Microstory 2316: Earth, August 23, 2178

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Dear Corinthia,

My father had to extend his diplomatic mission, which happens all the time—he had already extended it twice before this—but he calls every time, so I was able to confront him about his involvement in our separation. I would have preferred to speak with him in person, but I didn’t want to waste any more time, because there’s no telling how long this will take. We really need that food and the medical supplies, and they just can’t come to an agreement with our neighbors. I believe that he will make every effort to return as soon as possible, though, as delaying a real talk will only give me more time to hear the truth from you instead. He would have rather gotten ahead of the narrative, but of course, we both know that he had every opportunity to fess up, and never did. In the meantime, I’ve been trying to find anyone who may have known our parents back then, but he and I came to this habitat alone a year ago. So far, no one here has been of much help. I did meet a rather old woman who believes that such awful practices were not unheard of four decades ago, and there’s apparently precedent that goes back even further. Back in the early days of space exploration, there were two famous sets of twins who were studied for comparison. One would go up into space, while the other stayed on the ground. That’s how they learned that low gravity changed the immune system, and even genes. There were other twin studies throughout history, such as when one turned out to be really intelligent, and the other not so much. This old woman thinks that these experiments became more ethical over time, but started to backslide as governments lost control of society, and corporations started being able to make up their own rules. It’s hard to know for sure what I can trust about what this woman says, though, as she’s made some more outrageous claims, like that aliens walk among us, or that she once met an immortal mystic man who was born in the nineteenth century. Anyway, I’m quite curious to know more about how Vacuus works. I know that it’s quite dangerous to live on an airless world, but what does that do to people? What kind of laws do you have? Would you call them fair and reasonable? I should think that a mission that included a kidnapped baby would be rife with corruption and amorality, but I truly hope that things have changed since then, and you at least feel safe and happy with the people around you. Write back when you can.

Love (I hope it’s okay to say that),

Condor Sloane

Microstory 2270: This Global Investigation

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It’s been all over the news, so I’m sure you’ve already heard about it, but I’ll tell you what’s going on from our perspective. Nick has been abducted. Those men in suits who showed up on our doorstep, and gave our personal security team their credentials, were not affiliated with any government branch. Though don’t blame our security, because the authorities are about 90% sure that these were not random amateurs who got drunk one night, and decided to try for some ransom money. They’re highly trained professionals who probably used to have the credentials, so they know how to make fakes, or something similar. That is currently the most promising lead, hunting down military vets who were dishonorably discharged, or even missing in action. Everyone is doing everything they can, and they will catch these assholes, sooner or later. We do not presently know the motive, but we’re guessing that it’s political. They don’t want Nick to meet with the President, or vice versa. It can’t possibly be that they’re trying to turn him into a double agent, or something, right? I mean, I seriously doubt that the DPA is going to let the meeting move forward now anyway. No, they want something that Nick can offer today. We have to figure out what that is, and use that information to determine who wants that, and where they’re holding him. The frustrating thing is that he could be on the other side of the world by now. They took him so early in the morning, and it was hours before anyone knew that anything was wrong. We thought that it was above board. They knew things. They knew things about the plan, which probably means that this is an inside job, and at least one person still working in the right position in the government is feeding them the info. That’s another angle that will help the agencies find who is responsible for this travesty. We’re going to get our man back, and those who did this to him will pay for it. Governments from other countries are even reportedly cooperating with this global investigation. If the perpetrators manage to find anywhere to hide, it won’t do them good for long. [This post has been officially approved by the Diplomatic Protection Authority for posting and lawful redistribution.]

Microstory 2112: Been Burned

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Sorry to worry you. The ID makers who were looking for the girl didn’t hurt me. As they were closing in, I slammed my laptop shut, and took off. That’s why I didn’t get a chance to technically finish yesterday’s blog post. I then forgot to stop the scheduled social media post where I imply my demise from going out. Those kind of time-delayed messages might work great for other people, but with my terrible memory, it’s just a dumb idea. So from now on, if I die, you won’t see one final post that suggests that’s what happened, you just won’t ever hear from me again. In reality, everything turned out okay. The girl is safe, and on her way to finding her real family. She agreed to an emergency DNA test. They still don’t know who her parents are, but it was enough to determine that the couple who raised her were not related to her at all. They were a thousand miles away, in pursuit of her. They only found me, which I thought would indeed result in my death, but it obviously didn’t. One flaw in this plan is that it gave the two of them a head start on their escape from being caught by the authorities themselves. In luring them away from her fake daughter, I necessarily kept them away from anyone who might hold them responsible for their despicable actions. I reached out to the federal government, but they might never find them. And anyway, it’s not my problem anymore. I’ve done all I can for the situation. Now I have to figure out what I’m going to do with my own life. I’ve been burned. The Kansas City cops know that I had been hiding in Iowa, and that I ended up in Alabama, so I can’t stay here, or go back to either of those places if I want to stay free. I could try to sneak down into Mexico, or wind my way up north to hide in Canada instead. Neither option sounds particularly appetizing to me. The U.S. has strong extradition policies with both neighbors in every version of Earth that I’ve been to. I think the best thing I can do now is turn myself in. I’ll do it, but I have some conditions. You can punish me, or make me pay, for what I’ve done in any way that you see fit, but I refuse to acknowledge your belief that I’m not from another universe. You can think whatever you want about me, but you’re not going to brainwash me into falling in line. Even if that means that my punishment is enhanced in some way, then fine. As Selena Gomez says, I won’t apologize—why should I apologize? No, I won’t apologize for who I am. I’m done running, though. No need to come pick me up. I’ll be there soon.

