Microstory 599: How PROSAIC Took Over the World

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What began as a vampire uprising years ago transformed into something more sinister than anything anyone not involved could have predicted. I write these words knowing that my life is forfeit, but if I can open even two people’s eyes to the truth, than I believe it to be worth it. Besides, I am one of the last remaining people who were alive when the vampire plague hit, so I know what was like before that. And I know that we can find that world once more, but we’ll have to to do it together. Rather, you’ll have to do it. Even if they don’t catch me, I’m old, and won’t be around much longer. First, you’ll need a quick history lesson.

When the first vampire plague hit the shores of a remote island chain, the small group of heroes who quashed it thought that it would be over. What they didn’t realize was that this was merely a test run, and that the instigators of this horror would later tweak their formula using unexpected data from this test, and deploy another wave. The second wave was global, but it spread so gradually that people didn’t think much of it. Sure, it affected nearly the entire vampire population, but the symptoms were minor, and the effects not lasting. A few isolated vampires discovered that following the recovery from this pathogen, they were afforded new abilities. Upon drinking the blood on amber, a vampire could enjoy heightened strength, increased speed, and a deeper resilience to the light and heat. Of course, for most vampires, this was a nice gift, but it wouldn’t make them any more dangerous to the world than they already were. Afterall, if they wanted to hurt someone that bad, they could just use a machine gun. The stringe vampires, however—those with a history of criminal recidivism—saw this as an opportunity, and some began making plans to exploit their new advantages. But still, their uprising was not as violent as it could have been. The stringes wanted to take control of the world’s resources, but they didn’t want to hurt anyone. What they didn’t plan on was a completely unrelated group of people deciding to carry out their own political exploits.

Following the usurpation of many of the world’s leaders by vampire criminals, a secret organization made itself known to the world, and took this power for themselves. They were known as PROSAIC, and up until this point, their existence was only rumored within the confines of conspiracy message boards, and basement units of intelligence agencies. As it turned out, the PROspective Social Adjudication Invocation Contingency was very real, and—as I might point out, since I’m not long for this world—a ridiculously named group more concerned with acronyms than reality. PROSAIC was formed at an unknown period in history, long before the vampire plague ever began, with one purpose: to infiltrate governments, and establish secretly amadesin high members in positions of leadership. They succeeded in this endeavor, but could not have done it without the help of one man. One crazy old man.

Ronald Grump (real name) “served” as the oldest president of Usonia in history. Documents would later reveal that he suffered from severe age-related neurological complications which resulted in a number of poor policy decisions. He won the office due to a division in the country. There were those who wanted to progress and bring the world together, but there was also a group of isolationists who wanted to close the nation’s borders. These were thought to be the bigoted fringes of society, but what Grump’s opponents did not understand, was that about half the country felt this way, if only to a small degree. Ronald Grump wasn’t as odious as his constituents...but he knew he could prey on their stupidity to gain their votes. What the world did not know at the time was that Grump had formed a secret agreement with the amadesin faction that would later take over the world. Though he was not technically one of them—his faith being relegated to the pure accumulation of wealth—he helped them. He allowed them to make decisions for him while he spent most of his time playing golf on the southeastern coast of the country. He set a number of bad precedents, corrupting the office of the presidency by ignoring diplomatic measures. In the end, he was the worst president in history, and would have been even if he hadn’t gotten into bed with the amadesins. To understand what happens next, you’ll have to read Part II of this three-part series, which will be posting next week...if I’m still alive, and my servers remain intact for lon

Microstory 598: Group of Ambers Provide Aid Following Disaster; Form Paramilitary ‘Brigade’

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In the days following the unexpected onslaught of Hurricane 905-11 on the coast of Carolina, a record number of volunteers traveled from all over the country—and even internationally—to provide aid to those in need. Hundreds of people were killed, thousands of people were injured, and millions of people suffered damage to their homes in the most damaging tropical cyclone in recent historical memory. The people who gave up their time and money to help perfect strangers who lived hours away from them are, without question, heroes. Experts believe the high number of volunteer aidsman can be attributed to the invention, and proliferation, of the home radio receiver, but this does not take away their bravery. It has shown the world that humans are probably inherently good, and that those who can help, likely will. But a special group of these people did more by taking this horrendous event, and turning it into something good. The Usonan government and its military were unable to engage in their rescue efforts in a timely manner. We are still so technologically inadvanced that organizing and mobilizing an entire national guard in times of crises is difficult, at best. Fortunately, there were those in the area who could fill in for official rescuers until they could arrive.

