you. I’m sorry. We have zero control over it.”

Dutch looked down the hallway that he decidedly had not come from. He looked back at Ramses and shrugged. “Okay, cool.”

Ramses looked over at Olimpia. “I don’t think these guys mean us any harm, but your job is to protect the girl, so go somewhere else to do it. This room has been compromised. Take the ship, please.”

Olimpia knelt down to retrieve the Ambassador. She handed it back to Shay, then lifted her up against her hip, and teleported away.

“Whoa, shit!” Dutch exclaimed. Baylor was surprised too, but Elder wasn’t.

“Yeah. We can do that.” Ramses tried to think about what to do next. Protecting the girls was as far as he could figure out, but without Leona to make decisions, the decisions fell upon his shoulders. He wasn’t sure that he was up to the task. Ochivari were bad guys, this much was clear. He knew to fight them off if they ever showed up, but humans? How would he deal with this? What would the Captain do? He tilted his head to think, acutely aware that the men were still watching him, awaiting the answer to that question. What would she do? She would test them. He pointed. “Stand in a line, facing me.”

The three of them looked amongst each other, and agreed in their respective heads that Ramses was indeed the man in charge. Even if he wasn’t qualified, they didn’t know that. So they got in the line, and stood there patiently.

Ramses cleared his throat, and stared at them, focusing on their eyes. He wasn’t trained to study microexpressions, but maybe his intuition would show him the light. “Ochivari,” he stated plainly.

Elder furrowed his brow, disgusted by the name of their enemy. This was not surprising as the last time they saw him, he was going off to learn how to fight them. Plus, he even said that he was supposed to be training with the Transit Army. The other two didn’t react at all. He may as well have spouted a nonsense word to them. Either that, or they were sociopaths who he couldn’t read. Olimpia had confided in him that the Ochivari were using human allies to infiltrate this world so their plans could be carried out undetected. It felt wrong that this should be the case with these other two men. The way they showed up here, it probably was Westfall. The Ochivari had a weird and violent way to travel the bulkverse. It was noticeable; conspicuous. They couldn’t just quietly appear in a closet. They could, however, walk down a hallway, having arrived in this world at some other point. Elder and Baylor were probably okay dudes, especially the former, who Mateo would vouch for as a friend. Dutch, on the other hand, could be the enemy. This was why Leona didn’t want to tell anyone about the human infiltrators, because they did not know how to handle them yet. The only possible way probably involved getting one of them to confess, and using them as a baseline to suss out any others. Then again, the odds that they would show up at the same time were low if they were here for the same reason.

“All right, we’re gonna go on a little trip,” Ramses decided. He offered his hand to Dutch, who took it more out of curiosity, not knowing that he was about to be teleported to the wrong side of a set of metal bars. He came back for Baylor and Elder, relocating them to their own cells, right next to each other. They didn’t complain or question it. It was the only logical course of action, even considering what Ramses knew of them. He told the jail guards to treat them with respect, but to not let them out without authorization directly from the Primus. Then he left to relay the information to her.

“Why would you be worried about them if they’re human?” Naraschone questioned.

“Some humans are bad,” Ramses answered. “You know that as much as I. The reason you have jail cells in the bunker is because you sometimes have to lock people up. We’ve not been able to verify this information, but according to the Ochivar that Leona and Angela interviewed, some humans are bad enough to be working with them.”

Primus lifted her chin, but kept her eyes contacted with his. “We always knew that that was possible, especially after learning that they were from another universe. If there are an infinite number of them out there, it stands to reason that a handful of people would find themselves in accordance with the aliens. The statistics make it essentially impossible for there not to be.”

“Your team interrogated the Ochivar years ago,” Kineret pointed out. “Why are you only telling us now?”

“They were worried what we would do with this information,” Naraschone explained for Ramses. “Every single person in the world has now become an enemy.”

“No, there are people I’ve known my entire life,” Kineret reasoned. “If we can trace someone’s background, we can rule them out.”

