Microstory 2323: Earth, October 25, 2178

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Dear Corinthia,

Yeah, you would think that our dad would have reached out again by now, but he still hasn’t. Not really, anyway. He sent me a text message about having to travel to one of the other domes, but he didn’t say much about it. This sort of thing happens in politics. You’re trying to negotiate with one party, but they won’t give you what you need unless you get them something that you don’t have, so you have to go to someone else. It can start this whole chain of favor after favor after favor. He’s never had to be away for quite this long before, though, so I’m kind of thinking that he’s avoiding our impending conversation. It seems like a lot to go through. I mean, he has to register his itinerary with the travel office, which I have access to. Movement on this planet is heavily regulated except in the poisoned regions themselves, so he is definitely going to the other dome, and they definitely won’t let him in unless he has a good reason, so I guess he’s not lying? I don’t know. I’m trying to get approval to travel myself, so maybe I can confront him earlier than he was planning. I’ll try to let you know if I do secure the approval, but after that, I might have trouble staying in contact with you. I can’t exactly send out a quick message from my personal device to outer space 1200 AU from Earth. I doubt it will happen anyway, though. I don’t have that good of a reason to leave. Anyway, thanks for getting back to me. Sorry about the whole lockdown situation, even though it doesn’t sound like it was as bad for you as it was for some. We have lockdowns all the time, so I kind of know what you went through. Like you, we’re always pretty well-stocked. We don’t have any restrictions on it, but we try to be mindful of what others will need, so we don’t take more than our fair share. That’s not to say that you were taking more than you deserve. You need it because your job demands constant monitoring. We have extra because of my dad’s job, but only insofar as he has special privileges here, not because of any inherent need. That reminds me, should I be calling him my dad or our dad? I think I’ve said it both ways in our previous letters. I’ve not asked him if he wants to speak with you, because I don’t think he deserves to get to know you, but if you want to get to know him, I don’t have a problem with it. I suppose that’s the true issue here, whether you consider him family, or have any interest in becoming that one day, or what. Just let me know what you feel more comfortable with; what to call him, and whether you want to hear from him directly.

Glad you’re back,

Condor

Microstory 2322: Vacuus, October 18, 2178

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Dear Condor,

I’m back online. Whew, that took longer than we expected/hoped. Home Day—which I forgot to tell you is what we call the triennial holiday that we observe to celebrate coming out of survival mode after landing on this world—was two days ago. The IT team had some major issues while they were trying to upgrade the hardware. I don’t know much about what they were dealing with, since that’s not my department. All I know is that my systems always get changed over at the end, because I still need to be on the lookout for radiation issues. Our servers were down for almost a month, which we’ve never had to endure before. Again, it didn’t really affect me, except that I wasn’t able to converse with you, so that was annoying. A lot of people had it a lot worse, though. They didn’t plan to have to stop their work for so long. Everybody was happy to have a vacation, but at some point, they wanted to get back to their jobs. That’s their purpose in life, to contribute to scientific advancement, and make a name for themselves. It was too dangerous to leave the habitat most of the time, because everything would have to be done manually, and most of the safety redundancies were gone. So people got a little bit of cabin fever. We even had a lockdown for two days, because they were testing the lockdown protocols, but couldn’t figure out how to get it turned off. I guess it was good that they learned from their mistakes before there was a real emergency. No one was able to leave their designated area for that entire time. Fortunately, I don’t really leave my room anymore anyway, now that our mom is dead. I sleep and work in the same compartment, and I’m all stocked up. Not everyone lives like that. Since I’ve never been able to leave my workstation unmanned for extended periods of time, I have special permission to store an expanded cache of rations. As long as the plumbing, electricity, and ventilation keep working, I reckon I could remain in my quarters for at least two months. It might even be longer with the carbon scrubber that I don’t use, and since I have this packet of seeds that I don’t bother with. Other people like to grow their own plants, but I prefer the prepackaged stuff. Gardening just isn’t my thing, but I could do it if I had no choice. Okay, sorry, I’m rambling again. Let me know how you’ve been. Surely our dad has been able to make contact again by now.

Back from radio silence,

Corinthia

The Advancement of Mateo Matic: July 15, 2398

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Marie is sitting on the cot, face pressed up against the glass, not in a longing sort of way, but just because she’s bored. This isn’t the first time she’s been locked up, and if she survives, it won’t be the last. The other three are doing their own thing, but they seem just as bored.

“How long have we been here?” Kivi asks.

“At least a day,” Heath answers, just guessing.