Roloff Hopson formed The Amber Brigade two years ago in order to create an amber community in northeastern Georgia. Though ambers have generally felt no hostility from the standard human population, many appreciate having a place they can go, knowing that everyone around them has at least this much in common. The name was meant to be more a joke, with plans to rename it based on suggestions from its then-current members, but this never happened, and they all just agreed to keep it. As it turns out, they couldn’t have picked anything better. Up until now, the Brigade has met two or three times a week at an abandoned theatre that Hopson’s late aunt had bequested to him upon his death. Hopson and his new friends, which numbered a few hundred now, were at one of these meetings when news of Hurricane Eleven broke out. A few of them immediately wanted to spring into action, and do whatever they could for the victims. These few possessed abilities that gave them each an advantage against water, wind, or debris...but they were not the only ones who wanted to take action. Soon, a dozen more followed, then another dozen, and then more...until only children and single parents remained. Nearly all of them caravanned to the most dangerous areas affected by the storm, and began rescuing people. Totals for their rescues have not yet been calculated, but it’s estimated that they saved the lives of at least as many people as they had in their own group.

For the rest of the month, the Amber Brigade continued to support the survivors of Hurricane Eleven, working in shelters, transporting people to families in other regions, and searching for anyone who may be trapped or stranded. Meanwhile, Hopson and the rest of the organization’s leadership began talks for transforming the Brigade into an actual paramilitary agency. Details have not yet been finalized, and they still have a long way to go in order to comply with all national laws, but we already know a few things. This new Amber Brigade will allow membership from anyone; including regular humans, vampirs, and werewolves. Though still to be based in Augusta, it will include chapters in multiple major cities, and be expanded on an as-needed basis. The ultimate goal of the Brigade is to create as many chapters as possible, spread out across as much of the country as possible. While the military branches of the government cannot possibly be stationed in all places, the Brigade will supplement their forces with volunteers. It will also require far less of a commitment than that of an aidsman, and be focused primarily on relief and service, rather than military strategies. In fact, Brigade leadership is currently working with government representatives in order to determine whether any military training should be added in the at all. An official announcement will be held over the radio today from the capital. New information, including the steps necessary to join, is expected to be provided at this time.

Microstory 597: Last Giant Dies

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The shortest-living intelligent species in the world was the giant, and the ultimate consequence of this fact was realized yesterday when the last giant died following a life of heart disease, along with other health complications. Wizards first drew up the plans for giant humans centuries ago, though never actually created them, likely due to the problems they eventually endured. Unfortunately, the fairies ended up getting their hands on this information, and had no problems acting on it. The average human is about 7.5 sheam in height, with the upper limit sitting right around 10 sheam. Species that are related to humans, like elves and veratope, tend to fall within the same range. Meanwhile, werewolves and dwarves are generally shorter. Giants, on the other hand, average twice the size of the standard human, towering over the ground at 20 sheam. Prehistoric avians, of course, could get much larger than that, but they evolved with certain biological characteristics that prevented them from experiencing the same issues as giants did. The first thing to understand is that scaling up a creature does not require a linear formula. Though giants were twice the size of us, they were eight times our mass, which meant that they weighed upwards of two shemratra, which is equal to 2,080 sheamtra. This made them the heaviest beings living on land at the time. Cetaceans only survive as heavy as they are by benefiting from weightlessness perception in the ocean. This is what causes beached whales to die; their organs can’t withstand the weight of each other. Land animals do not possess this advantage, which means that giants were literally unable to move.

Giants were discovered in the Bogs of Linctavia decades ago, having apparently been left there by the fairies, which are notorious for abandoning their experiments and creations. The water and mud of the bog allowed some movement, but not an adequate amount. The giants had somehow managed to develop some kind of symbiotic relationship with the marble fintys in the area. Marble fintys are known for their evolutionary quirk wherein they never learned what their bodies were capable of consuming, which means they eat just about everything, and regurgitate anything that their digestive system can’t handle. These strange birds figured out that they could do this near the giants, and that not only would the giants not harm them, but other predators would avoid the area for fear of them. Sadly, not even this was enough to keep giants alive as their numbers experienced diminishing returns over a few short generations. The last giant was named Kirabo Endison, and his last words were, “take care of my [pet marble finty] Faven.” He was seven years old, and is survived by all of us.

