Microstory 2317: Vacuus, August 28, 2178

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Generated by Google ImageFX text-to-image AI software, powered by Imagen 3

Dear Condor,

Thank you so much for writing me back. I had so much anxiety, wondering if you would get my message, and if you did, if you want to have anything to do with me. I’m sorry to hear about your world. We don’t know anything about that all the way out here. Well, I don’t at least. I’ve recently learned that I was kept in the dark about my whole family history, so they could be keeping other things from me, for all I know. So it sounds like we’re in the same boat in some respects, trapped with limited movement, in a hostile environment. The difference is that people here are trying to make the world a better place, and it sounds like a bunch of greedy corporations ruined yours on purpose. The last we heard—or I heard, anyway—it was pretty much a paradise. I have a holo-window on my wall. I can change it to anything I want on a whim, but I’ve always kept it on The Blue Marble. It’s the first full-disc image of Earth, and it’s over 200 years old. It’s not the best quality, but I think it’s perfect, because it represents humanity’s ambition, and the spirit of exploration. Plus, it’s nice to pretend that I have a nice view, even though my quarters are on the interior side. As much as I struggle living here, I know that just flying tens of billions of kilometers to this spot is an achievement that proves that we can do great things. We can be better than the atmosphere poisoners. I have faith that things will get better one day, for both you and me, on our respective worlds. I’ve asked about going to Earth many times, long before I knew anything about you, but it’s always been impossible. This was planned as a one-way mission. We’re supposed to die here. Some already have. We don’t have the resources or manpower to engineer a return trip, and I’m sure that the people in charge don’t want that, because then probably too many people would volunteer. I’m rambling, sorry, but that’s just who I am. I’m not sure if I was born this way, or if it has more to do with how I grew up. People here are always so preoccupied with their work. If you want to be seen, you have to be loud, and you kind of have to say it quickly before they get bored, and start to ignore you. Thanks again for responding! Hope to hear from you again in a week!

Love,

Corinthia

Microstory 2044: Nevada

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Even though he hasn’t been to all fifty states, my dad travels a lot too. He is a photojournalist, so he takes pictures for news websites. He works as a freelancer, so he doesn’t just work for one site. He usually stays around where he lives, but he sometimes has to go out to other areas. Actually, the reason that he and my papa met on the train in Kentucky is because he was there to photograph the completion of a new college outside of Louisville, which was partially funded by someone who lived in his part of Virginia. He usually only leaves the state when there’s a connection to the local area, but a few years ago, in the year 2020, he wanted to go to Nevada. Dad also went to college, and met friends. One of his friends was a soldier who lost one of his legs in the war. He lived in Nevada, and wanted to raise awareness for something called veteran healthcare, so he set about to take the longest hike on a single leg. He carried a pack on his back, and only used a cane to support himself. He walked 17 miles all in one day! Isn’t that impressive? I couldn’t even do it with two legs. My dad was there to photograph the whole journey, so he also walked the 17 miles. My papa went on the trip with him, but he didn’t do much hiking. He dropped them off at the beginning of the trail, and then picked them up at the end. I stayed here with my cousins, since I had school.

Extremus: Year 26

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It was a nice memorial service, but it wasn’t elaborate, or particularly well-attended. Vice Admiral Thatch was liked well enough, but he wasn’t the most popular member of the crew, and many civilians had never heard of him. It was about as one would expect, and he probably would have found it fine. Vice Admiral Belo was the most upset about it, but not because she had any strong feelings about the man. He was the only other admiral besides her, and she was relying on him to help her do her job well. Halan was meant to help with that, but she can’t rightly go asking him for advice while he’s in hock. Even if he does get out one day, it’s extremely unlikely that he’ll get his rank back. At best, he’ll be thrown in with the fringes of society. No, Olindse is going to have to figure things out on her own. She took over Thatch’s office when he died, even though she was assigned her own. He had terrible organizational skills, but she thought she might find some key information somewhere in the mess. It didn’t matter. Captain Kaiora Leithe was doing great on her own, and never asked Olindse for any advice. While the latter was captain for longer so far, there was a reason they chose her as interim, and not as a permanent replacement.

Olindse is currently sitting in her office, doing nothing, and waiting for her lunch date to arrive. He’s unusually late.

“Sorry, sorry, sorry,” Yitro says as he steps in. He sets the food tray on the desk. “The Captain wanted to speak to me.”

“She’s speaking to you?” Olindse questions. “She wants your advice?”

Yitro is aware that it’s a sensitive subject. “Oh, no, no, no. She just wanted to offer me a job.” Since his shift ended, he’s had nothing to do. Unlike a former captain, a former lieutenant is meant to just kind of return to civilian life. They’re free to select a new occupation, if they want, or they can just retire and relax. They generally retain some privileges, like access to the crew mess hall, but it’s unclear if they’re allowed to join the crew in some other capacity.

She looks disgusted. “How’s that now?”

“Yeah, she wants me to command The Perran Thatch.” The Thatch is a new vessel that’s actually a combination of two preexisting ships. When Ovan Teleres tried to take over Extremus, Admiral Thatch heroically transported the bridge to the future, where they coincidentally ran into the time shuttle that Omega and Valencia were using to investigate what they would come to learn was the Feizi problem. Engineers have since integrated them together into a new ship, so it can go off on tangent missions without disrupting the Extremus’ flight path.

“You? They asked you?”

“Olindse,” Yitro began to argue, “you already have a job, and a lifetime rank. Captain Leithe couldn’t have asked you. It doesn’t mean I’m better than you. It’s more that I’m available.”

“I thought Valencia was Captain.”

“Not really, she was just the best of two options. She and Omega will have more than enough work to do without having to worry about the ship itself.”

“So now there are two captains on this ship, and neither one of them is me. I feel...” She couldn’t come up with a word that didn’t make her sound like an asshole.

