The Advancement of Mateo Matic: May 15, 2069

« < » > Table of Contents

Mateo could not open his eyes, despite knowing that he had to in order to survive. A great roar came from under his ass and vibrated his entire body. Leona’s voice surged into his brain. “Mateo! Mateo! Can you hear me! Wake up! I need you to say the words!”

He struggled to lift his eyelids and began to look around. He was inside of a fishbowl, inside of a very tiny room. He might even call it a pod. Did that make sense? Yes, of course it did. He could remember now that the new Rogue, Makarion was forcing them to reenact a movie from 2015 called The Martian. He started jumping through time before so much as hearing about it, so he hadn’t gotten a chance to watch it back then. Fortunately, Makarion gave them the heads up about it, and let them study it the day before. This wasn’t exactly the safest part of the film, but it was near the end. These reenactments only took place over the course of a few scenes, maybe several, but never the whole thing. Life of Pi had been the most exhausting one, but still only accounted for part of the story.

Because so much of The Martian involved a highly intelligent astronaut who was trained to survive on an inhospitable planet, and knew the technical details of the instruments around him, Mateo and Leona were pretty sure those kinds of things would be cut out. Leona could probably be categorized as a genius, but she was still not cognizant of any machines used to get to, or live on, Mars. And she certainly hadn’t been given enough time to familiarize herself with 2069 technology. Therefore, they assumed their reenactment mission was something any lay person could conceivably carry out. There wasn’t really anything in the movie like that, save maybe growing potatoes. So they had been at a loss as to where in the film this year’s tribulation would begin. There just weren’t any scenes that involved two people. There was only the main character being alone, and then times when he reported to mission control. That is, except for the climax, which included the small number of his crew. But they never thought Makarion would choose that one, because it meant employing actors. Yet, that’s what he did, in a way.

“You’re late!” Leona continued. “You have to say the words, or the MAV will explode, Pilot!”

Mateo thought back to what words she would be talking about. Oh yes, that part in all realistic space movies; the one where someone in mission control reads off all the sections, each one checking in. Recovery; go. Secondary Recovery; go. And her last one was Pilot. “GO!”

A voice he didn’t recognize began to count down from ten. The engines below him increased intensity, and then pushed him off the ground. Was he really on Mars? As he was hurtling towards his death, he recalled research Leona had done about the state of space travel. Mars has had humans on it for many years now, with permanent settlements during about ten of the most recent of them. Most of the residents are scientists, but people are actually starting to move out there with their families, hopeful to build a new world. But a planet with humans on it is not the same as Earth. Most of these settlements are located on the poles, with plenty of space in between for Makarion to stage the reenactment of one of his favorite movies without anyone noticing. Probably. But who was this person who had counted down his blast off. Was she chooser, salmon, or just a regular human? Was she something else? If she was just a regular person, what made her agree to something like this? It must look fishy.

The MAV continued away from where it had come, and begin to swim through the eternal vacuum of space. Screws, washers, and other small objects floated around his head. Yep; he was in space. Again. He didn’t pass out, like in the movie. He probably would have liked to as his fear and anxiety was getting the best of him, but being awake was better since he couldn’t know what would happen next. The Rogue always liked to put in twists on the source material, so that even knowing what was supposed to happen wouldn’t help him. This was already a dangerous mission, so how could things get worse? Well, for the moment, nothing was happening as Mateo waited for Leona and the rest of whatever crew she had to come retrieve him.

“How are you doing, love?” Leona asked through comms.

“I’m fine, I’m awake. Makarion couldn’t have chosen a better part of the movie.”

“I agree.”

“Way I remember it, somebody should be making a bomb right about now. Is everything going according to plan?”

“There is no bomb. We’re just on our way to pick you up. Our vector is fine for it. My guess is that the bomb and other insane components of the film’s original rescue are just too many variables for Makarion to account for.”

“So the twist this time is that things are actually easier?” Mateo asked.

“Hold on.”

“What?” Mateo called, but received no reply. He could hear only static. “Leona, what is it? Tell me. I can handle it.”

“Copy that, Pilot,” Leona finally said. “I’ve just been informed by the crew that we’re going to deliberately stop far enough away from you so that you’ll be forced to do the thing.”

