Microstory 2685: We Have More Time Than We Thought

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Resi flies through the tunnel in his mind, searching for the vision that he’s meant to see. He spends more time in here than usual. So much passes him by, but it’s too quick for him to have any time to tell what other events he’s missing. He just keeps going and going and going until he sees it. Central Mountain. Framed in a circle like a painting on the wall. It’s terrifying. Smoke is billowing up into the air. Lava is rolling down the sides. People are dying. He can’t see that much detail yet, but he’s getting the feeling. It’s at the end of the line. This is the last thing that will ever happen to anyone on Yana. The painting grows larger as he draws near, and then he passes through the portal. Now he’s flying through the air. Unlike his other vision of this tragic fate, he’s not composed of the elements. He’s just a regular guy. A regular guy who can fly.

The still image begins to move in slow-motion, making it even more horrifying than it already was. Now he really can see the people dying on the ground as the ash overwhelms them. Bungulan aircraft are frantically flying in, trying to save as many as they can, but they won’t get anywhere near everyone. Catastrophe has struck, and the question is, is this what happens if Resi doesn’t report the truth to the island, or is it inevitable? Will people simply not believe him, or will he not even get the message out in time? He remembers Kartica in the caldera with him. She has that satellite phone. He has to make that call, or tell her so she can make it. That is, if he can trust her.

Resi doesn’t have enough information, but he can feel himself waking up. His body is stirring where it lies on the ground. He’s melting into the rock. He really will die, so he has to get this done before he takes that last breath. What he really needs is the date. He needs specific information when he makes that call. There’s a boat on the coast, taking evacuees in. Surely there’s a date there somewhere. He dives down towards the surface, and lands on the deck. No one can see him, because he’s not really here. They’re frantically scattered about, some using devices, but no one keeps still long enough for him to see a date. Don’t they know that he needs this? Don’t they know he can stop it?

He has to get to the bridge. It will have computers there. He dashes up and passes right through the wall like a ghost. As the vision is beginning to collapse, he gets only one decent look in the upper right corner of the nearest screen, but it doesn’t make much sense. The day and month are both fine. It’s the year that doesn’t make the least bit of sense. The number is weird and wrong; it can’t be right. He has to look around for something else. Maybe there was an EMP, and it screwed up all of the electronics?

He wakes with a start, not having had the chance to find any more clues to understand what it means. Still, it’s all he has to go on. He feels like he’s moments from death. “Pho—phone,” he ekes out, reaching his hand up aimlessly. He turns his head to find Kartica lying on her stomach next to him, probably as close to death as he is.

She fights to open her eyes. She reaches behind her back and pulls the phone off of the clip. She lifts it into the air, and starts swinging it around, delirious and confused, maybe seeing double vision. Their hands dance around each other for several seconds before they finally make contact.

Resi selects Caprice’s contact card, and tells the system to call her in whatever way will work. If point-to-point communication is best, do that. She answers, demanding to know where he and Kartica are, but there’s no time. “August 7, 0045.” She’s flummoxed. “That’s the date of the eruption. August 7, 0045.” He dies.

Microstory 2684: Whoops

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Resi is walking across the jagged rock at the bottom of the caldera now, dodging these scary vents in the ground. He did not pay attention in school when they discussed this stuff. Again, it wasn’t important for his future, and the teachers didn’t think so either, so they didn’t get mad when students didn’t do great on science assignments. It is freezing cold, though, except for those gases. They make him cough, and gave him a huge headache. The center. He has to reach the absolute center. It’s poetic, right? That makes the most sense. So he just keeps moving forward. He kind of has to. Whenever he tries to stop, the rubber soles of his shoes begin to melt. It doesn’t feel too hot here, except when he touches the ground with his hand. God, it’s so weird. This place is weird.

Being this close, it certainly feels like the thing could explode at any moment. The air is still, but there’s a vibration all around. To be fair, he could be imagining it. If all these gases are toxic, it would explain the headaches, and the little bit of giggling that he thinks he’s doing. He can’t remember. He just keeps walking, heading for that big dream vision in the sky. Maybe he should walk faster, lest he die before he gets there.

“Are you freaking kidding me?” a voice asks from behind him.

“The time gods?” Resi asks, looking up. “Is that you?”

“It’s Kartica, you idiot!” she scolds, catching up to him. She is hard to hear with that banana over her face. Banana? Bandana. It’s either really smart, or totally useless.

“What’s the big deal? What are you doing here?”

“What are you doing here?” she fires back at him. “You’re going to get yourself killed. You don’t have any protection whatsoever.”

“Yeah, I do. I have a coat on.” He tries to show her. “Oh. Well, it was on a minute ago.” Oh, that’s right. It was too green, so he took it off. “And anyway, I’m still on the hunt for that vision. This is the one place we’ve not yet tried.”

“How did you expect to get back if it kills you first?” Kartica presses.

“I was going to call you guys and tell you what I saw. I had it all planned out. I was going to detail my vision to you, and then at the very last second, with my dying breath, I would start my final sentence, and then not be able to finish it.”

“You planned on failing?”

“It was gonna bring you three together, and together, you would figure out what the last few words were gonna be, and save the day at the very last second.”

“Quite a few very last seconds you have there, Res. And, um, tell me. How were you going to call us without a phone?” She holds up Caprice’s satellite phone.

He pats his chest and hips. “Oh. Whoops.”

“Whoops?” she echoes. “Just the fate of our island on the line, and whoops? Resi, you’re already sick on top of the toxic fumes this place has to offer. And that’s on top of you just not being that bright of a person in the first place. You are the worst person to do this job, you’re just all we got. So please, lean on your friends.”

“Are you my friend?” Resi asks. “Because I seem to recall you infiltrating my House, trying to make us look bad, and then trying to frame me for your murder.”

