Microstory 2370: Vacuus, September 13, 2179

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Dear Condor,

I don’t want you to get mad. Let me just say that right at the top, before you read any further. Remember that, DON’T. GET. MAD. I’m glad that I’ve been so busy, so I couldn’t respond to your letter to the base before my private letter from you came through anyway. And I’m glad that you sent it. What I’m not glad about is my current medical condition. I know that you didn’t want details about my love life, but I think the backstory is important, and I feel compelled to be honest about what’s going on with me, because things aren’t great, and I don’t want you to be in the dark. It also might have an impact on you, since there’s an apparent genetic component. Bray and I are going through a tough time. I don’t blame him, but he blames himself. Here’s the part you’re not gonna like. I contracted an STD. On its own, the virus wouldn’t be that big of a deal. Treatment for it is relatively simple and easy to synthesize these days. We’re living here with a small population, so we kind of have these ways of coordinating partnerships. Genetic diversity and health are more important, and harder to come by, on this planet. Anyway, they treated the virus, and I’m free from it now, but it appears that the inflammation awakened something in my body. They’re calling it an epigenetic disease, which I was likely born with. You were telling me about how you used to get sick as a child. Could you give me more details about what your signs and symptoms were? Could you, maybe...ask your father about it too? I don’t want to be pushy, but I think we need to know the truth. If there’s something in our cells that we inherited from him or mom, I think we have a right to that information. I should have asked about this kind of stuff before. I have always lacked my father’s side’s medical history. Mom said she filled out all the forms accordingly, and I trusted that before I learned about you. Those family background records were made when I was a child, and since I’m still using the same doctors as I was before, they haven’t needed updating in that regard, because the past doesn’t change! So I’ve never actually seen the records myself. She could have lied, or she didn’t know enough about Pascal’s family, and just did her best. I have lived my whole life in a controlled environment, which the doctors believe insulated me from developing symptoms before. That would make sense since you were just on Earth, where you would have been exposed to all sorts of chemicals, even before the gases were released. Just tell me anything you can, and anything Pascal says about it, if you can ask him nicely without getting mad.

Don’t be mad,

Corinthia

PS: Don’t be mad.

Microstory 2230: How Bad It Can Get

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A pattern has presented itself. His body has a new parasite now too, and it’s going after his organs. The doctors are desperately trying to stop it, but it’s gotten its grubby little appendages in everything; his heart, kidney, liver, and especially his lungs. You name it, it’s being attacked. He’s unresponsive at this point, but he managed to say one final thing. He basically wants to be put on display, to raise awareness for prion infections. The hospital board is currently weighing the issue. They’re not sure if he’s in his right mind, though. He’s still being kept alive, because he’s still full code, but at some point, that is not going to matter. His body will continue to decay, regardless of how they try to treat the problems. We still have no clue where these damn things are coming from. They must have been hiding in there before he went into the bubble, and the decline in health from the prion allowed them to rise up all at once. They will all be very surprised if he makes it through the next weekend. I’ll let you know via social if we begin to display him on a video feed, or something. It might sound unsettling, but I do believe that it’s what he wants. He wants you to see how bad it can get, so you can be more careful.

Microstory 2229: So Let Go

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I’m so distraught. We all are. I don’t know that I really wanna say anything here. Nick is currently fighting a war on three fronts. It was bad enough that he contracted a virus due to his weakened immune system, but now a bacterium has found its way into his body too. It probably happened at around the same time, because the odds of it happening after we took him back to the hospital are staggeringly low. He was placed in an isolation room, where only certain people could enter after being thoroughly processed, but that might not have been enough. Now he’s also in a plastic bubble as an added layer. So you still have to clean up to enter the room in the first place, but even then, you can’t touch him unless you use the glove ports on the sides. Anyway, this bacterial infection is just as bad, though it comes with new symptoms, which of course, makes it so much worse. Nausea, vomiting, and everything else that could go wrong with your stomach; that’s what’s happening to him right now. That’s on top of the fever, cough, and dizziness that he has from the virus. Honestly, I can’t believe that he’s still alive. It’s a miracle that he’s able to survive all this. The machines should only be able to do so much for him. At some point, your body just can’t take any more. But his is. He’s holding on for dear life. It’s almost like he’s waiting for something specific. You hear about that, where terminal patients won’t let go, because they have unfinished business, or they’re worried about their survivors. This should not be a problem for him, because everyone is going to be okay without him. He did a lot to start a new department in his company, a new project for the county, and maybe even a new movement. The world will keep turning without him, driven if only partially by the contributions that he has already made. I see him as a spark that will light the fire, and it will be up to the rest of us to keep the flames going. So Nick, this post is to you. You can go now. You don’t have to suffer anymore. Go find out what’s on the other side of the veil. We’ll miss you, and we wish that you could stay, but the pain must have reached the point of being unbearable. So let go, and finally rest in peace. I promise to keep this site going at least through your memorial services.

