Microstory 2277: But Also of Everything Else

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The doctors are impressed. I’m recovering quite nicely. Don’t you go getting any ideas about stealing my eyeballs, or my fingernails. I’m not doing well because of any supernatural magic. I have a great medical team at a great facility, the support of my friends and fans, and the luck of great health prior to this. So yeah, I guess there was something supernatural about it. I was healed from the prion disease weeks ago, but also of everything else, including any aches, and phantom pains that people at my age experience all the time. So I went into that illegal, unethical, and immoral organ-stealing surgery in tip-top shape, which gave me an edge. Plus, they found me rather quickly, all things considered. Had it taken them only a few more hours to locate the site of the crime, I might be telling you a different story today. Or I might not be able to tell you any story at all, because I also could have died. But they found me, and treated me accordingly. I’m so grateful for that; I’m not sure if I can ever say that enough. This is all just to explain that I’m going to be okay, but that won’t work a second time. If anyone tries to do anything like that to me again, I will die. And for anyone who isn’t bothered by that, and is interested in trying anyway, you will be punished for it. We’re boosting our security team, as you can imagine. Law enforcement is rounding up all of the people who were involved in taking me, or my organs. No one has won. No one has gained anything. When my original organs are located, if they don’t need to be preserved as evidence, they will be destroyed as biowaste. I don’t know what that means if they’ve already been transplanted to someone else, but I don’t think they’ll be happy with the outcome. On that negative note, I’m very tired now, so I’m gonna go back to bed. Night!

Microstory 2276: Be Genuinely Worried

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Last Friday, I was able to dictate my own post for Kelly to type for me, and we talked all about my then-current condition. Things have not changed much on that front—I have a long journey ahead of me—but what I realized hours after that posted was that I forgot to express my gratitude. I’m not ready to share the specifics of what happened to me when I was abducted, but I was out of it most of the time. To preserve the internal organs that they were stealing, they had me on sedatives, instead of something stronger, like heroin. Then they put me on anaesthetics during the surgery. By the time I woke up, I was in the hospital with the replacement organs. I was very confused, and scared. I was never able to ask for help, but people helped me anyway, so please allow me to go through the list now. Thank you to the paramedics who found me. They were working with law enforcement during the literal search, and came across me first. Thank you to the cops and FBI who investigated this matter. Thank you to the medical team that transported me, and the surgical team who treated me after. Thank you to the organ donors for your selfless sacrifice for me. Thank you to the nurses and doctors who are treating me during my recovery. Thank you to Kelly and Dutch who have stayed by my side. And lastly, but not leastly, thank all of you for your immeasurable support in this incredibly difficult time. I appreciate your concern, I really do. It’s been a huge help to see everyone be genuinely worried about my wellbeing. It has gotten me through it.

Microstory 2257: And He Paid It

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The money is in. Our bank account is so full, money is spilling out of it. I mean that in the most literal sense while still not talking about physical cash. Knowing that the funds would be in there by the end of the day, I set an autopayment for a number of various charities, so the full amount was only available for a few minutes before a chunk of it was gone. I’m laughing now, reading all of the replies and comments from readers who were under the impression that I was getting scammed. Oh, so many of you thought that it was never gonna happen; that I was just setting myself up for failure. We kept mentioning all the things we had to do at the bank, and whatever. You were convinced that it was going to come back to bite us in the ass. I suppose I can see where you could have guessed that. In an alternate reality, that’s what would happen; us becoming the victims of a long con. The thing is, though, even though I’m not telling you who commissioned me to give up my specimens, he’s not just some random guy who claimed to have a bunch of money. He’s fully on the books, and can’t run from me. The FBI, and other agencies, were fully aware that this was all happening, and they could have easily gone after him if he hadn’t been on the up and up. I know that a lot of scams work by telling you that they’ll give you a whole lot of money if you just give them a tiny bit up front, and the idea is that they’ll accept the tiny bit, and just run away with it, because to them, it was better than zero. But this guy didn’t ask me for a cent, and like I said, he’s a public figure with a life to lead. Taking my index and bone marrow probably won’t do much for him, especially since as I’ve been trying to tell everyone, they’re not the key to immortality. Risking going to prison by stealing them? That would have been even more absurd. He set the price, and he paid it. He paid it today, and now that business is done. I’m keeping enough of it for the three of us to live comfortably in this house, and to pay my security detail and publicist. Everything else should be spent on things that help the community, and maybe the world.

Microstory 2256: Keep My Mouth Shut

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Last we spoke, I told you that pretty much the only way the authorities would swoop in to clear the crowd off our lawn would be if that crowd got to be too big. They were invasive and annoying, but they weren’t doing anything illegal, and they weren’t technically placing anyone in danger. I was venting to my readers, but some of you took it as a call to action. You flooded the neighborhood for the sole purpose of forcing the cops to shut the whole thing down. They didn’t just remove you from the premises, but everyone, because it otherwise would have been some form of discrimination. I didn’t know that you were going to do that. I didn’t tell you the “loophole” even thinking that that might be a possibility. And it’s not the first time that’s happened. I have to be really careful about what I say to people. They will do things for me without me explicitly asking for it, or having any clue how they’re interpreting my words. Sometimes I just say things about how I’m suffering, or lacking, and they’ll want to fix it. And I never see it coming. When I was fifteen, a few weeks from my birthday, my parents asked me to go on a road trip with them. My aunt was out of the country, but she needed a car when she got back, and she liked a particular make and model. This is something that I knew about her, so I wasn’t the least bit suspicious that something else was up. They asked me to help them make the drive up to, and back from, Minnesota, so I obliged without question. We spent one night in a hotel, and when we woke up, we drove out to a farm where the car was supposedly waiting for us. We saw dogs in big pens, screaming at us for attention. So a farmer was selling their car, and they had a bunch of dogs? Didn’t seem like that big of a deal. We got out, and I was watchings those hounds bark their heads off when the owner came out carrying a little puppy. My parents admired it, and asked me if I would like to hold her too. I loved dogs, so I jumped at the chance. I had that wee furbaby in my arms before they told me that she was mine. She was my early birthday gift. It didn’t occur to me that the trip had anything to do with me, nor that it was weird for there to be a car being sold at a farm that also had dogs.

