Microstory 1968: On the Books

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Moenia: Hey, Becca. I could have come to you.

Anaïs: Nice try, Moe. This one’s on the books, but I’m not meant to know anyone here.

Moenia: I get it, you don’t want me to see where you’re camped out.

Anaïs: Are you still in the game?

Moenia: Depends on what you’re lookin’ for. Wadya need this time? I got guns. I got gizmos. I got poisons and easy paper, if you’re into that sort of thing.

Anaïs: You know I’m not. I need to find someone. Reports are that he’s in town.

Moenia: He’s from the states proper?

Anaïs: Don’t know. We don’t know his name either, but we have the phone number he calls from. He doesn’t understand that the point of a burner is to burn it before too long.

Moenia: Who’s this we you’re talking about? You got yourself a new crew?

Anaïs: Somethin’ like that. Can you help me, or what?

Moenia: Nah, man. I’ve been outta Missi for almost as long as you have. I’m not touched in anymore.

Anaïs: That’s disappointing, Moe-Moe.

Moenia: Don’t you worry your pretty little self about it, though. I may know a guy.

Anaïs: You do? What guy?

Moenia: Well...I may know a guy who knows a guy.

Anaïs: That’s reassuring.

Moenia: Word is, he can find anyone in the city. I myself have never had the displeasure of needing anyone dead, but if you’ve got the hitch, lemme hook you up...for a small finder’s fee, o’ course.

Anaïs: I don’t need ‘im dead. I just need to find ‘im.

Moenia: Right, you just wanna talk. *airquotes* I get it.

Anaïs: You’ll get your fee, don’t ask questions. Give me the contact info for your guy who knows a guy. This is time sensitive.  A lot is at stake.

Moenia: You make it sound like the whole world’s in danger.

Anaïs: [...]

Moenia: Ah, shit. You’re on a shady trip. I don’t want no part of that. When you go in, you go in hard, and I don’t wanna hear about this on the books crap. I know you lyin’.

Anaïs: I’m not lying, it’s on the books. It’s just...a different book.

Moenia: Shit, Becca. You’re gonna get me killed. You’re not even under, are you? You got yourself a whole team this time. Where are they? Sniper on the roof?

Anaïs: The sniper’s back at the safehouse. They don’t know about this. Now can you put me in touch with the finder, or not?

Moenia: Yeah, I’ll get you his number, but you didn’t get it from me. I don’t want money for this, I just wanna get the hell out of this territory.

Anaïs: We may need your services later. We brought tools, but somethin’ may come up.

Moenia: Nah, I’m not stickin’ around. Give me your new number, I’ll do one more thing, and then I’m out. I know better than to be in Mississippi when Hurricane Becca rolls in. You need help at the Canadian border, I’m your man, but not here. It’s too hot.

Anaïs: All right, Moenia. You get me what I need, and I won’t bother you again.

Microstory 1967: Recognizing the Signs

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Reese: You two set up the computers. Sasho, follow me. I need you for something. Grab that bag. No, not that one. Yes, that one. Sachs, you know which case to grab. *leaves*

Ophelia: What do you think they’re talking about up there?

Micro: Leonard knows. Don’t ya, Leonard?

Leonard: Not sure, but that was obviously a rifle case, so my guess is that they’re going to start teaching Sasho how to spot through a scope.

Ophelia: That makes sense.

Micro: You ever shot anyone in your universe, Leo? Can I call you Leo?

Leonard: Leo is fine, yeah. And yes, I have had to fire my weapon before.

Micro: One of your parolees?

Leonard: No, this was something else.

Ophelia: What did you mean, in your universe? Are you just referring to the world of law enforcement, or am I missing something?

Leonard: Uhh...

Micro: Oh, we’re not from this universe. Like, literally. I’m from Salmonverse, and I don’t think his has a name.

Ophelia: I was not aware of this.

Leonard: We didn’t tell anyone, Micro. We especially didn’t tell anyone about you, since the government already knows about me, and we can still protect you from them.

Micro: *shrugging* I don’t need to be protected. I can take care of myself. I don’t see what the big deal is. We came through Westfall, which is the least jarring way to travel. Now, if I were from Linseverse, then you would really have something to question, because then your hacker would be a talking dinosaur—

Ophelia: Is that real, or are you joking?

Leonard: She’s joking.

Micro: No, they’re real. Troodons evolved human-comparable intelligence after not being wiped out in an extinction level event, like what happened in our three respective versions of Earth. I’ve never been there, but it’s in the multiversal historical record.

Leonard: How much do you know about all this? Have you met the Superintendent?

