Microstory 2507: Pain Feeler

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I can feel your pain, and kindle your ecstasy. Isn’t that such an interesting way to put it? You know, these gifts we had; they didn’t come with instruction manuals. We had to figure out how they worked, and develop ways to explain them. Other people’s gifts might be a little vague and profound, but mine was simple. If you were in physical and/or emotional pain, I could feel that. Fortunately, I could choose not to feel it. Not everyone on the team could exercise so much control, and switch it off when they didn’t want it. I don’t know if I could have lived with myself if I couldn’t so I’m grateful for that, and I’m sure Landis is too. Basically, what I did was make people feel better. It was only a temporary solution, and a very complicated and delicate process to navigate. Sure, I could have run around the world alone, essentially as a walking-talking recreational drug, but that’s not going to help anyone in the long-term. And honestly, if they wanted to feel better in the way that I could help them, they could just do it themselves. What I did was only one step of the program. When it was the right time, I eased their suffering, so they could think clearly, and figure out how they were going to improve their lives. It wouldn’t work if I did it too early, because then they would have kind of forgotten what was so upsetting to them in the first place. They would basically treat my gift as the only useful solution, and not worry about what would happen when it wore off. I couldn’t do it too late either, or they would get frustrated that they did all this work, and I could have just solved their problems right away. I had to find a balance, which was the hardest part of the job. These days, I’m pretty happy. I loved what I used to do, and I think about it sometimes, but it’s kind of nice to just have a regular job, and live a regular life. Things were so complex, and I was always having to think about how I was going to kindle someone’s ecstasy. Now I move boxes from a truck to a shelf, or a shelf to a truck. There’s an answer for everything, and you know when you’ve done it wrong. And the burden of responsibility was a weight on my shoulders that I didn’t know I was carrying until it was gone. Basically, all I’m trying to say is that I’m glad that it happened, and I’m happy with what I have now. I don’t think I could say the same if my life were just one or the other. Landis is going to cure everyone one day, and while it won’t necessarily alleviate pain, I know that it will help, and it’s more than I could have ever done on my own.

Microstory 2505: Health Smeller

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I can smell your health, and heal your ailments. I was Landis Tipton before Landis Tipton was Landis Tipton. While we gifted him with all of the Vulnerabilities, mine is the one that he uses primarily, if not exclusively. I want to make it clear that I did not waste my gift when I had it. I too healed people. It was at a smaller scale, but you have to understand that none of us believed that we could announce ourselves to the world. Before Landis was brave enough to stand in the spotlight, it felt too dangerous to be open to the public. We decided that we had to be very selective with our clients. Of course, that didn’t always work out, but we did our best. I think we helped a lot of people. Everyone we chose was entitled to a healing, but it was sort of usually considered secondary to the other—more abstract—therapies. People get sick; it’s a way of life, and I didn’t think that there was anything I could do about it. It didn’t even occur to us that my gift of healing could one day be synthesized into a mass-produced cure-all. What people really needed was to feel better about themselves, and realize their dreams, even if that meant shifting those dreams to things that were a little more realistic and attainable. I’m not saying that I was a pointless member of the team, but we did see our responsibility as being more holistic. On the contrary, my job was very important, and should not be discounted. You see, healing begins from within, but physical pain and suffering is real, and it can make it impossible to feel like your life can get better, even if you’ve not been stricken with some serious disease. Everyone has something. They have joint pain, or frequent headaches, or circulation issues. I could fix all of that. Maybe not permanently, but those first few days after the clients met us were incredibly vital. It was at least one less thing that they were worried about while they were trying to move on, and improve their situations. It gave them a new baseline by which they could judge the things that happened to them in the future, both good and not-so-great. Healthy body, healthy mind, as they say. I have heard people ask Landis what people’s health smells like, but I have never heard his answer. That’s probably because he’s so busy saving the world. That’s not me being resentful, but it does lead well into the answer to their question. When something is particularly wrong with someone, their health typically smells sickly sweet, like spoiled fruit. The disease is rotting away in their body, creating a build-up of waste, and generating a toxic smell that anyone would perceive as being wrong, if their noses were designed to detect the right signals. Poor general health, on the other hand, is bitter, with metallic overtones, and I could sometimes cure that too, but generally not. So if you ever meet Landis in person, and he’s a little shy or standoffish, I can’t speak for him, but that might be why. People just kind of smell bad all the time, even when they’ve been cured. It’s unsettling, but it’s part of the job, and I for one think that Landis faces it valiantly.