“Are they gonna torture us, or something, or is this the torture?” There is nothing in this glass cell but eight cots, one toilet, partially covered, a sink with an extension to approximate a shower, and holes for ventilation. Under the sink is a stack of these dense granola squares for them to eat at their leisure.

They haven’t seen a single soul since they woke up here yesterday. The light is dim, and they can’t see the outside. They get the sense that this thing was built in the center of a warehouse, but it’s so dark that they can’t be certain of the scope. Surely someone is watching them on monitors somewhere, but they don’t actually see the cameras. There is no sound. Not even the light fixtures give off that familiar hum you normally wouldn’t be able to get out of your head when everything else is this silent. For now, the only noises they hear are the ones they make.

“Don’t give them any ideas,” Marie tells her, pulling her face from the wall for a minute. “They’re always listening,” she whispers.

“You don’t know that,” Heath says. “Look around. I don’t see anywhere for anybody to slip food to us. Hell, one of these bars holding the glass together is probably a door, but we don’t know which. All we have may be all we ever will. This may not be a jail cell at all, but a coffin.”

“Don’t be so morbid,” Marie urges. “They brought us here for a reason.”

“What reason?” Kivi questions.

“If I knew that...” Marie begins, going back to the glass. She stops in the middle of the sentence when she realizes that there is no way to finish it. It doesn’t matter what she knows, and doesn’t. There are no actions to take in here besides sleeping, eating, cleaning, and wasting. Her guess is as good as Kivi’s

“Does this have anything to do with A—”

Marie quickly turns from the glass again. “Shh!” Kivi was about to drop Amir’s name, which she shouldn’t, in case he has nothing to do with it. Or they, rather since there are two Amir Hussains. Swapping them, and freeing them both to different places, was their only choice. They knew it would cause problems, but they didn’t think these people would take it this far. The second Amir was so interested in getting out of Birket that he gleefully accepted the risk. Marie is glad that Leona isn’t here, but she could have helped. For one, she probably would have already figured out who these people truly are, and how to get out of here, and in two weeks, she would be running the joint.

“Sorry,” Kivi says. “I’m just hungry.”

“Go ahead, and have another square,” Marie suggests.

“I can’t, we have to ration it.”

“No, we don’t,” Heath insists. “It’s fine. I was just being dramatic.”

“Yes, we do, and no, it’s not, and no, you weren’t,” the fourth prisoner says.

The Advancement of Mateo Matic: July 4, 2398

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They’re called megablocks. By nesting courtyards inside of other courtyards, many times over, and building vertically, tens of thousands of people can live on a plot of land not much greater than 60 acres. Most of these do not contain prison cells, though they could be modified, if need be. When the government of Birket built the first one, their idea was to give criminals a place to live, but nothing else. They would have to farm for themselves, and take whatever water rations they were allotted. Over time, other nations, and private organizations, took pity on the residents of the penal colony, and began to send them supplies. Now these gifts are airdropped on a weekly basis. Furniture, entertainment, and of course food is shipped in from all over the work. The leaders of Birket do not try to stop this. Their only concern is keeping the guilty away from the Dead Sea and Jordan River, or transporting them to Egypt when the appropriate asylum paperwork goes through. For the four time travelers in this reality, this paperwork has not yet gone through, and they’re not sure it ever will.

In other penal colonies throughout history, left to their own devices, the people living there usually govern themselves, and this is true of the Birket colony, though to no astounding degree. The internal leadership only worries about whether someone has a place to live, and whether they intend to cause trouble. Don’t cause trouble. It’s the only written rule, and it’s posted all over the place. Stealing, murder, rape; these all fall into this category of crime, along with a lot of other things, and they all come with the same punishment. The original megablock is a prison within the prison, does indeed contain cells that lock from the outside, and is reserved to house all the ne’er do wells that disrupt the unexciting harmony of life in the other megablocks. It’s rundown, dirty, and rationed. There aren’t too many people in there since most of the colony residents are here because they want to be, not because they have behavioral issues.

Leona, Marie, Kivi, and Heath don’t want to be here, but they are trying to make the best of it. They arrived with two phones, which means that Ramses will be able to trace their location. These devices were taken away from them, and communication with the outside world is extremely restricted—which helps to curb the population—but they’re confident that they will be released soon. For now, all they can do is wait in the bare housing unit that was assigned to them. There is hardly anything in here, because they have yet to earn that right, but it shouldn’t matter much. Overall, it’s not a bad place to live, which is why some people try to cross the border intentionally. In some cases, it’s the best path to asylum, even if that ends up being somewhere else. There’s only so much room, though, so they don't encourage it. Newbies just have to sleep on the floor, and pretty much beg for rations, and this is a fact that the rest of the world knows all too well, which is again why not all refugees just flock here.