Microstory 2111: I Did Not Kidnap The Girl

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It’s been a few days, so I can finally be honest with you. I did not kidnap the girl. Her so-called parents are the ones who did that, but I’m not the one who got her out of that situation. As soon as she told me what she remembered about her past, I reached out to my old social worker for guidance on my secure network. I told him that I didn’t think that she was safe, and later that local law enforcement was not doing their due diligence to help her. I can reveal to you now that this was all happening in Iowa. I’ve been to Chicago several times in my life, and more than once, I got there via train. So I couldn’t tell you when this specific instance was, but basically, I would have to pass through Iowa to get there, and one time, I stepped off the train for maybe thirty seconds when we made a stop, and then got right back on. Besides that, my only prior experiences with Iowa have involved driving behind incredibly frustratingly slow drivers. I hate Iowa, I never ever wanted to come here, and even though you didn’t know that about me, I felt like it was the best place to hide. Maybe psychic powers really do work to a very low degree, and you could sense that in me. Who knows? Anyway, when I started worrying about what would happen to this teenage girl if she had to go back to her captors, I asked my social worker for help. He has a lot of contacts, many of whom work in various government departments. He called a friend of his who works in the FBI. They have a special program for this very thing. To my knowledge, it’s not used very often, but it’s quite important when it’s needed. They are the ones who took the girl, and I agreed to pretend that it was me in order to throw the ID makers off the scent. My ability to stay secure and hidden from them was deliberately flawed, so they would follow me instead of her. And it worked. I made it all the way to Alabama, which is another state for which I don’t have a lot of love. They’re outside right now, sniffin’ around, looking for my exact location. I normally like to write these in a word processing program, and then copy it over to my blog, but I’m working right in the blog this time, so it can post automatically, even if they find me before I have a chan

Microstory 2110: That’s Fair, I Hope

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I took her. I intercepted transport from the group home back to where her kidnappers live, and I put her through what she’s already gone through twice now. Someone took her from her real parents, and then the ID makers took her from them, and now I’ve taken her from them. I honestly don’t know if it was the right thing to do, but I had to get her away from those people. She outed them as her abductors, and even though they’ve reportedly never abused her before, she was living in misery, so this may push them over the edge for all we know. They might kill her, and make it look like a suicide, which would make them my archnemeses. I really don’t know; the level that these people are unpredictable is ten, ya see? We’re both on the run now, and I obviously can’t tell you where, or it might get back to the Ol’ Man, and the Ol’ Miss. My little secure workstation is mobile, though, which is how I’m able to post this without being traced. She is four months from turning eighteen, at which point, she’ll be able to make her own decisions. She says that her first order of business will be to submit to a DNA test, so they can find her true family. We can only hope that she is in the system. If I have to keep her safe, and everyone at bay, then that is what I’ll do, regardless of what happens to me in the end. I can’t really say much about what we’ve been dealing with since last night, because I don’t want to leave any clues about our location. We could be in Mexico by now, or close to it. Or maybe we’re on a boat in the middle of the Atlantic ocean, or even a southern state where they like to play golf. All I’ll say is that she is safe with me in every way possible. I never thought I would do anything like this, but I will never hurt her, and I won’t let anyone else hurt her either. She is free to go whenever she wants, and she understands that. If she ends up deciding to just go back to those people, then I’ll drive her there myself, and finally just turn myself in...for everything. That’s fair, I hope.

Microstory 2109: Conflating it With Her Own Life

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This world is so weird. Because the girl is under eighteen, she can’t consent to a DNA test, and since the couple who claims to be her parents obviously won’t consent to it for her, the lazy coppers are just gonna send her back to them. I’m still in contact with her, and she told me that the authorities ran whatever facial recognition system they have access to. They apparently didn’t find a hit in the missing persons database, but that doesn’t mean anything. She was taken when she was a toddler, and their age progression software doesn’t sound very sophisticated. The girl doesn’t have any idea where she was born, or who her real family is, but one thing I do know is that she is backing up my story. There was a chance that she was screwing with me when she told me about her resurfaced memories, but she also insists to the police that she really does remember living with someone else in her younger years. The cops think that she just watched something on TV one time, and she’s conflating the memory with her own life, but she doesn’t think so, and neither do I. So far, no one has found me in my hiding place, but I’m about to put that all at risk yet again. I’m going to do something drastic to solve this problem. It could get me caught, or truly killed this time. I need to focus on planning everything right now, so I’m going to cut this installment short. If I’m able, I’ll detail the undertaking for you tomorrow. I’m scheduling this one to post on my blog for sometime after I start the process, so by the time you read it, I will already be on my way, and they won’t be able to prepare themselves for me. You can wish me luck, if you want, but it won’t help, even if such psychic power were possible here. Temporal psychic powers would do it, if you had those.

Microstory 2108: My Total Withdrawal

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One thing that the couple who set me up with this untraceable computer cage didn’t realize is that I pay attention to the things that happen around me. I watch the cable guy installing my TV and internet. I watch the cashier ring up my items at the grocery store. I even watch the mail deliverer sort and scan the pieces of mail as they approach my door. There is not a single vending machine, janitor’s closet, ATM, car hood, desktop computer, or anything else like that open that I pass that I don’t inspect to the best of my ability. I’m not very handy, I don’t generally know how things work, but I like to have some idea of what they look like inside, because I’m a curious specimen, but I do not like surprises. I’ll never need to know how to load money into an ATM, and if I do, I would receive the necessary on-the-job training, but I might as well take a look while it’s there in front of me. When they installed all this gear, I took notes, some in my head, but some on a paper receipt from my wallet. When you’re on the run, you can’t trust anyone. I built a replica of their handiwork at a second location, and that’s where I am now, in hiding. The only reason I’ve not been living here the whole time is because I didn’t want to be seen going to and from it, but now that I can’t go back to work, it doesn’t really matter. I still had a little cash left over from my total withdrawal in Kansas City, and I received an advance while I was a janitor, so I’ve been stocking up on supplies in preparation for something like this. I will find a way to pay my employers back, but right now, I need to focus on my survival. I still don’t know if I’m going to stay where I am now, or if I’m going to run again. The ID makers have my fate in their hands, just as I had theirs in mine. I made my choice on what to do with them, and I’ll have to live with that. I just hope that the girl they kidnapped makes her way back to her family. Then it will all have been worth it. Signing off now, from my secret location inside a secret location.

