Microstory 2270: This Global Investigation

< > Table of Contents

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

It’s been all over the news, so I’m sure you’ve already heard about it, but I’ll tell you what’s going on from our perspective. Nick has been abducted. Those men in suits who showed up on our doorstep, and gave our personal security team their credentials, were not affiliated with any government branch. Though don’t blame our security, because the authorities are about 90% sure that these were not random amateurs who got drunk one night, and decided to try for some ransom money. They’re highly trained professionals who probably used to have the credentials, so they know how to make fakes, or something similar. That is currently the most promising lead, hunting down military vets who were dishonorably discharged, or even missing in action. Everyone is doing everything they can, and they will catch these assholes, sooner or later. We do not presently know the motive, but we’re guessing that it’s political. They don’t want Nick to meet with the President, or vice versa. It can’t possibly be that they’re trying to turn him into a double agent, or something, right? I mean, I seriously doubt that the DPA is going to let the meeting move forward now anyway. No, they want something that Nick can offer today. We have to figure out what that is, and use that information to determine who wants that, and where they’re holding him. The frustrating thing is that he could be on the other side of the world by now. They took him so early in the morning, and it was hours before anyone knew that anything was wrong. We thought that it was above board. They knew things. They knew things about the plan, which probably means that this is an inside job, and at least one person still working in the right position in the government is feeding them the info. That’s another angle that will help the agencies find who is responsible for this travesty. We’re going to get our man back, and those who did this to him will pay for it. Governments from other countries are even reportedly cooperating with this global investigation. If the perpetrators manage to find anywhere to hide, it won’t do them good for long. [This post has been officially approved by the Diplomatic Protection Authority for posting and lawful redistribution.]

Microstory 2044: Nevada

< > Table of Contents

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.

Microstory 1587: Nonstop

< > Table of Contents

Prompt

I found a treadmill on the side of the road, and started using it the next day. I could literally see the fat dripping off of my stomach as I was running.

Botner

A dude riding a bike passed me, looked at me, and said, “if you’re on there, you must be a junkie, you can’t be running.” Unfortunately, it took two months of running on that treadmill before my body could actually move again. I was basically incapacitated. I was barely able to stand or walk. But every time I went to the store, or a restaurant, I told people I was a military veteran. That was all I could remember—how to tell people I was in the military and that I had been hurt. People told me I needed to go to the VA for help, and I thought they were right. They were asking me if I was drunk, which at the time I was not. When I went to the VA, they said, “Well, we can’t give you any drugs because you haven’t been diagnosed. You just had your wrist blown off. But if you stop taking the treadmill, you’ll die.” They didn’t know what was going on with my brain. They were just looking at me like, “you’re scaring us. You need to get off of this machine.” That was the most dehumanizing...

Conclusion

...experience of my life, and I felt like crap for lying to people. I had never heard of stolen valor before, but I knew the whole time that it was wrong. I stopped telling the lie, but that wasn’t my most pressing problem. If I spend more than two days off of this treadmill, the fat I lost starts coming back. It comes back fast, like the frost on a windshield when the heater doesn’t work, and all you have is wiper fluid. It doesn’t stop either. When I first tried to take a break, I gained even more weight than I had when I started using the damn thing. Who would do this to me? Who would leave this cursed treadmill out there for anyone to pick up, knowing what it would do? I learn to run twice a day, just to be safe. I don’t have to run several miles, or anything, but I can’t leave it be for too long. It’s like the machine is a pet, and requires frequent attention, or it’ll start chewing up my shoes. I wish that those were the consequences. I would take a closet full of destroyed shoes over this nonstop life of running. The dude on the bike rides back up to my garage during my workout one day. “There’s a way to stop this from happening, you know. You can even keep all that fat off. All you have to do is give the treadmill to someone else.” What is he, the girl from The Ring? No, I’m not doing that, I’m not subjecting someone else to this horror. It ends here. It ends with me. But I’m not running anymore either. I take the treadmill out to the middle of an empty field, douse it with lighter fluid, and set the wretched thing on fire. I hope that ends the curse, but if it doesn’t, at least it won’t be able to hurt anyone else. The next day, the fat starts to return again, and it doesn’t stop. At my peak, I weigh 1,500 pounds. But then a funny thing happens. I start losing the weight again. It just rolls off me, and I have to take it out with the garbage. I’m happy for a while, satisfied that I broke the curse, but then I start to wonder if I did. Maybe the treadmill can’t be destroyed, and some other poor schmuck just happened to find it out in that field.

Microstory 1415: The Last Ditch

< > Table of Contents

There were two major factions that came to be when Springfield started trying to form a new society on Durus. They were completely cut off from Earth, and now the responsibility fell on them, and them alone, to survive. Some people followed Smith and his despotocracy, while others were loyal to Councilwoman Hardt. People on both sides at least liked her, so an all out war would have spelled trouble for everyone. Still, she was never able to maintain enough power to take control of the situation, and Smith ruled over everyone for years. He was the one who figured out how to protect everyone using the Baby Barrier, and that won him too many points to overcome, because even those on Hardt’s side knew they had to protect themselves from the monsters. Even within these two factions, there were those who were more peaceful, and those who were more violent. The latter wanted a war, believing that the winner would decide how things played out for the next several years. There seemed to be no doubt that the special children would grow up and lead them one day, but that wouldn’t be for a long time, so there was a lot of work to do until then. One subgroup decided after about three years of Smith’s rule that it was time for an official change in leadership. They started planning a coup, which they felt had to include Smith’s assasination. Now, there weren’t a lot of people with experience with this sort of thing. There were a few law enforcement officers, but they had all chosen Smith. Some in town were part of the military, but nearly all of them had died, because they were always first to place themselves in danger for the greater good. Only one veteran was still alive at this point, and he was pretty old, so while he could teach the would-be assassins how to carry out their mission, he wouldn’t be able to handle it himself. Either way, they needed to convince him to help the cause. He was quite reluctant, since he had left all that violence behind him, and he was never gung-ho about it in the first place. In the end, he agreed that a transfer of power was the only way to turn this town from a place of inequality, to a thriving community founded upon fairness.