Microstory 2069: There Are No Winners

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I’m feeling bad again, but it has nothing to do with my recent infections. I’m a week away from my first day on the job at the garden, and I’m getting really nervous about it. I’ve been worshiping the porcelain god, as they say. Can you imagine what a real porcelain god would be like? Of course you can’t, you gave up religion a long time ago, because it was too interesting. That’s one upside to living on this Earth, I guess. You somehow lost the curiosity gene, but at least you don’t believe in a flying spaghetti monster. I was hoping that I would be less anxious, since I’ve not encountered very many surprising people, except for those two alien believers, but my stomach has a different idea. When I’m not running from my life, like I was when Cricket, Claire, and I were hopping all over the multiverse, I’m anxious all the time. That’s me, I’m full of anxiety. Well, that and depression. I hear “brave” people in the public eye talking about how their mental health issues are things that they’ve been battling. But for me, it has always just been suffering. It’s not a fight, it’s survival. There are no winners. All I can really do—after the medication wears off, and the therapists close the door—is get through the day. Then I get five or six hours of sleep, and wake up to get through the next day. Listen to me, being all moody and broody about life. It’s not all that bad. It’s not like I can remember every bad thing that has ever happened to me, and I can’t remember many of the good things. That would be crazy, right? Ha. Right? Who could survive that?

The Advancement of Mateo Matic: June 22, 2398

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They’re whispering, so Leona can’t hear very well, but she can make out most of what they’re saying on the other side of the door. It’s good, because she works better when people are rattled. She has had it up to here with people threatening her family, and that ends today, whether he heeds her warning, or ignores it, and suffers.

“I told you not to disturb me, Sheila,” or whatever her name is.

“I’m sorry, sir, but she has an SD6 badge.”

“SD6?” he questions. “Is it Agent Matic?”

“I couldn’t see, sir. I saw that symbol, and froze. She looks...”

“She looks what?”

“She looks...menacing.”

“Let her in, and go to lunch.”

“Sir, it’s only—”

“Go to lunch!”

The secretary comes back out to the waiting area, and immediately realizes that she’s no longer smiling, which is probably in her job description. She remedies it, and says, “he’s ready to see you now.”

Leona walks in and closes the door.

“Agent Matic, I apologize for failing to explain to you that our business relationship will be relegated to the laboratory. You are not to come to my office. I can’t be seen in your company.”

She stares at him stoically. “I failed as well. I failed my family. I thought, if I took up the mantle of the badge, you would leave them alone. I was wrong about that, and I promise that I will not let it happen again.”

“Leona, we all have a job to do—”

“And your job is to serve your country, but here’s the thing, I don’t give a shit about this country. It’s not my home, and it never will be. Those people are my home, and you’re threatening them. Where I come from, we react in kind.” She removes a little berry from her pocket, and sets it on his desk.

He’s actually scared of it, because he doesn’t know what it is. “Is that a...tiny little bomb, or something? Is that a fusion bomb?”

She rolls her eyes. “It’s a hungerberry. It grows seemingly naturally on a single island in the middle of the ocean, which just so happens to be named after me, on a planet called Dardius.”

“So you are aliens?”

“We’re castaways, stop losing focus. It’s called a hungerberry, because it makes you hungry. There’s no cure, certainly not on your world. I’ve been saving it for a very long time, but I haven’t kept it refrigerated, so honestly, I don’t know how potent it is. Perhaps it ferments, and grows stronger with age. It’s not shriveled and dead yet, which is weird when you consider it’s been years since I picked it. I have more than one, and like I said, we react in kind, so right now, while you’re at zero berries, you’re treading dangerously close to one berry. Now, it won’t cause you to feel starved, but you will be slightly uncomfortable for the rest of your life. You’ll never feel satiated, no matter how much you eat, but you’ll have to regulate your intake intellectually, or you could overeat, and die. Are you following me so far?”

“Poisonous berries, I got it,” he responds.