Microstory 596: Claims of New Anomaly Revealed Erroneous

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It has been decades since someone with a special anomaly ability has been born. The majority of anomalies belonged to the first generation, with very few of them bearing children with abilities of their own. Even fewer of those gave us third generation anomalies, and a fourth generation anomaly is completely unheard of. Scientists and believers hoped this was changing following reports of a man displaying superhuman qualities that was spotted around Los Angeles, Usonia. Though some anomalies remain today, including those in the first generation whose abilities grant them extended life spans, all are considered inactive. The primary organization responsible for anomalies, Bellevue was designed to study anomaly abilities so that they could better the world through technology. For the most part, this has happened, and any individual possessing such power isn’t really needed anymore. They’re generally left to live their lives as they choose. But there are those who believe the bloodlines remain strong, that there are more out there, and that they have simply chosen to return to a status of anonymity. This theory was tested this week when Bellevue agents were dispatched to L.A. in order to investigate the rumors.

The man in question has been seen all over the city, and its surrounding suburbs, as a vigilante against petty crime. Global crime rates have dropped dramatically since the first anomalies stepped into the light last century, with the help of equalizing technological, medical, and political improvements. Still, some highly concentrated metropolises continue to experience an unsettling amount of violent crime. Cities like Hudon, Tokyo, Paris, and the aforementioned Los Angeles seemed to rely heavily on the interventions of high profile Bellevue operatives like Pantera, and Garner. Like our new subject, Garner possessed no abilities of her own, instead using ancient alien technology to battle criminals and terrorists wherever she could find them. A man whose true name has yet to be released by the authorities, but who calls himself Capacitor, has recently been taken into police custody for vigilantism. Witnesses first believed him to be a new Bellevue operative, or at least a new anomaly, since he exhibits similar traits. Seemingly out of his own body, he can propel bolts of electricity to stun his targets. He can also absorb them into what appears to be artificial simplex dimension, before depositing them at the nearest law enforcement building. He carried with him no obvious equipment that would allow him to do such things, but once Bellevue apprehended him, they were able to learn some things. He was evidently a gifted engineer, but also a lucky one, having uncovered evidence of ancient technology not dissimilar to the kind once protected by Garner and historically, her family. He adapted these plans and instructions into his own designs, miniaturizing and flattening the components so they could fit within the confines of regular clothes. Though without a current public identity beyond his codename, Capacitor has been allowed to release a personal statement. “I meant no harm to my beloved nation’s justice system. I saw a need, a void, an opportunity...and I took it. I do not regret my desire to help, but I do wish I had handled it better. I should have contacted Bellevue before jumping into this with so few resources. I’m just glad they stopped me before I hurt myself, or did something irreparable.” It is not known at this time if the city, or the national government, intends to press charges against Capacitor, or what his destiny is as a whole. Perhaps they will allow him to resume his activities, but this time under supervision. The city of Los Angeles declined to comment. Bellevue declined to comment. At the time of this publishing, the Usonian government has not responded to requests for comment. At the time of this publishing, the Confederacy expressed a reiteration of their policy against commenting on the business of lower governments, and external agencies.

The Advancement of Mateo Matic: July 15, 2130

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The first thing that Mateo did when he woke up in 2130 was take inventory. He didn’t need to know how much fish they had in their tarp aquarium, or how long their alien coconuts would last before they climb for more. No, he needed to know who was left on the island. The last several years had come with so much drama, and time away from the group, that he hadn’t really gotten a chance to see what things looked like. Mario was the worst off. He mourned for his daughter, who was still alive, but not for his wife, who had been ripped from time. He couldn’t remember her, but deep love seemed to do something for people that not even time could break. He was feeling an emptiness that he couldn’t explain, even after being told of Angelita.

