Sunday, January 17, 2016

The Advancement of Mateo Matic: May 4, 2058

Mateo and Leona decided to keep from introducing Prince Darko to the rest of the family until 2058. Leona had been right in that he jumped forward in time one hour before the two of them, still attached to the Eastern timezone. That could be helpful or hurtful to them. It was just a crapshoot. The following late morning, they all gathered together to have brunch, which was apparently what they were going to be doing from now on. “That is, until the next Reaver shows up,” Mateo said after they were finished with the meal.
“He may already have,” Leona volleyed, still far more unsure about Prince Darko than he was.
“You need to stop thinking like that. Have you ever heard of a self-fulfilling prophecy?”
“Have you?” she asked, pointing out how dumb he was via subtext.
“That wasn’t necessary.”
“I’m sorry, but my experience in that prison suite was different than yours in the regular cell. Being locked up is one thing, but being catered to by your enemy is just creepy.”
“Well, talk to me about it,” Mateo urged. “Every time I try to bring it up, you brush me away. I don’t know what you want me to do.”
“Typical man, always trying to fix something. I just want you to listen.”
“I can listen. You’re not talking!”
She knew he was right, but wouldn’t admit it in a million years. She was hurting, and she didn’t know how to express her feelings about it. “Never mind.”
She started to walk away, but Mateo gently took her by the shoulder. “Hey, are we okay?”
Leona looked like she was coming up with a complex and difficult answer, but in the end just just said, “I need time.”
“Okay.”
“And I need to speak with our new friend alone.”
“What?”
“I have some questions for him, and I need to know what he says when you’re not around. He obviously doesn’t like me, and we need to understand why.”
“So you’re going to be alone with him.”
“You let him in, you can’t be scared about it now.”
“I let him in. Doesn’t mean I’m handing him my social security number. I’m trying to give him the benefit of the doubt, not accepting him blindly.”
“Well, let me go get a good look.”
“Leona...” Mateo tried to say.
“I promise to not give him your social security number.”
Image courtesy of Megan Highfill.
Once Leona disappeared from sight, the scene changed, and Mateo found himself looking at an ancient temple he recognized. He didn’t know the name of it, though.
“Angkor Wat,” the Cleanser said. “Beautiful, isn’t it?”
Mateo didn’t even turn his head. “It is. Have you bought me a tour.”
The Cleanser laughed. “I just like beautiful places. The Pit of Jhaseg on the planet Eiusagl, this temple. I would take you to Stonehenge sometime, but it’s taken.”
“What am I doing here?”
“I’m here to warn you about Prince Darko.”
“You heard about that, huh?”
“He is incredibly dangerous, and he’s lying to you.”
“And you’re not?”
“I’m not lying, I’m just not telling you everything.”
“I am growing wary of our conversations already. How often are you going to extract me from my life?”
“As many times as it takes.”
Mateo waited for him to elaborate.”
Feeling the tension from the silence, the Cleanser corrected himself, “as many times as it takes for you to understand that if you want your life back completely, you’re going to need help from someone like me.”
“You say that salmon are really just choosing ones who happen to be locked into an uncontrollable pattern by someone else.”
“Essentially, yes.”
“All things being equal, what’s to stop the other choosers from locking you up. I mean, sure you have power now. But can you not be overpowered by someone else. Sticking with the prison analogy, it’s possible to lock someone up who’s stronger than you, especially if you have friends.”
“I’ve already told you that we don’t play well with others. In order to stop me, they would have to work together, and they don’t like doing that. I mean, I know you’ve already talked about the fact that they didn’t really need your help to stop Reaver. They just chose to enlist you because you’re a character to them. It’s like a video game. They can move you around, but there is still a right way to do things; certain limitations, however arbitrary they may be.”
“Oh, so now we’re video game characters.” Mateo started roughly massaging his eyes. “Jesus Christ, Lord and Savior, do the analogies never end?”
“No,” was all the Cleanser said.
“Do you have any evidence, or at least anecdotes, against Prince Darko, or are you just feeling jealous?”
He laughed. “It’s not jealousy, and I can’t tell you about his past...but I can show you his present.”
“How so?”
He waved his arms ceremoniously and swept them away to a new place.