Ramses shook his head, reluctant to argue. “No, you can’t. Bulk travel is time travel. Infiltrators may have shown up years before the war started, or centuries, or longer. Half the people on this planet may be the descendants of those who originated on some other version of Earth. You would never know. There’s no way to tell.”

“Surely there is,” Naraschone determined. “There’s something different about you, isn’t there? Given enough data, could you not find a way to detect—forgive me—foreigners? You should be able to use yourself as a baseline.” Hm. She came up with the same word that he had for this problem.

“We possess genetic data from nearly everyone on the planet,” Kineret continued. “We would have to requisition it, but that shouldn’t be too hard, given the fact that we’re in wartime. Compare it to your own DNA, look for differences.”

“My DNA is different,” Ramses explained. “I’m posthuman.”

“Well, what about our new prisoners?” Naraschone asked.

Ramses nodded, not because he agreed that that was the answer, but because it was technically a possibility. “I can take samples today, and I can start to run some tests, but I am no biologist.”

“Aren’t you the one who grew the bodies that you and your team now inhabit?”

“With the aid of centuries of prior research, and an AI. To do this, I would need to devise new technology. I’m not saying that I can’t do it; just not today. It would take me a year, and by then, your prisoners will no longer be locked up.”

“He’s right,” Kineret admitted. “We will not be able to hold them all year.”

“We won’t have to,” Naraschone decided. “If I’m to understand this correctly, only the Ochivari have the means to transport themselves to other universes, which is why we’ve never been able to allow them to roam free. We can keep these three people without actually locking them up. There is no legal time limit for how long you’re allowed to accommodate guests.”

“They can travel the bulk,” Ramses began to explain, “they just can’t control it. There is no guarantee that they will still be here next year when Olimpia and I return.”

“We’ll store the samples, and cross any bridge we must when we come to it,” Naraschone decided. Kineret was right, we’ll be able to request access to the global DNA database, but we would probably not be able to get it done by the end of today anyway. Let’s plan on starting this plan in one year’s time.”

There was a slight pause in the conversation. “Now that that’s been discussed, could you please transport me to my daughter?” Kineret had to make her job her number one priority, but she also had a responsibility to her family, and it was time that she personally made sure that Shay was okay.

Ramses held out his hand, but Naraschone reached for it instead. “First, transport me to the jail in the Executive Bunker. Then take Kineret to her daughter, and stay with them for support.”

“Very well, sir,” Ramses replied.

A year later, Ramses returned, and immediately began to work on the problem of detecting bulk travelers. It took the whole day for him to start getting the idea that this was not a DNA problem, but something else. He needed to be looking at the subatomic level. That could take even longer, so there was no time to waste.

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Microstory 2189: Not There by Choice

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We’re moving along with this process. Interviews, interviews, and more interviews. It’s not showing any signs of slowing down, but it will have to stop soon, and will do so rather abruptly. At some point, we’re going to have to make some hard decisions, and unfortunately that means a lot of great people won’t get the chance to be part of this pilot program. We can’t hire them all, it wouldn’t be practical, and that’s true of any organization. But here’s the good news: it is a pilot program, and if it goes well, you may be able to do something similar on a different team somewhere else. The analytics team in my company has looked into this for us, and have estimated that this program need only last for eight months before they would have enough data to reach some real conclusions about its efficacy. All eyes are on us right now to see if we succeed, but there are rumors of others who are considering building their own programs before our data comes in. We’re not sure if that’s the right thing to do, but we can’t stop them, and it may not be right to want to if we could. I think it’s fine to try to take your own shot, as long as you don’t spend too many resources on it, and come at it from a place of trying to make things better. Now, what do I mean by better? Well, here’s what it’s not. We’re not here to save the taxpayers money. That will hopefully be a consequence of our changes to jail and prison population procedures, but it’s not what we’re going for. We could accomplish that in any number of easier ways, by only feeding them slop, or doubling up on cell assignments, or not letting them have any yard time. You don’t need to pay many guards if you don’t allow your inmates to leave their cells, do you? Obviously, that would be inhumane, and I hope that no one else is suggesting it.