Microstory 2107: Freedom at Risk

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As it turns out, the people who helped me with my new identity in this mystery city are a married couple, and they have a daughter. According to them, she’s very irresponsible and hard to deal with. That’s not what I experienced when I met her, and I didn’t get the feeling that she was just manipulating me. My first thought was that the parents haven’t been giving her much attention, because they’re so busy making IDs. As a result, she doesn’t do the chores, because where they live is more her house than theirs, and she doesn’t personally care about that stuff. They basically want to come home to everything being done after spending a string of days in the city away from her. They hired forced me to supervise her, which I did, even though I really didn’t want to. I made sure that she mowed the lawn, completed the laundry cycle, vacuumed the carpet, mopped the hard floors, and made dinner. The daughter didn’t even push back. She just rolled her eyes, and completed the tasks. I helped her out, because I felt like it was too much for one person, and it felt really weird just standing there, barking orders at her. A lot of it involved things that I do for my real job, and I get enough of that stuff there, so I wasn’t ecstatic about the extra work. Here’s the first issue, and it pales in comparison to the real problem, but I’ll get to that in a minute. The first thing is that they were so pleased with my work that they now want it to be a regular thing. So after my eight-hour shift as a janitor, I have to drive out to the outskirts to this new second job? I’m going to be exhausted every day, and annoyed about the whole thing. But I could deal with that. When I was waiting for Cricket and Claire to find me in Moderaverse, I spent twenty years without much of anything to do. So I’ve had it pretty good, working a little harder now isn’t that big of a deal in the grand scheme of things. No, the real problem is that this girl isn’t even their daughter.

The first clients that they had in this business were reportedly themselves. They’re cagey about how they got started, which is understandable, but my guess is that they used to work for the DMV, or social security, or something else along those lines. You don’t just jump into this kind of thing without having any frame of reference for what people might be looking for. I don’t think they lived around here for their original lives. After they came this way, their second client was a couple who were trying to escape the law for whatever reason. They needed IDs for themselves, and their very young daughter. At some point, the ID makers came to find out that she wasn’t their daughter either. They had kidnapped her, and instead of contacting the authorities, the ID makers just essentially kidnapped her for themselves. For years, the girl didn’t know where she originally came from, and she still doesn’t have any details. After years of school counseling, and mostly introspection, she figured a few things out, and made some memories resurface. All she knows now is that the parents who she has been living with aren’t her real parents, and nor were the people they took her from. She has not yet tried to get out of this situation, or find out where she came from, but it’s made her less interested in doing these chores, or anything for these people, really. Now I’m in a real pickle. I obviously have to save her, but doing so puts my own freedom at risk. I suppose I’ve already decided to intervene, no matter what ends up happening to me. The two of them have never expressed interest in reading my blog before, but they definitely know about it, so there’s a chance that they’ll read this after it automatically posts later tonight. I’ll have to figure out what to do by then, and put a plan into action. I’ll let you know how that goes, unless I die, like I said before. But just know, whatever the supposed cause of death, it was murder.

Microstory 2041: New Jersey

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My dad and teacher didn’t want me to put this information on the slide, and I bet she’s upset with me right now as I’m presenting it, but the way I see it, it’s my story, and I should be able to tell it. I was born in a country in Africa called Ethiopia. When I was still a baby, some men came into my village, and took me away. They were trying to sell me to some really bad people. We think that I would have grown up to be a slave for them. That’s right, slavery still happens. I was rescued, but not everyone is, and it’s going on all over the world. They found me and a bunch of other children on a big ship, and took me to New Jersey where I would be safe. But I still didn’t have a home. A group of women who worked for the state took care of us in an orphanage. Reporters talked about what happened to us on the news, so actually a lot of people wanted to adopt us, but they first had to see if they could send us back to our birth parents. It was really complicated. It usually took a really long time to find out where we belonged, because we didn’t all know our names, or who our parents were. I was there for three years before my papa and dad came in to take me to my forever home. I will always be grateful to them for that, because I love them, and I would never want to live anywhere else.

Microstory 1802: A Mother Doesn’t Know

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The end has finally come, and I welcome the relief. The doctors have been keeping a close eye on me for years now, but they can’t stop the inevitable. I have a DNR, and nobody lives forever. I don’t remember how I ended up in this institution, but it was definitely against my will. They keep me drugged up so I can’t think straight, let alone move fast enough to get out of this place. It’s been such sorrowful torture. I would protest against them, but I just don’t have the energy anymore, and haven’t for a very long time. They know this about me. They do that on purpose. They took away my free will, because if I had a voice, people might actually listen to what I have to say. But they can’t have that. No, far be it for me to speak my mind. I’m a crazy person, who no one cares about. I had someone who cared about me, but they took him away. Not the same people, technically, mind you, but close enough. Anybody who works for the institutions of this country, and promotes the oppression of the masses, might as well just be one evil man. I can’t wait to get the hell out of here, and I am well aware that the only way that happens is in a bodybag. The time has almost come; what I’ve been yearning for. This won’t be the first time that I died. I tried to kill myself a few years ago. My son got into an awful mess, and ended up being murdered by a cop. I was foolish to have made my attempt on the day the charity organization would come to deliver meals. He was the only person who ever gave a damn about me, and now he’s gone. What do I have to live for but him? Now this cough has taken me down my final path, and I’ve been letting it happen. They can’t keep me locked up forever, no sir. Now it’s just a waiting game.

I reflect on the decades behind me. They say that your life flashes before your eyes, but maybe that doesn’t always happen automatically. Maybe I have to force it, and expedite the process. I’ll take any advantage I can get. I did my best raising my child, but I could only do so much without his terrible father. Sure, he was the one paying for everything, so I didn’t have to work, but he should have been there. He should have helped teach our son how to be a man. I don’t know how to be a man; I’ve never done it before! Looking back, maybe there were some signs that he wasn’t well, and maybe I should have gotten him some help. But, really, how was I meant to know that his fixation on certain girls in his class was some kind of warning? It didn’t seem weird when these fixations transferred down to new girls. They kept staying the same age, while he grew older. He was very protective of others; I thought it was sweet. He didn’t ever kill any small animals, which everyone says is the behavior you’re supposed to look for. He has absolutely no trouble feeling empathy for people. I mean, when I say these signs were obvious in retrospect, it’s because hindsight is 20/20, not because I think I should have understood what the problem was back then. I couldn’t have known, I couldn’t. He did some bad things when he was older—those cages. He didn’t have to die for it, though, and they certainly shouldn’t have blamed me for it. Like I said, he didn’t ever show any violent tendencies. He truly wanted to help those women, and the situation sometimes just got out of hand. If their own parents had raised them better, perhaps they wouldn’t look so vulnerable. That’s what he was attracted to, but not in a sexual way. He wanted to help them, and I can’t help but be proud of him for that. I know he’s in heaven now, where he belongs, and I know that I’ll soon meet him there...at last.

