Microstory 2339: Earth, February 24, 2179

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Dear Corinthia,

Here’s a little bit of bad news. We’ve reached our destination to begin welcoming the new immigrants from their overcrowded dome. They’re not here quite yet, because we couldn’t have them waiting for us in limbo until we hit the shore, but they’re on their way as I’m writing this. That’s not the bad news, though. A consequence of this situation is that my dad won’t be able to send or receive any letters for a while. It’s a security thing, since he knows so much information about our new allies. Obviously, I know that he would never abuse his power, or put the population at risk, and no one seriously thinks that he would, but the moratorium is a necessary precaution just the same. I’m still okay. Even though I work in the office, I’m not privy to enough of the data, and am not considered a threat to security. I don’t know if you were hoping to hear from him again. I’m sure he’ll reach out once more when he’s allowed to, but we don’t know how long it will take. Such is the life of a diplomat. The good news is, of course, that we’re finally here in beautiful Australia. It took us a lot longer than we wanted, but as you’ve suspected, the platform doesn’t move all that fast. Plus, there were some tropical storms that we had to detour around. That reminds me, we have not talked about the strange weather we have here thanks to our toxic air that didn’t exist when we were young. The toxic cocktail in our atmosphere makes these events really dangerous. We end up with some bizarre localized particle densities and temperature fluctuations, which make the weather—not entirely unpredictable—but less so than it was just a couple decades ago. As you would imagine, they’re really bad for your health too, even after they’ve dissipated, more so than the air in the area is when it’s just at its regular level of toxicity. Fortunately, we knew what we were up against while we were on our way here, but the environment can change on a dime these days, and we may not be so lucky on our way back out into the open water. We typically stick to very specific regions and routes when we don’t have anywhere particular to be, like we are right now. I know that your atmosphere isn’t breathable, but with a celestial body as large as Vacuus is, you must experience weather of some kind. Could you tell me about that? Do you have emergency protocols, like lockdowns, or escapes into a basement? I guess I don’t even know where your habitat was built, if it’s in a lava tube, or a crater, or what.

Hoping you stay in range forever,

Condor

Microstory 2338: Vacuus, February 17, 2179

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Dear Condor,

I’m writing to you to let you know that I’m back online, and also that your father did finally send me a letter. I responded to it yesterday, so you probably already know everything by the time you receive this anyway. I don’t really think that I should say anything more; about what he said, or about what I said. I kind of want you two to have your own conversation without me being involved. That’s why I think I’m gonna cut this short. There’s nothing for me to report on this end. The stray Valkyrie blocked our signal for a week, then flew away. The rest of the Valkyries are still orbiting on their usual path. I suppose I shouldn’t say usual as changing course is sort of their whole thing. But we’re safe from them...for now. There’s a slight chance that they will veer off of the predicted orbit, and come at us all at once with a vengeance, but the astronomers are hopeful that this will not happen. I just wanted to warn you that it’s not impossible that any message could be our last. I’ll continue to respond with the non-automated read receipts, and only won’t if it becomes impossible.

