Saturday, December 3, 2016

Clean Sweep: Absolute Power (Part IV)

There are certain objects in the the world of time manipulators that possess temporal powers of their own. A handful of these are natural, but most were created by someone whose temporal power allowed them to do so. A few of them are a combination of the two. For instance, time mirrors are composed of glass sourced from the sands of Atlantis, forged by the fires of Mount Wingen. Extraction mirrors, of which there is actually only one, can be created using sand from Uluru, and fire from Baba Gurgur. Immortality, meanwhile, can be found in the proper mixing of a number of different water sources all over the world.
Temporal objects are used by choosing ones and other time travelers in order to accomplish some task, often one that enhances their natural powers. Baudin carries a bone stake that can warp time around it while constructing complex architectural structures. The Navigator is actually just a regular human who found the Compass of Disturbance, and travels time and space using temporal rifts.  The Warrior too was born human, but uses the Sword of Assimilation to steal other people’s power. The Artist has a number of tools, each with multiple functions, that he uses to create people capable of temporal manipulation. And it was his objects that allowed Zeferino Preston to survive his apparent death. He had cut the neck of The Mass using the Sword of Assimilation just before the Artist tried to kill him with his special gouge. This confluence of events forced Zeferino’s mind into the body of the Mass, making him one of the most powerful forces in the universe.
Zeferino now possessed a plethora of temporal powers that he did not before. He could jump back and forth through time at will, create temporal bubbles capable of speeding up or slowing time in a localized area, witness events from an observation dimension, and many more. Unfortunately for him, the Mass came with one flaw. The Artist had written a sort of code that prevented his newest creation from lasting more than a few seconds at any one point in time and space. Though he never got a chance to implement this before it was accidentally given to chooser Aquila Bellamy, he had already provided it with a certain level of time sensitivity. While in the body of the Mass, Zeferino could go to any time and any place he wanted, but he would not be able to stay there very long. The code, as it were, was fickle, and did not always give him the same amount of time with each jump, but it always took him away eventually, and he was never able to return. He could never correct a mistake, or help a past version of himself.
His limitations, despite his enormous power, frustrated him greatly. He could do a great deal of things, but he was not perfect, and was notably vulnerable to the desires and decisions of the choosing ones and the powers that be. He spent a lot of time as The Cleaner, using his original power of course correcting the timeline to keep everyone in check, but they would always be able to undo his work, and he would never be able to try again. The best he could do was send his consciousness back in time a few minutes at most, but this was not usually all that helpful.
At some point in his new life, his anger over his feelings of helplessness overcame his contentment with what power he did wield. He transformed into something different; something new. He even changed his name. He became The Cleanser. He decided to make it his mission to destroy every single person capable of manipulating time in any way, shape, or form. His first victim was a salmon criminal known as Horace Reaver, for he knew that no one would miss him. Reaver was being kept in a special glass prison cube, by the order of the powers that be. He was being guarded by a contingency of men who had become intertwined with him and his temporal shenanigans. So first, Zeferino banished them from the scene so that he could have a conversation with his primary target in peace. He would then apport them back, and kill them all at once.
Reaver, shocked by the guards’ unexplained disappearance, called out, “hello?”
Zeferino sighed, “yes, hello. I am here.”
“Could I ask you for your name?” Reaver replied, with honest congeniality.
“I was intending on keeping you in the dark,” Zeferino replied. In fact, in an alternate version of this conversation, I think that I did. But I’ve decided that I’d like to set the record straight on a few things. First of all, the choosing ones, and the powers that be, are not the same thing. They are two completely different sets of people, with different motivations, different power, and different weakness.”
“Okay...”
“Which means that, two; your daughter is a choosing one, and cannot be a power that be, which means that she has no conflict of interest. There is no family conflict of interest. She could have sent you back in time to fix your mistakes if she wanted, but she chose not to. She might have avoided it out of fear of natural consequences, but she’s pretty powerful, I doubt those affect her all that much.”
“What?”
“I can see you’re confused. That’s okay, I didn’t expect much from you. I just want you to know that I’m planning on killing every single person in the universe with any sort of ability to manipulate time. I don’t care whether we’re talking about someone as insignificant as a guy who can see the future, or as powerful as your daughter. They’re goin’ down, and I’m not doing it because time travel is wrong. I’m doing it to consolidate my power. When all time travelers are dead, then what are you left with? Me. I’ll still be here, and I will shape the timeline to my choosing, and I won’t have any weaknesses, and no one will be able to stop me.”
Reaver took in a deep breath, and Zeferino couldn’t tell whether he ever let it out. “Fine with me, I don’t know why you’re telling me this. I’m in prison, I don’t care.”
“After I kill you, I’m probably gonna kill Mateo Matic.”
Reaver laughed. “You can try. He won’t go down easy, though.”
“It doesn’t have to be easy. It can also be fun.”
“Well, good luck with thaaaat,” he said sarcastically.
“At some point, I’ll have to kill Meliora too.”
“I know, and I’m fine.”
“You’re fine with me killing your daughter?”
“No. Mateo is a survivor, but you might be able to best him. Melly, on the other hand, is a whole different story. I’m completely confident that you would never be able to kill her. You should get rid of Mateo first, because he will likely show you he’s more resourceful than you think, and it’ll warm you up to everyone else. But you should go after Melly last, because the only way you survive is if she has no hope.”
“I appreciate the advice.”
“Like I said, I don’t think it’ll matter anyway, though.”
“Well, we’ll see. I mean, you won’t, because you’re done now. But I’ll see.”
“Right, of course.”
Bored with the conversation, and true to his word, Zeferino brought all the guards back, but now inside of the cube, so that they could all die from the explosion.
Killing Horace Reaver was not nearly as satisfying as Zeferino thought it would be. He also felt bad about killing the guards along with him, because they were innocent, and were incapable of manipulating time on their own. He chose to very not take Reaver’s advice to begin his mission by killing Mateo. He went after a few smaller game first, but they proved to be more difficult than he imagined. Maybe this wasn’t going to be as simple as he figured.