She lives up to her recent reputation of being menacing with an evil grin, and an uncomfortably jovial timbre. “Keep in mind that when I was using the word you, I wasn’t talking about you specifically. It’s more in the general sense, because I wouldn’t be force feeding you the hungerberry, I would be giving it to your daughter.” Upon the last few words, she drops the grin, and goes straight to genuine wrath.

If he wasn’t paying attention before, he is now.

“I understand that life is a give and take, so I’m not severing ties with your family, nor the lab. I will continue to work on fusion, and I will continue to execute missions to both your discretion, and my own. But you will not reach out to my husband, and you will not threaten or harm anyone else that I care about. Because if you only learn one lesson today, let it be this. The hungerberry...is my least powerful weapon. If you fucking push me, I will ruin you. You and your daughter will suffer so hard, you will wish I had instead given you all the berries in my possession. Do you have any questions?” She overenunciates the last sentence.

He’s frightened and humbled. “No, sir. We’ll leave them alone.”

“Good. And be nicer to your assistant. Don’t be a cliché.” She takes the berry, so he can’t use it to start a war, or something, and starts to leave his office.

“One thing,” he says, still scared of her. “Is the berry real, or just a prop?”

“Oh, it’s very real. It contributed to the death of an immortal. Have a nice day.” That’ll only entice him to learn more about time travel, and find out what else is out there, but it was a pretty cool way to end the so-called conversation, so she just couldn’t help herself. She walks out of the building, and goes home to her family.

Microstory 1400: Durance Introduction

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The history of planet Durus can be broken down into eleven eras, of varying duration, and are mostly based on the forms of government that ran the world in those times. First off, the name itself has complicated origins. It derives from the word endurance, which means lasting, but is often used in the context of prolonged suffering. That’s perfect for this world, because across the decades, its early inhabitants all suffered. No one had it good—even those who had it better—until democracy took hold after nearly two hundred years without it. But still, they endured. The name also comes directly from the root durus, which means hard. This relates to the world’s seemingly insurmountable harshness, and the fact that, when found, the rogue planet was barely more than a lifeless rock, floating through the void. The reason this series is simply called Durance is because that means imprisonment, and many have felt trapped on Durus, what with there being little hope of returning to Earth. The first to become trapped was a three-year-old girl named Savitri, who fell into a portal near her childhood home, and never returned. She spent ten years alone, never knowing her own last name, before the next unsuspecting child experienced a similar trauma. They were then alone together for another ten years until other people started coming through. The first period was retroactively referred to as the Solocracy, which means it was never a form of government at all, but it is said that Savitri commanded the world itself, using her powers to summon supporting life to her proximity. As we’ll discover, that’s not really what happened, but it’s a nice idea. When Escher Bradley appeared at the end of this single-person society, they formed what they called the Twoarchy; a sentiment which remained in historical records, even though the real term should have been Diarchy. Soon after Rothko Ladhiffe showed up, the final era of pre-civilization began, which was called the Triumvirate, though it wasn’t always composed of the same three people.

In the year 2016, the final remnants of the once-great city of Springfield, Kansas fell into the portal during something called the Deathfall, and sealed it up. This was when true society formed, and it did not go well. A tyrant named Smith garnered favor with the right people, and struck fear in the hearts of everyone else, forcing the town to follow his law until his disappearance five years later. There were many dangers in this world; monsters with rarely rational reasons for their destructive behavior, so Smith felt he needed to rule with an iron fist, and consolidate all power unto himself. Insurgents call this the Smithtatorship, which the historical documents support, because Smith himself never bothered naming his reign anyway. The next nine years were a mixed-bag of really bad, just normal bad, and not too terribly bad, but still kind of bad. It’s actually composed of a series of experimental governances, which are collectively known as the Adhocracy. It is only when the source mages, who were born in the months after Deathfall, grew old enough to take power, that things started looking up. They formed the Mage Protectorate, and used their abilities to give those they deemed worthy powers of their own, so they could keep watch over the now multiplying towns. This was a relatively peaceful period, as the monsters now that knew they were no match for the mages. Their patience lasted only sixty years, though, at which point a short war broke out, and sent the world into a dark era called the Interstitial Chaos. There was no significant attempt at a unifying governing body of any kind for these four years, but a lot happened, so it is an era in its own right.

