Microstory 1984: Pancakes Come First

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Myka: Are we sure about this?

Reese: No, but everyone else is safe at the third location, and this is the best chance we have to getting our jobs back. I want to work with Director Washington, but we have to make sure that we can trust her.

Myka: Anaïs doesn’t think she’s a mole.

Reese: Even if she isn’t, she may lock us all up just because we ran. This is the best test I can come up with. Well...Anaïs came up with it, but I approved it, so the responsibility falls upon my shoulders. Of course, she could pass with flying colors, and then screw us over later, so maybe none of this matters.

Leonard: Today cannot be understood before tomorrow becomes yesterday.

Myka: Did you come up with that?

Leonard: It’s from a poet from my world.

Myka: *sighing after a pause* Why didn’t we give the Director the third location, and keep everyone safe here. Isn’t Micro upset about this place possibly being burned.

Micro: *walking up* This is a great lair. She’ll believe it’s where we’ve been hiding, because we have. I don’t mind it being burned. I have more copies of this in other universes. Don’t you worry your pretty little self about me.

Reese: You don’t have to be here, though. You can hide with the others.

Micro: Like she’d believe you could do any of this without me. *starts to step away*

Reese: Hey, wait. How are your sensors? Are you detecting any strike team?

Micro: A-okay, boss. We’re clear. Balls to the wall. Once more, unto the breach. That’s poetry from my world. [...] She’s here, doe.

*after a few moments, the door opens, and Director Washington comes in alone*

Reese: *clearing his throat* Madam Director, you found it.

Director Washington: It wasn’t that hard. I didn’t start out in an office, you know.

Reese: Of course, sir. Thank you for coming. Juice? Tea? Pastries?

Washington: Is this Sunday brunch, or did you wanna discuss business?

Reese: I want us to come back together.

Washington: That’s what I want too, Subdirector Parsons. You’re the ones who left. *looking around* Where is everyone else anyway?

Reese: Valentine Duval is working security. Everyone else is presently...out.

Washington: *thinking about it* This was a test. You only gave me your location to see what I would do with this information? You thought I might attack?

Micro: *coming back into the main area* Yeah, you came alone. What’s with that? Don’t you have your own bodyguards?

Washington: Like I was just saying, I was not always an administrator. I can look after myself. Now. Subdirector Parsons—

Reese: Am I still a subdirector? Am I anything to the government but a fugitive?

Washington: Yes, Subdirector Parsons. I know that we are in the midst of corruption issues, and I know that you are not one of these corrupted people. I would be glad to discuss reintegration, but first...you must tell me where the others are.

Micro: No, first...pancakes.

Microstory 1983: The Choice of Risk

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Reese: How are things going at headquarters?

Anaïs: They’re fine.

Reese: Do you need us to pull you out? Just say the word. Don’t feel obligated.

Anaïs: I’m not just being a big brave girl, Agent. I really am fine. I still feel safe there.

Reese: Okay. So what’s the update?

Anaïs: Washington is finished with her interrogations. She spoke with everyone, and determined that there aren’t any other moles in the department.

Reese: Well...who interrogated Director Washington?

Anaïs: I know that that’s what we’ve been worried about, but I think she cleared her own name in the process. She could have found a mole, and thrown them under the bus, which would have thrown suspicion off of herself. It wouldn’t even have to be real.

Reese: So the fact that she isn’t outwardly doing anything to try to cover her tracks is telling you that she doesn’t have any tracks to cover? I’m sorry, that’s a weak argument. She may just feel comfortable enough in her position.

Anaïs: True, but I’m not the only one working on the problem, am I? Tell me, what has Micro uncovered during her external investigation.

Reese: *nods* Washington does seem clean. We’ve found no indication that she’s making more money than she earns at the office. She’s not making any unusual phone calls. Evidently she visited the original training facility, and picked Sergeant Sachs out after watching him spar, and reading his file. They didn’t know each other before.

Anaïs: Parsons, we don’t have much reason not to trust her. I think she was duped just as much as we were. She really wants to figure this out, and she’s working really hard to do that. I really think she’s all right. She did have a sour word to say about any of you.

Reese: Are you saying that we should try to come back in?

Anaïs: *stepping away to pace a little* It may not be yet time for that, but I do have another test we could try.

Reese: What would that be?

Anaïs: *spins back around* You’re not going to like it.

Reese: Is it dangerous?