Microstory 1592: Literally Can’t Get Out of Bed

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Prompt

I fell asleep in my own bed last night, and I’ve woken up in a stranger’s.

Botner

As I blink and slowly adjust my eyes to the ceiling of the attic room of my new home, I see the bed I’ve been sleeping in isn’t just the bed of my past, but the bed of my future. And I can see that in the corner of the room I’ve been sleeping on for the last two days. “What the hell do you think you’re doing, you dirty rat?”

I open my eyes and recognize the voice coming from my left. I look to the floor, then quickly look up. Shocked, I sit up straight, my jaw gaping. Standing at the edge of the bed is a man in a blood-stained white suit, his black shoes stomping the wood floors of the room, his hands stuffed in his pockets. His black hair hung loose, partially covering his dark eyes, his rough and scuffed shoes seemingly out of place on the soft floors. “I thought you were my husband,” I try to scream, but my mouth has gone dry. My head is dizzy. I can barely see the man standing over me. “Who are you?”

He doesn’t answer. Instead he stares back. I jump to my feet, realizing the...

Conclusion

...immense danger that I’m in. I’m not supposed to be here. He knows it, I know it, and now he knows I know it, and now he knows I’m going to have to do everything I can to get the hell out of here. But first, I must break free. My ankles are chained to the bed post, and since I’m no Houdini, my only hope is to talk my way out of it. I don’t know what this guy wants with me—I never wronged him, as far as I remember, and that’s going to make it much harder. He might not want an apology, but he sure as hell will be pissed off if I can’t acknowledge his pain. Think, I think to myself. Think about the last time you saw him, and try to remember what went down. It was my dog. She pooped on his lawn, and even though I cleaned it up right away, he wasn’t happy. This can’t be what caused him to abduct me, though, is it? That’s an insane overreaction, even if I hadn’t picked it up. No, it has to be something else. That was probably just the proverbial back-breaking straw. What happened before? What is he so upset about? Oh, you know what, maybe he knows. Maybe he’s finally figured out that I’m the one who called the cops on him for having a huge party with strangers in the middle of a pandemic. Yeah, that’s probably it.

Microstory 1538: Lost at Sea

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I’m lost at ________, and I don’t know how I got ________. The last thing I ________, I was trying to wake ________, only able to catch ________ of a ceiling passing by. ________ must have been wheeling me down the ________ on a gurney. Before that, I was just ________ my own business at the ________ shop across the street from my ________ building. I don’t know if I was ________, or rescued, but whatever these people’s reasons, something seems to have gone ________. I saw fire on the ________, and dark shapes in the darkness. It was hard to tell where the ship ended, and the sky began, if it was a ________ I was seeing at all. I’m sure it was, but what do I ________? I’m dehydrated and starving, but at least I’m not ________, presumably because I slept pretty much all the ________ here. I look ________, and scan the horizon, hoping to catch ________ of land, or some other survivor, if only so we don’t have to ________ out here alone. Even if it’s one of my captors, it would be ________; they might be ________ to give me some answers. There is nothing, and no one. I mean, all I see is ________; not even one piece of debris. It all sank or ____ed away by the time the ________ came up. The ocean is so still, and so ________, I feel like I can see the curvature of ________. I lie ________ and watch the clouds go by ________, like ceiling tiles in a strange ________. I am acutely aware of the passage of ________. My ________ and hunger grow worse with each passing ________. An hour, another hour, two more. Several more after that, and then half a ________. The sun does not disappear. It does not even ________. It’s stuck in the ________ as much as I’m trapped on this ________. I think at any ________ that I should ________ up and discover this is nothing ________ than a ________, but that never happens. Perhaps a ____ulation? The ceiling ________ belonged to a virtual ________ company. Yeah, that must be the ________, right? I call out to the simulation ________, begging them to let me out. I don’t want to ________ anymore, or they’ve made their ________, or they’ve learned something about how people react to their ________. I don’t know, I’m just ________. Desperate for anything that ends this ________. My skin is ________ and peeling, and may even be bubbling. This all feels pretty ________ to me, and the virtual reality angle seems a little unlikely, even though being ________ abducted for no clear reason, and then ________ surviving a sinking ________, also seems unlikely. After another two ________ come and go, with no end to the sun’s harsh death rays, I start to ________ slipping off this ________, and letting the water fill my ________. I recall ________with similar premises. The hero always survives—or at least one of them does, if there’s ________ than one—and they move on with their ________. This is not a ________, and I am not a ________. I don’t die, though. The sun keeps ________ me, and I keep ________ here, and the ________ barely ever moves. After a few weeks of this, I realize that the reason I can’t ________ is because I already have. And I can’t ________ through the water either, because my ________ just won’t go that way. This is just my own ________ hell, and it will never end.

Microstory 1475: Attack on the Warren

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When the crew of The Elizabeth Warren arrived in 2170, they were here to pick up a few of their friends. They had no intention of taking on any passengers. They also didn’t intend to stay here very long, but it took some time for them to find who they were looking for. After she lost her wife and daughter’s mother due to complications from giving birth, Saga Einarsson hid away from the world, and raised little Étude pretty much on her own. While the crew was conducting their search, some people’s patience were running thin. They missed the boat when the salmon battalion was here, but they would be damned if they were going to let the same thing happen again. The battalion came through a series of portals, which only worked for them. The Warren, on the other hand, was a different story. It could hold anyone. The only question was how many? Well, a lot more than it looked like it could. Saga was able to stay hidden for so long, because she had help from a woman named Annora Ubiña. Annora could create pocket dimensions. These had limited breadth, but they did allow a given space to be extended, to increase its capacity. These pockets required her own internal power to keep them up and running, but they would add some extra room, and the issue with that was that the people of Durus knew about her. Now they felt there was no reason they couldn’t all go with. Well, as stated, Annora’s pockets could only be so large. It was just kind of an arbitrary limitation, and though they were much smaller when she was younger, she wasn’t nearly powerful enough to fit everyone who wanted to go back to Earth, not in the timeframe that they needed.