“The thing? I don’t wanna do the thing.”

“I don’t want you to do the thing either, but they insist that you do the thing.”

“Who are these people?”

“Robots. Programmed by Makarion to carry out his orders.”

“Can you reprogram them?”

“Negative.”

Mateo looked around, knowing that every second he let pass would make things more difficult. He just had to resign himself to the fact that he had no choice but to comply with tribulation parameters. “I can’t find anything sharp. If the walls had sharp edges, or something, maybe I could figure it out. But there’s nothing. How am I supposed to do the thing?”

“Is there a fire extinguisher?”

Mateo paused. Did she really just say that? Yes, yes there was. And it was probably an ancient one, at that. Future fire extinguishers could probably fit in the palm of your hand. “So now we’re doing Gravity? That one I did see.”

“Do you have one?”

“Yes, I do.”

“There shouldn’t be,” Leona pointed out. “This is the actual twist.”

“Okay, I can do this,” Mateo said.

“No, wait. I have to run some calculations. You can’t just hold the extinguisher wherever you want, or you’ll spin around endlessly. You have to put it at your center of mass.”

Before too long, though, Leona returned on comms and told him exactly where to hold the fire extinguisher, up against his belly. He hung out of the edge, ran through the Our Father prayer a few times, and then let it ride. He did spin around a few times; maybe a few hundred. But he quickly adjusted his placement, found his groove, and started shooting ever towards the ship above him. It was very tiny, likely so that it wouldn’t be detected by the real people living on Mars. Leona was floating under it, waiting for him to reach her. That meant she was already in her suit and out there when they were discussing fire extinguisher etiquette. So she did those calculations in her head. She really was amazing. He remembered her having said that she was always terrible at grade school math. How exactly had she changed so dramatically? However it was possible, he was grateful for this now. He barreled into her body and held on tightly. They didn’t even have to do the thing where they spin around each other, ever in danger of being pulled apart again.

The robot crew reeled them in together and sealed the airlock. “You can’t imagine how frustrating it’s been suffering these people,” Leona complained. “You’ve been unconscious for most of the day while I’ve been dealing with problem after problem. Nothing in this ship works. I almost wish we had actually done the explosion part.”

“We are going to,” one of the robots said.

“What?”

It entered a sequence into a device on its wrist. They could hear a beeping coming from it, and a number of other places nearby.

“You’re really going to blow up the ship!” Mateo yelled.

“It is our final directive,” it recited.

“What movie is that from?” Leona and Mateo scrambled to put their helmets back on. She entered own sequence on a console on the wall. The airlock reopened and jettisoned them from the ship, just as it was blowing up. The explosion propelled them back towards Mars, and damaged their suits. He could feel the air slipping away from him. Apparently he hadn’t needed something sharp to cut a hole. He should have thought of using an explosion before.

“Were I you!” Mateo yelled into his comms.

“Were I you!” Leona returned.

They continued to scream in fear. Would they keep going towards Mars, far enough to burn up in the atmosphere? Or would they eventually stop? He wished he knew how to science.

The scene changed as outer space transformed into water, and blackness turned to blue. They were lying in a water fountain, still screaming. People were hanging about, looking at them funny. They could see Makarion smiling from the crowd. He winked before turning away and walking off, done with them for now. Mateo played to the crowd and sprayed water out of his mouth, like one of the horses. They laughed at him, clearly happy to see something exciting and spontaneous.

« < » > Table of Contents

No Story, Here's Something Else

No story today. Just mistakes. Writers need a day off every once in awhile too. The follow-up to Seeing is Becoming is coming in two weeks.

Microstory 290: Perspective Sixty-Five

Click here for a list of every perspective.