Anaïs: No, I wouldn’t say that. In fact, you might be okay with it. If it goes poorly, at least we’ll know that I’m wrong, and she’s a traitor, but if it goes well...

Reese: Yeah...?

Anaïs: If it goes well, Washington might be the one who ends up not too happy.

Reese: All right. Spit it out.

Anaïs: I can go back to her, say that I’ve been looking for you—

Reese: No, that is dangerous.

Anaïs: I’m not even done explaining it.

Reese: It doesn’t matter. If you trust her, then either you and I should stop talking, and you’ll go back there fulltime, or we’ll pull you out and protect you, but you’re not going to put yourself at such risk. The nail that sticks out gets hammered down.

Anaïs: And that would be my choice. It’s a good plan, and I’m at less risk than you think. Why don’t you just wait until you hear the rest of it, okay?

Microstory 1982: Accusations

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Flynn: The Director has pulled up. What do you think she wants to talk to us about?

Celandine: She’s looking for the mole. She’ll be interrogating us for information.

Anaïs: Unless she’s a mole too, in which case the whole thing will be a charade. She may even be intending to frame one of us for it, so she stays in the shadows.

Flynn: You don’t really think she’s a traitor, do you?

Anaïs: Sachs is, and she chose him to join our tack team.

Celandine: That’s proof of nothing. Careful where you throw your accusations.

Anaïs: Why, because they’ll come flying back at me?

Celandine: Maybe.

Flynn: Easy, ladies. We’re all on the same side. Now, I don’t know if the Director is dirty, just like I don’t know if I can trust all these new agents around us. I felt so much more comfortable around the freepersons than I ever thought I would. But the one thing I do know is that I’ve been working with you two for months, and you’re definitely clean. Can we all at least just agree on that, and stick together?

Anaïs: I can.

Celandine: I can too. You’re right, Flynn. *sighs* She’s here. Get ready.

Director Washington: *walking up* Agent Robles, please gather the troops. I would like to address the group as a whole. I do not like repeating myself.

Celandine: Apologies, sir, I’m not in charge here.

*Washington looks over at Investigator Blass*

Blass: It’s true, sir. Herzog made a declaration after the others...after the exodus.

Washington: Investigator Blass, always with the politically safe verbiage. Very well. Go find him, and relay the order. In the meantime, Agent Robles, do you have tea?

*later, in the bullpen, with everyone in the department*

Washington: Last week, we unmasked a traitor in our ranks. Sergeant Sachs was a dedicated soldier, a patriot, and a good man. How he lost his way is something that I have assigned a team to figure out. This small group behind me is here to do the same with the rest of you. I’m going to be honest with you, we don’t know if he was working alone. He could have been a lone zealot, or there are others in your ranks. Or there are others, but they’ve been assigned to other departments. We truly do not know. If you are a mole, this may make you feel safe, comfortable. But I assure you that I will use every tool in my box to root out the cancer in the government, be it one of you, or even the National Commander himself. The aliens are here, and the last thing we need is to be fighting amongst ourselves when they make their next moves. We have to be ready, and this department was originally formed to do that. I’m saddened that it has disintegrated so epically quickly. In the next coming days, you will be questioned. Your backgrounds will be rechecked, and rechecked, and then re-rechecked. Your associates will be investigated, and your history will be traced. In the meantime, you will continue your training here, under the leadership of Agent Robles here. Who is Agent Herzog?

Herzog: Right here, sir. I took the initiative when the defectors...defected.

Washington: I heard. You’re fired, and you’ll be the first in the hot seat. No one does anything without my orders. Does everyone else at least understand that?

Microstory 1969: Out of the Loop

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SI Eliot: Director? I need to talk to you.

Director Washington: What is it, Hisham? I’m very busy.

SI Eliot: I just tried to call Agent Parsons, and Myka Tennison responded instead.

Director Washington: Okay. That’s normal. She works at DExA as well.

SI Eliot: Yes, but evidently she’s been left in charge, which I did not clear her for. She hasn’t gone through the proper training.

Director Washington: The other agents haven’t even started yet. She’s perfectly capable of holding down the fort during these early days.

SI Eliot: Ah, but why would she need to do that? If Parsons were just on some small errand, I wouldn’t care, but that’s not where he is, is he?

Director Washington: You make it sound, Eliot, that you already know where he is.

SI Eliot: What business do we have in Mississippi?

Director Washington: *finally turning away from her computer* I don’t know how you found out that he was there, but it is no concern of yours.