“Cheated?” Yitro offers.

“That’s so stupid.”

“It’s not. It’s a perfectly legitimate response to your situation. Captain Yenant served in his role during what was basically wartime. We didn’t know it back then, but it’s the best description for it in hindsight. You know, you were there; you were also a wartime leader. Kaiora isn’t like that. We’ve been on this ship so long, everyone knows what they’re supposed to do. There isn’t a lot of conflict.”

“What exactly is your point?” Olindse urged.

“The Captain isn’t asking for your advice, because she doesn’t need any, not because she doesn’t respect your opinion.”

“Great. How does that help my situation? What am I supposed to do?”

“Find a way to make yourself useful, like Thatch did when he took over the lights.”

“That trick won’t work a second time,” she contends. “Now everyone knows how powerful that workstation was, and they’ve reengineered it to get rid of all those secret subroutines.”

“I mean, something like that,” he tries to clarify. “The admiralty has no job description. Unless otherwise specified or vetoed by the current captain, you’re free to make up your own responsibilities. Be proactive. Find a cause, or a void.”

“What, like starting a health program in the rec room?”

“Sure, why not, if that’s your thing?”

“I was being sarcastic.”

“You’re some whose food’s getting cold.”

She had been listlessly playing with her salad, flipping most of the lettuce off of her plate without realizing it. She placed a tomato on her fork, and flicked it, hoping to hit Yitro in the face. He caught it in his mouth, and played it off like it wasn’t totally a happy accident. “I don’t know...” Olindse says unenthusiastically. “When do you ship out?” she asks, changing the subject slightly.

He certainly takes his time answering. “Tonight.”

“Tonight?” she questions. “The Captain asked you to command a new mission the day that it begins?”

He waits so long this time that he doesn’t even end up answering.

“You’ve known about this for a long time,” she’s realized.

“I didn’t know how to tell you.”

She stands up. “Well, I’m glad you finally figured out how to vocalize thoughts with your mouth. I wouldn’t have wanted you to try to captain a ship before you learned toddler-level communication skills.”

“Olindse...” he says with no clue how to form the rest of the sentence.

She begins to walk around her desk.

“Don’t leave.”

“You’re right, this is my office. Thanks for lunch, get the hell out of here.” Without giving him a chance to leave on his own, she shoots him with a teleporter gun, and sends him back to his own stateroom. It’s an abuse of power, and a punishable offense, but they both know he won’t report her. She sits back down and reaches over to eat the rest of his food. It’s the least he can do for her.

 A couple of hours later, Olindse reluctantly but dutifully requests permission to enter the bridge. It’s fuller than usual. The crew of the tangent ship Thatch is preparing to take their leave. They’ll take it into the past, because that’s the only way they’re going to make it all the way to their destination in time. Destination is a bit of a strong word, however. Project Stargate utilizes a highly modular ship. It was gigantic when it was first constructed, but has been slowly losing parts of itself as smaller ships fly off to reach the star systems on its way. By now, they wouldn’t be looking for one ship, but thousands of them, spread out for maximum efficiency. It would be foolish to send two modules to two stars right next to each other. It makes much more sense for one to land amongst a group of several to a couple dozen star systems, and build a new mini-fleet from there. The True Extremists want to stop the vonearthans from spreading beyond the stellar neighborhood, so every one of the modules is a threat to them. They have the numbers that Yitro’s team does not. Nonlinear time may be the only weapon in their arsenal.

“You came,” Yitro points out the obvious. He’s separated himself from the group photos, annoying their photographer, September.

“You’re my only friend. I can’t let our last interaction be the last,” Olindse says.

“I’ll be back,” he assures her.

“You can’t promise that,” she warns.

“Trust me.”

“When you do, will you be, like, thirty years older?” she asks.

“It would be closer to fifty,” he explains. It took them 25 years to get here from Gatewood, which means it would take just as long to get back. They were traveling at maximum speed. “The technology we will be using is unlike anything we ever have before, and it’s classified. As a captain in my own right, I’m afforded some level of discretion even against Leithe’s eyes. I would tell you, but...”

“I get it. I’m proud of you, Yitro—I mean, Captain Moralez.”

“I’ll always be Yitro to you,” he corrects her.

“Could we get back to it?” September requests. “I need one of just the two captains, and then just the Captain of the Thatch alone.”

“How about three captains first?” Yitro says in the form of a question, even though it isn’t. Halan was never referred to as a captain after he was promoted to admiral, and the practice will probably continue to be rare, but technically it’s not like other ranks. A Senior Hospitality Officer who was once a Junior Hospitality Officer isn’t still considered a Junior, but once a captain, always a captain. It’s more like how a mother who becomes a grandmother is still a mother. Olindse Belo is still a captain, and as such, it’s acceptable to address her as such. Again, it won’t likely become common practice, but most won’t bat an eye if someone uses it, unless doing so creates ambiguity.

September bows graciously, and invites them over to the wall. The rest of the crew steps aside.

“You know we won’t be able to show anyone these photos?” Kaiora asks through her smile. It’s fake, but only because she hates photos, not the company.

“One day, this will all be a matter of historical record,” September believes.

“What does one day mean when time travel is involved?” Omega poses.

September reaches down her shirt, and retrieves a metal necklace of some kind. She removes them from her neck, and ceremoniously dangles them between her and Yitro. “If you’re wearing this, nothing you do can be undone unless you want to leave the timeline fluid.” When Yitro reaches out to take the necklace, she pulls it back. “This is one of the most powerful tools in histories. It’s usually used as a weapon. I’m trusting you to use it wisely.”

“Where did you get something like that?” Kaiora asks.

After September lets Yitro take the necklace, she snaps one more photo, this time of only him and Olindse. “Aw, that’s a good one. Hashtag-best friends.”