Believing women as a whole to be the true agents of chaos and pain, a group of men took over Durus, and developed what they called The Republic. Detractors called it the Phallocracy, and enduring supporters often retroactively call it the First Republic, to distinguish it from the Democratic Republic that finally formed in 2168. In between these two republics were two short-lived transitional periods, known respectively as the Provisional Government, and the Salmon Battalion Military State. The latter came from Earth to keep things in order when some saw the Provisional Government was taking too long getting over its misogynistic ways. Lastly, the Solar Democratic Republic began in the year 2204. After potentially millions of years without a host star of its own, Durus finally found itself orbiting a binary star system. The name change is symbolic, and not reflective of any true change in government, though some debate whether to consider it the twelfth era. Others say Savitri’s period of solitude shouldn’t be treated as an era on its own either way, but no one is confident in this position. We will be examining various stories in chronological order over the course of the next five months. Each of the eleven or twelve Durune eras will be featured, but installments will not be evenly distributed across them. Here we go.

Microstory 1394: Misdirection

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Garden Terrorist 1: Mr. Stern! I see you’ve survived! How was it?

Fiore Stern: It was simultaneously the best, and worst, thing I’ve ever experienced in my life. What was the deal with that sheep? Did everybody get to do that?

Garden Terrorist 2: A lot of the tests are all about loyalty, but that one was about how strong your stomach is. I mean, if you can kill a sheep that slowly, I imagine you can do just about anything.

Fiore Stern: Yeah, it didn’t bother me at all.

Garden Terrorist 3: I was watching you from a distance. You hold the record for longest sheep suffering. You should be proud of yourself.

Fiore Stern: Oh, interesting. So, this is a suitability interview?

Garden Terrorist 2: Ah, it’s not really an interview. We’re here to get to know you, so we can start to build some trust.

Fiore Stern: You guys work in the gardens?

Garden Terrorist 1: Yeah, that’s all we do.

Garden Terrorist 3: In fact, they don’t want us to know anything about what’s really going on in this organization.

Fiore Stern: What is really going on in this organization? And could you speak directly into my shirt collar?

Garden Terrorist 2: Haha! I love this guy. You’re gonna do just fine here, Sterny. That’s what we’ll call you; Sterny.

Garden Terrorist 3: Severe.

Fiore Stern: Huh?

Garden Terrorist 3: We’ll call you Severe. It’s a synonym for stern, ain’t it? Makes you sound mysterious, and dangerous.

Garden Terrorist 2: Oo, I like that. Yeah, that’s much better. Have a drink, Severe.

Garden Terrorist 1: Severe is a perfect name. You certainly lived up to it when you drained that sheep, and when you beat that man half to death.

Fiore Stern: Yeah, who was that? Does he work here?

Garden Terrorist 3: Yeah, but he tested much lower than you.

Garden Terrorist 2: And he’s a masochist.

Garden Terrorist 1: So he volunteers to be the punching bag for Stage Two of initiation.

Fiore Stern: Well, I almost killed him full to death.

Garden Terrorist 1: That’s the risk we all take. You can’t work for us if you’re afraid of a little danger.

Garden Terrorist 2: Or a little pain.

Fiore Stern: I have no problem with pain. I just prefer to be the one doling it out.

Garden Terrorist 2: Ha! There he goes again with that sharp humor! Get him another drink, you whatever your name is.

Garden Terrorist 1: Actually, go get us a keg.

Fiore Stern: So, I wanted to ask you guys something, and I hope I’m not out of line. I understand that I’m not here to be involved in the main business, but what if I were to have...let’s call them extracurriculars?

Garden Terrorist 3: Oh, I see what he’s sayin’. This boy likes to play. We all have our extracurriculars.

Garden Terrorist 1: Rule number one, don’t do anything to jeopardize this organization. You can have a life outside of it, but if you get caught, you better keep us out of it. We’ll deny having any knowledge of whatever it is you like, which will be plausible, because you won’t be telling us. Obviously, we have people in law enforcement who work for us, but you won’t ever know who, so there’s no one out there you can trust. You feel me?

Fiore Stern: I got it. We’re good. I’ll keep to myself.

Garden Terrorist 3: Well, drink up! The world’s ours now.