SI Eliot: It’s not, huh? When we were first conceiving the Department for Exogenic Affairs, it was understood that the staff would report to Parsons, Miazga, and Tennison, and that they would report to me. Then I would report to you, and you to NatCo.

Director Washington: That’s right, Special Investigator. You report to me. And so does everyone else. I don’t have to ask you for permission to do anything.

SI Eliot: I’m not asking to give you my permission, but I can’t do my job if I’m constantly kept out of the loop.

Director Washington: This is one time. How is that constant?

SI Eliot: It’s setting a tone, sir. Like you said, nothing should really be happening in those offices right now, so I hardly understand why anyone would have to leave it for a field operation. If I’m not authorized to know about it, then I deserve to know why.

Director Washington: *standing up* No, you don’t. You are entitled to nothing. Agent Parsons is following my orders, and if there is any reason to read you into the situation, I’ll make the decision, and act accordingly. And we didn’t conceive of anything. DExA is a pet project for the National Commander, and something that he’s been thinking about for longer than he’s been in command. It’s just that we’ve finally given him an excuse to budget for it. If I were you, I would stop asking questions. You have plenty of work to do, so I suggest you go back to your floor, and do it.

SI Eliot: *frowning and thinking* There’s a mole, isn’t there? Or at least there may be.

Director Washington: Goodbye, Mister Eliot.

SI Eliot: You only call me mister when I’m getting too close to the edge of my privilege. Okay. Well, that makes sense. When you’re dealing with this many people, internal investigations are bound to happen. I want you to know that you can count on me, sir. I have nothing to hide, and will be fully cooperative.

Director Washington: If you really mean that, you’ll go back downstairs and drop it.

SI Eliot: Of course. Let me know if you need anything. Remember the skills that put me in this job in the first place. I’m good at getting information out of people.

Director Washington: Thank you, SI Eliot, goodbye.

The Advancement of Mateo Matic: July 25, 2398

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Mateo didn’t really have a plan, he was more just winging it, processing his actions through instinct, and powering them by his emotions. When he saw Leona Reaver lying there, helpless on the table, he felt guilty. It was an alternate version of himself who was responsible for her inevitable death—the one, in fact, in a medical coma on the other side of the room—which as Nerakali would remind him, was someone completely different, but he still felt the blame. This was his chance to protect her in the way his counterpart couldn’t. She’s young, and untraveled, and by all accounts, innocent. His wife, Leona, meanwhile, has lots of experience getting out of scary situations. He knew that she could handle it, and would jump at the chance.

Before any guard could return to the evil prisoner experimentation lab, the Matics teleported in, and took their respective places on the tables. Leona and Ramses don’t know whether immortality water injections wear off over time, even without use, so they needed to be as quick as possible. The Energy water they used should be pulling double-duty, insulating them from any mind-numbing drugs, and keeping them powered up. To pull off this latest prison break, they probably won’t be able to teleport everyone to safety, but the trick might still come in handy. The others are relying on them. Time travelers or no—part of their group, or no—these people need help. They are the only ones in a position to do it, and if they didn’t swap places with their alternate selves, then the prison would have heightened security after the first escapes. Now the prison isn’t even aware there were any escape at all.

It’s been two days, and nothing has happened. The non-plan won’t work if they don’t encounter at least one person who is part of all this. All this time, they have only ever seen the other test subjects. Leona is starting to think that maybe they’re not even subjects at all, but special prisoners who are simply not allowed to get up and move around. It’s plausible that the fact that Leona Reaver and Alt!Mateo are time travelers is a coincidence, and this section has nothing to do with that. No, that can’t be true. It’s too unlikely of a coincidence. Leona is about to tap a status report request from Mateo when the doors finally open. She shuts her eyes to avoid getting caught.

“I believe this is one of the two you are interested in?” asks a voice in a sort of Baltic-Canadian accent. He sounds fairly close to Leona’s table.

A familiar voice replies, “yes, that would be her. Where is the other one?”

“Over here,” he answers, stepping farther from Leona.

Winona follows, but speaks loud enough for Leona to hear. “And that’s the other one. How long did you say they’ve been here?”

“The man came to us almost one year ago, but the woman hasn’t been here but a month.”

“And you’re certain of this? There is no way they could have escaped?”

“Escaped? But how? And why would they return?”

“Far be it for me to answer that, just assure me that they could not have.”

“I keep a man posted at the door at all times, and personally check in on my patients at least once a day.”