“Who are you again?” Kaiora presses. She never chose to memorize the entire ship’s manifest, like Halan did in her position.

September ignores her, and addresses Omega. “Number 83, does that mean anything to you?”

“Uhh...no?” Omega questions, confused.

“If you had your own number—one that uniquely defined you—what would it be?” September asks like a primary school teacher.

Omega frowns, and peers back at her with his face turned towards her flank.

September winks at him. “Happy hunting,” she says to the lot. She looks down at the preview screen on her camera, scrolls to a different image, and then disappears. Someone like that shouldn’t have been granted access to a teleporter, and anyway, they didn’t see her use one.

“I think I know who that was,” Valencia reveals without elaborating.

“Have you given any thought to what you might want to do?” Yitro asks Olindse, shaking off the strange conversation with the stranger, and tucking the necklace into his uniform.

“Yeah, I believe I have an idea,” Olindse answers.

“What is it?”

“I think I’ll call it...reintegration.”

Yitro smiles like he knows what she means by this. He may indeed.

After some salutes and farewells, the tangent crew enters the Perran Thatch Detachment Ship, and launches into their secret mission.

“What is this about reintegration?” Captain Leithe asks Olindse.

“It’s something that I’ve just come up with today,” Olindse answers. “Let me work on it in private, and then I’ll get back to you before I actually do anything.”

“Sounds reasonable,” Kaiora says, sitting back down in her seat. “Plot a course to Extremus. And...engage,” she orders the bridge crew.

They all look over at her, very confused. “Sir?” one of them asks.

“I’m kidding,” she defends. “Just keep going forward...and try to lighten up.”

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Microstory 1582: Woman in a Cave

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Prompt

I enter the cave, and find...

Botner

...a woman, sitting on a bed. She watches me with a bored look on her face, and moves a little away from me. I ask, “is this you?” She nods yes. I want to sit down next to her, but something tells me not to. So I say, “it’s me, Celeste.” I say, “is this your cave?” She says, “yeah.” I ask her, “is that your cave?” She nods yes. I ask, “is this your body?” She says, “yeah.” I try to sit down next to her, but I’m not strong enough. So I say, “is this your dead husband?” She nods yes, and holds up her dead husband’s cane. I ask, “is that your dog?” She nods yes. I ask, “is this your cat?” She nods yes. I ask, “is this your pony?” She nods yes. I ask, “is that you?” She nods yes. I try to get near enough to kiss her, but can’t. I know how hard it is for a TOTALLY BOY to kiss a GIRL. (That’s how I refer to myself to my own friends). I can get just about ANYTHING ELSE done, much to Celeste’s chagrin, but kissing is the one thing that I just can’t manage. So I back off a little. She...

Conclusion

...getting a little antsy, so I put the photograph of her and her family away, and sit against the opposite wall, so I don’t make her feel uncomfortable. I take outmy notebook, and start going back over the information I’ve gathered about this place. Legend has it that you can bring your loved ones back to life if you bring their body in here. I nev er truly believed it, but I had to hold out hope that I could one day see my son again. I’m willing to try anything, except for sacrificing someone else’s life for him. I found a cult in Alps that claimed they could do it, but someone else would have to take his place in the afterlife, and neither he nor I would want that. I’ve been studying this cave when I have time for the last seven months, and Celeste is the only one who’s ever been brought back. Others have come, and met nothing but failure and disappointment, so I have to figure out what is different about this one person. Once I feel like she’s ready, I start asking her for more information. It’s not all that easy, because she’s only willing to answer yes/no questions. As it turns out, she can’t ever leave the cave, or she’ll die all over again. Her family comes once a week to check on her, which I find quite strange. If this works with my son, then I’ll find a way to live here with him. I’ll never leave his side as long as he’s back. I decide to try it, because it’s my last hope, and if it doesn’t work, then I will have least done everything I could. I steal the body from the morgue, grateful to my friend who works there. He made sure no one tried to bury the remains, or anything. I take my boy back to the cave, and lay him down in the center. Only a few minutes later, he rises as if he had just woken up from a slightly jarring dream. For a week or so, we’re happy, but then he starts becoming more like Celeste. He loses his ability to carry on a normal conversation, all the way to the point where he can only say yes or no. Still, he’s back, and he understands me, so I stay, and we stay together. A few weeks later, though, things start to get worse. I too can only comprehend true or false now, and if I could, I would ask myself, “is this really living?”

The Advancement of Mateo Matic: Sunday, July 3, 2118

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Mateo wasn’t sure how they could go about saving Vearden’s life. When it came to time travel, there appeared to be no shortage of possibilities, but a lot of them were out of the question. The obvious answer would be to simply go to that moment in time, and rescue him before that animal could trample him. But Jupiter said they couldn’t do it that way. As far as everyone knew, Vearden Haywood died on Tribulation Island on July 10, 2125. Perhaps they could try to use an extraction mirror, but that couldn’t alter his fate, only delay it. He wasn’t ageless either, so he would have to go fulfill his own death sooner rather than later. There had to be a way, though. As Mateo was pondering this the next day, the answer seemed to fall into his lap.

After making sure Xearea Voss was fully recovered, they went back to Tribulation Island together, so she could move into the fancy resort there. While they were on the mainland, Leona and their friends had spent that time getting to know Aldona’s family a little bit better. It was more awkward being around some of these people more than others. Marcy, for one thing, was a good friend from the future, but she wouldn’t be heading back to the main sequence for another sixteen years, and she had not met any of them yet. It was unclear whether they could tell her about that, because they still didn’t know if their memories of the Parallel were going to be erased, or if they just kept their time here a secret. The weirdest thing was interacting with Aldona’s brother, Nestor. Out of everyone during Arcadia’s expiations, he was the only person whose challenge they failed. What did all this mean about how he would survive that failure?