Smith had too many people in his pocket, so instead of trying to get them all out, perhaps their only choice was to simply destroy the pocket. They had just spent this whole time trying to use reason, and it had gotten them nowhere. Violence was not ideal, but they had always considered it the last resort, and now they believed this was the moment to descend to it. They chose their best marksman, which wasn’t saying much with this lot, but it wasn’t like it would have been on Earth. There was no federal government to come down on them, or significant public outcry. The primary obstacle was going through with the act itself; not getting away with it afterwards. That wasn’t to say there wouldn’t be any fallout, but they felt prepared to deal with the aftermath, because justice was on their side. Unfortunately, conviction was not enough to make this work. Their assassin was caught, and sentenced to death by exile. She held strong, though, and did not give up any of her compatriots. Only she was ultimately punished for treason. Smith and his loyalists were twisted, but they were also cowards. No one was willing to execute her themselves, but if they forced her outside the protected perimeter, there was a chance she would survive, and that cleared their respective consciences, and gave them comfort, so they could sleep at night. Of course, intellectually, they knew there was no way she would last the week, because they were ignorant about how this world worked. Time monsters were drawn to people, but more than that, they were drawn to crowds. It was much easier for a single individual to move about the lands undetected. That didn’t mean the exile was completely safe, but she did survive, and their lack of follow through would prove to be Smith’s people’s downfall.

Microstory 1155: Jai Quelen

< > Table of Contents

When Jai Quelen was in the United States Army, he was always looking out for his fellow soldiers. Of course he did this in the physical sense, because he had a duty to do so, but he went beyond that, and protected their ethical standing. He was always concerned with filling out reports properly, and making sure the reality of a given situation was fully understood by those who were not there to witness it. This could have been annoying to them, but he wasn’t overbearing or nitpicky—he was a true advocate—so they were grateful for him. After he had served, he began college, and worked towards his undergraduate degree in Philosophy, with a focus on Ethics. Shortly before graduation, he was asked to participate in a presentation at a local middle school, to show kids that military service wasn’t only about guns and bombs. An eighth grader there named Cassidy Long took a liking to him, though of course, it was literally just a middle school crush. The feelings were not at all reciprocated, and in fact, Jai didn’t even notice she wasn’t really interested in service. He didn’t think much of it; meeting a 13-year-old when he was in his mid-20s, but he nearly killed himself when he encountered her again barely four years later—after she turned 18, and started working as a stripper—and developed feelings. He had moved on with his life by attending law school, earning his J.D. Degree, and then landing a job at Veterans Affairs. He wasn’t just surprised to see Cassidy again, but also that he recognized her. The age difference alone would have been enough to make him uncomfortable, but the fact that he knew her when she was so young was enough to push him over the edge. He had his service weapon against his temple when his roommate came home early, and got him some help. He spent a year in a mental health facility before he felt well enough to reenter the world. As it turned out, his attraction towards Cassidy was the least of his worries, and his counselors encouraged him to accept the fact that everyone who is at one point 18 years old was, at another point, also 13 years old. He moved on with his life yet again, deciding that the best thing to do was go back to school, and try to earn his PhD. Fate intervened once more, however, when he and Cassidy crossed paths a third and fourth time. He saw her in the grocery store, while she later noticed him in line for concessions at the movie theatre. They only learned of the coincidence when she connected with him on social media, and engaged him in conversation. Through all of this, Jai’s primary problem was loneliness. He was never that close with his family, and they did not approve of his career choices, which was how he ended up in Lawrence, Kansas in the first place. He finally let go of his hangups, and the two of them entered into a nonsexual exclusive relationship. They were living together, sharing rent and chores, and even sleeping in the same bed together, but they were not having sex. The nature of their unconventional relationship made things quite difficult for him when Cassidy disappeared from their temporary hotel room without a trace. Fortunately, that old roommate happened to be a practicing lawyer named Kyle K. Stanley.

Microstory 108: Verner Holt

Click here for the list of every Bellevue Profile.

As mentioned earlier, second generation anomalies were few and far between, though they did exist. Verner Holt was one of these. He was kept secret by his father, an early active member of Bellevue, for several years before being discovered, even though his ability didn’t manifest until just before. One morning, little Verner was walking down the street with his mother. A homeless veteran of war happened to be experiencing traumatic flashbacks in the alleyway up ahead. While his mother was waiting for a street vendor to complete the transaction, Verner broke away and approached the veteran. What he saw in there were enemy and friendly soldiers, battling in the trenches. He watched as the vet fought off a combatant and killed him with his bayonet. Even though he too could see the soldiers, he knew that they were hallucinations, and could no longer hurt anyone. Out of instinct, he approached the vet who was scared out of his mind, and comforted him by touch. Without saying a word, Verner was eventually able to somehow convey to the man that these were only memories, and that the war had long past. Luckily, before Verner’s mother found the alley where the two new friends were sitting, the hallucinations had depleted entirely. While he was not entirely cured of his post-traumatic stress disorder, what Verner did for him in that moment gave him the faculties and time he needed to contact Bellevue and report his miraculous encounter with the anomaly boy. Verner went on to enter the field of psychiatry, using his ability out in the open to treat severe neurological conditions. A side of effect of his profession was a cult-like following of former patients, grateful for having known the one and only person who could truly understand what they were going through.