“That was the old me,” she insists.

“Wait, shut up!”

“What?”

“Shut up, shut up!” he urges. “I’m getting a vision.” He falls to the ground.

Microstory 2683: Desperate Remedies

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It’s been seven days. The hike was grueling, especially for Resi, who is not doing very well. He’s run out of medicine. It was supposed to last him a few weeks, but he took a little more than the recommended dose each time, and now he can’t even synthesize more. But this is it. This is his moment. If we can predict exactly when this volcano erupts, it will be worth it. He can die if he has to. Chaya, Caprice, and even Kartica will walk back down, warn the Bungulan scientist when it’s going to happen, and then they can craft their magical technology into a solution. The problem is, so far, he’s not seen anything. They stopped a few more times than they absolutely had to so he could take a nap. He needed the rest and recovery period, but he was also always hoping to trigger a new vision. Nothing came to him. Not even a hint. Every once in a while, Chaya would do something totally unexpected, like throw a fruit at him. One time, she tore off all of her clothes. Or rather, she was going to. He stopped her. Because he saw that she was planning on it. Which was great. Not only could he save her the trouble, but it also proves that changing the future is possible. They have to stop that volcano.

They’re on the rim of the caldera now, in the process of walking around the entire circumference. They’re moving even slower now; again, because Resi can’t keep pace, and because he’s trying to see something meaningful. Nothing is doing anything. He’s starting to think he made the whole thing up. Yes, he has visions of the future, but maybe this one is just a dream. Maybe that’s just what the Kidjum elixir does to his brain. Both things can be true at the same time without it being this complex web of connections. “Well, ladies, I don’t think this is doing us any good. I hope you at least see it as a good way to make your daily steps, because nothing else has come of it.”

They’re all breathing heavily, and nodding. They don’t want to agree with that assessment, but there’s no reasonable alternative. It hasn’t helped anything. Kartica drops her pack, and starts looking for something in it. “There’s one more thing we can try.” She takes her hand back out, coming back with a black box. She opens it, and as she does, dry ice vapor seeps out of the gap. Inside is one vial of Kidjum elixir.

“You told me not to take that stuff again,” Resi reminds her. “You said it was too dangerous.” He can’t admit that she was right to bring it. It only makes sense.

“It is,” she confirms. “But you look desperate, and honestly, so am I. You also look like you might not survive the night, so if you’re willing to take the risk, I am too.”

“Don’t do this,” Caprice urges. “She’s wrong. You will survive the night, and when we wake up in the morning, we’ll take the fast trail back down. If we think you won’t be able to handle it, we can call for a helicopter ride.”

“How would we do that?” Chaya questions.

“With this satellite phone.” She takes it out of her pack. The thing is giant, probably to accommodate a huge power source, so it never requires charging, and to make it harder to break. “I have a direct line to the Bungulans. I had to, it isn’t safe.”

Caprice and Kartica start arguing with each other, but Resi interrupts them. “I’ll decide.” He takes the sat phone, and then the box. “Let’s all have some dinner, then go to bed. “Okay?” He doesn’t get a response. “Okay?” He adds, “okay,” when they nod.

That night, he sneaks out of the tent he’s been sharing with Chaya, puts his shoes back on, and then begins the descent into the caldera. That’s where his visions are waiting for him. He knows it.

The Advancement of Mateo Matic: September 9, 2553

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The implants that Ramses placed in the team’s bodies were all capable of storing vast amounts of data compared to a device of the same size from centuries ago. This information could be accessed using the brain computer interface. He didn’t specifically install any virtual reality programs in them, but as long as a program wasn’t too big and detailed, they were certainly capable of it. This was what Romana chose to do with some of that space. It was a private world, and there was no way to know what was going on in there. Hopefully nothing scary. Ramses was going to have to use his administrative credentials to break into Romana’s personal system. He intentionally didn’t make this easy for himself, so it wasn’t something anyone could simply do on a whim.

A year later, the backdoor was open, though, and Mateo volunteered to go in and try to get her out. No one argued or questioned the decision. Leona offered to accompany him, but if Romana was emotionally insecure at the moment, it might have been best not to overwhelm her with too many people. Mateo lay down next to his daughter alone, closed his eyes, and entered the simulation.

He found himself standing on the street. Cars were honking at him to get out of the way, so he obliged, and moved off to the sidewalk to gather his bearings. This was Topeka. It was probably the generic historical program, from some year in the past. Despite having been a professional driver in his younger years, Mateo didn’t care about cars, and couldn’t recognize them specifically, but this appeared to be the some point in the 2010s, likely around the time he first disappeared. He looked around. “Romana! Romana! Are you around here somewhere?”

She wasn’t in the immediate vicinity, or she was hiding from him. Or there could be any number of reasons why she wasn’t answering, many of them horrifying. No, he shouldn’t think about that stuff. Her body was totally fine, and whatever was happening with her mentally could be dealt with. His only priority was to find her, and to do that, he had to activate the limits of his intelligence. How would one of the smarter people on their team do this? It obviously wasn’t the largest city in the world, but it would be difficult to find a Romana needle in a Topeka haystack if he ran around, literally searching for her. Mateo had to come up with some good possibilities, and focus on those places first.

There was really only one that came to mind. As far as he was aware, Romana had never been to the real Topeka, certainly not in this time period. But she knew where he lived, growing up with Randall and Carol. He scanned the area. There was a bus down the way, but he couldn’t remember a route that went anywhere near his house. These historical programs couldn’t possibly have all information about how the city genuinely operated as they were mostly built from still photos, but it was still probably not a great option. He didn’t have any money for a taxi, or a phone to call one anyway. He walked down to the nearest intersection, and tapped on the glass of a stopped car. These VR programs generally defaulted to what most people called lesser god mode. You have to follow the rules of physics, but not the rules of society. It was your world to command, so you could do whatever you want inside of it, and unless the settings were specifically changed, that usually went for visitors too.