Some weren’t happy with being told no, so they got together, and formed a faction of those who would stop at nothing to return home, or to Earth for the first time. They called themselves passengers. One good thing was that the unity the salmon battalion was sent to create seemed to have worked. The passengers were composed of Earthans, Durune, paramounts, and regular humans; a healthy mix of all of them. The issue was that some of them were violent, or at least willing to threaten people’s lives to get what they wanted. They knew that two of the crew members didn’t exist in the timestream all the time. They only lived for one day every year, which meant that the Warren could only depart once per year, and if they missed their window, they would just have to wait. This gave the group time to prepare and coordinate. They attacked the crew all at once, even though they were all spread out, and tried to take them hostage. This didn’t work, as the crew carried with them emergency teleporters, which would deliver them directly back to the ship. They weren’t the only teleporters, though. One in particular was on the group’s side, and used his power to abduct poor little Étude, right in front of her mother. So they had hostages on both sides; some in the ship, and one outside of it, and there was no simple way to save everyone. It came to a stalemate, which lasted for the rest of the day, and therefore through the closing of the window. The group didn’t want to back down, and Annora couldn’t simply decide to make space for them, even if she wanted. She didn’t want that, though, because of how nasty the passengers were being. The fact that there wasn’t enough room on the ship to accommodate everyone who wanted to go wasn’t the point. It wouldn’t change, regardless of how the group handled it. But had they asked nicely, at least they could have started this process in good faith. Now the crew was just pissed, as was Annora, and it was a very long time before they could reach an agreement. And that agreement did not include anyone who was directly involved in the attack. They couldn’t be rewarded, and most of them were ultimately arrested for their part. As terrible as the whole ordeal was, it was a good lesson for the Durune to learn. Violence would no longer be tolerated, in any form. New laws were passed to prevent something like this happening again.

Microstory 1373: Scope Creep

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Reporter: Are we live? Okay, thanks. [...] Mall Security Guard, you’re here because the clock recently started counting down on your fifteen minutes of fame because of a daring rescue you executed after encountering a victim you caught shoplifting under duress. Is this an accurate summary?

Mall Security Guard: That’s right. I would say I got about five minutes left on my fame clock.

Reporter: Why would you say that?

Mall Security Guard: Well, I would say a minute, but the investigation is ongoing, so it won’t be over until that’s over.

Reporter: The investigation into the criminals you helped apprehend, or the investigation into your involvement?

Mall Security Guard: The latter. Obviously, I am a security guard...or rather, I was. I don’t have the authority to arrest people, investigate crimes, or pursue suspects. The real police are currently investigating me, and if they choose to press charges, I’ll have to go to court, and I could be facing jail time.

Reporter: Jail time, really?

Mall Security Guard: My lawyer says that’s unlikely, because no one got hurt after I became involved; not even the suspects. I did technically break the law, though, and the judge may want to make an example out of me. That’s a long ways off, though. There are still a lot of steps before we get to sentencing, if it even comes to it.

Reporter: What have you been doing in the meantime? Are you still working at the mall?

Mall Security Guard: I am indeed working at the mall, but I’m not working for the mall. I’ve been put on unpaid suspension, but janitorial services at Hillside Mall is run by a contractor. I’m holding a position with them, and still eating lunch with my old crew. Theoretically, the mall could ban me from the premises until the investigation is over, but they haven’t done that. They’re not proud of what I did, but they’re not actively working against me either.

Reporter: Has your life become harder after the incident? You got a new job, but I imagine it pays less, and it’s not what you really want to do.

Mall Security Guard: Eh, it’s okay. It doesn’t pay much less, and I can’t complain. I know a lot of people are out of work right now, so I still count myself lucky. I recognize the awkward position the executive leadership is in.

Reporter: Have there been any other negative effects because of what happened?

Mall Security Guard: Not really. I mean, the kidnappers are none too happy with me, but they don’t hold much sway on society right now. The community has been really supportive, though, so that’s not great.

Reporter: How is that not a good thing?

Mall Security Guard: Well, vigilantism is illegal. It helps that I was in a public safety position, but it hurts my case that people have been so supportive. The local government doesn’t want a bunch of costumed superheroes running around, gathering fans, and putting themselves, and others, in danger. They don’t want to encourage this behavior, so they would rather the story just kind of go away.

Reporter: I see. So what’s next for you, assuming you don’t end up going to jail? Will you go back to being a security guard?

Mall Security Guard: Oh, no doubt. If Hillside doesn’t rehire me, I’ll find someone who will, even if that means I have to move. It’s in my blood to protect people. I just have to be careful about how exactly I go about doing that. I’ve learned my lesson in that regard.

Reporter: Well, thanks for talking to us. I appreciate your time.

Mall Security Guard: No, thank you.

Microstory 897: Wrong Guy

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Depending on how you look at it, I was either in the wrong place at the wrong time, or the right place at the right time. I’ve always been a curious fellow, and fairly observant, but not particularly brave. Mine was one of the last cities to still have payphones, and I happened to be waiting for one when a man was inside of it, having a very heated conversation. I wouldn’t have been there if my phone’s battery hadn’t died, and I didn’t need to alert my daughter that I would be late that night. The man was trying to keep his voice down, but when people are angry, they’re known for having trouble controlling themselves. I could pick out a few good sentences when his back was turned to me. Unless he was acting, or just joking around, he had just kidnapped someone, and was demanding payment for it. My assumption was that I was on some prank show, be it a new one, a revived old series, or as part of a crappy attempt at online video superstardom. It seemed too risky to just ignore the possibility, however, that it was all real, and simply go about my business. As soon as he got out of the phone booth, he started speedwalking down the street, so if I had stopped to call the police, he would have gotten away. Besides, I thought, if he really is ransoming someone, the cops probably already know about it. So, like the right fool I am, I started following him all sneaky-like. He never caught on to my pursuit, and he led me right to his secret lair, where he was keeping a young boy tied up in a chair. I didn’t see anyone else around, so when the kidnapper was in the bathroom, I raced to undo the kid’s ropes, and carried him out.