They were walking alongside Leona and Prince Darko in the park who didn’t appear to have any idea that they were there. Another choosing one trick. How often were they watching so literally? “Don’t worry,” the Cleanser tried to comfort him, “they can’t see us, but we don’t do this as often as you would think. Literally watching salmon jump through the water isn’t the most interesting way of getting the story.”
“I see,” Mateo said, unconvinced and uncomforted.
“Now pay attention.”
They began to eavesdrop on Leona’s and Prince Darko’s conversation.
“What are you doing here, Prince Darko?” Leona asked.
“I’m here to help,” Prince Darko replied, “in any way I can.”
“What if we say the way to help is to leave us alone?”
“Is that what Mateo wants?”
“It’s a hypothetical, just answer it.”
“I would do everything in my power to comply with your wishes, but I’m as bound to the powers that be as you are.”
“I can’t shake the feeling that you’re lying, and you’re actually not bound.”
“I’m not sure what I could do to convince you. Have you not met others like us? How did you start trusting them?”
“The only two salmon we trust who aren’t part of the family saved our lives.” She must have been referring to The Doctor and Vearden. “Horace and Ulinthra were never on our side.”
“I heard something about security guards.”
“See, that’s it right there,” Leona said. “How do you know about those people? We’ve never encountered you, yet you already know a lot about us. Your claim that you were alone for a month and a half seems thin at best.”
“The Delegator filled me in.”
“The Delegator likes to talk, but not that much. He wouldn’t tell you all this.”
“Oh, no? Do you know him very well?” He was right about that. They didn’t. “You obviously don’t like me,” Prince Darko began, “and I don’t need to understand why. It’s becoming quite clear that you will never be all right with me around.”
“You’re not wrong.”
“So I’ll tell you what, you go ahead and poison your boyfriend against me, but I think I may have the upperhand.”
“How so?”
“He has a soft spot for family, and I can be the brother he’s always wanted.”
“Now you’re starting to show your true colors.”
“You be the best girlfriend you can be, and I’ll be the best brother. We’ll let him decide.”
Leona stopped walking and scoffed. “That’s what you don’t get.”
“What?”
“Mateo is not the boss of our relationship. We’re a team. He doesn’t decide what we do. We come to decisions together.”
Prince Darko tilted his head inquisitively. “Are you sure about that?”
“I’m going back home. I can’t stop you from following me, but I highly recommend you turn around and return to Ohio.”
“Why is that?”
Leona started to leave. “If you’re with us, then you’ll be fine. But if you’re against us, eventually we’ll figure out why, and you will lose. Mateo and I can’t be beat.”
After Leona was out of earshot, Prince Darko said to himself, “maybe not as long as you stay together.”
“You see?” the Cleanser asked, sure of himself.
“See what?”
“I know you’re not that dumb.”
“Yeah, he’s trying to pull Leona and I apart.”
“So...that doesn’t bother you?”
Mateo shook his head. “Not anymore than it bothers me that you’re trying to do the same.”
“I’m just trying to give you some perspective.”
“Could you take me back to the regular dimension, or whatever it is you need to do.” It sounded like it could be a question, but it wasn’t.
“Prince Darko may not be your enemy, but he certainly isn’t your friend.”
“We’re done.”
“Are you going to tell Leona that you saw their conversation?”
“Just wait and find out. Evidently you can spy on us whenever you want.”
“That’s not...I just—”
“Home! Now!” Mateo ordered.
“I will, but first I have a warning. And this one you’ll want to hear.”
“What?” Mateo was becoming impatient. He needed to get back in the house before Leona came back, or he would have to explain where he was.
The Cleanser either sensed this, or could read his mind. He waved his hand and jumped them back to Mateo’s bedroom. “The next Reaver is coming. And he’s much worse.”