Ophelia: Who’s the Superintendent?

Micro: *laughing* No. Ophelia, the Superintendent knows a lot about the bulkverse, because his spirit possesses psychic abilities that allow him to witness hyperdimensionally remote events, which he uses to write stories that no one reads. But he’s not the only one with such knowledge, Leonard. One day, you’ll meet others.

Leonard: You said that there was no hope that I would get back home.

Micro: I meant that there was no reason to fixate on the possibility. Don’t waste your time in pursuit of it. But once you fall into the secret underbelly of reality, it’s pretty much impossible to crawl out of it, and leave it behind. You’ll cross paths with someone new, and your conditions will change again. Ophelia will probably meet someone else too, if she hasn’t already, but she just won’t realize it. You’ll learn to recognize the signs.

Leonard: Hmm. Well, Ophelia, I hope you can keep a secret. This is sensitive stuff.

Ophelia: I promise to say nothing. As long as you teach me to recognize the signs too.

Microstory 1966: Safehouse School

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Reese: Sergeant?

Sachs: Sachs.

Reese: Sachs, right. You searched the safehouse?

Sachs: It’s secure. We can start setting up.

Reese: *into his radio* Bring the equipment on in, Sasho. *to Sachs* Sasho and Sachs. Those two names are uncomfortably close. Hey, what’s your middle name, Sasho?

Sasho: *lugging luggage down the hall* Risto.

Reese: Really?

Sachs: Reese and Risto. That’s better.

Micro: Oh, this room is fine, Sachs Reese—I mean Sasho Risto—you can just drop that stuff anywhere. I’ll sort it out.

Ophelia: What does all this stuff do?

Micro: Everythings. All the thing. Surveillance, tracking, ordering pizza.

Reese: You two set up the computers. Sasho, follow me. I need you for something. Grab that bag. No, not that one. Yes, that one. Sachs, you know which case to grab. *leads them up to the attic* Okay. There’s a lot of space up here, which is good, but you could technically do this in a bathroom. Sasho, if you’ll open that up, you’ll find a projector and screen. Go ahead and lay everything out on this table.

Sachs: Is that what I think it is?

Reese: State of the art.

Sasho: I don’t understand. What is all this stuff for?

Sachs: *picking up a small object* This goes on the trigger?

Reese: Yes. Sasho, this is a sniper training toolkit. It’s a highly advanced altered reality system, which simulates real-world conditions for targets in any environment, at a distance up to four kilometers. It’s basically a simulation game that teaches you how to shoot without firing any real bullets. We’re limited by resources and space here. We can’t teach you how to spot in the middle of downtown Memphis, Mississippi. Don’t worry, we don’t expect you to learn everything in a few days, but you have to start somewhere. The training program is generally eight months, and if you would like to do that, we can discuss at a later date, but while others on the team are trying to locate our target, I figured you might as well get a taste.

Sasho: Yeah.

Reese: You did want this, right? You told me on the plane you wanted to branch out from your experience as a jailer.

Sasho: Yeah, I do. I just didn’t expect to start anything so soon. This all looks expensive. Is it all for me?

Sachs: It’s for me too. I’ve always wanted to learn with something like this. You can do it anywhere, anytime. I wouldn’t go so far as to say that I’m out of practice, but I’ve not been in combat for a few years. This can reportedly simulate just about anything.

Reese: You wanna try it? The stakes are incredibly low. That’s why scientists and engineers designed it in the first place.

Sasho: Okay. Start at the beginning. What do I do?

Microstory 1964: Assignment

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Sergeant Hyram Sachs: [...] So while I may look old—and I may be old—it’s only because I have twenty-seven years of experience in the army, and nearly as much as a sniper. I’m still lively and wiry, and I know what I’m doing. If you’re sitting next to me, I’ll do everything I can to keep you alive. If you’re on the other end of scope...I can’t promise you’ll see the next sun rise. Anyway, I appreciate you letting me join you a little early, even though I’ve technically not yet completed the specialized training. I know that this is a pretty tight-knit group, so I’ll remember to respect that, and be humble, and a good team-player. I’ll ask you to be patient with me while I find my place here.

Reese: This isn’t a tight-knit group. Besides me and Leonard, no one here has known anyone else for more than a few days. And even then, he and I measure our friendship in weeks. *exhales* We’re all starting something new today. Sergeant, you actually have an advantage, because only one of us has been on a tactical team before.

Anaïs: Oh, me? I’ve never been on a seven-star. I mostly work alone. I’ve been on teams, of course, but never like this. No, this is all you. We’ll follow you’re lead.