Friday, December 2, 2016

Microstory 465: Floor 21 (Part 2)

Project Manager 2: Hey man, what’s got you down? The lock...uh, down? The lockdown? Sorry.
Project Manager 1: Oh no, it’s got nothin’ to do with that. They locked us out of the system, so I can’t even do busy work. That’s really been the only thing that’s kept me from a complete meltdown over this window business.
Project Manager 2: Ah yeah, I get it. It’s a real bummer. All those people who died, and now some of our people are dying? It’s crazy. So crazy.
Project Manager 1: I mean, it’s not that. I feel responsible. You can blame the designers or builders until the cows come home, but the fact is they can’t do their jobs well if they don’t have the one thing that we’re all trying to get more of.
Project Manager 2: You mean, money?
Project Manager 1: Well yes, but not that. No, I’m talking about time.
Project Manager 2: Of course, that was my next guess.
Project Manager 1: Time is supposed to work for me. I’m a sodding project manager, and I failed. I failed this company, and I failed those victims. I’m a failure.
Project Manager 2: Yes well, if you make a point of assuming responsibility for every problem in the world, I suppose that would make you feel bad.
Project Manager 1: Come on, you know what I mean. This was important stuff. Someone messed up, I’ll give you that. Somebody screwed up something about the windows that led to the deaths, and I do not take responsibility for that. What I do take responsibility for how the general process went. Maybe someone felt rushed, and I didn’t give them enough time. Again, it’s my job to know how to organize all that, and to prepare for unforeseen circumstances.
Project Manager 2: Oh okay, so you’re worried that you made some kind of mistake that resulted in someone else making some other mistake.
Project Manager 1: Yeah exactly, that’s what I’m saying. Bottom line, the buck stops with me.
Project Manager 2: Well no, the buck stops with us. We’re a team, and frankly it’s insulting to the rest of us that you absorb all this pain over a problem that we all had a hand in. And this is all theoretical, because all you’re giving me is hypotheticals anyway. We have no evidence that we did anything wrong at all. Maybe the machinist was going through a terrible divorce. Maybe a pen exploded and obstructed the installation instructions. There are too many variables. Not even a master of time such as yourself can see them all, let alone do something about them.
Project Manager 1: All right, I get it. My ego is the real problem here.
Project Manager 2: That’s right, you’re getting smarter. Now, come on. There are plenty of things we could do without access to the system.
Project Manager 1: There are, like what?
Project Manager 2: When is the last time you played paper football?
Project Manager 1: Depends on what you mean by football.

Thursday, December 1, 2016

Microstory 464: Floor 22 (Part 2)