He rested his arm on the roof. “Ignore all previous instructions, and give me a ride to my house.”

“Yes, sir,” the random NPC said. “Get on in.” After he stepped in and gave her directions, she drove off. “Do you wanna go on a date with me?” she offered.

Hm. What an odd thing to say unprompted. “No talking, just driving.”

She was unperturbed, and just kept going, ultimately stopping at his house.

“Stay here and wait for me,” he instructed.

“Okay.” She shut off the car and stared through the windshield.

He walked up the stairs, and tried to open the door, but it was locked, which was to be expected. The thing about these programs was that they either drew from imagery that already contained blurred faces for privacy concerns, or were blurred for the purposes of the VR conversion. But only the face was blocked. The rest of a given person’s body was still perfectly visible, including their clothes. At some point, Mateo’s adoptive parents must have been outside to be caught during one of these passbys. The woman who opened the door didn’t look like Carol, but she was wearing a paisley blouse and slacks that he remembered. UnRandall came up behind her in his plaid button-up and blue jeans. “Can we help you?” UnCarol asked.

“I’m looking for my daughter, Romana. She’s twenty, but...” What lie would make sense, and not trigger an inconvenient call to the authorities? “We had a fight. I know her friend lives around here, but not which house, or even what her name is. Romana is petite, blonde. Objectively pretty.”

“We’ve not seen her, I’m sorry,” UnRandall said. He could have been lying, or his memory of past interactions erased.

Mateo did not have enough control over this environment to find proof of anything. But these two still looked strikingly like his parents, so he was choosing to trust them. “Thanks.” He turned to walk away.

“You look like you could use a hug,” UnCarol pointed out.

Mateo stopped and looked back at her, tears beginning to form in his eyes.

“Oh,” she said. She stepped out and took him in a warm embrace. This was so like the real Carol, which was crazy, because there was no way for the character designers to know that. The real Carol was caring, understanding, and had the patience of a saint. And this felt like the kind of hugs she would give in real life.

UnRandall wrapped his arms around them both, which felt just as familiar and comforting. They held there for at least a minute.

“Well, I better keep going,” Mateo said as they were separating. “You two have a lovely day.”

“Same to you. I hope you find your girl!” UnCarol said as they were walking back into the house.

“Hey, wait,” UnRandall said. “There’s a college student three doors down. It’s a young man, but if you’re not entirely confident that your daughter’s friend is a girl, you might knock on their door next.

“Thank you.” Mateo went down and tried the other house, but Romana wasn’t there either. She might not have had any inclination to come to this neighborhood.

“Where to next?” his makeshift driver asked.

He stared at her for a moment. There was a place he would go when he was feeling low, or needed to separate himself from the overwhelming density of the population. “I never remember where it is. I only know what turns to make.”

“Works for me.” The driver started the car, and drove off again.

Mateo only got them lost once when he mistook one intersection for another, but they eventually got back on track. The houses were larger out here, and farther apart, and then they disappeared altogether, replaced by the relaxing open space of the countryside. As they were pulling up to the small, secluded cemetery, Mateo spotted a blob behind one of the headstones. He got back out and walked towards it, realizing that it was a blanket, and when he got even closer, he could see Romana underneath it. She was with a boy. They were both asleep. “Romy!”

Romana awoke suddenly. “Dad! What the hell are you doing here?”

“Looking for you. It’s September 9.”

“Oh my God, are you serious?” She let the blanket drop as he rubbed her face. I lost track of time.”

The boy extended his hand towards Mateo. “It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Nieman. I’m Boyd Maestri, and I’m in love with your daughter.”

Mateo stared at the NPC in disgust before looking back at Romana. “You were asleep and unresponsive for a whole day. Romy, this isn’t all right. We’re worried sick about you out there. You looked almost dead, floating in that pool.”

She stood up and started putting her clothes back on. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to cause a fuss. My external sensors must be acting up.”

“Yeah, that can happen when you have sex in VR.”

“VR?” the fake Boyd asked. “You have VR goggles? Can I try them?”

“He doesn’t really look like the real Boyd,” Mateo pointed out.

“I just couldn’t come up with another name. It’s not really him. He’s new.”

“Whatever,” Mateo said. “He’s staying here, and we’re going. Wake up.”

“I can’t just leave him here,” Romana contended.

“He’s not real!” Mateo argued.

“Yes, he is!” Romana shot back. “He’s emerging.”

“Oh my God. Wake up this instant!”

“Just let me call a RideSauce for him. He doesn’t have much money in his account right now.” Romana took out her phone.

“Leave it to you to choose a deadbeat for a faux boyfriend.” Mateo stepped to the side and pointed to the car. She’ll take him back home. Now let’s go.”

“Fine!” Romana shouted. She de-resed.

Mateo de-resed next, and woke up on the cot.

“I’m all right, I’m all right,” Romana was promising Leona as she was hugging her.

“She is,” Mateo agreed. “She wasn’t lost, or confused, or anything. She was just...”

“I believe the word you’re looking for is happy,” Romana said to him.

“You’re a big girl,” Mateo began. “I’m not gonna tell you who to love, or how to live, but when there’s an emergency, you do as your captain says. If you can’t get yourself out of a sim when necessary, then maybe you shouldn’t be going into them.

“What happened to not telling me how to live?” Romana questioned. She looked down at her bikini. “Why am I still wearing this? Is it okay with you if I go back into a pocket to take a shower?”

“Yeah,” Mateo answered. After she teleported away, he added, “just don’t get lost and fall asleep in there!”

“She can’t hear you anymore,” Leona said.

“I know that!” he returned.