“Except for yesterday, when you were in Washington to meet with us.”

“Except yesterday, of course. But I promise you, that door has not opened.”

Winona mutters something under her breath that Leona can’t hear. Then she continues with, “and the others? Who are they?”

“Oh, you do not want them. There is nothing special about them. No unexplainable photographs. They are down here for other reasons.”

“Give me the reasons.”

“Well, it’s different for each of them. You don’t have the time. You came here for these two, just take them...and there is a matter of my payment?”

“I have been unable to locate any security cameras in the basement.”

“I’m sorry, no cameras down here, as we like to keep this project private, but as I said, they never could have escaped, and even if they could, they would not have been able to return. It’s quite simply impossible.”

“What do you think, Agent Reaver? Would you have been able to escape this place unnoticed?”

Leona sits up on her table. “I’m sure I would have figured out a way.”

The evil doctor, or whatever it is he is, is mortified. “What is the meaning of this?”

“You have been holding two of my best SD6 agents against their will. We have spent untold amounts of taxpayer money in the search for them. Agent Reaver here caught a lead in the whereabouts of Agent Dufresne. She followed it right here, which is obviously when you abducted her as well.”

“I...I had no idea,” the doctor apologizes.

“I believe you, but that doesn’t mean my superiors will be lenient with you.”

“No, please. Take them, take them. No charge.”

“And the others.” Mateo sits up on his table as well.

Winona looks to Leona for guidance, then sighs. “Yes, the others.”

“Are they all agents?” the doctor questions.

“They’re persons of interest,” Leona explains, hopping down to the floor.

“Yes, of course.” He bows humbly. “I’ll begin revival procedures.”

He jogs over to one of the other patients, and starts fiddling with the equipment. Leona goes to watch him in case he tries to do something funny, like release a cyanide solution. Winona turns to Mateo. “This is the last favor I do for you without any answers. I don’t care if my father and I have built enough trust, or not. You’re going to tell me what I want to know regardless.”

Mateo tilts his head. “I don’t think I have to.”

“Mister Matic, I have helped you on a number of occasions, and now I’m breaking you out of prison, which will take money to stay quiet. You—!”

“I don’t know why you’re so hellbent on getting me and my friends to admit what we are, but I don’t care. There’s a song I like where we’re from. It has a lyric that goes, no one can tell you what you already know. You keep showing up at the right place at the right time. We’ve scanned for trackers and listening devices. There is no way you could know the things that you know without amazing intel. So why don’t we cut the shit, and you tell me who it is?”

“Who who is?” Winona asks, still playing dumb.

“The mole. Who has been feeding you information about us?”

Winona frowns, ‘cause she knows she’s been found out. “Agent Walton.”

“I knew it! I knew we couldn’t trust Heath.”

“No.” Winona shakes her head. “Agent Marie Walton.”

The Advancement of Mateo Matic: June 9, 2398

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As planned, the six of them spend the entire day together, though Leona and Angela each have to take a few minutes every once in a while to confer with their employers. The latter is doing well in her new position. She expected at least one person from the office to sense that something was up, but everybody treats her like Marie, which is to say that some of them are nice and respectful, while others are misogynistic and hateful jerks. Leona is doing okay. She’s delivering her work on time, and the people at the top are pleased with it. They’re not asking questions, which is in everyone’s best interests. She’s trying not to be too preoccupied with her secret suspicions of Heath. She has a plan to drop tidbits of information to him to see whether outsiders catch wind of it. Then she’ll know that he can’t be trusted. That’s for later, though. For now, she just wants to think about the travelers. This won’t be the longest she’s ever parted from Mateo, but that doesn’t mean it’ll be easy.

At the end of the day, they retire to their respective rooms, the other four knowing full well that the Matics are about to spend one last night together. “What’s up?” he asks.

“What do you mean?”

“Tell me what’s going on with you. What are you feeling?”

She looks at him, but doesn’t say anything. “Give me your phone.” She takes it from him, and places it in the EMB bag, along with her own. Then she pulls out a bug scanner, and begins to wave it around the room.

Mateo sits on the bed, and waits patiently for her to finish. Once she does, he steps into the bathroom, and begins to fill the tub. He turns the water on high enough to make a lot of noise, but low enough to make it last. They sit on the edge of the tub to talk, and he drops into a whisper. “You can’t speak freely around the others?”

“Not around Heath,” she answers in an even lower whisper, “and by extension, not Marie either.”

