Ghosts are real; to an extent. They aren’t the fleeting consciousnesses of the recently deceased. They aren’t the remnants of those who have “unfinished business” and aren’t yet ready to crossover to the other side. That wouldn’t even make any sense. Unless there are a significant number of mediums in the world, there aren’t enough ways available to logistically help this kind of ghost. And if there aren’t, and that’s the problem, then there must only be a handful of people in the afterlife, because the majority of us will die while we’re technically in the middle of something. No, ghosts are not people. The soul of each and every one of us (sociopaths excluded, of course) currently exists in a lower dimension. It is tethered to the mind and body using a form of quantum entanglement. When a person dies, their mind, body, and soul are separated from one another. The consciousness begins to lose its electrical charge, and eventually breaks down completely. The body decays and transforms. Atoms fly away to form new bonds, and become new things. The soul recedes into its subdimension. In it are the true feelings, morals, and general characteristics of the person that was. It is not thinking. It is not moving. It can be connected to other souls via quantum entanglement, but it can no longer change. It had its chance during life, for that is when we are given the opportunity to determine what kind of people we want to be; what kind of world we want to leave for our children. Each infant is born at Zero. Each time they make a good decision, they move towards the positive side of the scale. Each time they make a bad one, they move towards the negative. At death, the soul of that person will spend eternity either in eternal bliss or eternal itch, depending on their life choices. The ghosts we sense are merely the harmless souls of a person who happened to die in that vicinity at any time beforehand. That is, unless we’re talking about physical ghosts. Those are very real and manmade, but they don’t exist on Earth.
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Current Schedule
- Sundays
- The Advancement of Mateo MaticTeam Matic prepares for a war by seeking clever and diplomatic ways to end their enemy's terror over his own territory, and his threat to others.
- The Advancement of Mateo Matic
- Weekdays
- PositionsThe staff and associated individuals for a healing foundation explain the work that they do, and/or how they are involved in the charitable organization.
- Positions
- Saturdays
- Extremus: Volume 5As Waldemar's rise to power looms, Tinaya grapples with her new—mostly symbolic—role. This is the fifth of nine volumes in the Extremus multiseries.
- Extremus: Volume 5
- Sundays
Wednesday, June 24, 2015
Microstory 88: Ghosts
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Tuesday, June 23, 2015
Microstory 87: The Delegator
No one knows when or where the Delegator was born; not even himself. His first memory was of his first mission. He found himself in the middle of Stonehenge while it was still being built. A few moments later, woman appeared out of nowhere. When she asked where she was, the Delegator’s first thought was that he didn’t know, but he somehow did. He told her that she had traveled through time, and was there to learn what her job was supposed to be. She was hesitant to trust him at first, but this wasn’t the first time she had been thrown through time. It was just that he was the first human she had seen in days. She had previously been surviving alone in the Siderian period in her escape pod after her spaceship exploded. She was in the middle of trying to run from a rauisuchian in the Triassic period when she was sent to Stonehenge. She took the news that she might not ever get back home in stride, which made sense. It would have been inconsiderate to make the Delegator’s first job too difficult. He soon learned that he had the ability to pull the travelers off of their usual pattern in order to meet with them, something that no one else was capable of, and he’s used this power to delegate tasks to hundreds of other people that he calls salmon. He doesn’t know why he does this, but he knows that he must, and that bad things happen when he doesn’t. He chose one time to ignore his duty, and the consequences of these actions have caused trouble throughout all of time.
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Monday, June 22, 2015
Microstory 86: The Intersection

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Sunday, June 21, 2015
The Advancement of Mateo Matic: April 4, 2028
The first thing Mateo felt was the air below him. The ground rushed up towards him and he crash landed onto a dirty mattress. It wasn’t perfectly aligned, so he rolled off onto the cold, hard concrete.
Leona was panting heavily and sweating as she helped him back up. “I’m sorry. I had a hard time getting back in here. Reaver Enterprises bought up this whole warehouse district. We had to break down the little makeshift hospital and get out quick. They have a surprisingly heavy amount of security, even though this particular unit is empty. It took me forever to get in here with a mattress.”
“Thanks for bringing it.”
“Well, I literally wouldn’t be alive without you, so...”
“I love you too. I have one question.”
“Did we share a dream during the surgeries?”
“I guess that answers it.”
“Yep.”
“So...we’re, like, connected?”
“I would call it Quantum Entanglement.”
“I do not know what that means, but it sounds good.”
“Here, I brought these too.”