Microstory 2228: More Advanced Care Now

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Nick is back in the hospital, and this is where he’ll stay for the rest of his life. It seems that we were too quick to decide that he was capable of staying at home. We weren’t back in the apartment for more than a few hours before he started having some real problems. His temperature was going up each time I checked it, eventually reaching a full fever. Soon after that, he started coughing, and feeling dizzy even though he was just lying in bed. The nurse had already left for the evening, but I called her back, and she agreed that he couldn’t stay there untreated anymore. For a normal healthy individual, these symptoms could be treated on their own using over-the-counter remedies, but Nick is in a really vulnerable position. He requires round-the-clock care, and the kind that I’m not qualified to provide. They conducted rapid blood tests, and confirmed that it’s a virus. Again, a normal person might be able to fight it off on their own, or get some medication after a quick doctor’s visit, but that’s not enough for him. He’s hooked up to machines, which are monitoring him for a team of top-notch medical professionals. But where does that leave me? I know that, when you add it all up, I’ve not known him for very long, but we’ve grown pretty close in that time. I’ve seen sides of him that no one else has. So I can’t just leave, even though he has more advanced care now. There’s a protocol for this situation. It’s called a “hand-off”. And I’ve officially done that, though I am still here, just now as a friend, which is what our relationship was when we were co-workers. He doesn’t have any real family in this world, so I’m going to do what I can to make him feel safe and comfortable, even though it’s not my job anymore.

Microstory 2219: It is Always Fatal

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I might try to say more tomorrow, but today is not a good time to spend a lot of time curating a good post. We’re reeling from today’s news. We knew that it was bad. I mean, just look at him; it had to be bad. But we didn’t know quite how bad. There are five types of infections. When Nick first arrived in this universe, he contracted a virus, and shortly thereafter, he got a bacterial infection. These might be the two most common. There are some people who just get the cold every year, whether they take a vaccine for it or not. Fungal infections are fairly common too, and they often go untreated, because symptoms are sometimes rather mild, albeit fairly gross. He also managed to suffer from a fungus when he used some unclean showers in Iowa, but before that, a parasite took hold of him when he was exposed to the wrong plant at the nursery where he worked. All of this happened during the first quarter of this year, and he thought that he was out of the woods for a while. Sadly, that has turned out to not be true, though we didn’t know until today that the disease that he has is yet another infection. You see, all four of the types of infections that you’re familiar with can potentially be deadly. None of them is totally safe. But there is a fifth type that you have probably never even heard of, and the worst part about it is that it is always fatal. It’s called a prion, and while some prion diseases can be treated to some degree, they are the least understood class. The good news (or bad, depending on how you look at it), is that everything I’ve been doing with him has been everything that the doctor would have ordered had he diagnosed this before. Managing symptoms is the only possibly helpful course of action. Now that he knows that it’s there, he can study it more, and tweak some of Nick’s medications, but that’s about it. The horrible truth is that he is going to die from this. He may have a few months to live, but the doctor doesn’t see him making it through the New Year. I’ve written more than I planned on. I better end it here, so I can get back to taking care of him. We’ll see how much time I have tomorrow, or if I’m even emotionally up to it.

Microstory 2130: Not Lookin’ Good For Me

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Things are not good. At first, I thought I just overdid it with all the walking and shopping yesterday, and that surely exacerbated the issue, but that is not what’s making me sick. It couldn’t be. Exercise might make you nauseated, and certainly tired and sore, but my symptoms are a lot worse than that. I was restless all night last night. I’m not sure if I got any sleep, but I was pretty out of it the whole time. Things started to come back to me as more time passed after waking up, reminding me that I never truly got any sleep, though I wasn’t ever fully conscious either. I was sweating throughout, and coughing regularly. There’s a rash kind of all over my body that I think I’ve probably had for a few days now, but didn’t give much thought to before. I was really hot and chilly at the same time this morning, so I was guessing that I had a fever, but at no point during my shopping did I think to buy myself a thermometer. I first took a shower to clear myself up, but that did no good, so I filled up the tub, and let the steam wrap me up. Then I had to shower again, because that’s what you gotta do. It was a relief while I was in the water, but it didn’t last one second on the bathmat. I knew that I had to do something to actively fix this, so I called my parole officer, who basically ordered me to go to the pharmacy down the street. They have a clinic there for quick visits, which are only meant to give you an idea of what’s wrong. They don’t provide treatment, but they can give you recommendations. They’re quite certain that I have an infection, though they can’t tell me whether it’s bacterial, viral, or parasitic again. They sent my blood to a lab, but that could take time to process, as you can imagine. I don’t have any insurance yet, so I can’t go to a regular doctor, but fortunately, I’m a felon! That means the state has to provide me with minimal medical care. I’m going to the jail an hour and a half early to speak with the medical staff there. We still need to figure out what this means, because regardless of my specific diagnosis, it’s not lookin’ good for me. I’m likely contagious, and can’t be allowed to roam around the general population. The solitary cells aren’t equipped to handle me either. Even if all I need is water and rest, it’s a legal issue to just throw me in a hole, and let me fend for myself. The prison that’s about an hour away has a special medical ward, but I’m really hoping that they don’t make me go there. I know that I won’t really be in prison, but it’s close enough that I don’t want to do it. My parole officer is looking into house arrest options, or just a postponement of my sentence, but they’ve already accommodated me for a lot, so I don’t like my chances.