Our goal is to improve people’s lives, reduce recidivism, and create a healthier and more productive community overall. I hope that anyone who gets their ideas from us only accepts the good ideas, and rejects the ultimate failures. We’re going to be going through growing pains. At some point, our plans, theories, and models are going to become meaningless if we don’t actually institute the policy changes. It may not turn out well, and as difficult as it is for me to admit that, it would be unethical for me to imply that I know exactly what I’m doing. The entire point in hiring these experts for a team that has never existed before is to try something new, and by its very nature, we don’t know what’s going to happen. So I hope that other programs take that into account. Sorry to get all preachy, and maybe sound a little angry. I just want to make it clear that we’ve only just begun here. It’s going to take some time. The judicial system in this country isn’t going to change overnight, and nothing we do here is going to give definitive answers for how to handle our nation’s incarcerated with no exceptions. What we would like to do is group guests in our facilities according to predictive modeling of sustainable harmony, nonviolence, and social progress. But the fact of the matter is that everyone there will have been tried and convicted of a crime. Guilty or innocent, they’re not there by choice, so none of them is going to be happy-go lucky, and excited to be locked up for the next X amount of time, or intermittently, as it were. We’ll try to make it as safe and productive as possible, but there’s only so much we can do. It’s not magic, so don’t expect to bring the crime rate down to zero, or anything. Okay, that was a bit depressing. Hopefully tomorrow’s post will be more optimistic, or a little easier to swallow.

Microstory 2181: Occupy the Same Space

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I’m pretty much caught up on everything. All of the job postings have gone out to the career boards, and I can’t start in on any of them until human resources filters through them first. I didn’t even go into the office. I just stayed home, and remoted in using my personal computer. I think the warden doesn’t really want me doing that; believing that personal devices should only be used for personal business. So my boss is currently requisitioning a work laptop for home use, which they’ll ship to me this week. It will just serve as a portal, connecting me to my employer’s and clients’ respective servers. I’ve rearranged my apartment a bit, which I should have done before. For tax reasons, it’s important that I designate a particular area as my home office. That doesn’t mean I can’t use it for other things, but it needs to primarily be for this purpose. My new assistant, Jasmine helped me move furniture around, and we went out to buy an extra desk, so she can work across from me. Yeah, she could work in her own apartment, since she would just be right down the hall, but we both feel like it makes sense to occupy the same space. We did the same for my private office in the jail administrative section. I think that’s pretty much all I have to tell you today. I now give you permission to return to your regular lives, but be back here tomorrow morning at 8:15 sharp for my social post.

Microstory 2179: Moving in the Right Direction

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I’ve received word from human resources that my job descriptions have been approved for posting. I believe that most of them will go out to the job boards starting on Monday. There’s stuff that they have to do, with pasting my verbiage, and adding their own, like the company’s mission, hiring policies, and the location details. I don’t have to worry about any of that stuff myself, but if you’ve ever applied to a job online, you now what I’m talking about. If you’re looking for a chance, or you’re in between jobs right now, I encourage you to apply. We will be seeking an expert for each of the following positions: Behavioral Psychologist, Jail Counselor, Addiction Counselor, Conflict Resolution Specialist, Job Counselor, Logistician, Data Analyst, Computer Expert, Criminal Lawyer, Immigration Lawyer, Social Worker, Cultural Sensitivity Expert, and Community Volunteer. If you think you would be a good fit for these roles, please be on the lookout for the postings next week. We expect high interest. A few jobs are missing from that list, which will be filled in other ways, such as internal recruitment or direct offers. Note that some team members will be working for my employer as contractors to the jail, while others will be working for the county. We will all be on the same team, though, so for the most part, we won’t even notice. It will only affect the backend situation, like payroll, disciplinary action, and time off requests. I’ve mentioned the concept of co-employment before, and it’s a real danger, which is why I won’t technically be the boss of everyone on the team, only the ones who work for my company. For our county staff members, we will collaborate fully with them on a day-to-day basis, however, they will report to the warden instead. I believe that they are currently looking into creating yet another position to oversee those members, so I could end up with a partner of sorts, or maybe a liaison who doesn’t spend much time in the meetings. It’s unclear at this point, but we’re on track to reaching our target start date of August 1. On that day, we want all positions filled, all equipment and supplies in stock, and to be starting to do the actual work that we’ve been hired to do. So again, if you think you belong on the team, apply sooner rather than later, so we can keep things moving in the right direction. Speaking of keeping things moving, I have to get back to work. I’m predicting ten hour work days for the foreseeable future. That’s the thing about a salary job. I don’t ever clock out, and I always take my work home with me. I’m not complaining, though. I once had a job that only gave me a few hours a day. I could do whatever I wanted with the rest of the day, but I couldn’t afford rent.