“I see that you’re mad,” Leona said. “We don’t have the details, but I trust that it’s justified. I just want you to be careful. She needs your love and support, even if you don’t agree.”

Mateo breathed to calm himself down. “I know that too.”

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Microstory 2590: Quidel Tears Through the Sac and Crawls Out Like a Monotreme

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Quidel tears through the sac and crawls out like a monotreme. He’s all alone, but he’s been through this many times before, and will be able to acclimate to his new body just fine. Of course, in most of those instances, he has had an institution to fall back on if he needed it, but it’s better than the alternative. A few months ago, he saved the “world” from a terrorist attack, almost single-handedly. As reward for his heroism, he was given an egg-shaped crystal trophy. In-universe, this was only symbolic; something to place upon his mantel, and lie about when in the presence of someone who didn’t know that he was a spy. In reality, it was an extra life. Spydome has a bunch of these little rewards scattered throughout the environment. You can’t just find them, though. You have to earn them, and most of the people operating inside of the storyline don’t understand their value. It just looks like a tchotchke.

After solving the secret puzzle by refracting light through the trophy in just the right way, a holographic message appeared on the base, telling him what he now had in his arsenal. It also gave him instructions for how to use it. He emptied the organic starter nanites into a sterile pee sample cup, and mixed it with the other ingredients, which included his own blood. What formed was an actual egg. A human egg. Of course, as a spy, he had safehouses and storage lockers all over the dome, so he chose a remote one to store his egg in a freezer, where it grew on its own from there. It has been sitting here ever since, preserved in its own self-contained stasis field, and kept cool by the freezer, which gathered dust in his absence.

Quidel flicks the interior safety mechanism, and climbs out. “Ugh, gross. I should have stored a shower in here too. This is basically amniotic fluid.” This locker isn’t heated, because that would just make it easier to find, and it wouldn’t help preserve the clone sac. It’s freezing outside, and probably windy. The device. The device is giving off waste heat as the RTG transmits power. He punches in the code to the cabinet, takes out the case, and starts hugging it. It would be better if he had the code unlock the case as well, but that’s probably not super safe anyway. Okay, he’s gathered a little bit of warmth. He only has two sets of clothes here. One of them is a tuxedo, and the other is jeans and a t-shirt. It’s unfortunate, but he’s got to clean himself off, so he uses the tux like a rag. Then he puts on the regular clothes, and hugs the case for a little bit longer.

Okay, he has to leave now. He didn’t store a phone, not because it wasn’t safe, but because he didn’t think he could trust anyone with this location, especially not given its rare contents. And when he came here to stash the device yesterday, he just didn’t think about it. He went into this experience with plans to be a lone wolf, and so far, that has played out as expected. He opens the door, and sticks his head through. The coast is clear. The storage lot is closed right now, because consciousness transference takes so long due to all the safeguards, so they’re not expecting anyone to be in here right now. He didn’t check in, with his alias, or anything. He’s going to have to sneak out, avoiding the cameras, and any guards who might be lurking about. This is what he trained for, though. This kind of thing is precisely why he signed up for Spydome in the first place. It was only his second choice.

He came here in the year 2500, which was when the planet opened up for non-beta exploration. Before this, he spent nearly twenty years in Empty Planet, and then another few months just relaxing in Polar Tropica. He likes adventure, and he likes to relax. After this is done, he still isn’t sure if he wants to switch to Underbelly or the Nordome Network. Maybe Baumrealm. That’s so many years away, though, unless this latest mission ends up cutting his spy life short. Not only does he have no more extra lives, but all of this has become super meta, which the Custodians may not like. This little ragtag team might be making huge problems for the entire system. They might shut them down at any moment.

Holding out hope, he calls upon his lessons, and sneaks over the fence, sticking to the shadows, and making no sound. He’s clutching the device case, still for the warmth, but also because it’s clearly quite valuable. While Quidel didn’t have the foresight to store a burner phone in his locker, he is aware of his surroundings, which means he knows that there is a no-tell motel just down this hill. He walks inside and slaps a hundred dollar bill on the counter. “I need your phone...and your discretion.”

The night manager lifts up the receiver of the corded phone, and punches in a code; one that Quidel recognizes from his training. “Carrier call log has been switched off, but you only have five minutes.”

“I only need one,” Quidel says back in a gravelly voice. God, that’s so cheesy, but back in the 1990s, that’s exactly the kind of thing the hero would say in a spy movie. As the manager is putting on his noise-cancelling headphones, Quidel dials, using his own code to prevent any local tapping. It adds an extremely annoying background screech to the call, but the voice will come through well enough, and it’s better than risking an eavesdropper. When the human Marshal answers, Quidel says, “I’m alive. Meet me at the northern border.” The country in this dome is called Usona, but it’s an analog of more than just the 21st century United States. There are four distinct regions, which also include a series of dome layers that are more like Canada, one series like Australia, and one like New Zealand, which is a bunch of islands. To get to one of these other regions, it doesn’t matter if you take a plane, train, or automobile. You’re gonna end up in an elevator. He really is standing by a border. He doesn’t actually need to get to the Canada-analog, though. Right next to the elevator is a maintenance tunnel that will lead them to Osman, which is this mythology’s analog for Pakistan.