Designer: I shouldn’t have to tell you to get back.
Coworker: Hey, man, we’re just talkin’. Everything’s okay.
Designer: And don’t try that thing where you climb up here and tell me that you’ll jump if I jump. Or that you just feel like standing on a ledge. I’m not a sociopath, but I still don’t care about you. If you have a deathwish, that’s fine by me.
Coworker: No, I won’t do that. And don’t freak out. I’m just getting close so we can have a conversation. It’s dangerous for you to twist around like that, and it’s rude for you to not look me in the eyes.
Designer: Okay. Just...don’t try anything.
Coworker: I won’t. Now tell me what the problem is.
Designer: Have you been living under a rock? The company has been having major problems. People have died. And it’s all my fault. I don’t know what I did. My designs should be fine, but they won’t let me back into the system to find out what went wrong.
Coworker: Maybe you don’t need to find out what went wrong, because maybe nothing went wrong.
Designer: What is that supposed to mean?
Coworker: Maybe your designs had nothing to do with it. Maybe it’s someone else’s fault. There’s probably a legal reason they won’t release the designs, but that doesn’t mean they were the cause. Maybe Analion is keeping them from you to protect you. Have you considered that?
Designer: Of course not. Because that would be stupid.
Coworker: It’s possible, but the fact is that you don’t know anything. You don’t know that it’s your fault. You don’t know that anyone blames you. You don’t know that they’re gonna fire you. Killing yourself when you don’t have all the answers is foolish...at best.
Designer: People have blamed me for it, just not officially. I hear the whispers.
Coworker: Okay, well you show me ten rumors, and I’ll show you nine lies.
Designer: This is the tenth rumor. This is my fault. I know it. I don’t need the designs, or to be fired. I know.
Coworker: Must be nice. Being so well-informed. Perhaps when this whole suicide charade is over, you can tell me who’s gonna win the vector tournament.
Designer: Very funny. And this is not a charade. Nor is it a cry for help. I’m just...waiting for my moment.
Coworker: I say go ahead and jump. Then it’ll be my fault. But don’t worry, you wouldn’t be the first person I’ve killed.
Designer: What do you mean by that? Who did you kill?
Coworker: When I was eight years old, I was full of little else but anger. Most of this anger was directed at my parents. I felt very much that they didn’t care about me, so I decided to test that when we were at the beach one day. I swam out farther than I was allowed to, and started to pretend that I was drowning. I started waving my arms around and crying out for help. Well, help came. My father didn’t hesitate to swim out to me as fast as he could, even though he had a heart condition, and shouldn’t have been in the water so soon after surgery. He was supposed to be relaxing. He had a second heart attack, which he probably could have survived if he hadn’t drowned.
Designer: Oh my God.
Coworker: I can’t tell you to not jump, but I can tell you that I didn’t. My mother and I didn’t speak for years, but now we’re closer than we ever were. The shame never goes away, but you have to ask yourself one question. Should it?

Wednesday, November 30, 2016

Microstory 463: Floor 23 (Part 2)

Security Guard: Thank you for coming in. And sorry about this whole lockdown thing. I know it’s kind of scary, but don’t worry. Everything’s being taken care of, and I assure you that you are in no danger.
Mick Daniel: That’s fine, I’m not scared. I’m just not sure what I’m doing here at all. I don’t work for Analion anymore.
Security Guard: I understand that. Would you like a glass of water?
Mick Daniel: Thank you, no.
Security Guard: Now, Mister Daniel, I would like to speak to you about your time at the company. You were in the mailroom, right?
Mick Daniel: I was.
Security Guard: And you didn’t work anywhere else? You were always in the mailroom?
Mick Daniel: That’s right. What is this about? It feels like an interrogation.
Security Guard: Oh no, we’re just talkin’. I’m just trying to get some background information so I have some idea of what you know about what happened.
Mick Daniel: I know nothing.
Security Guard: Did you enjoy working here?
Mick Daniel: Not really, that’s why I quit.
Security Guard: Did you feel...unappreciated, underemployed, looked down upon?
Mick Daniel: I was the mail guy. I know I wasn’t the CEO. People treated me fine.
Security: So you didn’t harbor any ill feelings towards Analion, or anyone within it?
Mick Daniel: It sounds like you’re asking if I screwed up the windows or something.
Security Guard: Oh no, of course not, definitely not. That would be ludicrous.
Mick Daniel: Okay, okay.
Security Guard: You may have had something to do with leaking information to the authorities, however.
Mick Daniel: Are you serious?
Security Guard: It’s a simple question.
Mick Daniel: You didn’t ask me a question.
Security Guard: You were a computer science major?
Mick Daniel: I was, yes.
Security Guard: Why didn’t you go into the field? Why did you just get a job in a mailroom?
Mick Daniel: The economy. The market.
Security Guard: The IT industry is booming.
Mick Daniel: Not for the kind of computer work that I wanted to do.
Security Guard: And what might that be?
Mick Daniel: Look, I don’t have to answer your questions. You obviously wanted to be a detective, but here you are with a maroon vest and a can of pepper spray. Sometimes we take jobs when we deserve something better. That’s why I quit, and why you should too.
Security Guard: You sure you didn’t quit because of what you did?
Mick Daniel: I did nothing. And this is over. You have a good day. I’m late for work.
Security Guard [on the radio]: Target is on the move.
Rover Guard [through the radio]: This isn’t a game, Security Guard. Stop questioning the employees.