Microstory 2103: My New Dirty Job

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I’ve been looking for work. Unlike when I was in Kansas City, and in my past life, I no longer have standards. I used to have certain limitations, which stopped short of cleaning, food preparation or distribution, and interacting with people too much. I think I’m going to still shy away from that last one, since I don’t need to be exposing my wanted face to a whole bunch of people every day. I’m also not good at smiling, whether it’s real or fake. I can grimace. If you need someone to grimace awkwardly, and make everyone in the room feel incredibly uncomfortable, I am your man. What I don’t like about the other two things is that my health and sanitation standards are higher than anyone else’s. That sort of stuff is hard to be around, because it will never be good enough for me, and people find that rather annoying, if you can believe it. But ya know, you don’t know how to wear gloves. You seem to think that makes you impervious to cross-contamination, but that’s not how it works. If you pick up a big piece of poop, throw it in the toilet, and then go back to fixing my sandwich, you’ve just put poop in that sandwich. I don’t really care that it didn’t get on your hands, do I? That was never my concern. Of course, this is an exaggeration, but it’s plausible, since most people seem to think that clothing is some magical barrier that prevents bacteria and viruses from being transmitted, but I’m here to tell you that it’s not. Trust me. I know pathogens. I suppose that all has more to do with food, which is why cleaning doesn’t bother me as much. I mean, it really bothers me, but I can immerse myself in it, and then come out clean on the other side. This temporary place where I’m staying has a perfect system for me, especially with my new dirty job. I’m a janitor, which is kind of always where I thought I would end up. Now all I need is to become an unarmed security guard, and I will be able to check everything off my list of jobs I either wanted, or thought I would have to take. This isn’t so bad. I can clean myself off at the end of the day in the group showers, and then step right into the tub shower. That way, I don’t have to dirty up the tub. I know that sounds like overkill to you, but I prefer it. The washer and dryer combo unit are right there too, which allows me to clean my uniform every night before I have to use it again the next day. It’s not glamorous, but it will get me by...for now.

Microstory 2101: I Won’t Live a Lie

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I’m out! I’m hiding from the authorities...somewhere. For obvious reasons, I’m not going to tell anyone where I am. When I first showed up in this universe, I didn’t have any identity, so instead of finding one on the black market, I procured it through the proper channels. It wasn’t as hard as I thought it would be, but I’ve ruined it now. I had no choice. I got a parasitic infection, which messed up my brain, and started making me act crazy. After the body doctors cleared it all up, the mind doctors came in, and tried to convince me that everything I’ve been doing and saying has been crazy, and they wanted to keep me there for psychological treatment. The little committee I had to talk to twice before I could be released from the hospital brought up the discrepancy in the timeline. If I was infected in early February, why is it that I’ve been talking about being a bulk traveler on my blog pretty much this entire time? Well, some of them argued that the viral and bacterial infections I had before that could explain all that away. Others argued that maintaining the same symptoms across three completely different infections didn’t make much medical sense, and I don’t know everything that they talked about after I left the room, but in the end, I got out of there. It wasn’t enough, though. I was living around people who didn’t believe me, and didn’t trust me, and I couldn’t stay there anymore. I’ll always be grateful to my landlord, and my boss, and I know that none of this was their fault, but I have my reasons. I spent years pretending to be someone I’m not. I pretended to not be autistic. I pretended to be straight. I pretended to like Blink-182! I won’t do that anymore. I won’t live a lie. Even if I have to sleep in squalor, I’m going to live my truth from now on. So long, Boreverse Kansas City, I’ll never forgive you for the way you treated me. Now more than ever, I know that my only goal in life should be to get the hell out of this universe. Even if I never find my friends again, at least I won’t have to deal with you people anymore. For those of you reading this who are on my side, don’t you worry about me getting caught. I’ve got that covered. Some friends helped me set up a shadow workstation. As long as I always post from the cage, I can’t be traced, and as long as I don’t mention any specifics about my location, I can’t be found. I have to go now. I booked a boat ride on the Chicago River. As I said before, don’t look for me. I’m a ghost.

Microstory 2090: Still Delusional

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The doctor is allowing me to write one blog post, assuring my readers that I am not an alien from another universe, and everything I’ve been posting this year has been an attempt to make myself seem more interesting, and gain followers. I was born to this world, just like everyone else. Everything that I have been doing for the last few days has been the result of an illness that I experienced from the nursery. Earlier this year (when I came to town, but not when I first came to this planet, because I was born on this planet) I got sick from a virus. As I was recovering, I got a bacterial infection. More recently, due to my exposure to certain plants where I work, I contracted a parasitic infection. Of course, other people were exposed to the same thing, but I was immunocompromised, so it hit me harder. If I were still delusional, I may tell you that I believe I was indeed infected by a parasite, but that the main reason I was susceptible was because I’m originally from another Earth, where we don’t necessarily have such parasites. Now I know I’m not. I’m from here, and I’m being treated right now. I should be back to myself in no time, and no longer have the compulsion to go to random points on the map to destroy portals to other worlds. I’m sorry for anyone who has been worried about me. I didn’t mean to scare anyone. I was sick, and not in my right mind. I trust my doctors, and I know that they have my best interests at heart. Once I’m released from the hospital, my landlord says that I still absolutely have a home to go back to. Unfortunately, I will no longer be able to work at the plant nursery. It’s too dangerous for me. My weakened immune system may be a permanent issue. There is no way to know yet. My support system, though, which includes my soon-to-be-ex boss, is stronger than ever. They have all promised to help me find something better; maybe something with conditioned air. I don’t know what that could be. Since I’m not actually from another universe—where I had a life for three decades—I don’t have any work experience to speak of, so what even am I qualified for? I guess that’s a problem for tomorrow. Tonight, I just need to sleep, and let the medicines do their job. I’m glad to finally be getting better. Thank you all for being patient and understanding with me as I navigate this difficult time.