Right now, they were just coming back from a particularly grueling hike to clear their heads. The Buchanan-Lanka-Calligaris family requested someone take a photo of them together, to commemorate their accomplishment. As soon as Mateo pressed the button, he felt a gust of warm wind behind his back. Four people had just appeared there. He recognized all of them: Trinity, Ellie, Thor, and Abigail.

“Guys...” Abigail began mysteriously. “Where are we?”

“This is highly irregular,” Mateo said to them. “The way I understood it, there would not be a transition today. To answer your question, though, you’re in what we call the Parallel. It’s an alternate reality that is not an alternate timeline. It runs...parallel.”

“What year is it?” Trinity asked.

“It’s Sunday, July 3, 2118,” Sanaa answered.

“What year for you?” Leona asked back.

“Twenty-four hundred,” Ellie replied. “I can’t tell you how we got here, but it had nothing to do with this transition of which you spake.”

“Do you need us for something?” Mateo asked. “All of us? One of us?”

“We were just looking for a quiet place. We didn’t mean to interrupt,” Trinity said.

“Of course you’re not interrupting. This is a safe space.”

“It is?” Abigail questioned. Is this Haven?”

“No,” Leona responded, “but it’s close. The powers that be can’t get to us here, due to a loophole. Haven is in another universe, which they also can’t control, but is also more difficult to access.”

This was Mateo’s chance to get the ball rolling on this saving Vearden thing. It was the perfect opportunity to get a word in with Ellie without creating suspicion. He had not yet said anything to the others about Jupiter’s latest assignment. He wasn’t planning on keeping it a secret forever, but the lie he told about there just not being anyone for them to rescue for the next few years didn’t sound crazy. In fact, it wasn’t crazy at all, because that was exactly what Jupiter said was going to happen. Mateo just didn’t want to burden them with the ultimatum yet. They were at a relaxing resort, and enjoying it too much to let him ruin it. “If you need a spot to have a sensitive conversation, I know the perfect getaway.”

Leona was a little suspicious, but she bit her tongue.

Ellie caught his drift. “That would be lovely.”

“I’ll take them to Lorania, and catch up with you guys later. Love ya, bye.” He kissed his wife, then walked away before she could think of any reasonable questions to ask. The rest followed.

They didn’t say anything on the short helicopter ride over to the other island. It could have been bugged for all they knew. Sure, invisible nanobots could be following them around anyway, but this was their best option. “I need to talk to you guys, but I’m not sure who should go first. Do you want me to leave and come back, err...?”

“We’ll talk about your thing first,” Thor promised, “since you’re on a time limit.”

“No, he’s not anymore, remember?” Trinity asked.

“He is, though, aren’t you, Matty?” Thor pointed to Mateo’s Cassidy cuffs.

“I’m on a different pattern, but I still only have a day,” Mateo confirmed.

“What can we do ya for?” Ellie prompted.

“I need you to do that voodoo that you do.”

“You need to send a message?” she figured, or maybe she just hoped that was all he needed.

“I need you to save someone’s life, in the same way that you did me.”

“You want me to transfer someone’s consciousness to a clone body?”

Mateo thought over it for a few seconds. “I guess it doesn’t have to be a clone. It doesn’t matter, we just have to rescue him without anyone knowing that we did.”

“What’s he gonna do once you rescue him?” Thor pressed. “How will people not know he survived?”

“I suspect he’ll have to stay here,” Mateo conceded. “Few people seem to know this reality exists, even though it literally always has.”

“He’ll be okay with that?” Trinity continued. “Who are we talking about?”

“Vearden,” Mateo answered, “so yeah, I think he’ll understand.”

“Is this a riddle?” Thor asked, just as acerbically as always.

“No,” Abigail said with a cute smile. “It’s a challenge. I’ve heard stories about what you’ve been through. People keep giving you tasks to complete that are half-arbitrary, half-necessary.”

“That’s right,” Mateo verified.

“Who?” Trinity asked, concerned.

“Don’t worry about it. I’m not trying to quit. I wanna complete these challenges; especially this one.” Mateo directed his attention back to Ellie. “Can you do it?”

She thought his request over for a moment, not because she wasn’t sure if she could handle it, but because she didn’t know if she should. “It’s not that I can’t, or that I think I shouldn’t. I’m just not sure that I have to,” she answered cryptically.

“That’s why we came here in the first place,” Abigail started to explain. “We’re working on quite undeniably the largest endeavor in the history of humankind. The plan is to use Ellie’s power to save everyone’s life for the last seventy-four hundred years.”

Mateo looked to each of them one by one, and then back again a couple times. “Oh, I’ve seen that done before,” he told them, sadly unimpressed with their proposal.

“What? What are you talking about?” Ellie asked.

“Yeah,” Mateo went on. “That’s what this reality is. No one has died in thousands of years, perhaps even for longer than you plan on doing your plan.”

The four of them exchanged looks, and possibly telepathic words. Ellie opened the conversation back up before too long. “This is a world where nobody dies. Ours is a world where they survive death. And we won’t bring them back until later. Same same, but different.”

“Hey, man, I don’t mean to offend,” Mateo apologized. “I’m down for it. I just don’t know if it applies to Vearden’s sitchi’ation. Jupiter wants to save him in a week, not in the future.”

“Future, past, present, what does it matter?” Thor asked rhetorically.

“Good point,” Mateo responded. “Where are you gonna put all these people, though? I’m terribly curious now.”

“It’s Abigail’s job to come up with that,” Thor said, inviting her to speak.

“Oh, right. Well, do you wanna hear it?”

They all said yes and yeah and please and absolutely in unison.