My instinct was to get as far from the area as fast as possible, even if that meant going away from a phone I could use to call for help. I was right to not stop, because the kidnapper came out soon thereafter, and started chasing us. I noticed a woman leave her car running as she went up to a building to deliver flowers, so I stole her car, and drove off. I asked the boy where he lived, and he gave me the name of a small town that was thirty miles away. Clever, taking him so far away that the cops aren’t even looking in the right place. Worried that the man would have a car of his own, I didn’t stop driving until we were safely out of the city. We stopped at a diner, and I let him out so we could borrow a phone, which was just another dumb thing I did. Had I walked in there alone, no one would have paid attention, but everyone by then had received the Amber Alert. They were just sitting there, staring at us, like a scene out of Vanilla Sky. I tried to reason with them, and claim that I was the rescuer, not the kidnapper, but no one believed me. I tried to just leave the kid there, and let those people deal with it, but he refused. He must have developed an attachment in our short time together. Anyway, we got back on the road to strategize how I could clear my name, knowing full well that my picture would soon be part of the Amber Alert too. The cops set up roadblocks, and chased after us, and honestly, I thought it would only end in my death. But then the bombs went off, and none of that mattered anymore. Amid the chaos, I finally got us back to the kid’s hometown, but his parents were nowhere to be found. We’ve been traveling the country together ever since, just trying to survive, like everybody else. So that’s our story. How did you guys meet?

Microstory 874: Translucent Government

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All human skin is translucent. Don’t believe me, just shine a flashlight under your finger, and you’ll be able to see it peeking through. But last century, doctors began to see children with an incredibly rare condition that makes their skin several times more translucent that it’s meant to be. While not entirely transparent, you can see the insides of their bodies; bones, muscle tissues, and the hint of their vital organs. You might think it would freak you out, but you get used to it after awhile. I don’t agree with everything our government does, but if I didn’t do my job, things would be so much worse. I’ve always believed this, but now I see how frighteningly true it is. Fearing for these children’s lives, they are taken from their families upon being discovered, and raised in a secret facility. I don’t even know where it is. When they recruited me twenty years ago, they gave me a sedative, and flew me out somewhere in the world. I stay with the kids underground. I’ve not seen the sun once this entire time, and the kids go their whole young lives before seeing it...or so I thought. When they turn eighteen, I was told they were sent to live in a special forest commune. They could theoretically rejoin society if they wanted to, but the rumor has always been that this never happens, because they’ve grown up isolated, and don’t know how to live any other way. Well, as it turns out, this has all been a lie. The day after their respective birthdays, the government has just been executing what I now realize were always just prisoners; under the thin protection of some moral obligation to wait until they reach the age of majority. What they don’t realize—or purposely ignore—is that if they raise these kids in captivity, then kill them when they become an age some countries arbitrarily decide make them adults, they aren’t actually adults, because they didn’t live real lives, so they never matured. I’ve done my best with them, but I’m angry with myself for not having recognized what was happening all along. But that ends today. After all this time of proving my loyalty, there’s no way they’ll suspect I’m now working against them. Tonight, I escape...with all of them.

Microstory 802: Fountain of Truth

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The first thing I remember is standing in a brightly lit hallway, full of doors. I didn’t wake up, or come to. I just slowly started realizing there were these things around me that I could see, as if someone else had been driving my body, and I was slowly taking back control. “It has begun,” came a voice from nowhere and everywhere. “What do I do?” I asked. The voice instructed me to check my pocket. I expected to find a key, because of all the doors, but there was only a note that said I had to pick a fountain, and that the wrong choice would get me killed. I opened the nearest door to me to find a giant two story fountain. Leaves were carved into the base, and stone fish were somehow suspended in the jets. I stepped back out, and opened the door right across from it. There was fountain in this room too. Jets perpetually shot up from the bottom, and inexplicably disappeared into the darkness above it, forming the shapes of musical instruments. I opened a third door to find another fountain, just as large, but it couldn’t be that big, because I’ve already opened the one next to it. They should be overlapping. I’m supposed to choose a fountain, but I feel no connection towards these ones, nor with any other I check. So I run. I run as far down the literally endless hallway until I can run no more. Might as well let my muscles tell me which door to open.

Inside the room to my left is a fountain that’s much smaller than the others have been, barely reaching my waist. Water is bubbling out from the center, pooling to the sides, and spilling into a drain along the rim. It’s the simplest one yet. I’m reminded of a movie I saw once where the right choice was not the most extravagant, but the least. If this isn’t the answer, there is no answer. I reach my hand into the fountain, and let the water tickle my skin. After a few seconds, though, the water turns to acid, and begins to burn. I immediately pull it out, but the fountain isn’t about to let me off that easy. Burbling turns to spurting, which turns to shooting and spraying. The basin cracks, letting out more acid. It tips over and breaks open. Now the acid is rushing, out from the floor. I run out of the room, but by the time I get a few meters away, the threat behind me has grown into a full blown hurricane flood. There’s no way I can get out of this, but my survival instinct is not hampered, and I just keep going. Thinking I have no other options, I decide to open another random door, and hope the magic acid also magically can’t enter other rooms. “I did it! I got it right!” I hear. There’s another girl in this room, having presumably been given the same choice. She’s bathed in the luminous water of her fountain. The acid hasn’t burst open the door, but it has begun to seep under the door. The other girl is being lifted into the air, so I take a chance, and grab onto her foot. We’re lifted to safety together. Now I just need to convince her to help me figure out who did this to us.

Microstory 801: Burial Ground

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Growing up, the four of us were inseparable. Lawrence, Jessie, Frank, and I would do everything together. Our bond was so tight that we ended up getting jobs together. Whenever one of us was tired of working somewhere, we would all quit and find something else. We even moved halfway across the country together. But then Jessie needed to go back home and take care of her sick mother, and the rest of us just couldn’t afford to go with her. It was okay, though, because we were able to keep in contact with her pretty easily in this modern world. Until we couldn’t. One day, she stopped calling, and we soon discovered that her family hadn’t seen her either. She was reported missing to the authorities, but they weren’t able to find anything. Since we’ve had so many different jobs, though, we had made tons of connections with others. We used this vast network to conduct our own investigation, and eventually learned that she was last seen at the docks where her father worked before he retired. There were rumors that a crew of fishermen were secretly pirates, so that seemed like our best lead. After months of coaxing, we infiltrated the crew, and discovered that the rumors were true, but that wasn’t the worst thing about them. One of the crewmembers was even sicker than the rest, and appeared to be responsible for the abduction of nearly a dozen other women. We found a poorly scaled map in his quarters, and set out to find the X. In the woods, between the bay and the highway, in a relatively remote area, we found what we were looking for. Parts of the ground had been turned up and replaced, forming perfect human-sized rectangles. Each grave was marked with some kind of personal item. We started digging the one marked by Jessie’s lucky stone, which was a painted rock she bought in a gift shop because it “spoke to her”. We worked slowly, not relishing the idea of seeing our best friend’s lifeless body. When we finally opened it, our eyes widened. I immediately grabbed her and pulled the mask off of her face. “Start digging up the others. They’re alive.”