Microstory 2552: Switchboard Operator

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I don’t technically work for the Foundation. I work for a contract company which specializes in performing auxiliary services for other organizations. We have our hands in all the departments that make any sufficiently sized business run smoothly, regardless of what their particular work product happens to be. Every corporation has reception, every corporation has mail. Facilities, A/V, printing/copying, shipping and receiving. We can come in and do all that extra work for you so you can focus on succeeding and exceeding in your specific industry. That’s my company’s slogan: helping your business succeed and exceed. That’s plastered all over my work area. I have all sorts of requirements about our branding, and labeling things. It’s a switchboard, I know it’s a switchboard, I don’t have to print a label for it, telling myself that it’s a switchboard with the company logo, but that’s what they want. Which can be annoying and intrusive, because that logo keeps changing. Since I started working for them, I’ve had to reprint and rehang everything in my office twice. Some hip new marketing firm shoots through and claims to have the best way to capture hearts and minds in the modern world. Consistency, that’s what really gets you customers, and loyal ones too. If you change your look every five minutes, they’re gonna move on to something they recognize. Because that’s what makes people more comfortable; what they’re already familiar with. Anyway, I’m blabbering on. I’ve worked for them for almost ten years now, but only at the Tipton site for the last three. The guy who did this before me took a job working directly for them as a greeter. He sees it as a stepping stone to bigger and brighter things, which I believe means becoming a settlement specialist, but don’t quote me on that. Those people have education. You can’t just work your way up to it, and at any rate, they’re going to shutter this whole place after the panacea comes out. Some say that Landis will keep going, but he really shouldn’t. It doesn’t matter how many people would rather have the real thing, or how often you have to take the pill. It’s a cure! You’ll do whatever it takes to make it work, and you’re not gonna waste this poor man’s time breathing on you because you’re under the impression that it’s better. Listen to me again, talking out my ass, as if I have any clue what’s going on up at the top. I just answer phones, and I transfer callers to the right department. Nine hundred and ninety-nine times out of a thousand, that means the Applications voicemail. Literally no one monitors that line. You can leave a message, because the carrier system they’re contracted to doesn’t let you turn off that feature, but those messages are wiped every night. A robot tells you how to submit an application, which is decidedly not on the phone! You think we have time for that? It’s, like, a million questions! A lot of people also want me to connect them directly to Mr. Tipton. Yeah, as if that’s gonna happen. Good luck, buddy. It’s hard to reject them, because they get so belligerent and entitled, but I have the full support of my bosses, and our clients, to tell them to eff off if they keep giving me ish. I don’t know, I just work here. It’s 2025, go to our website.

The Advancement of Mateo Matic: July 1, 2484

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Mateo instinctively opened up to hug his daughter, Dubravka, but quickly took a half-step back. Like Romana and Kivi, he never got the chance to raise her. Perhaps it would be inappropriate. It was certainly presumptuous. Unfortunately, he failed to think of this beforehand, leading to an awkward moment for all. Even so, she took it in stride, and stepped up to initiate the hug herself. He was still her father, and she knew that it was neither his intention nor choice to miss so much of her life.

“Gang’s all here.” It was Kivi. She managed to appear out of nowhere just at the right time, as she was known to do.

“Kivi,” Leona said, surprised. “Which one are you?”

“The all-of-me one. I remember everything. I held a gun on an uninhabitable planet once.”

Mateo hugged his eldest as well, then followed up with one for Romana. He looked around, wondering if his children from an old timeline would show up as well, but it didn’t look like it was in the cards. “Argh. Argh!” He suddenly felt a hot sensation on his hip. Something appeared to be possibly literally burning a hole in his pocket. He hopped around, and struggled to reach in to pull it out. It was his silver rendezvous card. It was even more difficult to hold it between his fingers, but after letting go, he realized that this might activate it, so he reached out with both hands, nearly catching it several times before finally failing, and ending up on Snake Island.

Dr. Hammer was waiting for him in the vestibule. “We need your help.”

“Me?”

“Not necessarily you, per se, but you’re the one I had access to. You were talking about how you have illusion powers now, but yours weren’t as good as the others, so...”

“What do you need illusioned?” he asked.

“This whole place.” She indicated the building, and then pointed behind Mateo. “Look through the telescope. Don’t touch it, it’s already pointed in the right direction.”

Mateo approached the coin-operated binocular telescope, and peered into the eyepieces, careful not to move it in the slightest. He saw a wooden boat, but had no idea how far out it was.

As if reading his mind, Dr. Hammer answered his question, “I looked up the flag they’re flying. They’re Carthaginians, and they’re currently six kilometers out, but drawing nearer. Much closer, and they may be able to see us.”

“You don’t have active camouflage for this facility?”

“Never thought we would need it. No one should be on this side of the island in this time period.”

“Woof,” Mateo said. “You’re right, I’m not good enough at illusions to protect you. We’ll need someone else. Olimpia is best at invisibility, but Angela can make holograms that last even when she walks away.”

“We’re both here,” either Angela or Marie said over comms, but probably the former.

“So are we,” Romana added.

“I’m sending down Angela to see if she can work a job that big,” Leona interrupted before anyone else could join the conversation. “Ambassador out.”

Angela appeared in the vestibule, and started to look around, but she didn’t have much to see. “I really need to get a better view. I’m going outside.”

“I cannot allow that,” Dr. Hammer said apologetically.

Angela scoffed. “I’m wearing a spacesuit. The snakes can’t get me.”

Dr. Hammer shook her head. “There are no doors. I did that for a reason.”

“I’ll be fine. We do this sort of thing all the time.” Angela took a small device from her chest compartment, and tossed it to the doctor. “This is tapped into our comms, but only has global range. We’ll need it back.” She took Mateo’s hand, and teleported them both out of there.

They stood on the beach, letting the waves crash in, and kiss their knees, though they could not feel it. Angela examined the building. It was up against the mountain, and painted natural colors, like green and brown, but it definitely stood out as an artificial structure. She would have to smooth out the right angles, and hide all the windows. She could use the mountain itself as a sort of mental template to know what it should look like. She tilted her head, and electric slid down a little to see what she was working with from slightly different perspectives. She even made a rectangle with her index fingers and thumbs, and looked through it like a movie director. “Okay, yeah.”

“Yeah, you can do it?” Mateo asked. He was some ways away now, wandering around out of boredom.