“Okay.” Abigail was nervous. “So, Mohandas Gandhi and Orville Wright both died on January 30, 1948, right? So, what we do when that happens is insert their respective consciousnesses into the virtual simulation at around the same time. We can even time it to the minute, if we want. All the other people who died on that day are also waking back up at the same time. Meanwhile, the people who died on January 29 woke up the day before, and the people who died on January 31 will wake up the day after. The afterlife will operate in realtime, just centuries later. What they do with their simulation is up to them, but there will be new rules, like that they can’t die again. Hopefully that will stop them from, ya know...trying to kill each other. So when this Varden guy—”

“Vearden,” Mateo and Trinity corrected in unison.

“Right. So he’ll wake up in the simulation in...you said it was 2125?”

“July 10,” Mateo repeated.

“So he’ll wake up in the year ninety-eight hundred. Ooo, that seems long. Maybe we don’t do that. Maybe the simulation operates much faster.”

“Or it operates in realtime, like you said, but also at the same time,” Thor offered. “Maybe we all go back in time, and secretly set up shop around some other star system.”

“These are all really great ideas,” Ellie began, “and it’s going to take a lot of work to figure out the details. Something may go wrong before we do, and if we die before trying to save Mr. Haywood, it won’t help him. So let’s put the whole plan on the back burner, and focus on trying to bring back this one person. If we can’t do this, we won’t be good enough to do it for the whole species anyway. The three of you will have seven years to get me a clone body.”

“What are you going to do?” Trinity asked her, very confused.

Ellie gestured towards Mateo’s wrists. “Tell me how those devices work. Do you have an extra set?”

“Why would you do that?” Trinity maintained her wariness.

“I have my reasons,” Ellie replied.

Trinity wasn’t satisfied with that explanation, or lack thereof. “Ellie.”

Ellie’s voice came into Mateo’s ear, “Mateo, don’t react to what I’m saying right now.” No one else seemed to have heard that. “There are some things I just can’t tell you,” Ellie said out loud for everyone else to hear. “I need you to convince these people that I’m supposed to wear one of your cuffs.” She kept trying to alleviate her friend’s confusion, while having this secret conversation with Mateo that only he could hear, and while she wasn’t moving her lips, like a ventriloquist. “I noticed that The Escapologist is in your group. I need to borrow her power, just for a little bit. I promise I won’t abuse it. They’re not looking at you, you can reply to me without them hearing. Just do it like you did during your wedding.”

Mateo didn’t need to continue the conversation. If Ellie Underhill wanted something, she kind of deserved it. She had never given him any reason to doubt or deny her. “She’s right,” he said out loud. “I didn’t wanna say anything, but it is no coincidence that she’s here. She’s a part of this. She has to put on the cuffs. Saving Vearden isn’t the only thing we need from her.”

Just like Mateo knew he could trust Ellie, Trinity knew she could trust Mateo. “Fine. I will concede to this, but only because of Leona’s Rules of Time Travel, Number Twelve.” Don’t learn too much about your future.

It wasn’t going to be that easy, though. All of the cuffs were currently in use. If Ellie wanted in on this, someone would have to be released from the pattern. Fortunately, Mateo had a pretty good idea who that should be. J.B. had always wanted to know what it was like to not be on a salmon pattern. He would surely agree to step off it temporarily, just to see what tomorrow looked like. Only then would Mateo worry about exactly what Ariadna’s time power was, and what Ellie wanted with it.

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Microstory 1360: Talent

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Talent Agent: Miss Influencer, it’s very nice to meet you. My daughter loves your stuff—loves it.

Influencer: Well, that’s great. Send her my regards.

Talent Agent: Wonderful, wonderful. Now, it says here that you’re a social media influencer. What exactly does that mean?

Influencer: Well, companies send me samples of their products, and pay me to advertise those products on my social media profiles. I’m particularly popular on Photogander.

Talent Agent: That’s the apps that turns movies into still pictures, or sumthin’?

Influencer: Sort of. You can move the camera around an object, and it will stitch together a 3D tour-like photo of that object. Users can then turn the object around, to see what it looks like from other angles. Other photo-sharing services focus on selfies, but this is better for objects, since it’s kind of difficult to move the camera around your own body, and remain in the same position. Of course, I’m sometimes in the shot myself, which is why I have a partner take the pictures for me.

Talent Agent: And you like the products you advertise?

Influencer: Sometimes.

Talent Agent: Well, isn’t that a bit dishonest? I mean, don’t your fans—

Influencer: Gagglers. They’re called gagglers on the site. And they give you honks when they like a photo.

Talent Agent: Whatever. So when your gagglers see you’ve promoted a product, theoretically they go out and buy it. But if you don’t even believe in the product, you’re just lying.

Influencer: I never said I didn’t believe in them. I support everything I advertise. I would never promote cigarettes or vaping paraphernalia, for instance. I just don’t always love them. Sometimes there’s an alternative I prefer, but if they haven’t hired me, I don’t post it on my business account. It’s just like acting in a commercial. No one expects the actor to have any strong feelings about dish soap, but they pretend to for the role. That’s fine.

Talent Agent: Yeah, I guess I get it. So look, I can make you a star, but you gotta do what I say. We’re a special kind of agency here. We’re only lookin’ for the best, but that don’t mean everyone’s ready. If you’ve never had any experience, then we gotta make you ready. We have a class you can take. It’s four hundred dollars per session for five sessions, but I promise it’s worth it. If these follower—I’m sorry; gaggler—numbers are any indication, two thousand dollars probably won’t be a problem.

Influencer: Well, I have taken some acting classes, and I’ve participated in live appearances, where I’ve been told I have good presence.

Talent Agent: Eh, yeah, but this is a special thing. We really want you to go through the class, so we know what we got. We gotta be able to tell the casting directors you know what you’re doin’.

Influencer: Uh, give me one second. I just need to look something up.

Talent Agent: Okay, sure.

Influencer: Yeah, the internet says don’t accept help from a talent agent who asks you to take a class. Like, it specifically mentions that it’s probably a scam. It warns readers that a scammer will claim it has more to do with evaluating your skills, so they can talk you up with casting directors.