While he was putting on the change of clothes that she had for him, they heard a ruckus outside. Someone was about to come into the warehouse. Leona grabbed Mateo’s hand and bolted. “There’s an exit in the front.” They ran to the other side, through the office, but they were blocked off. They saw flashlights and heard the garbled sounds of a radio. They were either security guards or police.
“Come on,” Mateo whispered loudly. “Upstairs.”
“To what end?”
“Just follow me.”
He led her up the stairs to a carpeted area. It was dusty and extremely hot. Fortunately, it was also dark, and there were a few large empty boxes left behind by the previous tenants. He directed her to the corner. “They can’t keep a guy like me in jail forever, but this would go on your record.”
“What? What are you doing?”
Back down on the main floor, they could hear the security guards talking to each other, “someone’s been squatting here.”
“How did I miss that? I come in here to call my husband every night.”
“Guy must have just moved in. He must be upstairs.”
“Mateo, don’t do this,” Leona begged.
“If you make a sound, you’ll ruin my plan. Just let me do this for you.” She tried to stop him but it was too late. “I’m here! I’m here!” he called out as he began to walk back down the steps, arms over his head.” The security guards held their futuristic taser-thingamajigs towards him. “No need for violence. I was just looking for a safe place to sleep.”
“We’ve already called the cops,” one of them said. “Here are your new bracelets.”
The other one handed Mateo something that resembled handcuffs. There was no chain between the two pieces. Instead, it had a completely straight bar. On it were blinking lights and a small speaker. “Whoa, what is this thing?” Mateo asked with fascination while he attached them to his wrists.
“Standard issue law enforcement pacification cuffs,” Guard Number One said. “But our company is allowed to use them since we designed them.”
“Why does it need an electrical system?”
Guard Number Two smiled. “Because of this.” He tapped a button on his phone.
A small jolt caused Mateo to jump on instinct. “Oh my God, that’s awesome!”
“With these, we can keep you in the designated area; like a mobile invisible fence,” Number Two explained.
When Number One tapped on his own phone, it just made the cuffs vibrate. “We can send you audible warnings, and even tag things we don’t want you to be around like weapons or computers. If you get too close to the contraband, it’ll shock you.”
“The cops have sedatives in there that can be injected at their leisure.”
“They said we have no reason for such a thing, though.”
“Nonsense!” Mateo said as they escorted him out of the building. “You’re the first line of defense. If anyone needs that sort of thing, it’s you.”
“Right?” Number Two asked rhetorically.
A police cruiser pulled up beside them. Number One opened the back door, and let Mateo in. He was completely alone in there. “Where the hell is the driver?” he asked.
Number One shrugged. “Don’t always need them anymore.”
“That’s badass,” Mateo said, but they couldn’t hear him. They had already closed the door and let the car return to the police station on its own. He imagined that the security guards were trying to figure out whether he had been living under a rock. He just hoped they moved their conversation to a second location so that Leona would have a chance to escape.
When the car pulled up to the police station, he was greeted there by an Officer Salinger who calibrated her tablet to the pacification cuffs. “Are we gonna have any problems?” she legitimately asked.
“No,” Mateo answered genuinely.
“Look, personally, I’ve known people with no place to live. Unemployment is getting worse. Even we’re feeling it, as you saw by the fact that no one actually arrested you on scene.”
“Is that legal?”
“—ish,” she replied. “I just want you to know that, even with all this automation bullshit, I think we have better things to do than drag in someone who just needs to get out of the elements, but the owners of the building you stumbled onto have deep pockets, so I have no choice but to put you through processing.”
“I understand. And I appreciate how I’ve been treated. I’ve been...away for a while, and wouldn’t have expected such manners.”
She laughed awkwardly. “I should definitely not be saying this. But as the job becomes more about directing drones and cross-referencing security cameras, and less about tackling black people for no reason at all, we’ve weeded out a lot of the more aggressive applicants.”
“I should say so.”
After a pause, she began to escort him up to the processing area. She set him down in one of a row of interview tables. He was the only one being processed at the time. “What is your name?”
“Mateo Matic.”
She showed him her palms like she was setting up for a high-ten. “Hands up like this.” He mimicked her. She lifted her tablet and took a picture of his fingerprints. She eyed the screen curiously. “How do you spell your name?”
“M-A-T-E-O M-A-T-I-C.”
She tapped the keys as he spoke. “You are not in the system. I don’t suppose you have any identification?”
“I do not.”
She tapped some more keys, trying to figure out who he was.
He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. She wasn’t going to understand, but she had this way about her that compelled him to be honest with her. “Check—”
“What?”
“Check death records.”