Microstory 2061: Anyway, I’m Taking Some Drugs

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If you’ve been following my microblog, you know that I got sick again. It’s not even the same thing. The first one was a virus that I can’t pronounce, but this one is a bacterium that I can’t pronounce. I guess my immune system was in shambles for so long that something else managed to get in there before I closed up shop. I should have known. It’s definitely happened to me before. I just forget these things. The thing about being immortal is it doesn’t change your brain chemistry. It’s a purely physiological situation. It’s pretty much impossible to study the condition, because no one could ever take my blood, or anything, but I think that one of the downsides is an inability to improve in certain ways. I could never get stronger. Lifting weights, doing cardio, none of it mattered. Exercise didn’t make me feel better (it also didn’t make me feel worse at least). Nothing could change. The brain isn’t a muscle, but I think it suffers from the same limitations. I could gain new memories, of course, but I couldn’t really grow as a person. Anyway, I’m taking some drugs besides the antibiotics, so I’m not sure if I’m making any sense, but basically what I’m saying is my memory sucks. People would always tell me I should keep a diary to remind myself of my own history, but I would always forget to do it, so that never really worked. I’m surprised at how diligent I’ve been about this. Don’t expect me to keep going. If it’s anything like my previous attempts, I’ll stop by the end of the month. The only thing more boring than this world is talking about my personal experiences with it. Nick Fisherman IV, signing off. Oh, wait. Did I never tell you what my name was before? Oh my God, that’s kind of funny. Maybe I’ll explain where the name comes from, and what makes me the fourth out of four. It’s not anywhere near as simple as that my father was the third, and so on up the bloodline. It’s more like how they name kings.

Microstory 1943: Testing and Training

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Ochivar Lieutenant: Please, don’t shoot. We surrender.

Myka: They’re real. Oh my God, they’re actually real. Reese, aliens are real.

Reese: Are you the one in charge?

Ochivar Lieutenant: No. They sent me out here in case you’re the type to shoot first and ask questions later. The important people; the Admiral and Captain, are waiting for you in the room.

Reese: What room? What is it for? What is this place? What are you doing in our universe? How long have you been here?

Ochivar Lieutenant: That explains how you found us so fast. You have already encountered my kind, haven’t you? You were probably waiting.

Leonard: We devised a means of detecting your arrival.

Reese: Don’t tell it anything.

Leonard: Sorry.

Reese: Take us to your leader. *chuckles* Always wanted to say that.

Ochivar Lieutenant: Follow me.

Myka: Stay out here and stand guard, Freewoman 2.

Ochivar Admiral: Hello, humans. Welcome to our testing and training facility. I am the Admiral. This here is my Captain, and his Lieutenant.

Reese: Testing and training. What does that mean? It was impossible to navigate through here, but this is the only door we’ve seen so far. It looks a little small to stage an army. Are you manufacturing your virus, or something?

Ochivar Admiral: Limerick’s heart, no. It’s nothing of the sort. You see, we were once much like you. We were young and hopeful. We developed technology, and we took over our world. Things seemed to be going okay, until we realized that we were destroying everything at the same time. Of course, that was none of us; it was our ancestors who ruined our home planet. They survived it, though, and were determined to fix things. We found a way out of our universe, and into others. And what we saw was history repeating itself. We decided we didn’t want to see anyone go down the same path that we did. The fact that the majority of intelligent species we’ve met have been human is something that has always been out of our hands, so please don’t mistake our actions as racist or xenophobic. We understand that our methods may sound distasteful, but we believe that sterilizing doomed species is the most ethical and humane option possible. We’ve seen what populations do when left to their own devices. We went through it ourselves.

Leonard: Who are you to judge? Having power does not give you the right.

Ochivar Admiral: Oh, but it does. That’s all power is; having the right by strength of force, and unchallengeable status. But we needn’t argue. Like I said, this is a testing and training facility. We are not here to sterilize you. We’ve studied your people, and you are right on track to a healthy and respectful relationship with your planet. We are not monsters. We apologize for any distress our arrival has caused, but we chose this as a site to test our anti-detection procedures. Obviously they need work.

Freewoman 2: Hey, Myka. Freewoman 3 came down. We’ve got company. It’s an operative, trying to run the injured wanderer maneuver on us. How should we proceed?

The Advancement of Mateo Matic: March 4, 2399

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As an extra step of precaution, Mateo and Taraboda were asked to stay in separate level of quarantine just for them for a full day. This is a process that everyone who goes in and out of that place has to deal with, including the everyday soldiers. He’s fine with it, but it would be a lot to deal with on a regular basis, especially to coordinate. The government has not encountered a single new case of the virus, even from the three who came through the portal before it closed, but they’re still deeply concerned. They still don’t know how it causes its symptoms, or how to cure it. They haven’t even had time to devise a vaccine. This area is going to be the way it is, or worse, for a long time.

While Mateo was waiting, he found himself with a lot of time to think. Alyssa was brainwashed, and has commanded the Omega Gyroscope to halt all forms of temporal manipulation, advanced bodily upgrades, and similar anomalies. This was already a thing before, but there were loopholes. The rules are far stricter now, preventing Mateo from even communicating with his wife’s consciousness that should be somewhere in his brain. Had they not done that, he might have just let it all go, but if whoever did this didn’t want him to be an enemy, they should have been a little more lax.