Microstory 692: Discover Perjury

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While a small group of Fosteans were investigating the Amadesin threat from Earth, and the elites were discussing what we were going to do about it, the rest of the people in the galaxy were going about their day. In a sort of mundane, but still important, taikon prediction, we were charged with uncovering the truth about a court case. We had to find a witness, in apparently any Circuit of Truth, who had perjured themselves. These kind of incidents happen all the time in a galaxy of hundreds of billions of people. Though lying is not at all illegal, if discovered, it can delegitimize the ruling of a court case, so it’s important that they be found. For the last few days, lawyers, judges, and other impacted field representatives were searching for a case of perjury that might be worthy of being deemed the one foretold in the Book of Light. As the prior taikon were being rapidly realized, it was decided by the Highlightseers that they really just needed to accept whichever one came next. To this end, a group of arbitrators settled on a relatively recent case involving the theft, abduction, murder, and arson. A witness provided testimony claiming to have spotted one of the defendants purchasing the necessary fire accelerants and equipment at a supply shop located on the moon orbiting the planet where the offense took place. Though this defendant was proven to have participated in the other three offenses in question, the circuit had no choice but to free him from sentence of servitude, and return him to general society. Verifiers were unsure if this could be trusted as the true fulfillment of the ninety-second taikon, but before the were able to test it using the Ring of Law, they found their proof. As soon as bars of the released convict’s pending cell closed behind him, the stars in Fostea succumbed to the quantum darkness for a second time. But that was the least of our worries, for the darkness had secretly spread to other galaxies, moving completely undetected. Out of all stars in the Lactean galaxy, only Earth’s was spared this new quantum darkness, but that wouldn’t last. If we did not find a way to destroy this once and for all, every star in the Earthan sky would disappear with no explanation.

The Advancement of Mateo Matic: July 17, 2132

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At the moment, it seemed to be nearing the noon hour of 2132, and the three captives had yet to see any sign of their jailers. All they had to look at were their cell bars, and a cave wall. Mario was trying to sleep, Horace was meditating, and Mateo was literally twiddling his thumbs. He had already tried some meditating techniques that Future!Leona had taught him to help him recover from The Cleaner’s horrific memory implants. This time, they weren’t doing any good. He was starving, yes, but their biggest problem was that they didn’t have any water. They would soon die of dehydration. Something had to be done. This thought apparently psychically transferred to Horace, who suddenly broke his meditation, and started banging on the bars like a maniac. Mario shot up from the ground, ready to fight any oncomers. Mateo pulled back and unsuccessfully hid in the corner.

“What the hell are you doing?” Mario cried.

“Something new. What we’ve been doing has not helped us, so I’m just changing things up.” Then he started screaming and banging his hands on the bars again.

“That’s not gonna do any good!” Mario argued.

“Can’t hurt!”

“You don’t know that.”

He just went back to making as much noise as he could. And, as luck would have it, it actually did help them. They could hear a voice in the distance, but drawing closer. “This way, Lee! Keep up!”

“I’m not a runner!” the second one replied. It was Leona. “I’m a thinker!”

“Are you callin’ me dumb!”

“No, just fast!”

Two women appeared from around the corner and smiled. The one he didn’t recognize smiled. “Thank you for the alarm. This place is a freaking maze. Even I was getting tired.”

“Slip, holy crap!” Horace said to her. Yet another person he knew from his past.

Leona ran up and hugged Mateo through the bars as best she could. “I finally found you. Christ, what trouble are you in this time?”

“How long have you been on Earth?”

“Just ‘bout a year,” she answered.

“You’ve met some friends.”

“Yeah, that’s just this thing.”

Horace and, uhh...Slip were continuing their own conversation. “How did you get to this time period?” Horace asked.

“Ashlock shot me through. I can’t stay long.” She then looked at Mateo. “Don’t worry, Matty. We’ve already broken Leona’s tether, so she doesn’t have to revert back to my time period.”

“I don’t know that what means,” Mateo said, “but thank you.”

“Do you have a way to get us out of here?”

“The cells, or Easter Island?” Slip asked. “Doesn’t matter...yes, both.” She took a doorknob from her bag.

“The Escher Knob,” Horace said, relieved.

“I couldn’t find the Card.”

“That would have helped us find Paige, but at least we can break out.”

Slip placed the knob against the lock on the cell, which magically opened it up, with no apparent effort. She then did the same for Mario’s and Mateo’s cells. “Let’s get going,” she suggested.

“Have you seen Tauno and Keanu?” Horace asked as the five of them were jogging down the cave corridors.

“No, but we’ve see a couple of the others. Apparently they’ve set up shop here. The powers that be are not exactly happy about it.”

“Does anyone have any idea where we’re going?” Mario asked as the voice of reason.

“I usually just keep running ‘til I find what I’m looking for,” Slip replied.

“We have an idea,” Leona clarified. “Slipstream, don’t freak them out.” Oh, so that was her full name. Or at least it was her full nickname.

They heard voices down the corridors again, this time from behind. “They’ll have no hope to find the exit,” one of them said. “I can pick up their trail!”

“Crap, we have to get out of here now,” Mateo said, his concern about their pursuers causing him to fall behind.

“Mateo,” came a voice from his left. It was none other than Juan Ponce de León. He was pointing towards a turnoff to Mateo’s right. “That way.”

“Guys!” Mateo called up to them, not bothering to ask Juan where he came from, or questioning his credibility. “Follow me!”

They were reluctant to follow, but did so anyway. It was clearly the right choice when torchlight revealed the shadows of a horde of people, now trying to catch up to them by going the wrong direction.

“Walk softly,” Slipstream whispered, “stay quiet.”

They kept moving at a decent pace, but not as quickly, and definitely not as loudly. They came to a three-way intersection, and decided to take a left, but then Keanu and Tauno appeared from behind, as if having been waiting for them to pass by.

“You’ll never get out of here,” Keanu said with a grin, and a gun.

“I could have done better,” Tauno claimed, “but this is a pretty good maze.”

“A human weapon?” Horace said. “Really?”