Talent Agent: Ah, you can’t believe everything you find on the internet. I mean, just look at you! You say you love dish soap, but apparently that’s just a photo.

Influencer: Right, but I don’t make false claims about what the products do. I don’t try to convince my gagglers the soap will give them superpowers, or make them more attractive. Everything I say about the product is a hundred percent true.

Talent Agent: Well, it sounds like a gray area to me. I’ll tell you what, since we already know you have fans, and they’ll be wanting to see what you do, I’ll give you half off the class? How’s that sound? Influencing ain’t acting, but I believe you on the thing about your presence. You lit up the room when you walked in. Half off is best I can do.

Influencer: Nah, I think I better go look for someone else. Even if this is a legit operation, it’s not worth the risk, and it’s not like you have a monopoly on the industry.

Talent Agent: Well, I can’t make you stay, but we make stars, so I think you’ll be happy here.

Influencer: I’m okay. Thanks for the interview, though.

Talent Agent: Yeah, yeah, yeah. Hey, wait. Can my daughter get your autograph?

Influencer: I better not. Just get one of your stars to do it instead. I’m sure they’re all much bigger than me. Have a nice day.

Firestorm: Orson Olsen (Part V)

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Two years ago, I witnessed a miracle. Well, there were actually three miracles in one day. I watched a girl appear out of nowhere, standing on a stump in my yard. Her arms were stretched wide, and a halo shined from above her head. Hours later, I ran into that girl again, though she did not seem to know who I was. I watched her disappear again, and realized she was a time traveler, who needed my help to save her friends. I saw my angel a third time later that day, and before she disappeared one last time, she gave me a mandate. I am to worship time. That is the one true God, and I’m embarrassed I didn’t realize it before. I used to follow an imaginary flying spaghetti monster, because I was indoctrinated into it from birth. But now I see the truth. Time is real; it’s abstract, and impossible to hold in your hand, which makes it magnificent, but it undeniably exists. If that’s not God, then God cannot exist.

I realized I had to spread the word. Most of my brothers and sisters in the church would not be swayed. They did not witness the Trinity Miracle, like I did. There were others, however, that I knew I would be able to convince. My mother was always worried people would leave the church, and she taught me to spot these people, so I could help bring them back from the brink of damnation. No matter what I did, though, they retained their doubts; they just learned to hide it better. Fortunately, my memory is totally fine, so I had this excellent list of people who would be willing to hear the true word. I started out slowly—very slowly. I knew that my best friend would believe me without question. It was he who discovered a magician in the area who might be what we were looking for. He was right. This guy had real powers to move things from one hand to the other. They weren’t very impressive, but they were enough to convince my church’s doubters. I brought them to the shows one by one, never giving away that we knew each other. They saw for themselves that time travel was real, and our movement grew. This was not the magician’s only purpose. I knew he would know others like him, so we watched him for weeks, like secret agents. He ate at the same restaurant almost every single day, and every time he showed up, he was surprised, as if the restaurant was attracting him against his will.

My friend and I realized the restaurant was more special than the man, so we switched gears, and started to investigate them instead. Through a complex series of timing the employees, and watching certain customers being led through the kitchen, we determined there was a whole world in the back we couldn’t see from here. We started watching the whole building, and could tell that there were some strange goingson that people like us weren’t allowed to see. We have to see the miracles, though. My people deserve the truth, and I am the only one who can show it to them. I’ve been coming here ever since, waiting for someone in there to notice, and here he comes. My plan has worked. I’m about to be read in.

“Detective Bran,” the man says, showing me his badge. It’s not the first FBI agent I’ve met, but that’s a different story. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m sorry, have I been loitering?”

“What are you writing in there, your manifesto?” he asks me.

My notebook. “Oh, heavens no. This is the good book.”

“You’re rewriting the bible?”

“I’m writing the real bible.”

“Hmm,” is all he can say.

“What are your abilities?” I’m pretty good at playing it cool, but I can tell there’s something different about this guy. Security has been coming by nearly every day to get me to leave, but they’re just regular people. I can smell the power coming off of him. Perhaps I’m one of them. Perhaps my ability is to sense other abilities.

“Well, I’m a good marksman, and a halfway decent investigator. My true strength lies in getting people to leave.”

“Please. You don’t have to lie to me. I don’t know exactly what you are, but I know that you’re special. I’m not going to hurt you. Just...read me in. Show me the light. I am..open.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Agent Bran says. “This is private property, and it is time for you to leave.”

“I’ll leave, if you let me in...just once. Let me see what’s really in there—no illusions—and I’ll never bother you again.”

“Sir, this is a secure facility. I cannot let you in.”

“You think I’m going to believe that this is nothing more than a CIA blacksite? I’m not stupid. I saw through the windows. Dozens of people ran into that unit, right there.” I point to some kind of club. I never got a good look at the sign, so that’s the only word I could make out. “A minute later, they all came out. They looked different. I have a really good memory, and an eye for faces. People were wearing different clothes, and none of them looked like they had just ran inside, and came back out. Something happened in there, and I demand to know what it was.”

“It’s all right, Agent.” She’s come. She’s come to show me the light again.

“Paige, get back inside,” Agent Bran orders. “Who is he to talk to an angel like that?”

“Angel Paige,” I utter. “You’ve returned.”

“I have,” she says to me. “You wanna see the light. Then let’s go take a look. Let’s go back to the beginning, or near it, anyway.” She takes out her phone. “You ever been to New York?”

“Paige, don’t do this,” Bran pleads.

“The cat’s out of the bag,” she explains to him. “We can’t put it back, but we can domesticate it.” She shows me a picture of a house on a hill. It’s black and white and yellow, but I think the yellow is probably just because it’s really old. The edges are damaged, as if melted, but again, that’s probably due to the ravages of time. This is a very old photograph. “How about New York 1848?”