He, Tarboda and Heath are on their way to Aotearoa now, where Mangroves Eleven, Twenty-Four, and Forty-Two were built. They’re flying into Eleven, the rocket of which will be launched soon. Mateo is going to be on it, so when he breaks free from the Gyroscope’s...scope, Leona should come back. From there, he’ll transfer her consciousness out of his body, and into Alyssa’s old body, and then he hasn’t come up with a plan beyond that, because he’s not as smart as she is. Winona has been hounding him for an explanation for why one of her secret tactical teams thinks they sort of remember a member of their team who never existed, but he can’t help them. Leona may be able to answer that question, and more. Now, she might have been killed when Alyssa turned the Gyroscope up to eleven, or she is in another dimension, or stuck in the 1950s. Regardless, Mateo has to try something. He has to leave Earth.

A man greets them on the tarmac when they land. G’day, folks. My name is Hemi, and I’ll be your pilot today. Are we ready to shoot on through, or does anyone need anything here?”

They look over at Heath, but he doesn’t know why. “Well, it’s just that you and Tarboda have been in space an equal amount, but Tarboda is a pilot, so...”

“I’m fine,” Heath replies. “I want to be involved. I want to show Marie that I’m okay. Let’s get on up there.”

“Perfect. Yeah, I did hear that you’ve done this before, but I don’t care about those other times. I still have to go over a few rules. We all wanna be safe, don’t we?”

“Yeah,” they agree in approximate unison.

After the briefing, Hemi takes them into the rocket to launch. They don’t see a single other person on the base. It’s Aldona who counts them down remotely from Balikpapan. One thing is that Mateo isn’t used to all the g-forces from having to break out of Earth’s gravity well. Aldona installed whatever crazy futuristic technology prevents them from feeling it, but it’s not working under Alyssa’s Gyroscope regime. Even so, they make it into orbit, and he tries to reach inward for Leona, but she’s not answering. None of his upgrades are working yet either. “We need to go higher.”

Microstory 1789: Kendall Cole

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Kendall Cole is one sick puppy; not evil, per se, but certainly not a good person. She loves to start trouble, and she is a master at it. She knows how to manipulate others into doing what she wants, and not even for her own gain. Well, she appears to gain the joy of watching people squirm, but she isn’t otherwise benefiting from all this conflict. At least, it doesn’t seem like it gets her anything else. She just likes to watch people in pain, and her parents were always worried that this would translate into something really bad and violent when she grew up. Therapy didn’t help. Socialization didn’t help. Nothing did her any good. If there was an opportunity to make people feel bad, and get away with it, she would do it. As she grew up, however, she got better at causing trouble in secret, leading her parents to believe that she had learned to change her ways. She stopped getting in trouble at school, because of how good she was at convincing others to become the agents of chaos, so she never really learned what consequences were. No one gave her any real reason to improve herself, so she never did, and she never regretted it either. Kendall didn’t become a serial killer, or anything, though. That much could be said of her. She just liked to undermine people at work, especially her boss, and make the job unnecessarily harder on others. A missing file here, an anonymously forwarded private email there. She didn’t limit herself to her real workplace. She once took a second job at a family planning manufacturer. She deliberately tampered with thousands of pregnancy tests to make them all show up as positive, no matter what. She timed it according to a co-worker’s tenure at the company, and framed him for the crime. No one ever suspected her, and bonus, she made a little extra money.

She might have said that sabotage was her middle name, except then that would be admitting to others what she was, and that would have ruined all the fun. Her power came from her invisibility, and no one could ever know that she was behind all of this turmoil. Someone took notice once when she gaslit an entire apartment complex into believing that a virus was spreading through the gas lines. She tricked them all into shutting off their gas, and quarantining themselves in the building for an entire week before the children of one of the tenants grew suspicious, and reached out to the CDC. She didn’t set one foot on the premises, and no one could have possibly connected her to it. A self-proclaimed “mastermind with genius-level intellect” felt compelled to investigate on his own by looking into who had contacted the building manager. He traced the call to a payphone, then phished his way into reviewing the security cameras of the convenience store next to it, where he witnessed who he thought to be the culprit making that call. Using facial recognition software that he bought for a steep price on the internet, he figured out the woman’s identity. He began to stalk her to find out what her motivation was, and whether she did other things like it. He never saw a damn thing, and he became impatient with the whole matter. He decided to give her a taste of her own medicine by killing her on paper. He notified her place of business that she was dead. He cancelled all of her credit cards. He informed her parents that she was gone. He identified a Jane Doe as her in the morgue. The authorities found him rather quickly, and arrested him for fraud, harassment, and a number of other charges. He only received one visitor in prison. It was Kendall Cole, there to gloat about how she had tricked him into ruining a completely innocent person’s life, as well as his own.

Microstory 1773: Scorpion Unifier

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The virus got out. The intergalactic Martian faction that hates us for surviving in this solar system when their ancestors could not, attacked us with the same pathogen that nearly destroyed them millions of years ago. Fortunately, we were not unprepared for that to happen. We had just gotten over a practice run, from a disease that many in our population were resistant to. We were able to learn from our mistakes, and by the time a worse threat showed up, we knew what to do. We knew how to self-quarantine. We knew how to protect our most vulnerable. We knew how to hunt for treatments. We also had a lot of help from a faction of good Martians, who did not want to see life on Earth eradicated. Armed with all of this experience, and these resources, we fought back against the Scorpion Virus. The people who refused to believe in either pandemic didn’t last very long, and the rest of us were able to move on without them. The angry aliens didn’t think we would do so well, so they decided to change tactics. They mounted a full assault, forcing their opponents to come out of the shadows, and help us protect ourselves. We experienced a quantum leap in technology, and had to fight back again. Orbital defenses, interstellar ships, weapons of mass destruction. We did it to survive, but it would come at a great cost. War solves no problems, but it sure can create new ones. We were poised to make both species go extinct. Something had to be done to put a stop to it. Neither side was willing to relent, and that’s when the others showed up. When the virus first came about on Mars, two exodus ships were launched to ensure the continuity of the species. One of them went off to a new galaxy, but the other disappeared without telling the others where they would be going. As it turned out, they remained nearby, on a planet located only a few hundred light years away.