Perspective Sixty-Four

I hear from a lot of people opposed to my values that same-sex marriage is going to make the world better. But we know from a number of different studies that this is not true. I’ve read a lot of different studies that say that children with two parents who are gay do not grow up to be good people. The fact is that gay marriage is harming this country’s children. I won’t even get into the religious problems gay marriage causes because I know that there are other religions out there other than mine, I’m not a crazy person. But these studies I read say that children of two “parents” of the same sex can end up really screwed up. They have worst grades, and sometimes they grow up to be sociopaths and perverts. It’s estimated that about half of children raised by gay couples grow up to be gay themselves. And that is not acceptable. You see, what it really boils down to is a population issue. If everyone was gay, then we wouldn’t be able to have any more people, would we? It doesn’t matter so much to me that marriage is between a man and a woman—which it is, by the way—the real thing is that sex is between a man and a woman. Because the only real purpose of sex is to make babies. Now I’m not saying that I don’t ever have sex for fun, I just mean that I do it with a woman, so it’s okay. I don’t understand why people don’t see that the gay infection is a real concern. If we keep letting gay people get married and raise children, we’ll just end up with more and more gay people, and then there won’t be anyone around to make healthy, god-fearing, straight people. Then we’ll all just die out. But I wonder if that’s what gay people want, to end the world. It’s an insidious plan, and it will probably take a long time, but if that’s really what they want, then we have to do something about it now.

Now you might think I’m crazy, but I’m not. It’s science, and I have the science to back up my claims. I’m not just making stuff up. I haven’t even gotten to the part where a homosexual country would lead to incest and bestiality. It’s not as far-fetched as you think. The people who like gay marriage also think we come from monkeys, so I’m sure they want to have sex with monkeys too. My coworker is gay, and he’s a huge advocate for gay rights. It’s so hard to work with him, and he knows these people where they’re all married to each other! There are, like, seven of them, and they’re all pretty much married to each other. Well, I mean, they’re not actually married, because that’s illegal, thank God, but if the gays have their way, they’ll be married soon too. I don’t think these people have children, but they could at some point, and that we cannot have. Something should be done. We have to protect the sanctity of marriage, and the safety of our children.

Perspective Sixty-Six

Microstory 289: Perspective Sixty-Four

Click here for a list of every perspective.

Perspective Sixty-Three

If you’re against me and people like me, I want to ask yourself one question; can you see the future? I don’t mean, can you literally look into the crystal ball and watch future events unfold? I mean, can you guess where cultural norms are headed? Have you seen a pattern, even just lately? To understand this question, and its ramifications, let’s take a look back into the past, but less than a few hundred years. When this country began, our founding fathers put forth this concept that “all men are created equal”. It wasn’t as novel an idea as you think; the colonies didn’t invent freedom, we just popularized it and generated a standard. The thing is, though, that even then, we weren’t equal. A better translation of their ideals would be “all white landowning men are created equal by arbitrary divine decree”. Yes, the founding fathers were not Christian, but they were theists. In fact, most of them were deists. Rather, their ideas suggested a true belief in deism, and a personal rejection of church notions.  I’ll let you look that one up on your own. Anyway, the reality is that women and people of darker skin were not treated as equals, and would not legally be so until much, much later in history. Even today that women and minorities are on legally equal footing, we’re not actually equal. We still have a ways to go. But my point is that things have progressed, so when you fight further progression, do you honestly believe that you’re going to “win”? Do you really think that a hundred years from now, your descendants are going to be as homophobic as you are? Can you honestly not look down the road and see where this is going? I mean, it’s painfully obvious to me. You even refer to my school of thought as progressive. Why would you do that if you didn’t know in your heart of hearts that my reality is the one we’re going to be living in? I mean, nobody goes to a “make America great again” rally and calls it progressive, do they? Its very point is going back to where we were before; back to when women weren’t allowed to vote, and black people weren’t allowed to drink from the same water fountain. It is a fool who believes that the past exists in the future. The past being in the past is just a basic principle of time and causality; one that I learned as a child. The fact that you’ve not yet learned it as an adult is horrifying, and automatically renders your opinion completely meaningless. You ever see the sun rise at night? Didn’t think so. Even if you didn’t have the opportunity to pass seventh grade, come on...come on. You’re not just an opposing force; you’re on the wrong side of history. Any dipshit can see that.

Perspective Sixty-Five

Microstory 288: Perspective Sixty-Three

Click here for a list of every perspective.