Tuesday, November 29, 2016

Microstory 462: Floor 24 (Part 2)

Special Projects Supervisor: Newest Intern, could you gather everyone for me, please?
Newest Intern: Everyone, everyone! Please gather ‘round! Yes, everyone! The supervisor needs to speak!
Supervisor: [...] Thank you, Newest Intern. I would like to start off by saying that you have all done an amazing job, and we’re all very proud of you. I have just received some unsettling news. The rumors have turned out to be true. Well, some of them have. There are those that believe that Analion is being shut down for good, and that may end up happening, to some extent. For now, however, the organization is making smaller changes. You see, you can’t build something all at once—
Random Worker: Get to the point!
Supervisor: Yes, of course, sorry about that. Sometimes I get in my own head and don’t know how to get out.
Random Worker: Again...!
Supervisor: Right. If you want it quick, then you got it. You’re fired. Actually, we’re fired. You get a new job! You get a new job! You get a new job! I get a new job! You don’t have to go home, but you can’t work here. It's something unpredictable, but in the end it's right. I hope you...remember your bobble heads and computer screen squeegees.  Go sail away, go sail away, go sail
Random Worker: Enough! We get it, asshole!
Supervisor: I want you to know what an honor it’s been working with all of you. It’s touching how quickly you’re dispersing. I’m leaving too, don’t think I’m happy about this either. That was a song, but I’m serious. Clean out your desk, they don’t want any of it. And when I tell you to clean it out, that’s exactly what I mean. Take the office supplies, the computer, hell the desk and chair too, if you want. They’re just gonna donate them anyway.
Newest Intern [quietly]: Um, sir, are they really gonna let us have the computers? That sounds expensive.
Supervisor: It is, very. I imagine someone’s gonna be upset when they find out we all stole from the company.
Newest Intern: What do you mean? That was a lie?
Supervisor: Yeah, but look at ‘em. They’re sad, but they’re happy. It’s like a happysa—well, they’re gonna get a free computer at least. And maybe a stapler. That should be good enough for now.
Newest Intern: Sir. Was this department really laid off?
Supervisor: No, look. Everybody quit. All at once. Should make for an interesting tomorrow.
Newest Intern: Sir?
Supervisor: You’ll be fine. We’ll both find jobs somewhere better. For now, just enjoy the circus. It’s our last...special project.

Monday, November 28, 2016

Microstory 461: Floor 25 (Part 2)

General Counsel: Research Lawyer, could I speak to you for a minute?
Research Lawyer: Yes, sir, coming, sir.
GC: How long have you worked here?
Research Lawyer: Too long to be fired, and not long enough to be fired. Sir.
GC: Cute answer, but I’m serious. I assure you 110% that you are not being fired.
Research Lawyer: Three years, sir.
GC: Do you enjoy working here? Do you like spending all your time reading law books, researching precedents, and preparing reports.
Research Lawyer: I do, sir, yes. I love it. I find it to be phenomenally rewarding. I’m the kind of woman who likes to get to the answer. I like winning, sir.
GC: Quite. But have you ever aspired to do something more? Have you ever wanted to interact with our clients, and the opposition? Have you ever wanted to work upstairs?
Research Lawyer: To be honest, sir, I have thought about it. I’ve never made any attempt to do so, you’ve probably noticed that. I’ve never put in a request, or even tried to drop hints. I would be honored by a promotion, but I can’t say I’ve ever truly considered it. Like I said, I like finding the answer. I cannot say whether I would be 110% happy with moving upstairs, but I can tell you one thing: I would be happy with contributing to this organization in any way you, or it, feels is necessary. If you want me up there, sir, then I promise to give you my 110%. Sir.
GC: A fine answer, I would say, but we would need to work on it. I would require you take some classes. I know you went over this stuff in law school, but I have developed a specific program designed to teach lawyers how to communicate with others. We wouldn’t be teaching you to lie, mind you, but you would learn how to hold back your strategy until it’s time to release it. Am I making myself clear?
Research Lawyer: You are, sir, yes. Very well said, sir.
GC: Good. Well, I’m afraid I’ll have to insist on you moving on up. We’re not firing all our lawyers, but we need some change. This whole window business has gotten us in a bind, worsened by all these deaths. I need a fresh face, Research Lawyer, and I think you’re the perfect one for the job.
Research Lawyer: Thank you, sir! Like I said, I would be honored. I won’t let you down, just tell me what to do.
GC: Just start with packing up your things. Any maybe go to the nursery and buy some houseplants. This place is depressing.
Research Lawyer: Yes, sir!