The Milky Way Martians, as they are called to distinguish them, came out of the woodwork about a year ago, and admitted that they had been following the goings on of both of our cultures the entire time. They knew that life evolved on Earth, and they knew what their intergalactic counterparts were up to. They instituted a policy of noninterference, but a new administration decided to take the government in a new direction. They basically demanded we halt all hostilities towards each other, and since they were so much more advanced than both of us combined, we had no real choice. Things have been fine between us ever since, but that is not going to last forever. Calling it a period of peace implies that there will be an end to it. As long as we look at them as other, and they us, neither of us can hope to prosper. The only way to prevent the war is to merge as one. Then there will be no one left to fight. So that is why we’re here. Everyone on this ship has fallen in love with a member of the other species. Through a little bit of genetic miracle work, we can actually have children with each other. We don’t even have to engineer the offspring itself. A simple injection makes a human more Martian, and a Martian more human. We’ve come together in a place of compatibility, and spawned a new species altogether. You’ll never guess how we figured out how to do it. It all comes back to that Scorpion Virus. It’s capable of changing its victim DNA, so we were able to harness that, and use it towards our own goals. I’m asking you to spread the word about us. Tell them. Tell them what you saw here today. Tell them something good has come out of that deadly pathogen. Tell them the war never has to happen.

Microstory 1678: Scorched

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Most of the time, the Ochivari don’t have to worry about engaging in some kind of physical conflict with the civilizations that they choose to destroy with their sterility virus. If the people find out what has happened to them, it’s not like they can really do anything about it. They still don’t have the ability to travel the bulkverse, so all the Ochivari agents have to do is leave the universe, and be fine. Of course, they still have to fight in the Darning Wars against people who actually do have the ability to travel between universes, but the allies don’t generally recruit from worlds that have been attacked, because they’re still contagious, so it’s too dangerous to interact with them on any level. There are rare cases, however, when the Ochivari feel compelled to stay on a world they’ve sterilized, because they have no other choice. One such instance is probably the worst offender in their eyes. The people of this particular planet were somehow actively anti-environment. They somehow managed to develop highly advanced technology while simultaneously destroying the ecosystem. For the most part, a civilization is unsustainable if it relies too heavily on non-renewable energy sources. It’s not really that they’ll run out of fossil fuels, or whatever, but they’ll damage the atmosphere too much before they even have a chance to move on to something better. Chemical rockets are fine for getting off the surface, entering orbit, and exploring the solar system across decades. They’re not good for anything beyond that. You pretty much have to have fusion if you want to reach the stars on reasonable timescales. Furthermore, because civilizations don’t usually hyperfocus on one technology, if you don’t eventually come up with fusion, there are probably many other key developments that you’ll never figure out either, and that is liable to spell your doom.

The people of this world weren’t trying to do things more efficiently, and not only did they not care about the environment, they seemed to despise it. They didn’t want to live in harmony with the world; they wanted to consume it. They didn’t even see it as waste. They would manufacture an aluminum can, drink something out of it, and throw it away. If it was used once, that was good enough, and they could move onto something else. Being able to throw things away, and never use them again, gave them joy. So it was no surprise when the Ochivari came to end them. This didn’t work out so well. The people didn’t figure out fusion, but they did invent ion drives, so they used rockets to free themselves from the planet’s gravity well, and from there, they could go anywhere. They also figured out how to upload their consciousness into android substrates, so no, they wouldn’t be able to birth new generations, but they would live on. And they could keep destroying; their homeworld, and all others they find. To them, there was an endless supply of planets that were specifically created for their use. The Ochivari knew they had to stay, and devise a computer virus that could wipe the new species out. This didn’t work out either, as any virus would only be able to destroy one of the many, many different android models out there. With that no longer a decent option, the Ochivari just had to resort to straight up war. They could no longer save the original planet, but they could protect all future colonies. They sent a whole fleet of warships to take down their most annoying of foes, but of course, the former humans had been preparing for that this entire time, and they were a force to be reckoned with.

Microstory 1676: Life Returned

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The lone survivor of a universe that was attacked by the Ochivari with their sterility virus left to start a new life. He was destined to die on his world with everyone else. While the virus wasn’t strong enough to work on him, there was no one else to procreate with, so it was no place for him. He wanted to fall in love, and start a family, and since he was capable of doing that, I decided to help him. I ended up dropping him off in Salmonverse, in a particularly advanced reality. He could live on any number of the billions of populated worlds there, and in fact, ultimately become immortal. The wonders there were limitless, so I figured it was a good place for him to settle down. He did meet someone there, and that woman bore him a child. They named him Amulet, and while he went through his own medical struggles, they eventually figured it out, and moved on. Lochan would come to spend over two decades here, which was longer than he had ever lived on his homeworld, so really, this was home now. Still, he wished to return to where he was from, and Amulet wanted to see where his father had grown up. Unfortunately, the sterility virus was too dangerous. When a universe is exposed to it, travel to and from becomes utterly irresponsible. I could not allow him to go see his family and friends. I could, however, allow him to see the world as it would become later. Once every host of the virus is dead, the virus dies as well, leaving the planet to move on from the dark period of history. It was perfectly safe for a visit after that. It wasn’t a great option, but it was all they were going to get. There was no other way.