Saturday, January 16, 2016

Overwritten: Instructions (Part III)

My plan to avoid Horace Reaver goes swimmingly...for almost five years. One day, I’m surveilling him a little too closely when he spots me. Fortunately, Brian and I prepared for this kind of situation. I started taking acting classes. That’s right, I actually went to a high school at night and took lessons from a third-rate acting coach at the cheapest price. I just needed to learn to lie, but to lie extremely well. He taught me that if I wanted to “get into character” I had to believe that I really was the character. I had to convince myself that the lie was actually the truth. If I could fool myself, he said, then I could fool anybody. So far, it was going about as well as could be expected.
“Why are you following me?” I try to get away from him, but he stops me. “Give me that camera.”
“No, it’s my property.”
“Who hired you.”
“I have no clue what you’re talking about.”
“Yes, you do. Give me the goddamn camera.”
“I’m not going to do that.”
“Tell me who you’re working for!”
“No!” I hope I said that at the right time. My teacher also said that the best way to cover up a big lie was to replace it with a slightly smaller lie. If Reaver knew that I came back from the past and was intending on stopping him from becoming a bad person, he would flip out. If he thought I was following him for other reasons, I might be in trouble, but it would work itself out. It was better than him knowing I was a time traveler. I pretend to be disappointed with myself for letting it slip that he was right about me working for someone. “Crap.”
“So you are following me.”
“My clients are confidential.”
“You’re a private detective?”
I hand him my business card. Yes, we made fake business cards too.
Reaver reads it out loud, “Sockdolager Investigations.”
“Yeah, ya see it’s—” I start to explain.
He cuts me off, “yeah, I get it. Your name is Lincoln. That’s funny.” He is not amused. “I don’t need to know who your client is. Just switch sides.”
“I’m sorry?”
“Come work for me instead.”
“Sir, with all due respect, you don’t have much of anything right now.”
“This is true,” Reaver admits. “But I will in the future. I promise you this. If it’s money you’re worried about, don’t. If there’s one thing I’m not lacking, it’s a way to make money. I have a lock on gambling. Just name your price and it’s yours.”
“You don’t know anything about me.”
“I’m not asking you to marry me. Come start work and I’ll get to know you.”
“What exactly would I be doing?”
“I need a bodyguard, and you look like you can take a hit.”
“Expecting some violence?”
“Hope for the best, plan for the worst,” he says, as if recalling a memory.
“What’s the catch?”
“Never question me,” he answers. “Always do what I say, even if it feels wrong.”
That was not a good start. But I have been waiting for an opportunity. It would seem that his dreams of becoming a billionaire were well on their way. His viewpoint on money mirrors mine, but more intensely. He too must know what investments to make, but in a far more specific way. Perhaps my plan to watch him from the shadows is no longer valid. Maybe it’s time to get right in the thick of it. He doesn’t seem to recognize me as a security guard from the future. I look older then, and we only met the once. But I realize if he does see me for who I am, he might be planning on killing me later on.