The point is, Sophie was a total surprise to me. I stopped asking for a dog when I was young, but I would still talk about how much I loved them, and all animals. I never asked for a bunk bed, but I got one around fifth grade, because my parents knew that about me. Again, I have to be so careful about what I say, but being autistic, I don’t ever think that my random musings will have any real impact on the world. It’s caused other problems too. Since I don’t think that way, it makes me less of an attentive person. When someone else talks about how much they would like it if things were a certain way, I hear them, I listen, but I don’t think to help them. The way my brain works, if you want me to know something, then you should say it. You should say it clearly and unambiguously. I sort of have a different idea of rudeness. Well, it’s not different, it’s just not as broad. I don’t notice subtext, and I don’t accept innuendo. Be honest and straightforward. Or don’t. Just be the way that you are, and hope that I take the hint. I probably won’t, but you can hope just the same. And me? I’ll try to keep my mouth shut in case I say something that accidentally prompts a response. We’re just talkin’ here. It’s only a blog. I appreciate what you did for us with the lawn, but don’t worry too much about my needs. I’ll figure it out. And if I ever do need your help, I’ll just ask.

Microstory 2255: A Public Nuisance

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I’m still recovering, but I’m moving around the house just fine on my own. It hurts, but I’m used to pain, so it’s not the end of the world. This is Nick, by the way. It looks like full payment is going to be transferred into our joint bank account sooner rather than later. With that high of a sum, and the legal things that Kelly told you about before, there’s just some regulatory hurdles to jump through. It’s not like I’m depending on that money to get me through the week, so it’s fine. There are still a bunch of news people on our lawn. Some of them left, disappointed that they would never get an interview from any of us. Others have stuck around, either because they don’t believe us, and that we’ll reward their tenacity, or just to be annoying and disruptive. I’m told that there is nothing that we can do to get them to leave unless they place any of us in danger, or try to breach the walls of the house. Lawns are private property, but when it comes to public interest, camping out on them is some sort of gray area. Again, they can’t do whatever they want, but they can just sit or stand there, and they can keep coming back every day if they want. I suggested that we turn on the lawn sprinklers, but that’s apparently some form of assault and needless escalation. I guess there’s just nothing we can do, except wait them out. Fortunately, it’s nicer in here than out there. It’s only getting colder. There’s one silver lining to this. If the crowd gets to be too big, the police will step in, because then it officially becomes a public nuisance, and maybe even a safety hazard. If they were here to protest, or something, then that would be a lawful assembly, and protected under constitutional rights. But they’re not here together; they’re just here for the same reason—or rather, legally speaking, simply similar reasons. If things do escalate to that point, we may be entitled to some form of authoritative protection. It’s a security risk, not knowing if all those people have decent intentions. There could be a serial killer amongst them for all we know. Our security team is doing all they can, watching them at all times, and securing the perimeter. I’m just going to rest and relax, and hope that things don’t get worse. But just a reminder, the team is also taking note of everyone they see, matching identities, and placing everyone into a blacklist, so your only possible accomplishment could be to be intrusive. You’re not going to get the exclusive story, I can guarantee you that.

Microstory 2116: Law is Clear Enough

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I spent two nights in jail after they processed me. I’ve always had pretty good luck with law enforcement, probably because I easily pass for white, yet I’ve always disliked them, because of the things that happen to people who can’t pass for white. Of course, they shouldn’t have to pass for anything beyond being living creatures who deserve to be respected, and to feel safe around the people who have literally sworn an oath to serve and protect. As far as I know, there’s no oath to attack and kill unprovoked, but you wouldn’t know it reading about the coppers on my homeworld. Anyway, processing went fine, and the jail cell wasn’t that bad. I shared it with five other guys. The toilet wasn’t in a separate room, but there was a partial concrete barrier. We could still see each other, but we couldn’t see anything private unless we deliberately walked up closer, which fortunately, no one ever did. Sunday morning was a whirlwind of activity that I did not expect. I made a lot of friends on this planet, but none of them was in a position to help me with this situation. My family doesn’t live here, and I’ve not been around for long enough to form strong bonds. As it turned out, I didn’t really need them. The FBI surprisingly had my back. I helped them by luring that teenage girl’s kidnappers away from the trail while they rescued her, which was a really nice thing for me to do, but we weren’t exactly investigating terrorists. I’m not even sure if they’ve even managed to catch the criminals yet. What I did was not that big of a deal. All I had to do was drive to Alabama, and leave breadcrumbs for them to follow. The hardest part of that was having to spend time in Alabama. Boom.

Normally, I don’t think a federal agency will spend taxpayer money to bail an individual out of jail, but they were able to expedite paperwork to make me a CI. Obviously, the C in that initialism is supposed to stand for confidential, but past events have already been recorded in this regard, so who cares? Luckily for the taxpayers, my bail wasn’t all that high, because the judge knew that I wouldn’t be able to afford more than a few bucks. I’ll say, the wheels of justice seem to turn faster here than they do where I’m from. They do hearings on the weekend, did you know that? That’s so weird, but I’m grateful for it. I’m staying in a hotel right now, which the feds are allowing me to tell you, but I can’t say which one. It’s pretty nice, though. They’re treating me like an important witness, which I may be. They may ask me to testify against the ID makers whenever they catch them, and start turning the wheels of justice over them too. Don’t get too excited for me, though. They’ll probably cut me a deal for a lighter sentence due to my help in the bigger investigation, but I’m not getting off scot-free. I’ve still committed my own crimes, and the law is clear enough on that, so I’ll have to pay for my sins one way or another. The government can’t pay my legal fees, for obvious reasons, but I don’t have to worry about that either. They’re not the only friends that I unexpectedly made.