Reese: Okay. Well, like I was saying, this is new. I’ve spoken to each of you individually, but now we all need re-reintroductions, because no one mentioned their new role. I’m the leader, which makes sense. While I’m in the field, Myka Tennison will be running the facility. You probably won’t need to know that, but if we call in, it might be important. Leonard is my lieutenant out there. If I’m ever indisposed, or dead, you do what he says. Next in line is Agent Altimari. She’s the tactician. She has the heaviest background in hand-to-hand combat, and strategy. Hopefully we won’t need it, because a tactician is usually responsible for generating maneuvers for the whole team, but most of us aren’t properly trained in such tactics, and we certainly haven’t built a rapport. Obviously Sergeant Sachs is our sniper.

Hyram Sachs: Oh, that reminds me. Everyone just calls me Sachs. Especially here, I don’t think my army rank matters much.

Reese: All right, Sachs it is. Your spotter is Sasho Dreyer. Sasho, I’ve told you what that is, but for everyone else, a spotter usually works close with the sniper, and helps him find his targets. Of course, you don’t know how to do that, so for now, we’ll just kind of need you to be available to help the team in a more general sense. If you would like to continue in this role, you’ll need some of that specialized training that Sachs was talking about. For now, he was the only one who the boss felt was ready to go to field. Anyway, our engineer is Micro. She’ll handle the tech. Ophelia knows her way around a logic board too, so she’ll assist as the technician. Any questions so far?

Anaïs: Yeah. What exactly is this mission? What are we doing?

Reese: I meant about the team. We’re about to have the mission briefing, but I wanted to go over this first, so everybody understands the group dynamics. [...] Okay, then let’s go right on into it. We’ll be heading to Mississippi—

Group: *groans*

Leonard: Wait, what? What’s wrong with Mississippi?

Reese: I’ll explain later.

The Advancement of Mateo Matic: September 27, 2398

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Kivi is exhausted. She’s been working with an SD6 team to hunt down one or all of three people. They need to find Meredarchos, Erlendr Preston, or the version of Erlendr who hasn’t yet been sent off to that other universe. He will still be in Ramses’ body, but the other two are unknown. They’re theoretically looking for little Trina McIver, but they’re not sure the extent of Merdarchos’ power. He had more tricks up his sleeve than they knew when he first arrived, so maybe there’s more, and that’s still just the tip of the iceberg. So far, Kivi and the operatives have found nothing. They’ve not uncovered a shred of evidence that any of these people have ever set foot on this planet. Given enough time, she’s supposed to be able to locate anyone, and this has certainly been proven true many times over the past week...just not in the way that they want.

The team leader nods her head, prompting the spotter to slip the snake camera underneath the locked door. “Too dark. Activating night vision,” he whispers.

“What do you see in there?” the leader asks.

“Three people. No, five. They’re sitting in a circle. One of them is lighting candles.” He peers deeper into the viewer. “It looks like a religious ceremony.”

“Can you clock any faces?”

“No. We’ll have to go in.”

“Secondary entrance?”

The spotter turns the snake. “Open skylight. No backdoor.”

“Hurst, cover the main entrance here,” she orders the spotter. “Strand and Kermode, go to the roof. The rest of you will be with me, standard formation. Klein...blow the door.”

“Wait, where can I go?” Kivi asks as the engineer is setting his explosives.

“I said standard formation,” team leader Alserda repeats.

“You know I don’t have the training for that,” Kivi argues.

“You’ve seen us do it several times, we all trust you now,” Alserda insists.

“But—”

“They heard us,” Hurst announces, pulling the snake back.

“Klein, now!”

They barely have enough time to duck away before the doors blow open. The operatives burst into the room, and surround the targets. They could be bad guys, they could be good guys. They could be nobodies. It’s too early to tell. They don’t know anything about this situation. All Kivi can say for sure is that someone is here who needs to be found. It’s probably not the three men they’re after, but they have to move forward as if it is. So far, she’s rescued a missing kid, a wandering dementia patient, a few criminals, and a guy who just wanted to start a new life somewhere else. No matter how hard she tries to decide who her special gift seeks, it brings her to someone she didn’t even know needed to be found. It feels like the universe has taken control over her, like she’s just a salmon in the main sequence who the powers that be have chosen to be a Superfinder. Maybe it is her calling, but for now, they feel more like distractions. She’s happy to find these people, but they’re not who she’s really looking for. If the universe really wants her to do this, then it ought to let her finish her first mission first.

“State your business!” Alserda demands.

The people in robes hold their hands up high in surrender. “We’re just trying to worship in peace!” one of them says.