I accept his offer, and soon discover that he wasn’t lying about the salary thing. I start making six figures right away, and my life gets good. Brian and I switch places. I become the one on the frontlines while he pulls back so that I have a way out. I funnel him money on the regular so that he can live a modest life of anonymity. Reaver asks me to do a couple weird things, but I comply. There’s very little close protection work, like he first indicated. Mainly he just wants me to keep tabs on his wife from the alternate timeline, Leona Delaney. Of course I don’t know the details of their original relationship, or this one, and he certainly makes no effort to fill me in, but I still do what I’m told. I genuinely believe that he has no intention of harming her. If his experience as a time traveler is anything like mine, he might have screwed up the timeline unintentionally, and is trying desperately to get back on track by engaging with her in some other way. But if I fear that her life is in any danger, then Brian is there to spirit her away.
I continue writing in my journal of my adventures in the other reality, but decide to stop publishing them online. Even though I never used my real name, and I never mentioned anything that would catch Reaver’s attention, it’s just too risky. If he so much as suspects that I’ve had experiences that cannot be traced through the current timeline, he’ll know I’ve been keeping things from him. It would be too great a coincidence for anyone to believe, especially not for someone as smart as Horace Reaver.
Months into the job, he ushers me into the lair of what Brian would call Reaver’s hackette. “Will it be ready soon?” he asks.
She’s furiously typing on the keyboard and staring at the screen with intensity, but when we round the corner, the monitor is completely blank.
“What the hell is this?”
“You boys have this image in your mind of a hacker typing code at the speed of thought, but it’s a little more complex than that. There’s a lot more trial and error than you would think. Also, we do use mouses. I don’t know why people on TV act like they have a macroinstruction for literally everything.”
“The plural is mice,” I correct her.
“No!” she screams. “It’s mouses! You shut your mouth! You shut it! You shut it now!” She’s a little weird.
“Why aren’t you working on my program?”
“Because I finished it days ago,” she spits. Micro, as she prefers to be called, pulls something up on the screen, and it’s all Greek to me. Well, I mean it would be Greek if I couldn’t read Greek, but I can, so it’s...computer code..to me.
I realize that they’re looking at me curiously.  Reaver snaps his finger in my face. “Still with us?”
“Yes, sir. Sorry about that, sir. I was just...inspecting the perimeter.”
“Nice save, Sergeant.” Micro’s nickname for me.
Reaver leans over and rests his hand on the desk. “Are you absolutely sure that you’re done with this? It is imperative that it be deployed tonight.”
“Yeah, March 29, 2022. I get it. It’ll work.”
“It’ll work?” Reaver asks, feeling no confidence in her words.
“It’s perfect,” Micro assures him. “As long as you don’t turn off the machine, the program will run continuously on its own.”
“Show me the machine.”
Micro hands him a tablet that was plugged into her workstation. “I am warning you that the program eats up battery like a mother, so I recommend having some portable chargers on hand. I have some ready to go in the locker by the door.”
Reaver passes the tablet to me. “You need to get up to Lincoln, Nebraska. Your train leaves just after midnight. If you’re not on it, or you don’t fire up the program once on board, you’re dead to me.”
“This isn’t going to cause the train to derail or something, will it?”
“I seem to remember saying you could have this job as long as you didn’t ask questions.”
“I know, I just...I think I’ve earned your trust by now.”
He looks distracted as he shakes his head. “I have work to do.” He starts to walk away. “Be in Lincoln by midnight.”
“You don’t find it strange that your name is Lincoln and he’s sending you to Lincoln?”
I ignore her and start to fiddle with the tablet.
“Don’t touch that!”
“What does it do?”
“It’s an artificial intelligence that seamlessly takes control of the automated locomotive network and directs it as needed.”
“Obviously,” I say sarcastically, “but what does it do?”
“It doesn’t control where the trains go, but it controls when they get there. Basically we want the the train you’re on to be at a certain point at a certain time, but if we don’t manipulate all the other trains in the area, it will have no reason to be there so late. We have to alter them little by little so that everything seems organic and unavoidable.”
“Why are we doing this?”
She turns back to her workstation. “That is not my job.”
I leave the room and start driving to Lincoln, Nebraska. I dread getting there, and all the jokes I’ll hear from the train workers about my name.