When Lochan and his family made the journey, the world was in ruins. War had spread over the lands, and destroyed everything. There was nothing to see here. I told them as much before they left, but they insisted on seeing it for themselves. They had to know what the Ochivari did, and what the allies were fighting for. They stood there in silence as the Strongbox flew over the fallen cities. Not everything was destroyed, though. They never went to nuclear war, so the atmosphere was perfectly breathable, and there was still plenty of land teeming with life. The family touched down on a little patch of paradise, and stayed there alone for several months, because this planet was just as good as any when all the ruins were out of sight anyway. They didn’t want to be alone forever, but they felt connected to this world now, and they didn’t want to leave either. So they returned to Salmonverse temporarily, and put out a message that anyone could read. Hundreds of thousands of people responded to it, but it wouldn’t be that easy. Theoretically, the Ochivari would never return to a universe they already thought they had cleared out. If too many people were alerted that it was repopulated at some point, the whole disaster could just happen again. They had to keep it a secret. So we started transporting people via the Strongbox, which can’t hold too many passengers at once, but time is irrelevant when you have a time machine, and most of the immigrants were immortal. In what was essentially an instant, humans were back in this universe. The Ochivari successfully killed off its original inhabitants, but they couldn’t end all of humanity. It will always survive. I’m only telling you this, because a permanent military contingency has been installed in this universe, which will hold back any attack from any outside threat. They will continue to survive.

Microstory 1672: The Last Wars

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After the two surviving Ochivari left the first universe they went to—or rather after one of them escaped, and the other was killed in the attempt—things started to get worse for the humans. They were devastated to learn that aliens were bad. Of course, they had only encountered three individuals, which is hardly a decent sample size, but they were convinced. Each country started bolstering its military might. Some allies tried to form joint militaries, but for the most part, they stayed separate. In other universes I’ve witnessed, when a culture encounters some kind of massive external threat, the people generally come together. They set aside their differences, and focus on defeating the enemy together. This did not happen here, but if it had, it may have saved their lives. For years, they sat like this. People were conscripted into the various branches of their respective military forces, but didn’t have anything to do. Unlike other versions of Earth, this one had never experienced a world war before, but it wasn’t really because they were more peaceful than anyone else. They usually tried to settle their issues diplomatically, but if that didn’t work, two civilizations might have resorted to war. If that happened, if they wanted to fight against each other, everyone else stayed out of it most of the time. The boredom and frustration was really getting to them now, though. All global conflicts were put on hold in order to prepare for the return of the aliens, but nothing happened. The Ochivari had never come on purpose, and they had no reason to show up now, especially not since they knew where the timeline was headed. They knew that the humans were destined to destroy themselves, without a sterility virus. After eight years, the signs of the apocalypse were beginning to present themselves.

For no apparent reason but they didn’t feel like they had anything better to do, the nations started fighting each other. It wasn’t the leadership so much as it was the conscripts, who felt cheated out of the time they could have spent with their families. If these former civilians had to put so much effort into learning warfare skills, then goddammit, they were going to use them. It was like a global barfight, where some people started fighting just because someone carelessly bumped into them. Country A was trying to get to Country B when Country C got in the way, so Country C fought back, but accidentally hit Country D instead. It was a huge mess, and obviously, no one won in the end. Fortunately, they had never developed nuclear weapons, because history didn’t suggest there would be any need to bomb more than one enemy at the same time, so it just seemed like a waste of resources, when nuclear power was a far more useful pursuit. They kept killing though. It turned out to be one of the bloodiest wars I have ever seen. No, it probably is indeed the bloodiest. Internal conflicts started springing up when soldiers found themselves unable to get to someone from another country. Literal neighbors started killing each other when the supply chain broke down, and there wasn’t enough food to go around. Where once they numbered in the billions, over the course of the next two decades the population dwindled to the thousands. They pretty much only stopped killing each other, because survivors were so few and far between, and they were composed mostly of people who had always tried to stay out of it, and had succeeded. Civilization never recovered from this. Those survivors eked out a living amongst the ruins, but could not significantly grow from there. Many didn’t even bother trying to propagate the species, and after several decades more, the human species went extinct.

Microstory 1671: Life Beyond the Sea

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People are happy in Floasterverse. They love living on the ocean, being able to be as close to the water as they want. Some people live on artificial islands that are so large that they can’t even tell the difference between that, and regular land. It doesn’t have everything, though. Namely, it doesn’t have trains, and it doesn’t have beaches. Once everyone was relocated to the island system, people realized what they were missing. So while the robots were busy deconstructing the land cities of old, others were building new structures. More advanced and luxurious resorts were built on the natural beaches, which was kind of impossible to do on a floating island, as the entire point was that it was technically mobile. Similarly, a new train network was laid on every continent. They didn’t need to connect all the cities together, which was the purpose of the trains of yesterday, but they did want people to be able to enjoy nature as they passed by. It went all around the world in an extremely long loop, but it stopped regularly to let people on and off, in case they didn’t want to ride the whole thing, or simply didn’t have time. There were other things that people couldn’t do on the islands, or which would be too difficult to construct. These included camping, skiing, and freshwater activities. Still, this did not change their minds. These destinations were just for vacation. They almost always returned to the sea after they were finished. Even after having reached the technological singularity, and finding themselves with no more need for human labor, people considered the seasteads their permanent homes, and the vacation spots temporary places to enjoy themselves before getting back to their lives. As I said before, this universe did not fall victim to the Ochivari’s sterility virus, and did not have to involve themselves in the Darning Wars. But it was more than that. They became a profoundly peaceful race, and were perfectly capable of managing their population on a plateau, so they never felt the need to colonize other worlds. They strung up satellites to protect the planet against impact events, and the like. Then they spent the rest of the time just...living free.