Slipstream smiled back. “Do you remember what I used to do for a living?”

“Who are you again?” Keanu asked her rhetorically and insensitively.

With no further warning, she used her kung fu ninja skills to disarm Keanu before Mateo had a chance to blink. She then finished the job but planting him on the ground, and knocking him out cold. Tauno just stood there like a deer in the headlights, unable to decide how to escape, even though he had shown himself capable of opening doors the likes of which Saga and Vearden once used. Slipstream took him down too. “Felt good to get back to my roots,” she said when it was done.

“Disarming people?” Mateo asked.

“That’s exactly what she did,” Horace answered for her.

They then turned around, only to find themselves face to face with Keanu and Tauno once more. The other two versions of them were still lying on the ground. “Quantum replication,” Keanu said, without a gun. “It’s a beautiful thing.”

“How many of you are there?” Leona asked accusatorily.

“Enough,” Tauno replied. Three more Taunos, and two more Keanus revealed themselves from their various hidey-holes, like they had rehearsed their grand entrance.

But then all they could hear was flesh being torn apart...and all they could see was blood splattering all over the walls. An attacker was making their way through the Keanu-Tauno legion. The Warrior stood over their bodies, and began wiping the blood off his sword; a different one than he had used to steal other people’s time powers. “Not enough to contend with me,” he said, like a B-movie action hero.

No one knew what to say.

The Warrior looked only at Mateo. “I have given up killing, like you asked. But these are...” He struggled with his explanation.

“Let’s call it a cheat day,” Mateo said.

The Warrior just dipped his head in respect. When they could hear even more pursuers—probably another group of duplicates—he raised his sword and ordered them to leave. Mateo didn’t like killing, but he appreciated the assist. They needed to find Paige, and they needed to escape. They couldn’t be picky about who helped them do that, or how they did it.

They kept jogging, hoping to find their way back to the amphitheatre stage, which was their best shot of somehow leaving the island. They came upon another group of Keanus and Taunos, but there were other replicated people with them; those that Mateo didn’t recognize. Vearden appeared from a door to what looked like an office, with two women. “I’m not the Vearden you knew,” he said to Mateo and Leona. “I’m from this reality.”

The horde was frightened, having either never heard of Vearden and his partners, or having heard enough about them that they didn’t want to start a fight.

“Come quietly,” one of the women said. “We can either take you to an exile universe, or to a hell universe. Either way, you’re leaving these lovely people alone.”

They actually agreed, despite likely having some ability to fight back.

Immediately following that, Slipstream stopped short. “Ashlock’s calling me back.”

“Can’t you take a message?” Mateo asked.

“He has control, and if he’s doing this now, it means he needs to transport someone else. He can only do one at a time.”

An invisible force took hold of her at the stomach, and pulled her away from them. She didn’t just enter a portal, or fade away. She just grew smaller and smaller until disappearing completely.

“Come on,” Mario said. “Paige still needs us.”

“Yes,” Horace agreed.

They kept jogging. Every once in awhile, Juan would appear to direct them where to go. Darko randomly showed up once to fight a couple of enemy combatants, but he didn’t act like he knew any of his friends. He must have been from the past, before being trapped on Tribulation Island, and was just guessing which side to pick.

At last, they were at the end of their journey, back in the amphitheatre. Paige was waiting for them, but was trapped between two Keanus, and two Taunos. The rest of the auditorium was completely full of their duplicates. Most of them appeared to be Keanu alternates, though. It looked like the boss fight in the third Matrix movie, except that there could be no fight, because none of them was equipped to handle this many people. What they needed was a miracle.

As Horace tried to step forward, the Keanu holding onto Paige’s collar tightened his grip, and waved Horace back. “Uh-uh-uh. No closer. I want you to watch this, though. I want you see her end. Then I’m gonna duplicate from a quantum reality. And I’m gonna kill her too. Then I’m duplicate her again..and again..and again..and again..and  again.” He pointed to all his alternate versions. “I’m going to create and kill as many Paige’s as there are Me’s in this room right now. And only once I kill them all will I let you die. Slowly.”

“Your beef is with her,” Horace yelled to him, confusing his friends. “So if you wanna hurt her...hurt me.”

“Interesting proposition, the Keanu said. “But no.” He tightened his grip once more, and lifted a knife from its sheath.

A blur raced out of the exit corridor, down the steps, and onto the stage. Before them was the speedster Horace and Serkan already knew, plus Guard Number Two. As what was likely always, the speedster didn’t say a word. But Guard Number Two addressed the whole crowd while holding a very large futuristic gun. His voice carried throughout the entire amphitheatre, even though he wasn’t using a microphone, much in the same way a girl named Ellie had in the Colosseum replica during Mateo’s and The Cleanser’s Uluru battle. “My name is Kolby Morse, but may know me as the guy who keeps sending you and your kind to hell! You are all in violation of the Babylonian Treaty! Either the primary versions can step up and extinguish all their respective replications, or we can do this the hard way! From my end...the fun way! We at Beaver Haven do not possess a criminal facility capable of holding all of you at once, so you can either line up, or I can shoot you with my apportation gun where you sit! No one escapes this, though! No one hurts this woman! And no one hurts any of these fine people!” He gestured to Mateo, Leona, Mario, and Horace. And The Warrior, who had arrived sometime in the middle of Kolby’s speech.

Nobody moved.

Kolby lifted his special gun to his shoulder. “Fun way it is!” He then just started spraying what Mateo just now decided were called time bullets all over the crowd. They tried to run, but the speedster zipped up and down the aisles, forcing them back. Kolby certainly was having fun with this, laughing and smiling in between battle cries. He was barely a quarter of the way through his targets when the remaining bunch disappeared at once, leaving behind only the alternates for his friends.

Kolby looked around, trying to figure what had happened, as did everyone else. Their eyes landed on the Keanu who had been personally holding onto Paige. The Warrior’s sword was sticking through his chin, and out the top of his head. Horace’s hand was still on the handle. Apparently killing the real Keanu automatically deleted all the others from the timestream.

Better-late-than-never Arcadia teleported in and placed her hand on Horace’s shoulder. “It’s over,” she said to him soothingly. “You can let go now.” She then turned to Guard Number Two, which was something Mateo would have a hard time not calling him. “Thank you, Mister Kolby. I can take it from here.”

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