“Paige, no!” cries another voice, but I never get a chance to see who it is.

She takes me by the arm, and whisks me away. In seconds, we’re standing at the bottom of the hill in the photograph. For a second, a part of me wonders why it’s not still in black and white, but of course, that would be stupid. We’ve just traveled into the past. The angel has given me such an amazing gift. “Let’s take a walk.”

We walk along the fence for a few minutes as I patiently wait for her to say something else. I am in the presence of divinity, but I know she will be turned off if I act too enthusiastic about it. I just keep thinking about how incredible it is to be here, and how much she must trust me to show me this.

“Orson—can I call you Orson?”

“You can call me whatever you want, Angel Paige.”

“I’ll call you Orson, and you can just call me Paige, because I’m not an angel, and I think you know that.”

“Anything you want...Paige.”

“When we met, I was young, and still getting a handle on my abilities. I was desperate to help my friends, and that made me reckless. I showed you something that you were never meant to see. There are people in this world, and other worlds, with time powers. It’s not illegal for us to tell one or two people what we can do. We have to be able to trust our families, and our closest friends. It is a problem, however, if word spreads. So my question to you is, who the fuck do you think you are?”

“I’m sorry?”

“Do you need me to repeat myself? You’re just some random mormon who got a peek at something that wasn’t for him. What gives you the right to run around, showing a bunch of people magic tricks, and telling them what to worship? Do you think we want that? Do you think we want you exposing us? Do you think, maybe, there are consequences to this sort of thing? Do you think it’s possible that somebody built a prison, stuffed my best friend in it, and left her there to rot for a year? You can’t just go upending everything we’ve done to protect ourselves from the general public. Because you don’t matter, and it isn’t fair for you to assume all this responsibility.”

“I’m sorry, I meant no disrespect. You told me to worship time.”

“That was an off-handed comment. It wasn’t a real command. Jesus Christ.”

I don’t know what to say.

She takes a deep breath before continuing. “This prison isn’t designed for criminals. It’s only there to house those who risk outting us to the world. If you don’t stop what you’re doing, we’ll all go there, including you. You’re human, which affords you some special consideration, but that will only take you so far. If your cult gets any bigger, they’re gonna step in. I’m surprised they let it get this big.”

“I don’t know how to do that,” I say to her honestly. “It’s grown beyond my control. People saw the truth. They saw that magician.”

“People see magicians all the time, they don’t start worshiping them.”

“We don’t worship Delmar Dupont. He’s a lesser god, at best.”

“You need to explain to your flock that you were wrong. You need to get them to believe that...they shouldn’t believe.”

“That sounds impossible. I mean, I already pulled them from a church. Now you want me to tell them to go back? They would see right through that.”

“You’re the only one who saw what I could do, right?”

“Yes.”

“You’re the only one who saw people run into Salmonday Club too.”

“Is that what it’s called? Yes, I was the only one there at the time. Like I was saying, though, the magician was enough. They watched carefully, and they listen to me.”

“They listen to you?”

“That’s not really what I mean,” I start to clarify. “They listened in the beginning, because they saw proof, and they needed an excuse to leave the church. That’s not gonna work a second time. I can reinforce what I’ve already told them, and they’ll still listen, but I can’t contradict myself.”

We keep walking as she thinks this over. “Why do they listen to you? Why did they agree to go to the magic show?”

“Magic doesn’t go against the church, because most of it is just sleight of hand and misdirection. They only started believing after what they saw, and because I told them it was real. We can’t undo that.”

“That’s the key, though. You told them it was real. They could have just as easily happened upon the venue, watched it on their own, and assumed it was an illusion, just like most people do.”

“Yeah, I guess.” I’m not sure where she’s going with this.

“If they stop believing in you, then they’ll stop believing in him, and if they don’t believe in him, then they don’t believe in time magic at all.”

“How would they stop believing in me?” I question.

“We have to discredit you.”

“What are you gonna do, like, doctor photos of me in bed with a man, or something? It’s 2027, they won’t like that, but it’s not enough anymore. I mean, it would be one thing if I preached sexual purity, but I don’t even mention that in my sermons. Their hang-ups would all be carryovers from their old lives.”

“No, I wouldn’t wanna do that anyway.”

Now I’m scared. I wouldn’t love that idea, but I would do it for her, even though I’m not gay. I’m afraid she’s about to suggest something really bad. “So...”

“It’s really bad, you’re not gonna like it.”

I suck it up in my own head, and say, “I’ll do anything for you.”

“That’s the problem, it can’t be you. At least, I don’t think it can. How long were you a member of that church in Independence?”

“I was part of Independence Temple my whole life, until you. Why?”

“That’s what I was worried about. I need the name of the newest member of your church who is also now a member of your...cult?”

“We don’t like that word, but...”

“But who?”

“But there’s no one. There’s no one like that.”

“Damn. If we had someone like that, we could discredit them instead. Bran could barge into your worshiphouse, and arrest him for fraud in three states, or something like that. Then we could convince them that he was the one in control of everything.”

“That’s terrible, Paige.” I guess she really isn’t an angel.

“I know. It was just my first idea.”

I sigh. “Well, you’re a time traveler, right?”

“Yes.”

“Then let’s undo it. Take me back to 2025. Change the past. That’s possible, isn’t it?”

“I’ve seen it done, yes.”

“Okay. I’m ready.”

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Microstory 1335: Debut

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Entertainment Interviewer: Is this your first interview?

Film Student: My first real interview, yes. I’ve been in the school newspaper a time or two.

Entertainment Interviewer: Well, I bet you’re pretty excited, aren’t you?

Film Student: Yes, I feel very fortunate to have been given this opportunity. I haven’t even started working yet, and Sterling Serials has already been so good to me. They assure me they’re not just going to throw me in the deep end, and expect me to fend for myself.