“Yeah, I’m sensing a pattern. All the people we’ve met who have been given some information about us either aren’t too surprised by what they learn, or they have a connection to Heath. He’s even the one who first met Alyssa McIver. I mean, you and I both know that she’ll be a friend of ours in the future, but it’s still odd.”

“Yeah,” Leona agrees. “Plus, how did that forger know what I was planning? She was all ready with my new secret agent paraphernalia; it was just too perfect. I don’t know. He’s been so good to Marie, but maybe he’s been playing the long game.”

“I assume you have a plan?” Mateo figures.

“I have...the notion of the plan.”

“A baby plan. That’s what my father, Randall used to call it when we had something big to do, but didn’t really know how we were gonna do it. Sometimes we would plan something to the last minute, and sometimes we just sort of winged it. That worked out for us about half the time, I’d say.”

She smiles. “You don’t talk about your parents anymore.”

“You don’t either.”

She nods. “I guess it’s complicated. I have five parents, you share two of them with me, and then you have two more. Can anyone else relate to our bonkers family tree?”

“Yeah, but not in the same way, sis.”

“Oh, gross!” She’s laughing, though.

Mateo looks behind them at the rising water, which is about to start spilling into the drain. “I know we started this for the white noise, but we might as well take advantage. Wadya say?”

“We can’t do that, though,” she says in a cutesy voice. “You’re my adopted brother.”

He double palms his forehead, and tries to stifle the laughter. “Jesus! Now I see how weird it is, being on the other side of the joke.”

She pulls him into the water with her, clothes and all, like a romcom couple in the second act. “You don’t wanna roleplay?”

Microstory 1805: Field Work

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Like any young girl with parents who taught her to be independent and powerful, I dreamed of joining law enforcement. No, I know, that’s not a universal dream, but it sure felt like it back then. I couldn’t see myself doing anything else. As I grew up, my passion for the work only grew stronger. I wanted to be out there in the field, making the tough calls, and actually seeing the people I was helping. While I was still in college, my personality began to change. I still wanted to help others, but I no longer seemed interested in field work. Fortunately, I knew that there were plenty of jobs that didn’t require me to do anything like that. I won’t get into specifics about the path I took, but I ended up becoming a Threat Investigator for the government. It was my job to process calls from civilians who were reporting crimes and of course, threats. I occasionally had to go out and speak to people in person, but that only ever happened when the potential threat was nearby. Most of the time, I asked questions, and determined next steps, which generally involved contacting local authorities, or my branch’s local offices. It could be rewarding, but it was also stressful. It would be terrible if I downplayed a threat that turned out to be a really big deal, and it was almost as bad if I sounded the alarm about a threat that ended up being nothing; maybe even a hoax. Citizens from all over the country counted on me to accurately evaluate each situation, and decide the best course of action from the information I was given. I made mistakes, and I lived with regrets, but nothing was bad enough to warrant a disciplinary response...until it was. I made the wrong call, and people got hurt. No one died, but they very well could have. I should have taken it more seriously, even though the caller sounded unconvinced himself, and a background check made it look like he didn’t have much credibility. I wasn’t fired, but I couldn’t let anything like it happen again. Then I received my last call.

It was from a young man who lived in my city, or rather on the outskirts of it at the time. He was a member of a militia who was supposedly planning an attack on the capitol. The more I spoke with him, the more I realized that this guy actually joined the militia with the intention of taking them down from the inside. Apparently, his family was more into the anti-government stuff, and he had been forced to pretend to be like them so he could blend in, and stop his life from being so hard. Now he was in way over his head, and he needed my help to get him out of it. I went out into the field, and investigated the threat myself. Suddenly, I found myself in over my head. It wasn’t against protocol for me to go out there for a visit, but things snowballed so quickly, and I was captured and detained by the aggressors. Well, this proved that the threat was real, but there was nothing that I could do about it, at least not on my own. Fortunately, the self-appointed mole in the organization wasn’t found out himself, so I was able to sneak him a message, which he bravely took back to my superiors. They sent a strike team to raid the place, and I would like to tell you that they successfully prevented the attack, but I honestly don’t know one way or the other. It turned into a bloody mess just as the year was coming to a close. The bad guys realized immediately which among them ratted them out, and we were both executed in an attempt to show the agents that they meant business. Again, I can’t tell you what happened after that, but I can only hope that some good came out of our sacrifice, and they weren’t able to commit any further acts of violence.