Perspective Sixty-Two

Even with this “love is love” campaign, and others like it, people like me and my family have trouble with public perceptions. Sure, things are better than they used to be, and I have to believe that, but we still have a ways to go. It would seem as though society is finally all right with two people of the same sex being with each other. You still have your holdouts—backwards hicks and smarmy politicians (i.e. people whose opinions don’t matter)—but for the most part, we’re moving not only past hatred, but past tolerance, and into acceptance. It is believed by many that acceptance of transgendered people is our last hurdle, but it’s only the most obvious one. In fact, the world’s increasing appreciation of sexuality is about recognizing the differences in who people are at their core, but says little about practice. As an example, lots of people are all right with gay people, as long as they don’t have to hear the specifics. The question of group marriage or polyamory, however, involves how people behave in their daily lives. Gay people are gay because that’s who they are, but polyamorous people are strange because of what they do, and how they act. But we are not so different from you, as a well-adjusted person would be able to see. Most people will not understand this word upon hearing it, but upon learning its definition, will make snap judgments about the family. We are assumed to be wandering sex-obsessed indecisive deviants. The words I hear most often are “hippie” and “tree-hugger”. Much like bisexuals, the assumption is that we simply cannot decide who to love, and so we just take what we have at the moment, comforted in the fact that the relationships do not have to last forever.

I would like to clear up a few misconceptions. We are not polygamists. Polygamy has a deep history of imbalance, rape, and a sort of numbers game. It is so much a male-centric concept that polygamist relationships with one woman and multiple men uses a completely different word, and is considered even weirder than the normal kind. Certain mormon sects practice a form of polygamy where underaged girls are forced into marriages because they’re raised to believe that this is their duty in life. And when they consummate these marriages with their “husbands” it’s called rape, because it is not consensual. It can’t be, because they’re only married because they’re told they have to be, and to this specific man. You can call it sex-slavery, if you prefer that term instead. And it’s a numbers game because a higher number of wives indicates notoriety and respect. Polyamory, on the other hand, is a form of relationship based on love, mutual expression, consent, and everything else that composes any other kind of relationship. My husbands and wives are all in this together. For us, there is no “primary relationship”. We are all bisexual, and we are each in love with all the others. No two of us are legally married to each other, because we believe that this would distort the group dynamic. We have sex as a whole, in smaller groups, and as couples. Our family is particularly large, I admit, but the standard criteria stipulates only a minimum of three people. We want to be heard and accepted, just like anyone else, but we understand that other changes need to take place before these things will be put forth in legislation, or even the media. And so we patiently wait our turn.

Perspective Sixty-Four

Microstory 287: Perspective Sixty-Two

Click here for a list of every perspective.

Perspective Sixty-One

Our son is not well, and we feel so bad about not liking him. Sure, we love him with all our heart, but he just keeps disappointing us. He always has another half-baked idea, and then he fails to follow through on it. They say that you’re supposed to love your children equally, but his brothers and sisters turned out okay, and we can’t help but notice. It’s so frustrating, because we kind of feel like he’s constantly pushing us to our limits; like he’s testing our patience. His ex-girlfriend just asked us for money so that she can move out and find her own place. We’ve given it to her, because we’ve always treated her like another daughter, and that’s what you do with family. Our son is gonna be mad about it, though, because that means it really is over. He’s been in denial about it, but this is what’s best;  they are not living under a healthy dynamic. Part, if not most, of how he can be is our fault. He was our first child that we had when we were really young. I guess we’re not as ashamed to admit it now that times have changed, but the pregnancy began when we were still seventeen, and not yet married. Unfortunately for him, he was our practice run; a situation that was completely unavoidable once we decided to keep the baby. We did a much better job with our later children. We were able to raise them with some consistency. We couldn’t figure out how to deal with him, so we would switch between coddling him and being angry and unrelenting. Of course that was wrong, and we’ve tried to make it up to him, but the damage has been done. Looking back, we think he may have some sort of learning disability that should have been taken care of. And that’s an excuse, but one that will only take you so far. At some point, once you’re an adult, you have to just grow up and get over it. You can’t use it to justify your actions, especially if you’re not willing to get a diagnosis and seek treatment. It’s time he takes control of his own life, and honestly, gets his shit together. A family friend suggested he get a service dog for mental health. Apparently it’s done wonders for their niece. We don’t think we can help him through it, though. It seems as though the only person who he’ll listen to is his little sister’s wife. Well...one of them, that is.

Perspective Sixty-Three

Microstory 286: Perspective Sixty-One

Click here for a list of every perspective.