She looked at him apprehensively, but seemed to give it a shot anyway. She read from the screen once the results came back. “Mateo Matic, born March 21st, 1986. Declared dead in absentia five years ago following a year of officially being missing, and several years of an unusual lack of activity.”
“That sounds about right.”
“You fell right off the grid. You didn’t so much as check your email. Why did you fake your death?”
“It’s more complicated than that.”
She looked back at the screen. “Your adoptive parents died in the meantime. Your birth father is unlisted, and your birth mother actually went missing back in 1994. Forgive me, but this is all very strange.”
“Well, when you put it like that...”
“Are you a secret agent?”
“No.”
“Are you part of some strange religious cult? Do you live on a boat? This is a safe place. If a crazy science fiction writer is keeping you hostage, you can tell me.”
“No, it’s nothing like that, it’s...” She made him feel like he wanted to be honest with her, but that didn’t mean he was going to reveal to her the whole truth. “I’m fine. Nothing nefarious.”
She switched off her tablet and put it away. “I’m calling in the big guns. You’ll spend the day in holding while you work out your story. I wanna help you, Mateo. I really do. You have kind eyes. But you’re keeping something from me, and I don’t like that.”
“I get it,” he said. There was nothing more he could say.
She quietly removed his pacification cuffs and replaced them with an anklet that was clearly based on the same technology.
He was sitting up on his bunk minutes before midnight when Leona’s voice came to him out of the aether. “Mateo,” she whispered. “Mateo. Can you hear me?”
“Where are you?”
“I’m in your leg.”
“You hacked my anklet?”
“I hacked the whole system.” The gate to his cell slid open. “All you have to do is get through the treeline and hold out until your jump. Then they’ll lose you forever.”
He checked the hallway to make sure that no one was watching. The gate to the holding area opened on its own. “Just keep opening these doors and I’ll see you next year.”
“I’m waiting for you out here.”
“Fool!”
“Quiet!” She whispered. “You’re not wearing a cone of silence.”
He moved as stealthily as he could through the station. As he stepped out of the back door, the anklet sent a surge of pain throughout his body. He could see Leona standing on the other side of the parking lot. “Dammit! I can’t turn that off!”
“I can make it,” he struggled to say. He half-walked, half-crawled across the asphalt, hoping to be out of sight of security cameras before his jump. It was looking more and more impossible.
Officer Salinger burst through the door and pointed her weapon at him. “Stop!”
He looked over to Leona. “Go! It’s almost time! I’ll be all right!”
Time blinked, but not everything changed. Different cars were in different places. The air was a bit warmer. But Leona was in the exact same place, wearing the exact same clothes, and with the exact same expression on her face. She hadn’t so much as moved a centimeter. She looked at her watch and jogged towards him. “It’s past midnight. Why are you still here?”
“I’m not. Look, everything’s different.”
She looked at her surroundings. “Holy shit, Mateo. You’re right, it’s 2029. I just jumped through time with you.”
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Saturday, June 20, 2015
Seeing is Becoming: Antibiotics (Part V)
Saga trekked through the mud and thicket of the Diamond Forest with determination. Despite being natives to this land, her small search party found themselves easily falling behind her. They informed her that their home continent had more mountains and lakes, and fewer forests and deserts. She, on the other hand, was used to extreme terrain. Her job required adaptation, and she absolutely loved it. Sometimes she was miles and miles away from the nearest human. She found comfort in being alone, not because she didn’t like people, but because it left her to her own devices. The knowledge that the smallest of problems could lead to death made life that much more exciting. It was then that she realized that, aside from Vearden, she was probably lightyears from the nearest human. That was enough to make her shiver. Isolation is one thing.
Saga kept pushing forward, and eventually found herself in a clearing. The land was much flatter and barren ahead of her. When she looked back, the forest was gone. She had been transported again, but to where? Up ahead was a small white building. It could have been a home, or a one-room schoolhouse. She hadn’t really seen how the common Orothsew live, so she very well could have still been on the same planet. The rest of her group hadn’t come with her, though, so she shrugged her shoulders and moved on. There was obviously nothing more she could do to find Vearden.
Seeing no other option, she knocked on the door. A man answered it. He looked exhausted and scared, and barely noticed that she was dressed in unusual garb. She was so shocked that she barely noticed he was wearing unusual garb as well. “Can I help you?” he asked.
“Um...I was just wondering if you...had a telephone that I could borrow?”
That woke him up. “A telephone?” he said with a bit of a laugh. “You have about a decade before the telephone is invented, if I recall correctly. It’s 1868.”
“Oh, really?”
“What year are you from?”
“21st century,” Saga said. “You?”
“20th.” He looked a bit relieved. “Don’t tell me what happens.”