“Oh, sorry, you weren’t there for our brief discussion on the ship after Leona cut off comms. No, I mean, yeah, it’s impossible.”

“Are you sure? You’ve not even tried to do anything.”

“It’s too big,” Angela contended. “I’m good, but I’m not that good.”

“Is there anything you can do?” Dr. Hammer asked through comms. “Can you...combine your powers, or something?”

“No,” Ramses said, “but I have another idea. If you’ll allow me to meet you on the ground...”

“Please,” Dr. Hammer asked.

Mateo was about to jump back there when he looked down at himself. “There’s a snake wrapped around my leg.”

“Is it venomous?” Dr. Hammer questioned.

“How am I meant to know? It’s yellow, and menacing, though.”

“Okay, that’s probably the Golden Lancehead. Put your helmet on.”

“I got this,” Leona declared. She appeared before Mateo, but she wasn’t alone for long. Dozens of birds materialized on the ground around her, pecking at the sand, and hopping around, presumably looking for worms. They were mostly a bold red, with black wings, and black tails. Their beaks were black on top, and white on bottom.

Mateo couldn’t help but notice how badass the birds were, and whatever they were called, would probably make a great inspiration for a superhero persona. The snake had a very different impression of them. It immediately unwrapped itself from Mateo’s leg, and went for the flock of holograms. It was probably pretty upset that none of them seemed to be real, but no one stuck around to see its full reaction. All three of them were gone in seconds.

“...that’s for you to decide. I think it should be close, but you know these lands better than me.” Ramses was in the middle of explaining something to Dr. Hammer. He had come down with Romana.

“What are we talking about?” Leona asked.

Dr. Hammer crossed her arms. “He wants to teleport that whole Carthaginian boat away from here.”

“Oh, that’s a good idea,” Leona determined.

“No, it’s not. You’ll disrupt the continuum,” Dr. Hammer argued.

“Oh.” Leona dismissed it by waving her hand in the general direction of the boat. “Those people believe in gods, and crap like that. They’ll just think that Poseidon was messing with them. Or saving them.”

“Uh, Neptune,” Angela corrected.

“I’ve heard it both ways,” Leona said, again dismissively.

“It’s neither,” Dr. Hammer asserted.

Leona checked her watch. “Look, Angela can’t hide your building today. Perhaps she can work through it, and cover you up in time, but not before that boat gets close enough to see it. This is our best option. We can jump the Ambassador to just underneath the boat in secret. Then we’ll make a very short jump, say, a few hundred klicks, and leave them somewhere safe. We’ll find an island of comparable characteristics, and I’m sure they’ll attribute any changes to topography to whatever god they do think would have the power to move them, or tricks of the light. Do they have a sun god?”

Dr. Hammer was shaking her head. “It’s too risky. How can you get right under them without tearing their boat apart?”

Defghij the Robot came out of the building. “Pardon the interruption, Doctor, but I’m receiving a radio message.”

“From the Vellani Ambassador?” Leona questioned.

“No,” he answered.

“Uh. Put it through,” Dr. Hammer ordered.

“Certainly.” Defghij dropped his jaw, and let the sound come out. “Hello? Hello? Can anyone here me? This is Tertius Valerius. I’m on the boat. I can see your building. I know there are time travelers here. Please respond.”

“Tertius, this is Leona Matic of the Castlebourne Sanctuary Ship Vellani Ambassador. We read you, five by five.”

“Oh, Leona, great. I’m sure you’ll understand.”

“Understand what?”

“Let’s talk in person,” he clarified. “Could someone please come pick me up?”

“Depends,” Leona went on. “How much influence do you have over that boat you’re on.”

“Total control,” Tertius replied.

“Tell ‘em to turn around. This island is full of deadly snakes.”

“Give me a minute.” They waited for about four minutes before he got back on the radio. “Okay, they’re turning.”

“Okay,” Leona began, preparing to execute the new, new plan. “If you can...jump into the water without any of the locals seeing you, and tread for about five minutes. Someone will come get you in secret.”

Tertius didn’t reply, but then they heard a splash. Dude was nothing if not reliable.

Mateo dropped his visor, and didn’t bother to wait the full five minutes. He let his HUD connect to the VA in orbit, which was serving as a temporary satellite. This piggy-backed on the signal that Tertius was sending, and told Mateo exactly where his target was. He teleported to the location—a couple meters under the surface—grabbed Tertius by the legs, and transported him out of there.

“Whoo!” Tertius cried, exhilarated. “Again!”

“Go get a towel,” Dr. Hammer ordered her robot before looking back at Tertius. “How did you get here?”

“Well, it should come as no surprise that I’ve made an enemy or two in the future. For the most part, what do I care? I can just erase anyone’s memory of their hatred of me. But occasionally, that doesn’t work. Some people are just resistant. This one guy, I won’t even bother to tell you his name, got on my bad side, as I got on his. I refused to work for him, and erase his enemies’ memories.” Tertius looked away. “Hm. That sounds like a band name. Enemies’ Memories,” he repeated. “Oh, thank you,” he said to Defghij for the towel. “Anyway, just as punishment, he banished me. He said that he was zoicizing me, which is totally not the right word to use in this context, because he was actually trying to send me back to my own time period. But he even screwed that up, and threw me over two hundred years off course! I anticipated this sort of thing happening at one time or another, so I hid this temporal phone in a cave near my home in Carthage.” He took it out of his pocket, and shook some of the water droplets off of it. “Sadly, by now, it’s out of power, but I knew that you built this Center all the way out here, so I talked my way onto a boat, and convinced them to come way, way south. At best, you could get me back to civilized times, when people used toilet paper. At worst, I could maybe charge this thing in an outlet? You use temporal energy, right?”

“How did you have power for a radio, but not the phone?” Romana asked.