Friday, January 15, 2016

Microstory 235: Perspective Ten

Click here for a list of every perspective.
Perspective Nine

My pot dealer is an idiot. I mean, of course he’s an idiot; I don’t know what I should have expected, but it’s pretty irritating having to deal with him. He’s always trying to tell me stories, especially about his FBI agent roommate, but he bungles them up because he can barely remember his own name. I would like to find a new dealer, but this isn’t my world, so I wouldn’t know where to begin. I’ve actually tried to hint to him that I’m interested in taking my business elsewhere, but he lacks the brain capacity to understand subtext, and if I were to just straight up ask him, he would be offended. I don’t know why I should be worried about offending a stoner, but I guess a part of me is afraid that he’ll turn me in, even if it means he gets caught too. He’s that dumb. We live in a state where marijuana is completely illegal, and in a part of the state that’s too far from states where it is allowed. When I was first diagnosed, my doctor prescribed me certain medication, but warned me that it was only going to take me so far. She said that my best option was medical marijuana, but admitted that this put me in a pickle. My worsening condition has made it impossible to continue being driver, and so I had to drop down to an entirely different field. Because of the decrease in pay, I can’t just up and move to somewhere that can serve my needs, especially not since I’m still responsible for taking care of my aunt. And so I’m stuck with this doofus. I think I got lucky with him, though. I’m all right with further decriminalization of marijuana, especially for medical purposes. My problem with it is that everyone wants to smoke, which is disgusting. My dealer has an inventory of edibles which work just as well, and don’t muck up the air around me. And bonus, I get to eat brownies and cookies all day without feeling guilty about gaining a few extra pounds. Why people insist on lighting things on fire and putting them in their mouths is something I’ll never understand. The truth is that they think it’s fun, and the damage to their physiology is apparently irrelevant. I’m not saying that I want it to be me, but I do think if we changed the face of weed legalization to someone legitimate, things might actually change. If it weren’t so terribly obvious that the majority of people in favor of such bills were just wastoids in their parents’ basements, we might have something here. Promote your cause by pointing out the medical and psychological benefits of this medicine, and people who would otherwise be against you might actually start listening. I would give almost anything to not have to interact with this moron again.

Perspective Eleven

Thursday, January 14, 2016

Microstory 234: Perspective Nine

Click here for a list of every perspective.
Perspective Eight

My roommate and best friend is a cop. Well he’s not really a cop but he’s a FBI agent. Now I know what you’re thinking, dude how could you possibly live with a pig given what you do? But he’s cool. We actually started doing weed together when we were kids. I moved on to pursue the business side of things and ever since then he helps me keep me covered. It’s a pretty choice deal. I don’t know how he hasn’t gotten caught yet or I haven’t but I’m not really that worried. I think most of the time he doesn’t deal with dangerous things that much but he come home the other day and tells me about how a guy kidnapped a girl and then she paid a cop to kill him. Or something like that. Like, I don’t really know if I got that right but I know something like that happened. Truth? It’s kind of hard for me to remember things when I’m in my testing phase. Now I don’t normally do drugs myself that’s not my thing. Not anymore at least. But I do have to sample my own product so I know it’s good. But I’ve grown up from being like that. But I feel like it’s, like, my job to foster the young youth ya know? But to make them understand how to smoke properly and safely. But they need to know that they shouldn’t go out driving and stuff because that’s dangerous and I had this friend when I was just getting into the business who was also trying to get the business and he just didn’t realize that he should probably stop getting high so he could keep track of his business affairs and he also didn’t quite never get the fact that he shouldn’t drive and he drove and he died. It was pretty sad I was at his funeral. He had the coolest collection of those cards where the little slave animals live in balls and are only let out so they can fight each other. And all I’m saying is that I don’t get how they live in those balls. Yeah sure it seems like they have some kind of shrinking technology but, like, it doesn’t seem like they use it to shrink anything else? It seems like it would be pretty handy to, ya know, make things go smaller. I was thinking the other day if you could shrink things then you should be a doctor and shrink yourself and then you could go into a patient’s body with a gun and shoot a tumor or something. That would be pretty cool. Have you noticed that the word tumor kind of sounds like a place, like people should live in Tumor, Germany or something. But I guess it would be weird.

Perspective Ten