Perspective Sixty

I broke up with my boyfriend a while ago, but he can’t seem to get it through his head. It sure doesn’t help that we bought a condo together, and I can’t move out. I don’t have the money to find somewhere else, and more importantly, he doesn’t have the money to buy me out. I kind of feel like he tricked me into continuing with this relationship. Not long after we got this place, he announced that he was going to become a clown. Before he even started classes, he started walking around in costume and makeup. He says that he’s doing it to get over his fear of clowns, but that’s one of the most ridiculous things I’ve ever heard. Overcoming your fears is one thing, but adopting them isn’t normal. To make matters worse, he and I share this fear of clowns, so he’s constantly scaring me, and he doesn’t even seem to care. As long as he’s happy, he figures that I should step into character and be happy too. Well, that’s not how the world works, and I wish I knew how to explain these things to him. I am this close to just living out of my car. That might be preferable to what I’m about to do. I don’t have any family, but I actually grew pretty close to my ex-boyfriend’s parents. They have an idea of what our situation is, and I’m about to ask them for some money. Oh my God, it’s going to be so awkward, but I think they’ll understand. They’ve known their son longer than I have, so they know how he can be. I already tried asking my boss for an advance, but that didn’t work out. It’s not her fault, the business doesn’t have the money either. I guess we’re all in the same boat. Okay, I’ve been standing at the front door for a few minutes. They probably know I’m here by now. I just have to give this a shot. What’s the worst that could happen, they reject me? If they do, I’ll just rob a bank. How hard could it be? Here goes nothing.

Perspective Sixty-Two

The Advancement of Mateo Matic: May 14, 2068

« < » > Table of Contents

Darko threaded them through a couple of commercial aircraft all the way back to Kansas where they spent most of the day catching up with their family. Mateo, Leona, and Darko were in the bedroom together, trying to play a card game later that evening. “Can anyone else do what you do?” Leona asked, out of the blue.

“I’ve not encountered anyone else, no,” Darko said. “Not even a salmon, which I find somewhat strange.”

“Why would that be strange?” Leona asked.

“Well, it’s clearly physically possible to thread an object. And the powers that be like their time travel with as much variety as possible; portals, flash jumps, blinkouts, shuddering. It’s just weird that I appear to be the only threader. It makes me quite a bit weaker than some other choosers I know. The more specific your flavor is, the less powerful you are, as you can imagine. That’s why Meliora is such a big deal. She has very few limitations, if any.”

“That’s Melly’s full name?”

“It is. I actually think she prefers it.”

“Do you choosers all, like, know each other? You hang out at the Y and have Saturday game nights?”

Darko laughed, “we run into each other now and again. All of time and space, and our paths cross more often than you would think. I guess we just run in the same circles.”

“What makes you different than salmon? Why do the powers not control you, and how do you seem to understand it better than others we’ve met?”

“The only person who knows less than salmon is the Delegator. You people are purposefully kept in the dark, and he’s just insane. What you might find surprising is that many choosers know less than salmon. This is because they’re not bound by tasks and expectations. We jump through the timestream to our liking, and usually only do what we want. Choosers are like orphans, while salmon know who they’re parents are, because they’re living by house rules. That’s actually only half an analogy since most choosers aren’t raised by their parents, as I’m sure you’ve heard by now. I was raised differently, and so Meliora read me in personally.”

“Why is it that we were told powers and choosers were the same thing?”

“Choosers often take on the persona of powers. They’re false prophets, but salmon believe them because why wouldn’t you? They can be powerful, yes—especially the Rogue and the Cleanser—but they’re just lying.”

“What do you know about the powers that be? The actual ones.”

“Very little. Meliora says she doesn’t know much. One thing we do know is that they are not from the future. That’s usually the assumption, just because it’s a logical conclusion. That’s all I can say.”

“It’s not much, but I should expect no less from you.” A stranger had appeared in their room.

All three of them instinctively jumped into defensive positions. “Who the hell are you?” Mateo demanded to know.

“I am the new Daria.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I should clarify; I was made as Daria’s replacement. There is always a teleporter who goes around helping people, like Bruce Banner. And I’m the lucky guy.”