When I first left Kansas City, and hid out in Iowa, I quickly hooked up with the ID makers to generate my new identity. I still can’t tell you how I managed that, but perhaps one day. Sorry, but it’s not my secret to tell. Soon after that, I was able to find a job. It was a weird place where I worked, but I didn’t ask any questions. I just cleaned where I was told to clean, and kept my head down. They were dealing with very secretive information, but I never found out what exactly all of those documents were for. I still don’t know, but they noticed me, and they’ve decided to help out too, for reasons I couldn’t tell you. They’ve promised to cover all of my legal fees, including whatever it might cost if I decide to countersue the state, the federal government, or anyone else. I don’t think that I’m going to do that. I’m not sure what my case would be, and I’m not greedy. I knew what I was getting myself into. Well, I didn’t know that I would encounter a kidnap victim, but as far as my own dealings go, I made my own bed. Here’s what I’m worried about—and I’m fully aware that they have access to my blog—maybe they think that I saw something while I was a janitor in their offices, and don’t want me telling others about it. Honestly, I didn’t see nothin’, man. All of the regular staff members were always really good about keeping their stuff locked up, and I was really good about not letting my eyes wander. The truth is, I’m a curious person, but I’m not investigative. I could never have been a detective, because I generally don’t want to get into other people’s business. If I walk up to two people who are laughing together, I don’t ask them what’s funny. The way I see it, if they want to tell me, they can. So I don’t know what interest my former employer has in my legal issues, but I’ve decided to accept their help until they give me a reason to stop trusting them. I’ll fill you in on more tomorrow. Things are changing every day now, so I’m sure I’ll have a lot to catch you up on. This could all be a game, or a ruse, though, so my declaration stands; no matter what the autopsy says, it was murder.

Microstory 2102: You’re Only Hurting Yourself

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Oh my God, the coppers must think I’m preeeetty stupid if they legitimately believed that I was in Chicago. I literally told you in my last post that I wasn’t going to mention any specifics about my location, and immediately after, I claimed that I was going to be on the Chicago River? You didn’t think that I would catch that “mistake”. It was a total misdirect, meant to accomplish two objectives. First, I wanted to see if anyone who might have been looking for me was trying to use my blog as a resource. Second, I wanted to gauge the response. For my part, I think it was blown way out of proportion. They had the whole city lookin’ for me; for one little guy who hasn’t hurt anybody. You people need to get your priorities checked. A part of me wanted to continue to waste their time and money looking in the right place, but I’m not vengeful and petty like them. So this is the truth, I’m not anywhere near Chicago. I chose it, because I’m moderately familiar with it from my experiences in my home universe, and because I had already made a minor connection to someone there. He was one of the people who answered my ad that was looking for other aliens. I haven’t talked to that guy in a long time, though. Make a list of every place you think I would hide out, and then cross it all out. I would never hide where someone might think to look for me. That’s Lam 101. I never said anything about Philadelphia. Why don’t you check there? Or I know, how about the entirety of China? My advice, cut your losses, and move on to more important cases. As I said, I never hurt anybody, and I won’t. I have no reason to. I’m not dangerous, I’m not angry. I’m just trying to get home. Anyone who doesn’t understand that probably has easier access to their own home, so I’m asking for a little sympathy here. Stop looking for me! I’m not worth it! You’re only hurting yourself. I ran, and I understand that I caused a problem when I did that, but I’m telling you now that you will never find me, so if you continue the investigation, it will be all on you. I will accept no responsibility for whatever resources are expended on it, or whatever it ends up costing the taxpayers of this country. Just leave me alone, and everything will be okay. Yours truly, the ghost.

Microstory 2065: Not Gonna Hurt You

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Today I had a tour of the garden where I’ll be working starting next month. Or I should say, I hope I’ll be working there. She thought it was going to be okay that I don’t have any proof of citizenship, or a bank account, or a national ID number. Where I’m from, there’s no such thing as an NID. We have social security numbers that serve the same purpose, but that’s not really what the system was made for. I’m getting sidetracked again. The garden. It’s not the end of the world that I can’t prove I was born here, or that I was born at all, but there’s a process. She won’t be able to officially hire me until I get all that squared away. If you’ll remember, I was going to meet with a social worker earlier this month, but I never ended up doing that, because I secured this great place to live, and everything seemed to be okay without my new life. I’m getting over my second illness, but I’m still not there yet, so come Monday, I’ll finally be doing that. We’ll keep our distances from each other, and I’ll at least be wearing a mask. I spoke with him briefly on the phone, and he thinks that it will be okay. There is a proper way to enter this country, whether you want to come as a visitor, or stay as a citizen, but it’s not that difficult. It’s extremely difficult and painful in my version of the United States, but they see no reason to do it like that here. Where I’m from, people are terribly afraid that criminals will come in from foreign nations, but here’s the thing, there are criminals everywhere. You can commit a crime in the country you’re born in just as easily as a different one. No, that’s not true. It’s actually easier, because you don’t have to go somewhere first. How can we stop foreign criminals if we don’t just criminalize immigration itself? Uh, well what do we do about native criminals? It’s called law enforcement. Ever heard of it? It may begin with the border in some cases, but it’s not like it ends there. So stop freaking out, I’m not gonna hurt you. Can I be a citizen now? Everyone I’ve talked to about it says, yes, probably. Have a nice weekend!

Microstory 1998: Vastly Irresponsible Plan

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Leonard: Where is she? She’s not in a jail cell still, is she?

Street Proctor: No, no, no, no, no. She’s in the VIP quarters. She’s perfectly fine.

Leonard: The law station has a VIP room?

Street Proctor: Of course. They don’t on your world? [...] Oh, don’t look so surprised. You told me that you were in the wrong world when we first met, and now you’re some big shot secret agent. It wasn’t hard to figure out that you were actually telling the truth the whole time. I really wanna apologize for how I treated you back then. I was going through some stuff that had nothing to do with you, but it was no excuse for being unprofessional and unhelpful. And I’m not just saying that because you super outrank me now. I’ve been to some seminars, one workshop, and counseling every week.

Leonard: Well, I appreciate you saying that. It’s...very big of you.

Street Proctor: Yeah. Well anyway, your wife is right through here.

Leonard: *steps into the room* Keziah.

Keziah: Leonard. What the hell is happening? Where are we?