Bored again,

Corinthia

Microstory 2337: Vacuus, February 16, 2179

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Dear Pascal,

Thank you for reaching out. I would say that it’s the first step towards mending our relationship. I’m sure that your son told you that I would be out of range for a period of time, so that’s why it’s taken me this long to respond. As for you and me, I can’t promise you what will become of us in the future, but I can promise that I’ll try. You’ll always be able to send me a message, and I’ll always open it. Condor and I kind of have a weekly thing going, but we don’t have to write as often, and I won’t hold it against you in terms of resolving our issues. That being said, there is no quick fix here. Forgiveness is a really strong word, and I’m afraid I’m going to need more time before I can even consider it. That may be all it takes. We could not talk to each other the whole time, but I may one day get over it just because it’s been long enough. We’ll have to see. I understand that you were in a difficult position, and having known my mother for 36 years, I don’t doubt that she forced her ideals on you. She has a way of making you live the kind of life that she wants you too. I’m not sure if it was about being vicarious, or if she just wanted control. I’ve always thought she only wanted what was best for me, but looking back now, it doesn’t really make much sense. I mean, if this was a social experiment to see how two twins grew up if they were raised separately, why did she try to make all my choices for me? It sort of taints the results, wouldn’t you say? I dunno, it just seems like a weird choice to me, or maybe she just couldn’t help herself. It strained our relationship, and I pushed back at every turn. She didn’t exactly hope that I would become a solar flare watcher. I’ve spoken to counselors here, and on the ship, but other than that, to my knowledge, I don’t undergo any tests or evaluations. No one seems to be recording my behavior in any way, unless they’re doing it from a pretty big distance. What can you tell me about Condor? Do you report in to someone about who he is, and what kinds of things he does? Is someone writing a scientific paper about it? I would prefer it if you let me know, but it’s more important that he knows, so if you only tell one of us, I would rather be the one left in the dark.

It was nice to meet you,

Effectively, a stranger,

Corinthia

Microstory 1981: Defenses

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Leonard: Oh. I just came down here to shore up our defenses.

Myka: Same. I wanna make sure we know our exits. This is an interesting tunnel.

Leonard: Yeah, it is. Must have a purpose. Well, I’ll go find something else to do.

Myka: Are you avoiding me?

Leonard: Of course not. Why would I do that?

Myka: Well, the last time we spoke, you were leaving on your hush-hush mission—

Leonard: I was compelled not to tell you what we were doing. I didn’t even know much about it myself. We didn’t learn the details until we arrived, and even then there was a lot of improvisation involved.

Myka: I’m not mad at you for keeping it secret. I’m just saying...we were growing closer, and since you’ve been back, I feel like you’re a different person.

Leonard: I guess I kind of am different. I’ve been in situations like that before, but not quite like it. I’ve never been rogue. This is all very strange to me.

Myka: I’m fascinated by you, Leonard, and I want to know what you mean by that.

Leonard: What I mean by it being strange?

Myka: What you mean that you’ve been in such situations. You were a parole officer, but it sounds like you were so much more than that. You’ve told me that you’ve been on missions before, which is not in the job description on our planet. *waits for a response that doesn’t come* It’s okay if you don’t wanna talk about it, but I just thought...

Leonard: Thought what? Go on.

Myka: I thought that there was something between us, but maybe I’m way off base.

Leonard: You’re not, but it’s complicated. I had just finalized my divorce before I arrived here. I mean that literally. I signed the papers, then stepped outside to mail them on my way to meet a friend. I forgot something inside, so I went back in real quick, and when I opened the door again, I was here. I didn’t even notice that something was weird until I looked up and realized that I was no longer in my neighborhood. My first thought was that I lost time, but then the patrol officer started talking about the National Commander, instead of the President, and I knew that something was really wrong. I think my mail went through, but I don’t know that for sure. Maybe I’m remembering that wrong. Maybe I’m not really divorced.

Myka: Forgive me, but it sounds like you are regardless. A divorce doesn’t happen once the lawyers get the paperwork. It happens when you decide that it needs to. Of course, until those papers are signed, you can always change your mind, but you did sign them. You did make that decision, and your ex did too, didn’t they?

Leonard: Yeah, she signed them first.

Myka: I’m not asking for your love, I’m just asking what your love is gonna take.

Leonard: Those are song lyrics where I come from. Did you do that on purpose?

Myka: A man I once knew said that to me long ago. Maybe he was from your universe too. Look, I know we’re dealing with a lot right now, but we both deserve to be happy. I just want you to know that it’s okay to be a little selfish. Not everything is about DExA.

Leonard: You’re right. But let’s start slow. We can’t really go out to eat, so...wanna check out the shooting range that Micro apparently built herself?

Microstory 1954: Concerning Strength

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Reese: That’s some good shootin’ there, friend.