Mateo let his guard down a little at Daria’s name, but the other two were not so easily moved. “Do you know this man, Darko?” Leona asked.

“I do not, but what he’s saying is a real thing,” Darko admitted. “The Savior is a special position. Your father can jump around time to complete missions. There only ever needs to be one of him, and they’ll call him in when necessary. But a teleporter is fixed within their own lifespan, which means if the powers that be need something done following the Savior’s death, they’ll need a new one.”

“I was born upon Daria’s retirement, and I was activated following her death. I guess they used an interim savior in the meantime.”

Mateo outstretched his hand. “It’s nice to meet you. I don’t know what you know of us, but I’m Mateo, and this is Leona and Darko.”

They were still not receptive to the stranger.

“You can call me Makarion.”

“Interesting name.”

“Taken from a character in a saga that was running around the time I was born. You missed it.”

“Well,” Mateo tried to calm his people down. “The Savior is welcome in our home.”

“Don’t be so quick to judge,” Makarion said.

“I’m sorry?”

“I was activated as the Savior, but that’s not what I am anymore.”

“What are you talking about?”

“A few years back, I met the Rogue.”

“Oh no, please no,” Leona said, shaking her head.

“He taught me how to take control of my pattern,” Makarion continued.

“This can’t be happening.” She started rubbing her head and pivoting out of frustration and general fatigue.

Mateo put his face in his palms.

Makarion went on, “I owe him my life. So I became his apprentice. Should anything happen to him, I was charged with continuing his mission. I’m here, not to introduce you to the new Savior, but to the new Rogue.”

“Jesus, Mary and Joseph!” Mateo cried.

“I knew this would happen,” Leona lamented. “I knew we wouldn’t be through with his games.”

“Don’t worry, there will be no tribulation today. He told you that you would have breaks in between. He was angry with how you handled the prison tribulation, which is why he prolonged the next four, but we’re going back to the original plan now.”

“You don’t have to do this,” Darko pleaded. “Just walk away...teleport away and leave us all alone.”

“I’m afraid I can’t do that.”

“He’s dead!” Mateo was still yelling. “Whatever debt you felt towards the Rogue, it’s done; it’s over! Let it go!”

“No!”

“He taught you to take control of your power,” Leona said. “So don’t waste it on us. You can go wherever you want. Rob a few banks, build a lair in the desert, fight some paladins; we don’t care! But don’t trade one master for another. If you continue the Rogue’s ambitions, then you might as well be answering to the powers that be again. Because you’re still not a freethinking individual.”

“I don’t see them as the same. The Rogue has no hold on me. This is my choice.”

“It’s not, because you hate us like he did. Which makes no sense, because you have different motivation, if he ever even had one.”

“I share his dream,” Makarion said.

“And what might that be?” Darko asked.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Makarion volleyed.

Mateo sort of ushered Leona and Darko to the corner, not to protect them, but so that he could foster Makarion’s undivided attention. He peered at their new enemy and waited, hoping it was possible to instill fear in him. “Do you know what happened to the last two men who opposed me?”

“Of course I do, we were just talking about the last one. They died.”

“They didn’t just die,” Mateo said. He put on his best crazy eyes. “I killed them. I murdered them.”

“The Cleanser killed Reaver. And I would hardly call what you did to the Rogue murder.”

“The Cleanser and I are good buds.”

“I don’t believe you.”

Mateo laughed sinisterly. “Horace Reaver was in prison. And he was gonna die there, before too long, I’m sure. The Cleanser wants to rid the world of time travel.” He raised his voice and started talking with his hands. “Well, Reaver was not a threat. He was just sitting there, in his little rat cage, with his little rat food. His story was over, but I was angry, and I was done with watching him suffer, so I ended it. I deployed the Cleanser, and he took care of it for me. So if you think you can come in here with your little Crowley act and scare me, then you clearly don’t know who you’re dealing with.”

Makarion was noticeably afraid, but stubborn and determined to persist. “Your eighth tribulation begins tomorrow. I suggest you watch the movie.”

“What movie?” Mateo asked, knowing the answer would be revealed soon.

Makarion disappeared in a sharp but short-lasting flash of light, leaving behind a a now very deprecated DVD. Leona picked it up. “The Martian.”

“Never heard of it.”

« < » > Table of Contents