Microstory 2174: To Be Distributed

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I had my last official meeting with my parole officer today. Since my sentence has been commuted, it’s no longer a legal requirement. You’ll recall that I was only assigned one in the first place because on paper, I went to prison, I just didn’t have to literally step foot inside of the facility. Well...I mean, I did later while I was staying in the infirmary section for my fungal infection a couple of months ago, but you know what I meant by that. I still have my community service left to do, but lots of people complete their hours without a PO at all, so the judge decided that I didn’t need one either. I hope that we can still be friends, though I recognize that this may not be appropriate, nor even possible. He’s a great guy who I think goes above and beyond in his job. He’s helped me out in a number of ways that I don’t think he was ever expected to. I’ve actually met a couple of his other parolees, and he wasn’t giving me any special treatment. That’s just who he is. He actually cares about us, and wants us to succeed, and isn’t just waiting for us to screw up. He derives no joy from putting people back in jail, though it has reportedly happened a few times over his career. I dunno, maybe I’ll just never see the man again. That would be all right too. I’m starting a new chapter in my life. I have a new job, and I still have to figure out what to do with all this money that y’all donated to me. It’s processing to my account. It could be a few days until it’s fully ready to be distributed.

I have some ideas of where it’s going to go, but I still need to do the math, because it’s going to be split amongst a number of different charitable organizations. They all involve the previously incarcerated. They need jobs, homes, and therapy to help them cope with being back in a world where their daily routines are no longer being controlled by someone else. Having been in intermittent jail, I didn’t experience much of this, I only got a taste. But it’s an overlooked characteristic of prison life. Yeah, for the most part, you’re not stuck in your cell 24/7, only eating slop, and drinking contaminated water. You usually get to go outside. But only at certain times, and for a certain duration. And it can be taken away from you if you do something that they don’t like. You can’t see your friends whenever you want, you can’t even choose your sleep schedule. That’s a hard life, but that doesn’t mean it’s easy to go back to the way it was before you were placed in there. I feel compelled to give back, so I suppose I should thank you for contributing to my unauthorized CauseTogether campaign. Do not take that as an invitation to start a new one in my name. I won’t tolerate that a second time, I’ll seek legal action, and if nothing else, make you look bad for not respecting my wishes. If you want to do some good for the world, then that website has a number of other campaigns that will be more than willing to take your money. Or you can start your own that doesn’t have anything to do with me. That site also has other features besides just temporary campaigns, so check those out. I’ll post the complete list of the organizations that I choose for the 50K later, so you can give directly to them too. You could perform community service too. When I’m better, I’ll be going back to Homes for Humankind, which actually has a special program that focuses on halfway homes, which have more specific needs. I’ll probably be giving them some money too. I know that it’s not an either-or situation, where you either donate or volunteer, but it does feel like I should kind of share the wealth a little more, doesn’t it?