Microstory 1666: Guardian Dolphins

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There was a pod of dolphins. They lived in the sea. They understood that the humans who came in their boats came to see them. So they would always put on a show. They breached the surface often, even when they didn’t need air, and they would occasionally perform flips. They could hear the cheers and applause that came from the boats, and they enjoyed it. One day, the tourists stopped coming with their boats. The seas calmed, and the quiet took over. There was no more cheering, no more applause. The dolphins just slept, and looked for food, and played amongst themselves. Two of the dolphins were curious and concerned. What had happened to the humans? Surely they would still want to see the creatures. They could not have all simply decided to stop all at once. The humans and the dolphins had long enjoyed a special relationship, with the latter always being around to lend a flipper when the former was in need. Something terrible could have happened to them, and if that was the case, they needed to know about it. The two friends went on a journey to find answers. They swam up the coast, trying to find humans who could explain their absence. The journey was proving to be longer than they thought, but they did not give up. They had to know if something was wrong. Perhaps they could help. Finally they found some people on the cliffs, but they seemed unable to communicate with them. Some humans can understand dolphin language, but most cannot. That would prove to be the most difficult challenge. They continued their pursuit of their truth, eventually coming across a lone fisherman in a small boat, who appeared to only catch enough for himself to eat. He could understand them, and he explained that a great disease was spreading through the world, killing some, and making the rest sick. The dolphins were saddened. They could not fix this problem. They did not have scientists of their own. Heck, while they could understand it conceptually, they couldn’t even make fire. Yet they still wanted to help in some way. They kept swimming around, meeting other people, and asking whether there was anything they could do, but there was nothing. They had always considered it there purpose to help the humans. After all, they were known as a guardian race. They had helped vessels find their way in the darkness, and even signalled to civilization when a traveler from a wreck was trapped on a remote island. This was something they were ill-equipped to handle, though. People started joking that they were out of their depth. They laughed quite a bit, actually, at the possibility that there was anything the water-dwellers could do. In the end, the humans had no choice but to deal with the issue themselves. Frustrated by this, the two dolphins switched missions, and began to commune with other dolphin pods, spreading the word that the humans no longer needed their help at all. It was then that the dolphins of all species began to discuss their future in the global collective. They ultimately decided to stop being a guardian race, so they could focus on their own prosperity. The humans, meanwhile, lost out on their opportunities to enjoy watching the dolphins play.

Microstory 1635: Isoverse

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I already told you about Floaterverse, where just about everyone on Earth lives on artificial floating islands. Isoverse is similar to that, but taken to an extreme extreme. I didn’t repeat myself, the first extreme is an adjective, and the second a noun. The Floaters still maintain their communities, they’re just modular. They can shift them around, which serves to promote a global community. The Isoversals, on the other hand, stay almost completely separate from each other, and they do it in space. Civilization started out normal, but quickly diverged, both socially, and scientifically. Advancement became an obsession for these people, and contrary to popular belief, this is not normal. For centuries, most versions of Earth will develop technology quite slowly, necessity being the mother of invention, and all. Most will not form a drive to push forward regardless of true need until much later. Coupled with religious hangups, this can hold progress back rather well. These same obstacles happened to the Isoversals as well, but unlike others, it severely pissed them off. A resistance group of sorts rose to power, and banned all religion impressively early. I say impressive, but do not mistake that to mean I condone their violent behavior. It’s just such an unusual thing to happen in history, but all told, there was less violence here than in most other universes. The group also banned war, and were prepared to stoop to the level of irony in order to protect that mandate. This also had the effect of increasing the global population, which might sound like a good thing, but it came with some problems. It came with disease. It was worse than any pandemic on any other world, except for the sterility virus. The Isoversals were nearly wiped out by it, and it forced them to change their perspective.

The survivors continued to advance, and came up with ways to protect themselves against something like this happening again. Self-quarantining became the norm, and each passing generation was more and more used to the idea, until no one was left alive who felt that there was any better way to live. To maintain the species, they had to live separately. It was the only way, according to researchers. Innovation didn’t halt, though, of course, and soon they were reapplying their methods to space travel. This reached its inevitable state when every family was afforded its own fusion-powered spacecraft habitat that could orbit a planet, or a host star. If requested and approved, they could even be fitted with a propulsion system capable of delivering them to other star systems. When a child was old enough to go off on their own, they did so literally, by transferring to a unit only large enough to accommodate them. Obviously, the entire point of all this was to protect the species, but the price of not going extinct by some disease could not be going extinct by a lack of propagation. Instead of interacting in base reality, communities formed in virtual constructs. They kept their physical bodies, but spent most of their time connected to the network. When two people met, they would begin by dating each other remotely, and would even form a permanent union in VR. They would only come together outside of VR to start a family, and they were assigned a larger habitat in order to make that work. This was how they lived, and they never thought there could be a better way. They didn’t colonize space to protect the environment of their home planet. They did it because they believed it was the best way to insulate themselves from each other. But it protected them from the Ochivari just the same.