Entertainment Interviewer: I mean this interview. I bet you’re excited for the interview.

Film Student: Oh, uh, yeah. Yeah.

Entertainment Interviewer: Then I guess we ought to get started. First, tell me a little bit about yourself.

Film Student: Well, my name is Film Student. I’ve been a film student at Hillside University for three years now. I’ve always known that I wanted to be a director, so I picked my major right away. I did a little bit of stage acting in middle and high school, and some of my film and video classes required us to make short films, of course. I much prefer to be behind the camera, though. Other than that, I do some photography—mostly close-ups—which I consider to be more like motion pictures than most people do.

Entertainment Interviewer: Oh, that’s cool Very interesting. So, what was your first thought when you got the call that you won the contest?

Film Student: I know you expect me to say I was giddy, and I jumped up and down, or did a dance, but my aunt always taught me to act like I’ve been there, so I played it pretty cool. I wanted to sound professional right from the start.

Entertainment Interviewer: It says here they want you to direct the fourth episode of the third season of The Light of Day. When does filming begin?

Film Student: First of the month, next month. I’ve already seen a draft of the script, and I obviously can’t give anything away, but I can tell you that it’s really good. I’m honored to be working off the incredible talent from the writers room.

Entertainment Interviewer: What about the cast?

Film Student: I haven’t met any of the cast yet, but the internet tells me they’re all really nice, and down to Earth.

Entertainment Interviewer: What do you have to say to all the little girls out there who are being told they can’t make movies? What did you wish you had said when someone said that to you?

Film Student: Um, well...that never happened to me. No one’s ever told me that.

Entertainment Interviewer: I thought you said you always wanted to make movies. No one ever tried to tear you down when you were young?

Film Student: Umm...no? My family has always been very supportive. I was born into middle class, and my parents sacrificed a lot so I could have the things I wanted to be happy. They bought me multiple video cameras over the years so I could practice my skills.

Entertainment Interviewer: Right, but wasn’t there someone who mocked you about your dreams, or at least tried to tell you that you’ll have to work twice as hard to make it as a woman in the industry.

Film Student: I—I guess that sort of thing does happen. But I don’t have any personal experience with it. Like I said, my family was very supportive.

Entertainment Interviewer: Okay. That’s—good for you.

Film Student: Yeah, thanks.

Entertainment Interviewer: Well, what are things like now? How does it feel to be a woman in such a male-dominated field?

Film Student: I don’t know, man. It feels great to be here, but I don’t really give my gender much thought, and no one so far has given me the impression they give it much thought either.

Entertainment Interviewer: Oh.

Film Student: Except for you. You seem to be giving it a lot of thought.

Entertainment Interviewer: I just want to acknowledge that it’s harder—I suppose I don’t want to make a generalization—but different. It’s different for a woman. People have different expectations, and there’s a history. No matter what job you get, it’s just..different.

Film Student: I think it’s only different because people look at it differently. I appreciate you trying to acknowledge it, but be careful to not fall into a trap while you’re at it. If we put less pressure on gender, we probably wouldn’t notice it as much, which is the ultimate goal here. I mean, think about when Clinton II became president. All anyone talked about was how she was the first female president of the United States. That’s great and all, but if a woman was the second president overall, immediately after Washington, we wouldn’t be singing her praises. I mean, maybe we would; it depends on who this hypothetical person was. My point is that it’s only a big deal because we make it a big deal. But I’m not impressed with Hillary Clinton because she’s a woman. I’m impressed with her because she’s a strong leader, and has a great deal of foreign policy experience. I don’t want to keep hearing about the first woman this, and the first black man that. We should be striving for a world where no one notices such things, because they’re totally normal. I don’t wanna be a female director. I just wanna be a director.

Entertainment Interviewer: Great. Well, that’s all the time we have today. Thanks for stopping by.

Microstory 1042: Hattie

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I’m glad you and I can finally meet. While you work for the paper, I work for the yearbook, so the two of us are kind of born rivals, aren’t we? Both programs used to fall under the same department, headed by the journalism teacher, but the school decided to separate them, for no reason—or just to make things different, I guess. Or maybe they wanted us to have to operate out of the library, while you get an entire room. And they gave me the crappiest camera to work with. See? This is what they forced on me, look how blurry that is. I ended up just using my own. Back to your questions, though, I had lots of encounters with Viola, but I’m not sure any one of them really stands out to me. I suppose I saw her more often than she saw me. I spend a lot of time walking around with my invisibility camera, taking pictures of other people without them realizing I’m even there. I first noticed my power to get close to people without being noticed when I was a child. My parents are huge partiers, at places unfit for a child. You would think an eight-year-old girl would stand out, but I was able to walk around without anybody paying me any mind. My friend, Mollie would later tell me all those adults were on drugs, but that doesn’t explain why I can be so sneaky around school. If I were to lay out every photo I and my team took of any one person, I could probably piece together almost their entire life story. I’ve already done most of that with Viola, at the request of Hope, but I haven’t had time to analyze the data. I can tell you that she was not a normal person. She was never in two places at once, or anything, but she was sure good at taking the shortest route from one place to another. Of course, people do that all the time, but she would sometimes show up with no logical reason, yet it was the perfect place for her. She could go from magic club, straight to Eugene’s locker, to leave him a note seconds before he got there. Then she could have a quick tutoring session with Raymond, and be at the pool hall with Finley by five. This may all just sound like a crazy schedule, but not supernatural, but like I said, I haven’t really looked at the pictures yet. I would be wildly interested in your finished interviews, though. The raw ones; not the truncated versions you’ll be releasing to the public. There was something about her; she knew things about people she shouldn’t, and she was able to help them in ways no one should have. I think you and I should collaborate, Alma. Don’t answer yet, just think about it. We’ll see each other tomorrow.