Microstory 2173: Fighting the Cause Captain

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Today was meant to be a day of chilling. I’m done with my last job, and I’ve not yet officially started my new job. I was trying to have a short vacation, because I don’t know how crazy and hectic things are going to be. The facilities staff at the jail are working to get a workspace available to me for Monday. Hopefully they will not have worked too hard at it, because I’m sure I’ll be recovered enough to handle much of it myself. I really wanna get in there, and find and execute my own vision, since I know they have plenty of other work that they need to be worried about. That’s why I wanted to rest for the rest of the week, so I could be prepared for that. Unfortunately, my stress levels are through the roof. When you set up a charity campaign in CauseTogether.hope, there are a number of ways that you can format it. There can be an end date, or not. You can target a specific figure, and refund everyone’s money if it’s not reached, or only refund them if a given percentage of the goal isn’t received, which could be as low as 0%. They can even place a maximum amount, which when reached, will instantly close off all further donations. This should all be told to you upfront on the campaign’s page, so if you run across one that doesn’t divulge what they’ll be doing with your money, or under what circumstances they’ll charge you, report that to the administrators, because that goes against their policy. Anyway, for the campaign that an anonymous stranger set up to pay for my medical bills, they set a min/max of $50,000 with no target date in mind. Why is that number so high? Gee, maybe it has something to do with the fact that the person who did this “on my behalf” doesn’t know me, nor my financial situation. They don’t even know how much my total medical bills are. I wasn’t planning on telling you this, but after insurance, I was only going to have to pay roughly $14,000. I have really good insurance, because the company I work for has really good insurance options.

The CT campaign has ended, because they reached their goal in a matter of days, but I don’t plan on taking a single cent from it for myself. The only reason they reached this absurdly high goal was because I threatened to give the money to an incarcerated serial killer. I don’t think I was ever going to do that. I’ve not even researched who that might be, because I hoped that this remark would spell the end of it. It didn’t occur to me that some donors might give specifically to see that happen. What can a person serving life in prison do with all that money? Give it to corrupt guards so he can get a flatscreen TV, and a king-size bed in his own private cell? I really don’t know, and I don’t want to think about it anymore. I’m fighting the Cause Captain who is still anonymous, and asking for—nay, demanding—my banking information so that they can transfer the money to me. My lawyer says that they would have ways of sneaking me the funds even without my permission. Even though I could theoretically just leave that 50K sitting there in whatever account they ended up creating, people did sacrifice their money, even if it was for all the wrong reasons, so something should probably be done with it. I don’t know what. All I know is that I’m not taking it. My therapist advised me to not get so worked up about it. The deed is done, and I don’t have the power to refund the Cause Champions. I really should donate it to some other charity. Hit me up if you have ideas, I guess. Again, it’s 50,000, so it doesn’t have to only be one charity, if you guys send me multiple good ideas.

Microstory 2172: Better If I’m Flexible

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I had an appointment at the hospital today. I was going to see the doctor, but he was busy, so a couple of nurses just took care of it. They measured my vitals, and took notes. They also took images to have analyzed by a radiologist. I’m recuperating about as well as should be expected given the extent of my injuries. There’s nothing that I should be particularly worried about. They want to see me again in a few weeks just to be sure my x-rays continue to follow the healing pattern. While I was still in the appointment, I got an email back from CauseTogether.hope. They say that the campaign to raise funds for my bills doesn’t violate any of their policies, so they’re unable to take it down for me. If I want, I can further appeal the decision, but I shot off a quick text to my lawyer, who thinks that probably nothing will come of it. I’m actively advertising my medical condition to the general public. My only legal argument could have been that the page interferes with my sense of privacy, but I’ve already let that ship sail. My therapist told me that my decision to be brutally honest here would come back to bite me in the ass. Well, not in so many words, she said it. Anyway, my lawyer said that we could try to take legal action against them, but I’m still on the other side of a completely different legal battle, though one which is also about the transparency of my posts. Do I have a problem? Am I just making my own life worse? Should I be changing every thing about what I do with my time, and how I do it? No, that’s crazy. This site saved a kidnapped girl, and gave me a job. I can’t just ignore those benefits because it has also come with consequences. As they would say back on my world, the invention of the ship was the invention of the shipwreck. That doesn’t mean they should never have invented the ship. Where would we be without them? Isolated, monolithic, or maybe even wiped out.