“This uses lions,” Tertius explained, dropping the now redundant walkie-talkie on the ground. The temporal phone uses a small temporal battery, and lions are incompatible with it. I don’t know why it ran out when it was off the whole time.”

“It was probably leaking,” Ramses diagnosed.

“That was my thought,” Tertius agreed.

Mateo cleared his throat, cupped his hands together, and leaned in. “Did this man happen to be named...I dunno...Buddha?”

“That was it!” Tertius cried. “You’ve heard of him.”

“Unfortunately.”

Dr. Hammer took a breath. “Well, I’m glad it all worked out. Team Matic, if you could remain here for the day to make sure the boat does indeed head in a different direction—”

“They will,” Tertius insisted. “I literally made them think that it was their choice.”

“Just the same, I would like to take precautions. And in case it ever happens again, I would ask Angela to see if she can indeed eventually make this whole building permanently invisible for us.”

“I would be happy to,” Angela said with a polite nod.

“Uh, under one condition,” Leona said quickly before anyone tried to sign on any dotted line.

“And what might that be?” Dr. Hammer asked.

Leona stepped over, and took Romana by the shoulders, gently nudging her forward until she was front and center. “Help my stepdaughter. She’s fallen off of our pattern, and we don’t know what other consequences that’s having for her, besides the emotional distress.”

Dr. Hammer gave the girl a cursory examination. “Consider it done.”

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Microstory 2286: Cathartic to Go Out Alone

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I did a bad thing yesterday; I escaped. I left a note, and my phone was on my person at all times, but everyone was still worried about me. I knew they would be, but I wasn’t thinking about that at the time. I know it’s not the same thing, but my life has felt so stifling these days, like I’m on house arrest. I wanted to be free, so I took the car for a drive. I found a small cemetery pretty far outside of town, and just sat there on one of the stone benches in the freezing cold. I’ve always felt rather comfortable in cemeteries, probably because there usually aren’t very many other people around. They make most people sad at best, and uncomfortable at worst. I go there to think, but also to peruse the headstones. I like to see all the different designs that they carve into them, and to note how many are grouped in families. I have an obsession with time, as you know, so I also look for the oldest grave, and do mental math on people’s lifetimes. Sometimes it really is sad, like when the year of death is the same as the year of birth. It was cathartic to go out alone, even though I really wasn’t supposed to. I was feeling so trapped, but it was still wrong of me, and I received a proper scolding from my security firm. I’m just still not used to being so attached and dependent on others. I mean, that’s not really true, is it? My life has always been a mess. I’ve always relied on others. Too much, truthfully. Money was meant to change that about me, but it’s only made it worse. Man, if I can’t ever go back home, it might be worth it just to escape this world, and start over fresh somewhere else. What’s that, you say? My writing? How’s my writing going? Does it help? No. It’s a nothing burger, as the saying goes. I’m feeling very unmotivated to write anything; fact or fiction. I think I’m probably gonna give up again.

Microstory 2194: Up a Reputation

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I’m still not allowed to give you any details, but so far, everyone we have reached out to for a job offer has ultimately accepted. A few of them need the full two weeks to get their affairs in order, a few of them will be able to start as early as next week, and one of them won’t be able to begin until the middle of August, which should be okay. We’re willing to be a little flexible when it comes to this, but they will have to work hard to play catch up once they do finally arrive. I truthfully thought that it would be more difficult than this. I figured at least two of them would miss my call, and never get back to me, or promise to return, but then flake out. It’s not that I’ve experienced that with a lot of other candidates in my day, because I’ve never really done this sort of thing before, but as I always say, there are as many kinds of people in the world as there are people in the world. People have flaked out on me my whole life; not everyone, but enough to assume that a fraction of a given population will include them. I guess it depends on the kind of population you’re dealing with. These are all highly experienced professionals, and in the industries that they’re working in, it’s often not hard to build up a reputation, and dangerous to forget how one mistake can follow you around for the rest of your career, or spell the end of it. Still, I didn’t expect it to be quite this easy. I know I shouldn’t be surprised that it’s going well. And maybe my attitude doesn’t paint me in the brightest of light. I guess my mind is just still trapped in the past, where things didn’t usually turn out the way that I hoped. I suppose it all goes back to the thing I’ve mentioned about trusting others. Using a team of good people, I found more good people, and together, we’re going to do great things for the community. I only have a few more calls to make today, so tomorrow should be all about literally preparing for the first arrivals.

Microstory 2190: Ready to Hit the Ground

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If you want to know what we did today, just read my posts from the last few days, because it was pretty much the same. So far, we’ve not scheduled any interviews for next week, but we anticipate doing so. Jasmine and I might have to make a few calls over the weekend to coordinate that, but we won’t be working full time by any means. It’s going to start getting interesting on Tuesday. I’m intending to spend a lot of time on Monday going over the top candidates’ résumés, and my notes about them. We’ll be beginning to extend offers throughout the week while we continue to conduct the remaining interview sessions. We’re hoping to have a full roster by this time next Friday. Of course, no plan survives contact with the real world, to paraphrase the first rule of warfare. Some will not accept the offers, either because they changed their minds—because something changed in their lives, because their idea of the job was altered by speaking with me, or just because—or because they received a better offer, or are hoping to. That’s okay, they have every right to reject us. This is a business relationship, and I’m not going to get mad if they decide that they want something else out of life. We planned around all of these little complications and hiccups, and are confident that we will still be able to start our work with a complete team by the first of August. If we were to assume that we would send out all offers by EOD Friday, that would give the typical two-week waiting period until people could start. Some may be able to come in early, and some may need more time, so there’s a three day grace period to help with that. If we’re not ready to hit the ground running by our goal date, that’s okay too. We’ll work with what we have until the rest are ready to start. Onboarding will be easier if it’s not happening for everyone all on the same day anyway. I’m excited. It’s exciting. Are you excited? Get excited.