Leonard: What is the last thing you remember?

Keziah: I was going to Yuuna’s baby shower. I was driving around, thinking that I was very lost, until I realized that I was actually very, very lost. None of this is familiar. They call this place a law station, instead of a police station. The guy who helped me said he was a proctor, which is nothing I’ve ever heard of either. What is this room all about?

Leonard: Yuuna’s baby shower? That was months ago. That was...that was the day that I disappeared. You and I left our Earth on the same day, but I’ve been here since June.

Keziah: Time travel? We traveled through time? Wait, does this have something to do with your little friend? Where is he? He has to send us back home.

Leonard: It’s not really time travel. It’s that—let’s see, how did he put it—the timestreams for two separate universes have nothing to do with each other. And anyway, I’ve not seen him. I don’t think he had anything to do with it. It’s just something that happens sometimes. In fact, I believe that our link to him is the only reason either of us realizes that there’s something different about this world. There could be others here who  are from different versions of Earth, but don’t even know it.

Keziah: Either way, I wanna go home. Do you have a plan? It’s been months, right?

Leonard: Hold on... *starts to wave a little device all over the room*

Keziah: *turns the sink on* Is that a bug detector?

Leonard: Yes. We’re in the clear, but let’s whisper anyway. I have indeed been working on a plan, but I’ve had trouble enacting it. Number one, if we use the only tools we have at our disposal, we could be dooming our world to profound destruction, so if we try it, I’ll have to kill the alien who transported us right away, but that’s assuming he even took us to the right brane in the first place. And now that you’re here, I’m not sure we can both fit in the portal. Plus...I’ve sort of...built a new little life here.

Keziah: The ink on the divorce papers you texted me to say you signed, sealed, and sent out for delivery isn’t even dry yet. But you met someone, didn’t you?

Leonard: Yes, I did. You would like her.

Keziah: I don’t doubt it. But I still wanna go home. Tell me about this alien.

Microstory 1993: Purple Tie

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Myka: Is it okay that we’re all three here, and none of us is at the office?

Leonard: They’ll be fine. Deputy Director Robles knows what she’s doing.

Myka: Deputy Director Robles. Director Parsons.

Reese: *from the other room* What’s that?

Myka: We’re just spreading gossip about you! Keep putting on your pants! [...] It’s just crazy where we are now. Maybe it’s not as much for you, since you were in law enforcement already, but I never would have guessed that I would be working for a secret department in the government. How did this happen?

Leonard: I never would have guessed that I would be on an alien planet, dating an alien, and helping my alien boss friend try on outfits.

Myka: *giggles* I want to eat your brains.

Leonard: That’s zombies.

Myka: I’ve heard it both ways.

Reese: *comes into the room* Okay, what about this one?

Myka: *tilts her head* Not bad. As long as you have a purple tie to go with it.

Reese: Why does it have to be purple?

Myka: If you have to ask, you’re not ready for this look.

Reese: Okay, well, I only have one more option, so if you shoot it down too, I’m screwed, because we don’t have time to shop before the plane takes off this afternoon.

Myka: Go get it, boy! *slaps him on the butt as he leaves*

Leonard: I can’t believe he’s doing this. What is it even for?

Myka: All department heads report directly to NatCo. I have a feeling he’s going to be spending a lot more time at the Capital, and a lot less time with us.

Leonard: I hope Celandine is prepared for that.

Myka: I hope we are.

Reese: *comes back again* Okay, here it is.

Myka: Aww, you do have a purple tie.

Reese: *spins around* How does the whole ensemble work?

Leonard: Perfect, my man.

Reese: *takes a breath* I wish you two could come with me. Not even necessarily in the meeting, but just knowing you’re waiting out in the hallway, or even back at the hotel; I would feel a lot more comfortable. I’m not enthusiastic about being alone with him.

Myka: You’ll do great. You have a penis, so you’ve got that going for ya.

Leonard: How do you know that?

Reese: Wait, what does that have to do with anything?

Myka: He’s notoriously sexist. You’ve never heard the saying? If you’re a man, he’ll shake your hands. If you have boobs, he’ll rub your shoulders.

Reese: That doesn’t rhyme.

Myka: I don’t think it’s supposed to. It’s just true.

Leonard: Well, I’ll be sure to criticize him for that in person.

Myka: I think that would be a great idea. *straightens his tie* Anyway, we better get to the airport. I’ll drive so Leonard can go over your talking points with you in the car.

Microstory 1967: Recognizing the Signs

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Reese: You two set up the computers. Sasho, follow me. I need you for something. Grab that bag. No, not that one. Yes, that one. Sachs, you know which case to grab. *leaves*

Ophelia: What do you think they’re talking about up there?

Micro: Leonard knows. Don’t ya, Leonard?

Leonard: Not sure, but that was obviously a rifle case, so my guess is that they’re going to start teaching Sasho how to spot through a scope.

Ophelia: That makes sense.

Micro: You ever shot anyone in your universe, Leo? Can I call you Leo?

Leonard: Leo is fine, yeah. And yes, I have had to fire my weapon before.

Micro: One of your parolees?

Leonard: No, this was something else.

Ophelia: What did you mean, in your universe? Are you just referring to the world of law enforcement, or am I missing something?

Leonard: Uhh...

Micro: Oh, we’re not from this universe. Like, literally. I’m from Salmonverse, and I don’t think his has a name.

Ophelia: I was not aware of this.

Leonard: We didn’t tell anyone, Micro. We especially didn’t tell anyone about you, since the government already knows about me, and we can still protect you from them.

Micro: *shrugging* I don’t need to be protected. I can take care of myself. I don’t see what the big deal is. We came through Westfall, which is the least jarring way to travel. Now, if I were from Linseverse, then you would really have something to question, because then your hacker would be a talking dinosaur—

Ophelia: Is that real, or are you joking?

Leonard: She’s joking.

Micro: No, they’re real. Troodons evolved human-comparable intelligence after not being wiped out in an extinction level event, like what happened in our three respective versions of Earth. I’ve never been there, but it’s in the multiversal historical record.