“We’re not hurting anyone!” says another.

“Hurst, face scanner,” Alserda orders.

The spotter holds the scanner up to each of their faces. Once he’s done, he says, “all missing college students. Suspected runaways.”

“We didn’t run away,” one of them argues.

“Well, we did, but we had to. The school won’t let us observe our holidays because it’s not an officially registered faith.”

Alserda turns to Kivi. “Bristol, you can sense our targets when you’re closer, right? What do you make of them?”

She’s been trying to find the three real targets this whole time, but the closer she is to a suspect, the easier it for her to rule them out. She scans the worshipers too, but with her own senses. “It’s not them. They must be who the scanner says they are.”

“Are you going to report us?” the apparent lead worshiper asks.

“That’s not our department.” Alserda walks away. “McGuinness, run the spiel.”

“It’ll be my last time, sir.” McGuiness is Alserda’s lieutenant on the tack team, and she’s on her way to retirement. She was actually meant to retire sooner, but this mission came up, and SD6 hasn’t been able to find a replacement. It’s become too late, though. McGuiness has other plans with her life, and her obligation to the government is over. They can’t keep her any longer, so she’s decided to leave at the end of the week. It’s going to take her that long to do her exit interview, and complete the closing paperwork. She was hoping to find Meredarchos and Erlendr, as are they all, but that’s not going to happen. Now she has to read these people their rights, and make them sign an NDA.

“I understand.” Alserda isn’t happy about losing her number two, but again, she has no choice in the matter. She speaks into her radio. “Secure the scene. We’ll meet you back at the base. Follow me,” she says to Kivi and Kivi alone.

“Sir. I’m sorry if I caused a problem.”

“That’s not what I want to talk to you about.” Alserda holds the car door open for her. “Have you ever thought about serving?”

“I serve my team,” Kivi explains. “I don’t serve the U.S. For now, our interests just happen to be aligned.”

“I understand that, but you’ve shown promise. I could sure use someone with your skills on my team. We’re losing someone, so we’ll be down an operative.”

“Sir, there’s no way I could be your lieutenant.”

Alserda laughs. “No, you couldn’t. You don’t have near enough experience. The top dogs would never allow it. No, I’m thinking about shaking up the team. Strand has learned enough to be an engineer, freeing Klein to be my new L-T. Meanwhile, Hurst has always wanted to be a tech, so he’ll replace Strand, and you can replace Hurst.”

“As a spotter?” Kivi questions. “I barely understand what he does.”

“He uses his eyes. He operates the cameras and scanners, as you’ve seen. If Kermode needs to snipe anyone, you’ll help her spot targets.”

“I don’t know about that.” Kivi isn’t in love with violence.

“You have a gift I’ve never seen before. Just think about it, okay?”

“Okay, I’ll consider your offer,” she promises with every intention of saying no after the appropriate amount of time has passed.

Microstory 140: Máire Lyne

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The standard tactical team of the Confederacy’s paramilitary arm carried seven people: a leader, his or her lieutenant, a sniper, a spotter, an engineer, a technician, and a combat expert. Teams were designed this way for a number of reasons. Scientists and other researchers had determined, based on basic dimensional physics and other strategic factors, that whenever a team needed to sufficiently surround and neutralize a threat, seven was always the minimum number focal points. The smaller team was also capable of infiltrating enemy lines without being detected, and the odd number prevented internal disputes from being stuck in a stalemate. Seoc Lyne and his sister, Máire Lyne belonged to a special strike team that had a total of eighteen members. Unlike her brother, who could fuse his body with one other person at a time and become nigh invulnerable, Máire could merge other people into herself. Each person she merged with increased her physical strength exponentially, and this appeared to be limited to around a dozen. While Seoc was fused with the team’s leader, Rashad, Máire was merged with ten other people, and though she was assigned to be the combat expert, those ten others gave her a huge variety of skills and expertise that she utilized with a psychic connection. The eighteen of them were compressed into seven and sent all over the globe on missions, protecting the world from threats that it was sometimes not even aware of. Upon joining Bellevue, Máire discovered that she was capable of presenting the abilities of other anomalies when merged with them. Because of this, Bellevue’s leader asked her to form a special new team. As the need arose, she and her brother would merge with one person from each department and go out on extremely vital missions as a single, nearly unstoppable, force. Tamra Shore provided telekinesis, Dores Roach allowed them to heal the innocent, Dathan Shapiro was more knowledgeable than all of them put together, Serenity Theodo gave them the ability to phase through solid objects, Valary Sela enhanced their vision, and Levi Jacobson allowed them to fly. They referred to this as Team 8.