“Are we on Earth?”
“The hell else would we be?”
“Never mind.”
“You wouldn’t happen to be a doctor, would you?”
“Nah, I’m sorry,” Saga replied. I’m just a photographer.”
He was phenomenally disappointed. It did seem that she was sent there to help. They didn’t know who was sending them through time and space, or exactly why they were doing it. But the...powers that be, let’s call them, appear to have some kind of reason. It couldn’t just be random. The fact that she was sent back to Earth, but over 150 years earlier, had to mean something. Either she was there to help him, or he was there to help her. She was sure of it.
“But I did happen to have a medical kit when I slipped back.”
“Do you have antibiotics?”
“Indeed, for animals.”
“I thought you took pictures.”
“Yes, but you can’t usually buy human antibiotics unless you’re already sick. Survivalists buy from pet stores to be prepared.”
“You’re beautiful,” the man said. “Come on in, please. My name is Sam, by the way.”
“Saga,” she volleyed. She stepped inside and began to dig through her pack.
“Interesting name. Common in the future?” He led her into another room where a woman was sitting up in bed. She was coughing and sweating profusely. Another man was keeping her cool with a wet towel. “Who is this?”
“Our savior,” Sam answered. “She has antibiotics. Right now, we’re the only people in the world who can effectively treat pneumonia.”
“She does?” the other woman asked.
“Are those the things that kill germs and cure diseases?”
“They are,” Saga confirmed. “In so many words.”
“Looks like we’ve encountered another salmon,” the second man said. “I’m Edward. This is our friend, Lorena. Those two are from the future. I’m from the past.”
“Saga,” she repeated. “Future.”
“Are those them?” Sam asked.
“Uh, yeah.” She handed him the bottle. “Here, sorry. I just didn’t expect to meet anyone else like me. Have you been doing this long?”
“Well, with time travel, it’s a little hard to tell,” Sam said while he took a couple pills from the bottle and gave them to Lorena. “But it’s been at least a year. She and I come from the same time, and we keep meeting him at different times. Something is pulling us together, just like it pulled you here.”
“That’s fascinating. I just started. There’s no way to tell what year, though; not where I was.”
“What does that mean?”
“I’m not sure you’re ready for that.” She pointed to Edward. “I know that he isn’t.”
Edward laughed. “I think I would surprise you.”
“How many of these can you spare?”
“Every last one of them,” Saga said. That there bottle is yourn.”
Lorena nearly spit out her water. “That’s the spirit. You’re already acting like it’s 1868. You’ll fit right in. But where did you get those clothes?”
“That’s what you’re not ready for,” Saga said teasingly.
“Just tell me one thing,” Lorena started, sitting up to get more comfortable. “Do they still remember Kurt Cobain where you’re from?”
Saga shook her head affirmatively. “Of course we do.”
“Was it Courtney? I’ve always thought she did it.”
“Still just rumors, far as I know.”
Lorena grew sadder. “Could I ask you a favor?”
“I’ll do whatever I can. I can’t be sure how long I’m staying here, though.”
“We consistently head backwards in time. Edward has agreed to look him up if he reaches that point, but I was hoping you would too. It’s my son. I left him in 1994.” She began to choke up. “I don’t think I’ll ever see him again. But if you only just started, there’s a chance your pattern lets you go back and forth.”
Saga breathed in deeply. She had been hesitant to explain herself, but it was probably inevitable. She didn’t want to lie. “It’s true that I don’t know my pattern, and that my foray into 1868 was...unexpected, even after my first jump. So there’s a chance I’ll run into him. But I feel it’s only right that you know that I’m not, strictly speaking, a time traveler. I was sent to another planet. That’s why we didn’t know what year it was while we were there. I promise to look for your son if I can. I fear, however, that such a thing rests in the hands of whatever entity is controlling us.”
“I know,” Lorena agreed. “We do not appear to have control. I would still like to think that they listen to us. Maybe the three of us are stuck with our patterns, but maybe you’re not. Maybe you don’t have a pattern at all, and they really will take your feelings into consideration. I’m very religious. And I actually don’t believe in the powers that be. I believe only in God. And I trust in him.”
“I sure hope you’re right, Lorena. After these last couple of days, I’m not certain I’m not already home. But for you, I’ll pray to go back, if only to check on your son. What’s his name. Where might I find him?”
Lorena gave her the information. Sam had a few requests as well, but nothing quite so profound. To their surprise, Saga remained with them in the mid 19th century for the next three years. At that point, a portal opened up in the middle of nowhere, and she felt drawn back through it, knowing in her heart that Orothsew was where she belonged at the time. She stepped through and looked back at the friends she had grown to love deeply. Sam and Lorena disappeared to continue their travels in time, leaving Edward behind alone. He smiled and waved as well. The portal closed.