Leonard: How much do you know about all this? Have you met the Superintendent?

Ophelia: Who’s the Superintendent?

Micro: *laughing* No. Ophelia, the Superintendent knows a lot about the bulkverse, because his spirit possesses psychic abilities that allow him to witness hyperdimensionally remote events, which he uses to write stories that no one reads. But he’s not the only one with such knowledge, Leonard. One day, you’ll meet others.

Leonard: You said that there was no hope that I would get back home.

Micro: I meant that there was no reason to fixate on the possibility. Don’t waste your time in pursuit of it. But once you fall into the secret underbelly of reality, it’s pretty much impossible to crawl out of it, and leave it behind. You’ll cross paths with someone new, and your conditions will change again. Ophelia will probably meet someone else too, if she hasn’t already, but she just won’t realize it. You’ll learn to recognize the signs.

Leonard: Hmm. Well, Ophelia, I hope you can keep a secret. This is sensitive stuff.

Ophelia: I promise to say nothing. As long as you teach me to recognize the signs too.

Microstory 1949: Those in the Know

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Reese: Oh, good, you’re here too. I was worried about you both, but you don’t have a phone, and she’s not picking up.

Myka: Sorry, I’m here. My phone died while we were in quarantine, and it’s still off and on the charger. Leo, we need to get you your own device.

Leonard: Yeah.

Reese: Is everyone okay? How did they treat you in there? [...] Somebody respond, I’m getting worried again.

Leonard: I’m fine, I was just trying to let the lady speak first.

Myka: I’m fine too. I missed you...both. I have something to tell you, though, and I don’t know how you’re gonna feel about it.

Leonard: Let me guess, they offered you a job.

Myka: Yeah!

Reese: Seriously? Both of you? That’s suspicious.

Myka: Why, you don’t think I would be cut out for it?

Reese: I didn’t say that. It’s just that the government doesn’t make a habit out of hiring the formerly incarcerated. Even the OSI has a thing about perfect prior records. What would you even be doing for them?

Myka: They didn’t say.

Reese: See? Suspicious. I don’t think you should even entertain the idea.

Leonard: I’m not so sure, and I think I know the reason. She knows about the aliens, and I am an alien. I think they would rather keep us close than far away where they can’t keep track of our movements and behaviors. I’m thinking about taking it. Like you said, I need a phone. And a place to live, and food. I need money for all that, just as I did on my world. How hard would it be to apply at, say, a carwash without a valid background?

Myka: You’re right, they’re trying to keep an eye on us, but that doesn’t doesn’t mean we should accept the positions. I assume you have something more substantial in the way of an offer than I do, but it sounds dangerous.

Reese: Well....

Myka: Well, what? Have you already changed your mind?

Reese: I want you both to be safe, and you knowing about aliens puts you in more danger than I’m in because I know about them too. Yes, you would be working for the people who are placing you in that danger, but maybe they’ll be less likely to go after you if you seem to share their interests. Government spies know government secrets all the time, and their government doesn’t kill them, because they’re on the same side.

Myka: So, you think I should take it?

Reese: I didn’t say that. I just don’t think we should dismiss it. We really should learn what plans they have for you. You have skills, as do you, Leonard, but neither of you has the kind of résumé they generally look for.

Leonard: How do you suppose we go about procuring such information?

Reese: We don’t. I already work there, to a certain extent. I’ll go back in and see what I can find out. You two stay here and don’t go out unless you’re buying a new phone, and don’t separate until you have one...or maybe not even then.

Microstory 1948: Myka’s Debrief

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SI Eliot: Well, I think that’s it for me. You’ve been most helpful. I appreciate your patience. I know this has been a rough last several days.

Myka: That’s it? I’m free to go?

SI Eliot: Yep. I can arrange a car to transport you back to your home, if you need.

Myka: No, I...

SI Eliot: You what?

Myka: How long will I last out there before you find something to charge me with?

SI Eliot: Miss Tennison, if we wanted to arrest you, we would just do it. We wouldn’t have to come up with some new charge.

Myka: Wouldn’t you? Every law I’ve broken for this operation must be kept as a state secret. They can’t be listed in the records, so there’s nothing you can do right now.

SI Eliot: Even if that were true, you’re assuming that we have any interest in arresting you in the first place, which we don’t.

Myka: Forgive me if I’m having trouble believing that you’ll truly let me go with the knowledge that I have regarding the aliens. Guys like you don’t like leaving loose ends, and right now, I’m feelin’ pretty loose.

SI Eliot: You mean you intend to tell others what you know?

Myka: No, that’s not what I mean, but I’m worried that that is what you’re thinking, and you’re just not telling me about it, because you want me to feel comfortable.

SI Eliot: Again, we wouldn’t need to set you free if we wanted to stop you. I can think of six laws and policies off the top of my head that would give us more than enough reason to stuff you down a dark hole for the rest of your life. Letting you go back home in the hopes that you jaywalk, or accidentally open someone else’s mail, is a lot more work than is anywhere near necessary. The government is a lazy entity. That’s why we have buzzwords like rendition and national security, so everything falls into some sort of legal category that allows us to do whatever we want. So trust me when I say, you’re safe.

Myka: Well...I’ll believe it when I see it, which I guess may not happen until I’m on my deathbed for natural causes. Until then, I suppose I will take my leave.

SI Eliot: However...

Myka: Here it comes.

SI Eliot: If you would be willing to stay on with us in a more official capacity, we would be willing to discuss terms.

Myka: Are you trying to offer me a job?

SI Eliot: It’s like you said, you know about the aliens, and I’m not just talking about those wingèd insects downstairs. Your relationship with the human from another universe could prove invaluable.

Myka: I’m not going to be spying on Leonard for you.

SI Eliot: I’m not asking you to. I’ve had multiple similar conversations with him in regards to a job here. He has law enforcement experience, which you don’t, so I couldn’t promise you would be out in the field, but I’m sure we could find a place for you here.

Myka: Hmm... I’m not sure. I’ll need to think about it.

SI Eliot: I would be worried if you didn’t.