I did receive some good news, though. A subscriber slid into my DMs with an idea for a position that could be on my new consulting team for the jail. They think that we should hire a Reentry Specialist. While our work will mostly focus on what to do with the guests while they’re staying with us—and for this first job, for people who only come in intermittently—we would still benefit from hearing from someone with experience in helping the formerly incarcerated adapt to life on the outside. And anyway, we’re hoping that this is more of a pilot program, and less of a one-time thing. We may branch out to other facilities if we can prove the method effective, or even inspire others to come up with their own ideas around the country, or perhaps the world. The subscriber who suggested this job says that she has experience in this sort of thing, and she would be willing to move here from Wyoming if we offered it to her. Of course, we’re not there yet. I’m still doing a little work for my original job at this company, but I’ve written it down, and we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it. Speaking of my current job, it will probably be over tomorrow. I’m just putting the finishing touches on the transition, and won’t need to be involved with any of that stuff for much longer. I think I’m just going to take a few days off of work, both to continue recovering physically, and to sort of reset my brain. My new friends for Homes for Humankind want to get together for a meal if I’m up for it, so I may do that. Their schedule is ever-shifting, but immovable once it does shift, so it will be better if I’m the flexible one. Hopefully we can get something on the books before I get back to the grind.

Microstory 2171: Not Gonna Happen, Buddy

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I’m feeling a lot better today, but I’m still taking it easy. It doesn’t take me five minutes to get from the bed to the bathroom anymore, so I call that a win. I have a follow-up appointment with the doctor tomorrow. They don’t technically have to sign off on me going back to work fulltime, but my employer will expect me to heed their advice, whatever it is. I won’t be starting my new contract work for the jail until next week either way. I’m currently in the middle of making sure that all of my work is being done by others on my team. They already had the pick up the slack while I was hurt and completely unable to, so it’s not like I have to spend hours training them. It’s protocol for us to share accounts so that we can fill in for each other as the need arises. We go on vacation, and it’s not like I was the first person in the company to take sick leave. So they know what they’re doing, and they’ll be fine without me until management can find a replacement. They’re probably going to be hiring a lot of people, both to fill out this new department that we’re building, and to backfill the jobs that become vacant from internal movements. They’re talking about hiring an assistant for me. They may only be a temp while I’m having trouble moving around in a physical sense. I don’t think that I need that, but at the same time, if they are willing to pay for it, who am I to say that this hypothetical future person doesn’t deserve the work? Back home, my sister was an international music teacher, who lived all over the world. It was often customary for her to have a housekeeper of some kind, not because she was suddenly in the one-percent, but because people needed jobs, and she could spare the money.

In my free time, I’m trying to come up with some initial ideas for how my new team will work. We’ll all meet together in one room, but I’ve broken them into four categories. The biggest one is for the counselors, like the behavior psychologist, and an experienced jail counselor. We need people on the technical side, like a computer expert, and a logistician. We’ll have legal too, like a criminal lawyer, and even a correctional officer. I’m thinking about including an immigration lawyer, because it may be necessary for some of the guests, but I don’t know about that yet. I don’t believe I’ll be putting a law enforcement officer on the team, though that could change in the future. Nothing has happened yet, and it’s not like we can’t hire new team members after the initial team is established. Lastly, there’s the social aspect, like a social worker. That might sound like it should be in the Psychology subdepartment, but I feel like there are more I can put in there who will deal more with community involvement than mental and emotional support. Obviously, all of this has to be approved by whoever my new boss ends up being, and the jail. Well, the jail can’t be involved in the hiring of the specific people, because that would constitute co-employment, and that is illegal. But they can give their input for what kind of positions will be on the team. After all, they’re the ones paying for the consulting. If we try to hire, say, an investment banker, or a surgeon, well...we may somehow find value in their contributions, but they get paid too much, so the jail would have the right to say, “not gonna happen, buddy.” They may decide that they only want one psychologist, or ask us to not hire a correctional officer, but let a current employee join our meetings. We’ll see. Let me know in the comments if you have any other ideas. I can’t spare the money for you, though.