“Where did you just come from?” Vearden asked. He then took her in a bear hug.
Friday, June 19, 2015
Microstory 85: The Eighth Seal
And then I looked up in horror as the eighth seal was torn open. Limbs fell from the trees, sparks flew out of the junction boxes, sewage bubbled up across the roads, and gas exploded on every corner. 2 Rain dripped between the shingles, the internet became spotty, and orange cones littered the sidewalks, but never near the many holes in the ground. 3 My car broke down in the middle of nowhere. The cell towers tumbled, and there was no reception. 4 The air conditioners and heaters failed across the world, and no one knew how to turn on fans or put on coats. 5 The traffic lights were lit up with all three colors, or none at all. 6 And ye, it was a frightening sight as dozens of service trucks began to terrorize the city. They parked at least two feet from the curb. The operators smoked cigarettes and made lewd comments to the passersby, but they never did any work. 7 A man who was their leader danced wickedly on the largest of the service trucks, and the service truck was yellow, for that is the grossest color for a vehicle. He answered the phone and claimed to the people that their call was important to them, and that a representative would help at the earliest possible moment. 8 And once all of the seals were brought together, the world ended.
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Thursday, June 18, 2015
Microstory 84: Telekinesis
When a citizen of The Core reaches 16 standard years (a little over 18 in our terms) they are eligible to receive some kind of telekinesis. They are born without it so that they may grow up learning problem-solving skills, and how to do things for themselves, rather than relying on the easy way out. There are two major types: enfixed and germ. Germ TK utilizes a completely natural genetic component already within each and every one of us. It cannot be enhanced, undone, or otherwise modified. If you choose the germ route, your telekinetic abilities are limitless, but they require practice. You are only as powerful as your own understanding of that power. Enfixed TK is far more common. Unless your profession requires superstrength (such as construction work) you'll only be marginally stronger than you are without TK. For instance, you won't be able to lift a car, but you can open the door without having to touch it. There are variants of enfixed TK that depend of what you need it for. Surgeons, chefs, and law enforcement authorities have an untraceability variant, to prevent cross-contamination, since regular enfixed TK leaves behind a harmless but detectable residue. But this is not needed for pilots. Instead, as you might expect, they are particularly exceptional at flying.
Enfixed TK can be taken away and replaced, and everyone with the same variant will be on equal footing. In order to surpass the norm, you're going to need the germ. The danger with that is that if you're just not any good, telekinesis may simply not be very useful to you. Unfortunately, however, you will be biologically incapable of switching to enfixed. Some of the variants may be quite obvious. There is a way to lock a door telekinetically, so that only certain people can open it, even without actually using TK (so that children may enter their own homes but remain safe from strangers). Authorities are of course capable of bypassing these restrictions, for health and safety reasons. Some variants may not be so obvious, though. Chefs only allow themselves something called “literal telekinesis” that responds only to the movements of their hands and fingers. This maintains the artistic nature of cooking, while allowing a higher level of sanitation. Only one Earthan human has ever received any form of telekinesis. He's turned out to be one of the most powerful people in the universe; even rivaling the witches. It is academically assumed that Earthans adapt more dramatically to the change, and that is one reason you've not heard any of this before.
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Wednesday, June 17, 2015
Microstory 83: See The Future
“I was born with the ability to see the future. Since it was second nature, it took me a long time to realize that such a thing was not normal. Whenever someone was surprised by an occurrence—a vehicular collision, a friend tripping on the sidewalk, or a pop quiz—I would ask them why they didn’t just look into the future and prevent that from happening. They just laughed at me, or acted like I was crazy. I legitimately didn’t understand it. I see time like a road. There are events behind me, and there are events ahead of me. All I have to do is open my eyes and prepare myself for things to come. What I’ve since discovered is that this ability is shared amongst all others; but for me, to a higher degree. Every time you pass by someone else and don’t run into them, you’re measuring the future. You’re calculating your own route, and you’re predicting the route the other person is going to take, based on where they’ve been, their speed, their likely intention, etcetera. I do the same thing...just better, and more accurately. And that’s why you’re here today, right? You’ve come to this hotel ballroom to learn what I know. I can’t guarantee that measuring the future will ever be as easy for you as it is for me. But I can guarantee that you’ll get better at it, and I’ll give you the tools to train yourself further even once this seminar ends...or your money back. You in the second row, might as well come get it back now, because you’ll never be happy with my teachings.”
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