Microstory 1947: Leonard’s Debrief

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SI Eliot: Shifting gears, I think we have a pretty good idea of what happened out in the desert. Your story matches other people’s accounts. I want to know more about you, and where you come from. I understand that you’re from Earth, but in another universe. What exactly does that mean? Is there another you running around here somewhere?

Leonard: I am no expert in this. Like I’ve told you, I’m just a parole officer. I only know about any of this because I had a parolee who wrote stories about it. I didn’t think any of it was real until it happened to me, so now I’m drawing on what I can remember him telling me. I didn’t exactly take notes, because again, I thought they were just stories. But no, there’s other me here. There’s a difference between a timeline, a reality, and a universe. Right? Yeah, that sounds right. Don’t ask me about the first two, but I get that the third one is completely different. It doesn’t have the same people. How two unrelated universes could both end up with a planet called Earth with humans living on it who are about the same as each other, I really couldn’t explain.

SI Eliot: Who was this parolee of yours? He was, what, just some writer?

Leonard: Well, yes. He wrote science fiction stories, and then one day he found himself in one of his own stories, and that’s what set him on the path to my universe.

SI Eliot: Where is he now?

Leonard: Apparently, now is a relative term. The last time I saw him, he was in my universe. They probably assigned him a new parole officer after I disappeared. Or...

SI Eliot: Or what?

Leonard: Or I’ll eventually go back to where I was, and no time will have passed from the perspective of everyone I left. *airquotes*

SI Eliot: So, you’re a time traveler.

Leonard: I may be a time traveler.

SI Eliot: *clears his throat*

Leonard: I told you that I’m not an expert. Look, I don’t think I would have noticed anything if my friends were here, and your laws weren’t so different. I mean, it’s not illegal to break out of jail? That’s so weird. For me, it’s a crime, and when you’re caught, you’re charged with it as such, and if found guilty, it could add to your sentence.

SI Eliot: Do you want us to do that to you?

Leonard: No, of course not. I’m just trying to illustrate the differences. This world probably seems completely normal to you, but if you went to mine, you would feel like I do now. Now imagine being a—quote-unquote—alien. Those four you have in custody right now, I bet their society is profoundly different than yours, or even mine. Just remember that. If you have to jar them with your bizarre procedures and practices, do that. If you have to try to meet them at their level, do that. But do not expect your understanding of human behavior to have anything to do with how they think. They have seen humans destroy worlds before, and even though they’ve reportedly found you not guilty of the same, I don’t see how they don’t use it against you anyway.

SI Eliot: What are you trying to say?

Leonard: Don’t trust them. They want to kill you, whether they admit it or not. Now are we done here? I’ve not slept in days, and I don’t feel like this is doing any good.

Microstory 1942: Injured Wanderer

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Shadow Team Leader: This is Shadow Team Leader, reporting in. Do you read me, Special Investigator?

Special Investigator: Shadow Team Leader, this is Special Investigator. Go ahead.

Shadow Team Leader: We think the recon team has found something. Most of them have disappeared into the ground, presumably into some kind of bunker, or underground facility.

Special Investigator: An underground facility? All the way out there?

Shadow Team Leader: We believe so, sir. Whatever it is, they climbed into it willingly. It was just a minute ago.

Special Investigator: Who did they leave topside?

Shadow Team Leader: Two of the freewomen they had with them.

Special Investigator: The primary?

Shadow Team Leader: No, one of the secondaries. How should we proceed, sir?

Special Investigator: Are the freewomen armed?

Shadow Team Leader: One of them is, sir.

Special Investigator: We can’t risk an incident. If there are hostiles down there, we can’t appear to be discoordinated, or internally disharmonious. *pause* One of you needs to run an injured wanderer maneuver. Are there any women on your team? I think the freewomen will respond better to one of their own.

Shadow Team Leader: Shadow Team Member 1 can do it. She’s done it before. How badly do you want her to be injured?

Special Investigator: Turn her ankle and cut her upper arm.

Shadow Team Leader: Understood. Shadow Team Leader out.

Shadow Team Member 1: The cut should be on the same side as the turned ankle. I should be leaning to one side to sell it my vulnerability

Shadow Team Leader: Agreed. My knife or yours?

Shadow Team Member 1: Neither. The cut will be too smooth. If I hurt myself in a car wreck, it needs to be jagged and uneven.

Shadow Team Member 2: I can handle that. I was an art major. Which side?

Shadow Team Leader: Not here. Let’s runabout to the other side. None of them is from the area. They don’t know how close the street is from that side of their current position, but they know we’re too far from the road that came from for someone as hurt as she’s gonna be to have wandered that far.

*a little later*

Shadow Team Member 1: Hello? I could see you from way out there! I thought it was a mirage! Wait, you’re not a mirage, are you?

Freewoman 3: Stop! State your business!

Shadow Team Member 1: Hold on, I can’t hear ya! Ugh, ow. I was trying to look at the map. I’m such an idiot. I ran off the road, and hit these rocky slaps that were just sticking out of the ground like someone put them there. I couldn’t find my phone in the wreckage. It’s probably there, but now I only have one arm. Can I borrow yours?

Freewoman 3: That’s close enough. I’m going to get help. Watch her, Freewoman 4.

Microstory 1940: Walking in Circles

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Reese: Are you sure this is going to work? We’ve been walking in literal circles forever, and so far, no one has shown up.

Leonard: Myka?

Myka: *holding the radio to her ear* One click back. My friends aren’t seeing anyone.

Leonard: Maybe we were wrong this whole time. Maybe no one has been following us.

Reese: Or they’re so confused about our odd behavior, they don’t know what to do.

Leonard: You’re right, this was a stupid plan. If we weren’t trying to follow these footprints, I would say we head for cover, but we’re just too exposed out here, and we’re wasting time. If we are being followed, they can probably wait us out.

Myka: No, it wasn’t a stupid plan, we’re just at too much of a disadvantage.

Leonard: Go ahead and make whatever clicks you need to make to tell them that we’re giving up. If your people are gonna help, we might as well work together. I don’t suppose they came with their own tent? Perhaps we can share.