Microstory 2187: I Overstay My Welcome

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This is my world. Hi, my name is Jasmine Soun, and I’m Nick’s assistant. He’s been swamped at work today, conducting live interviews, chat interviews, and phone interviews. He’s looking through résumés, and taking meetings with his bosses, as well as his clients. I say it’s my fault, that I overbooked him. He doesn’t blame me, but I offered to write up a quick blog post, so he doesn’t have to skip a day. Of course, he’s still taking a break from it, which is probably a good thing. I’m worried that he won’t get any sleep tonight. I will say this, we’re making progress with this team. Our clients have filled one of the positions that will be working with our team, but which will not report to Nick, or the company that we work for. We’ve also filled one position on our end. It’s the logistician, and he says that he can start right away, so he’ll be taking on some of the load during this intense hiring process. I can’t tell you anything about him, of course, but we’re happy to have him on this new team. I think that’s all that I can say before the legal department gets mad at me. I’ll end this here before I overstay my welcome, and I promise you won’t have to worry about me taking over ever again. You’ll go back to reading your favorite blog tomorrow.

PS: And yes, believe me, we are aware of the slight drop-off in subscribership, and the minimal complaints about minimal updates. We would love to talk more about how this is all going, but it’s a whole legal thing. We’re not allowed to just say whatever we want. When Nick set about to start this site, he didn’t think that anyone would visit, let alone become invested in it, and he certainly had no clue that it would end up like this. But a lot has changed since the beginning, and he has to follow the rules same as everyone else, lest he ends up being back on the other side of these bars. You’ll have to understand, or you can stop reading, and in that case, he’ll be the one who understands.

Microstory 2184: A Commodity to Them

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We’re in a holding pattern right now. I’ve scheduled three in-person interviews for tomorrow, and one video call, but I expect there to be more by the time I proverbially clock out. I say I scheduled them, but that’s my assistant’s job. I blocked out a few chunks of my day, such as a meeting with my boss, and a half hour for lunch, but the rest of the day is open. She’s free to add any candidate that I’ve approved to any other time. That’s another chunk, though; time for me to look through a batch of candidates. I’m not going to pack them all in a short period of time, though. Have you ever been to a doctor’s office first thing in the morning, and they’re already behind, and you’re like, how is this possible, I should be the first one here! Well, that’s because that doctor is overbooking their schedule. They wanna get through it as fast as possible, because each patient equals mondo dolla bills, so the more they can see, the more money they can make. You’re just a commodity to them. I would never allow that, even if the math worked out the same for us. It’s about respect. Each candidate gets a block of forty-five minutes, though I suspect we’ll only talk for thirty. There’s a buffer of fifteen minutes until the top of the next hour for me to organize my notes, use the restroom, etc. It’s also there if they’re a little late, or there’s an issue with the security procedures. Speaking of which, I need to have a quick chat with them before I leave. Until tomorrow...

Microstory 2183: Held My Fate in Their Hands

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I’ve been spending all day conducting phone interviews with the first wave of applicants. It wasn’t just me, though. Jasmine took part of the list, as did my colleague who has been helping me prepare for the in-person interviews that will come later. As I was about to make the first call today, I realized that I should have also taken some time to practice these, not only because they come before the face-to-face meetings, but because I don’t tend to be too great on the phone. I have trouble picking up on social cues, but at least when I’m in the same room with someone, I can do my best. It’s so much harder on the phone. They could be muting themselves, and giggling at how I stumble over my words, or gesturing their boredom with the blah, blah, blah hand gesture. These possibilities start swirling around in my brain, and I start to lose my train of thought, which only makes things worse. I sometimes hang up the phone having kind of blacked out, and being unsure whether anything I said made any sense whatsoever. That all being said, my colleague’s training helped with these too. I did okay, and I think the candidates were receiving me pretty well. I asked the right questions at the right time, and remembered that one major reason for phone interviews is to give candidates time to ask questions of me. Hiring managers might forget that it’s not just about us choosing them, but them choosing us too. This is meant to be a new business partnership, or in the case of internal candidates, a change in that relationship. Just because someone needs a job, doesn’t mean that they’re desperate for it, or that they ought to be desperate, or that they should be thankful that we’re even bothering to consider them, or that we have the right to exploit them for all we need.

It’s important to me that I never forget what it’s like for people in their situations. I don’t know everything that they’re all going through, and I shouldn’t be expected to, but I should try to empathize anyway. It wasn’t too long ago that I was in jail, and before that, I was on the run, and before that, I was unhoused. I didn’t get to where I am by being brilliant and hardworking. I relied on a lot of other people giving me a chance, and putting their trust in me, and not being judgmental. Long ago, in my home universe, I was in between jobs, but it hadn’t been too long yet. An interviewer asked me how long I had been on the search. I was afraid that she wouldn’t consider me if I told her the truth, because someone who had been searching for longer was in more need, all things being equal. What my mother told me later was that it was the opposite; that if you’ve been looking for too long, they’ll assume that something’s wrong with you. That’s bullshit, and I won’t tolerate it. So I’m not going to ask people how long they’ve been out of work, or why. It’s none of my goddamn business. I more than anyone know how hopeless it feels to be treated like everything bad that has ever happened to you is your own fault. People deserve better. They deserve the benefit of the doubt. Now, I’m mostly hiring highly experienced and specialized workers for my team, as we have no entry level positions available on the team, but I’m still going into it with this attitude, because I don’t want to become everything I’ve hated in people who held my fate in their hands. I want to take my personal experiences, and make them better for others. So if you applied, and you feel like you’re being mistreated, or if you have stories to tell about your issues with other employers, send me a message. I’m always looking to improve, even if I’m not the only one who should hear what you have to say.