For the most part, representatives of the Birket government do not step foot in the megablocks. When they do, it’s kind of a big deal. People know that special circumstances have forced this to happen. That apparently isn’t going to be okay in this situation, which is why one of them has had to make contact with the group in secret. “Which one of you is Agent Leona Delaney?” the young boy asks.

“Who is asking?” Leona questions.

“Senator Melville Honeycutt has a mission for you while you’re stuck here. I would do it myself, but—” He presents himself regrettably. “...I don’t fit the prerequisites.”

“You live here permanently?” Marie asks him.

“I have a certain medical condition that stunted my aging,” he explains. “It would have made my life annoying, but I work here, because I can fly under the radar. No one suspects the kid to be the inside man.”

“I assume that Honeycutt wants us to find someone?” Leona asks.

“You make it sound so simple. I don’t think it is. They don’t exactly take census in the colony. If you’re here, people assume you belong, and no one cares who you are, or who you were before your verdict. Yes, he wants you to find someone. But you won’t have much to go on.”

“That’s okay,” Kivi says. “I’m sure we have done a lot more with a lot less.”

The young-looking man takes an envelope out of his breast pocket, and hands it to Leona. “Good luck. He’ll theoretically release all five of you once you find your target.”

Microstory 1704: Aquarius

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This is it, it’s finally happened. Out of all contenders, I have been chosen to succeed my predecessor in the highest rank possible for someone of my station. Today, I become the Sovereign Supreme’s Aquarius, and I could not be more honored. I’m too excited to fall asleep naturally the night before, but I need to be well-rested and alert, so I ask my friend to sneak me some polpenroot. It’s not illegal, but the Sovereign Supreme doesn’t like his personal staff using drugs, even for medicinal purposes. When I awaken, I rush up to the palace, eager to begin my duties. The current aquarius is waiting for me at the reservoir, perhaps remembering how impatient he was when it was his turn. In the meantime, he gives me a tour, even though I’ve been here a million times to train. Water is sacred, and I know everything about how we conserve and utilize it wisely. It will soon be my job to collect, transport, and protect the Sovereign’s personal water rations. Of course he deserves the most out of anybody, but he never takes too much. He’s trained his body to survive on less, as we all have. Still, people are envious of his power, and they attempt to steal rations from him more than anywhere else, not only to make their own lives a little easier, but to make it harder on him. I won’t let that happen. No one has managed to steal from the Supreme in over thirty years, and I’m not about to end that trend. My predecessor finishes the tour, and instructs me to go to the Great Hall, where a breakfast banquet is being set up. It’s not just in recognition of me. Many other positions on the royal staff are being backfilled today, and I am only one. I believe mine is the most important job, but I imagine all of the others say the same about their own.

The Sovereign Supreme is pacing back and forth in front of his throne, rehearsing his speech. I watch him in awe. I’ve seen him before, but he looks even more glorious now that I’m a part of his detail. I am humbled in his presence. My predecessor comes in, but he’s not alone. He and a team of reservoir workers are rolling in a tank full of water. It is the most I’ve ever seen in my entire life outside of the reservoirs. These banquets only take place every several years, and attendees can reportedly drink as much as they want, but I’ve never heard confirmation of that. I hope it’s not true, as it would be so wasteful. The people are dying of thirst, and the reason I admire the Sovereign Supreme so much is that he’s fair and just. He understands what his people need, and he does everything in his power to keep us alive. The current aquarius and his team continue rolling the tank to the other side of the hall, and through another set of doors. Curious, I casually follow them in. I’m not sure I’m allowed to be in here, but this will be me in a few hours, so it can’t be that big of a deal. There’s something weird about this room. A beautiful shimmering light dances upon the walls, mesmerizing me, and keeping my eyes from seeing where I’m going. Out of the corner of my eye, I see the tank stop. One of the workers warns me to look out, but I don’t hear her in time. I slip on the edge, and fall down. I don’t hit the stone, though. Instead, I fall right into water. What is this, a secret reservoir? I scramble back to the surface, and struggle to stay up before realizing that my feet can touch the tile floor. I stand and look around. I’ve never seen anything like it before, but I’ve read about the way people lived long ago. This was back when they were frivolous and wasteful, and did not have to ration their water. The current aquarius is laughing. “It’s not time to swim yet! Wait until after breakfast!”