Reese: How many are there? Three? This tent is designed for two. It’s technically big enough for three; or four if they’re comfortable with each other, but not a total of six.

Myka: Those three are my best survivors. Freewoman 2 can find water anywhere. Besides, this mission is only getting more dangerous. We need multiple on watch. But that’s tonight. We still have hours of daylight to go. I say we continue to follow these tracks before the weather erases them. If someone is following us, they have had plenty of chances to hurt us. It’s probably just government agents.

Reese: You’re right. This is the M.O. of a shadow team. It’s said that they can be invisible anywhere. They won’t reveal themselves for anything short of life-threatening, if even that. They may be under orders to report back any injuries and deaths, and not intervene for any reason.

Myka: So, we just keep walking, and leave it alone?

Reese: No. Give me the radio.

Myka: Here you go.

Reese: *adjusts the frequency, and makes his own clicks*

Leonard: What did that mean? Did you tell them something?

Reese: I told ‘em to reveal themselves. I seriously doubt they’ll do it, but now they know we know they’re there.

Leonard: What if they’re not there?

Reese: Then no one heard the message, and even if they did, I used a law enforcement code on a law enforcement frequency. So there’s nothing to be embarrassed about.

Myka: Since I got out of prison, I occasionally flip off my bathroom mirror and tell the U.S. Cybersecurity Agency that I know they’re watching me...just in case they are.

Freewoman 2: *walking up* Hey, what’s the word?

Myka: We’re done trying to root out the possible pursuers. We’re just gonna keep going.

Freewoman 3: What do you want us to do?

Myka: Join us. The more the merrier.

Reese: There’s something you should know about the mission we’re on first, though. Tell me, do any of you believe in aliens?

Microstory 1930: Rights of the Accused

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Junior Special Investigator: Leonard Miazga?

Leonard: Yes, that’s me. Do you work at the Office of Special Investigations?

Jr. Investigator: That’s not for you to know. All you need to know is that you are under arrest under special extenuating circumstances. Under the Alsten Act, according to Provision 83 of Special Investigations Code One, I hereby detain you for the defense of national security. You are not entitled to representation, and must comply with all demands, and answer all questions. All crimes committed prior to this moment, including those seemingly unrelated to the current accusations, as well as any crimes committed following this moment, shall be taken under consideration when considering judgment, punishment, or any other outcome of your circumstances. Do you understand everything I’ve informed you of today?

Leonard: Not really.

Jr. Investigator: Sir.

Leonard: What’s the Alsten Act?

Jr. Investigator: Sir, please.

Leonard: Please tell me that you recited those words verbatim, and that you didn’t try to regurgitate it using your own words.

Jr. Investigator: We are required to recite your status and rights in the eyes of federal law in order to detain you properly, using the exact same words as they are written and approved by the Office of the National Commander.

Leonard: So when I say that the words were repetitive, nonsensical, and just overall ridiculous, you won’t take personal offense?

Jr. Investigator: No, sir.

Leonard: Are you required to address me as sir?

Jr. Investigator: No.

Leonard: Then just call me Leonard, or Leo.

Jr. Investigator: Sir...Leo, I require you to state in no uncertain terms that you understand your rights as I have listed them for you.

Leonard: You mean the rights that have been stripped from me? Yeah, I guess so.

Jr. Investigator: [...]

Leonard: I mean, yes, I unequivocally understand them perfectly, fully, and perfectly.

Jr. Investigator: I’m going to have to place these handcuffs on you, but you may retrieve a coat, and drape it over your arms to remain inconspicuous.

Leonard: I don’t have a coat. It was summer on my world when I came here, and it’s summer now. I don’t exactly have a credit card to recreate my wardrobe. Besides, I’ve seen that before as a bystander, and let me tell ya, the coat trick ain’t foolin’ no one.

Jr. Investigator: Very well, sir—Leonard. I’ll leave the cuffs rather loose, as long as you promise not to make any attempt at escape.

Leonard: I promise to not try to escape. I’ll get this all sorted out at OSI.

Jr. Investigator: Uh...one more thing.

Leonard: Yes?

Jr. Investigator: Once we get into the car, you’re gonna have to wear a hood.

Microstory 1925: Apostle’s Virtue

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National Commander Apostle Virtue: Not that I don’t enjoy our in-person visits, Director, but what do you have to say that could not be said over secure video chat?

OSI Director: Is that a new uniform? It looks nice, Commander. There’s an update on the alien situation. Remember how I told you we made contact with the human traveler?

Apostle: I recall, the supposed parole officer?

OSI Director: We let him interview the creature, and I believe that we have an opportunity here. I came in person, because we have a short window to act, and I don’t need chatlag getting in the way of me getting my point across.

Apostle: You let a civilian—an escaped jail detainee—interrogate another detainee, who also happens to be an alien from another world, and the greatest, most dangerous, discovery that this country—this planet—has ever made?

OSI Director: Yes, and I’d do it again, because he actually got through to it. We were right, it does speak. It knows a lot, it’s just stubborn.

Apostle: Well, what did it say?

OSI Director: It knows things about the P.O.’s future, and the P.O. was not surprised or confused about that. I think they experience time differently than we do.

Apostle: What’s this opportunity then?

OSI Director: It asked to be set free. No, it asked him to break it out. There’s more it could tell, but it won’t say anything further while it’s locked up.

Apostle: Reasonable response. I would probably say that too if I were in its position. That doesn’t mean we can release it.

OSI Director: I think we should. We could stage a fake escape. We already implanted the tracker in its arm, so we’ll always know where it is. Plus, we can place a tracker or two on the human, and a listening device. We can stay on them, no problem. My worst investigative team could pull it off.

Apostle: You have bad investigative teams?

OSI Director: Sir—

Apostle: No, Director, you’re having trouble understanding the gravity of the situation here. We are this close to getting military aid from Australia against Russia. I can’t make one misstep here. I can elevate our status on the international stage, but only if I play my cards right. It’s not poker; it’s a strategy card game. Because it’s not just about holding the right cards, but about you playing the right cards at the right time to get ahead. This alien is going to get us out of our hundred year slump, but not if it’s discovered by some village idiot in some rando town while it’s on the run from the government. We have to make the announcement. We have to control the narrative.