Leonard: You don’t have to sugar-coat it. I can see my own shots. I’m doing terribly. I’m sure if you stood up here, there would only be one hole on the target after you emptied the mag.

Reese: I don’t know about that, but I imagine parole officers don’t get much target training, and don’t have to keep up with the same standards.

Leonard: No, not conventionally. That’s why I’m here. If I’m going to lead the trainees and agents, I need to be better. I doubt I’ll be as good as them, but if I turn out to not be a great leader, I can’t also be terrible at everything else at the same time.

Reese: I’m certain you’ll do great. SI Eliot isn’t a decent shot either, which is why he’s a leader, and he got to where he is today because he’s a good judge of character.

Leonard: I wouldn’t know.

Reese: He chose you, didn’t he? And Myka?

Leonard: That’s true...on the second part.

Reese: I know you’re nervous. I am too. I’ve never been in this position before. Sure, I’ve spoken to crowds, and I’ve coordinated with local law enforcement, but I’ve never been fully in charge. I still don’t know what we’re gonna be doing. Nobody does. Is this an invasion? Are we fostering allies? Will we never see another new alien again?

Leonard: I suppose all we can do is start at the beginning, and take it one day at a time.

Reese: *chuckling a little* Well, the range looks great. You clean this all up yourself? 

Leonard: Yeah, I guess the remodelers weren’t told that we would need it, but I’m thinking we will.

Reese: We definitely will. Is there anything you need for it, or for anything else? Have you noticed a lightbulb out, or whatever?

Leonard: Not that I’ve seen, but I’ve not been on the lookout for that kind of stuff. I can do that now, though; walk through the space, and take note of issues.

Reese: Nah, you don’t have to. Myka is responsible for that. One of the detainees has already been assigned to her team. We’ll send him on that scavenger hunt. Speaking of Myka, what do you think of her?

Leonard: Myka? Oh, she’s great. She’s mentioned her plans for this building; it sounds like she’s ready to turn it into a real workplace.

Reese: That’s not what I mean.

Leonard: I don’t know what you mean.

Reese: Evidently you asked about interoffice relationships?

Leonard: I don’t know what you’re talking about.

Reese: It’s okay. I’ve seen the way you two are with each other. Anyway, that’s irrelevant. Even if you were only asking to better understand the laws of our world in general, I’ll give you the answer. The government encourages finding partners within the same organization. It’s easier to deal with confidential information. Even if you’re not allowed to tell your partner something, they’re better at knowing not to ask.

Leonard: *nodding* If we’re talking in generalizations, then I should ask...how do you feel about Myka? I guess that’s not that general.

Microstory 51: Range

I woke up yesterday afternoon with a single thought. I had to go somewhere I hadn’t been before to hike and take photos. I’ve been working on a phone app, and one thing I’m planning on having is a photo of the day. I already had a couple hundred just from living life that fit the bill. I try to use ones that don’t show people’s faces. The legal issues that could potentially arise just aren’t worth it. I like to walk to get my exercise, so this was killing two birds with one rifle. I found some a trail that looked good, and drove out there. I got lost once, but it was easy to get back on track. As I was walking along the lake, listening to music, I could hear loud snapping sounds. I pulled up the map again and discovered that there was a shooting range nearby. I decided to keep going and take a look. The man at the booth agreed to let me watch, and even gave me some earplugs. There weren’t very many people there, so it wasn’t that exciting. As I was sitting there, I realized that I recognized the place. It’s where I first learned to shoot while I was in scouts. I joined the troop just in time. At some point after that trip, the leaders decided to keep guns out of the hands of minors, and we never did it again. There was talk of paintball, but even that scared the helicopter parents. After a few minutes of watching a father teach his son, as well as a woman I believe they had just met, they turned on the cease-fire lights. While they went down range to check out their work, I went up the hill to the side so that I could get a good picture from the other direction. What I discovered was that there was a second section on the other side of the hill, and they were not in cease-fire mode. They were able to get the bullet out of my shoulder, though, so everything’s fine.