OSI Director: We still can. The alien doesn’t know what our world is like. We can control its environment. All we have to do is make the human feel like he’s one of us.

Apostle: This is a big risk. If it looked human enough, I would be more comfortable. Of course, that would make it less dramatic when we reveal its existence to the world...

OSI Director: I have an idea about that.

Apostle: Go ahead, soldier.

OSI Director: Its wings make it stand out the most, right? So let’s get rid of ‘em.

Microstory 1924: Blinking Yellow

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Leonard: Hello. My name is Leonard. How’re you doin’? Need anything? They tell me you don’t drink water. You look a little desiccated. Sorry, that’s my big mouth. Let me just find the button on this remote. There. Now you can see that no one is watching us through the mirror. Then I’ll reach up here to shut this off too. Just so you know, in this universe, when the little slowly blinking light is yellow, that means the camera is on. When it’s solid red, power is running through it, but it’s neither streaming nor recording. That’s how they do things here. I’m not sure if you can relate. Do Ochivari have camera technology? Oh, I saw a little reaction there. You didn’t think I had heard of you, eh? You figured that as long as you stayed quiet—which is probably part of your training—they wouldn’t be able to get any information out of you. It’s a fair assessment. I’m assuming it’s not just that you don’t speak our language. Nah, your reaction tells me you understand me. Honestly, I think you lucked out that these people have profoundly strong anti-torture laws. Don’t you find that fascinating? I find it fascinating. Where I’m from, they passed anti-torture legislation too, but you can get away with it if you’re sneaky. If you get caught, you may go to prison, at worst. Here, you’re subjected to the exact same torture that you inflicted on others, compounded by the number of victims. They don’t think it’s worth it, so that’s why you’re fine. Funny how they extend it to aliens, though, right? Seems like that’s a whole other animal. Then again, they probably have anti-animal abuse laws too, and that’s really all you are. You see, the difference between a human and an animal is that a human can communicate with other intelligent beings at a higher level. We can ask for help, and we can provide help, and we can beg for mercy. You’ve not asked for anything. You’ve not said anything at all. They think you’re just an animal. What do you think of that? Any reaction whatsoever?

Ochivar: *says nothing*

Leonard: Hm. I can see that my predecessors have already attempted to torment you with words. That doesn’t count as torture, by the way. They have zero laws regulating mental and emotional abuse. Where I come from, you can get in serious trouble for that, but the way they figure it here, you should either be strong enough to handle anyone’s harsh words, or you should use such experiences to harden yourself against them, which is why they don’t even feel compelled to protect children from it. How does that make you feel? Do you care for your offspring? How do Ochivari procreate? Do you just spit into a giant cauldron together, and then mix it up until a litter of monsters solidify?

Ochivar: Stop! Stop! Dear Limerick, end my suffering.

Leonard: What’s a Limerick? Is that your god?

Ochivar: What is your second name?

Leonard: *pauses* Miazga.

Ochivar: Leonard Miazga of Universe Unlabeled. I’ve heard of you. Am I seeing your origins? This is the first time you traveled the bulk, isn’t it? Wow. What an honor.

Leonard: You could be making this up. You’re not saying anything that proves you know the first damn thing about who I am.

Ochivar: *leaning forward* Get me the hell out of here, and I’ll give you some proof.

Leonard: *leaning forward too* Now you’re speakin’ my language.

Microstory 1923: Lying Liars Lying

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OSI Director: Agent Parsons, Parole Officer Miazga. It’s nice to meet you both. Please, have a seat anywhere. Special Investigator, would you go get us some water?

Special Investigator: Right away.

Leonard: Thanks for having me. And you can just call me Leonard, or even Leo.

Agent Parsons: It’s an honor, sir.

OSI Director: I’ll start with you, Agent. Tell me about yourself. How did you get into fugitive recovery?

Agent Parsons: Well, sir, I wish I could tell you some interesting story about meeting an agent when I was nine, or that my father’s father’s father’s father worked in Fugitive Services. The truth is that I didn’t know what I wanted to specialize in when I signed up for the academy. So I did a full internship rotation, and ended up liking this the most. I’ve actually not been doing it for very long, though you might have assumed by my age. I spent quite a bit of time gaining experience from all facets of law enforcement.

OSI Director: That’s interesting. And you, Mr. Miazga? How did you become a P.O.?

Leonard: I was kind of a legacy. My parents both worked on the parole board for a nearby prison. That’s what they wanted me to do too, but honestly, I didn’t like the idea of sitting behind a table day in, day out. Maybe a third of people are given a second chance while the other two-thirds go back inside. I wanted one hundred percent of the people I worked with to be free.

OSI Director: That’s a fascinating perspective. I can respect that.

Special Investigator: *clears his throat* Um, pardon. Do you want lemon?

OSI Director: No, thank you.

Special Investigator: Lemon? Lemon?

Agent Parsons: I’m all right.

OSI Director: Tell me, Mr. Miazga, what makes you believe that you can get the creature that we’ve captured to finally speak?

Leonard: It’s alone. In order to advance to the level a species like that, or like ourselves, are, they have to value a sense of cooperation. How long have you had it? Six months? I’ve seen enough prisoners to know that everyone breaks. It takes longer for some than for others, but it will always happen, and in my line of business, that’s a good thing. I know that sounds heartless, but if you’ve done something bad enough to end up in a cell, the only way you’re gonna get out is if you admit the justice that put you in there. You may still be angry, and you may be unwilling to change, but the first step is admitting the logic in the outcome. Like I said, we all have our own breaking points, and if it hasn’t reached its point yet, we have to force it, and that may mean changing strategies. That’s all I am for you; a shift in strategy.

OSI Director: *nodding* I can accept this rationale. That’s all I needed to hear. If you’ll excuse me, I must return to my office to make a call.

Agent Parsons: You lied to her about your background. Did you forget that you already told me the truth about your career history?

Leonard: I was just just following your lead. Did you think that I wouldn’t notice your lie? It was my job to spot liars.