Darko was still there, working his ass off to provide for the group, something that Vearden did in bulk before he died. Other choosing ones acted like they would be lost without their time powers, but not Darko. Mateo never once heard him complain, or accidentally try to thread an object before realizing he could no longer do it. Apparently, he was good either way. Mateo still didn’t understand what Lincoln’s power was, how he could see time from an outside perspective. It sounded like something no one could understand if they couldn’t see it for themselves. He especially didn’t know how much of that power Lincoln retained on the island. Whenever they crossed paths, they would give each other this look, like they were trying to communicate telepathically. At first, Mateo assumed it was hard for him to pretend to be as oblivious as everyone else, but now he was thinking that Lincoln had been dealing with that his whole life. The woman he had known as his mother in another timeline was still alive too. They never spoke to one another, and she seemed to have lost interest in learning about in getting to know him better. She knew an alternate version of her had given birth to him, but also that he was raised primarily by other people. Loving him was a level of social connection that she was incapable of feeling. If she didn’t outright hate him for being ultimately at fault for her life on this island, she was at least indifferent to him as a stranger.

It was Horace who Mateo felt worst for right now. He was looking around camp, sifting through other people’s bags, and even digging holes in the sand. He walked back and forth, sometimes checking somewhere he had already checked. He was growing more and more frustrated, stopping periodically to determine whether this was even real life. One time, Randall and Carol took Mateo to a nursing home to visit his third cousin something-something-something removed. He was so young that he now couldn’t even remember the man’s name, but this image of him in his room has never gone. The cousin never quite understood who the three of them were, or how Mateo was related to him. He just stood in the middle of the floor, staring at his surroundings. What Mateo didn’t realize at the time was that he had a form of neurological damage, coupled with age-related dementia. Everything around him was unrecognizable, like it not only didn’t belong to him, but that he couldn’t even figure out what they were in the first place. What do beds do? How do you open a dresser? What are mirrors for? The look of fear in this man’s eyes as he placed as much distance between him and the unknown had haunted Mateo ever since. Horace was acting like that right now, and it was because his daughter, Paige had been torn out of time.

“What are you looking for, hun?” Aura asked tenderly.

Horace just grunted.

“If you tell us what it is, we can help you.”

Horace grunted again, but also lunged in her direction, letting her know that she needed to back off.

Aura wasn’t letting up, though. She tried to reach for him, even seeing that he was not in the mood. Mateo stepped in instead, before it could escalate to violence, taking Horace by the arms.

Her name was Paige Turner Reaver-Demir. You and Serkan raised her after accidentally bringing her through time. Arcadia has removed her from the timestream, and has erased your memories, but...”

“She can’t erase my soul,” Horace finished. “What’s happening to me, Mateo? Surely I wasn’t in her presence every second of her life. What about when she went to college, or backpacking in Europe? If she’s only been gone for a couple hours, why do I feel like my organs were replaced with rocks? Why does it hurt so much?”

“She hasn’t just been gone for a couple hours, Horace. She’s been gone forever. The lost of a child can’t—” He stopped mid-sentence to switch gears, “it doesn’t matter how long it’s been since you last saw her; the void consumed you immediately.”

Horace still had no memory of Paige, but knew on an unspeakable level that he was supposed to. His eyes teared up slowly, but then fell out of his eyes like a bursting dam. His knees buckled and he fell to the ground so hard that Mateo couldn’t hold the weight. The crowd gathered around him, to form a protective shell that no threat could break, sending him as much positive energy as they had themselves.

“Dad?”

Horace stopped crying, but didn’t raise his head. He went back to the face that was reminiscent of Mateo’s brain-damaged relative. What is a dad? His mind corrected itself quickly, though, and he was able to look up and into his daughter’s eyes. “Paige?”

She was holding Arcadia’s hand, like a child who was too young to fly alone, and was assigned one of the flight attendants to supervise her. She removed her grasp and dove down to hug Horace’s neck, and together they cried.

Mateo stood up and stepped over to Arcadia. “Why did you bring her back? Not that I’m complaining.”

“I couldn’t do it,” she said. It’s easy when you can erase their memories, because...” She could barely speak; distracted by the expression of devotion between a father and daughter. “Because then it’s like it’s not even real. But with two people like them, my power can only do so much. Seeing him break down like this...it just didn’t feel right.”

“None of this is right, Arcadia.”

“I know.”

“Then why do you do it?”

“I was literally born for this. Altering the continuum is all I know. Take that away from me, and what am I?”

“Genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist?”

“No jokes.”

“I’m sorry.” He took a few beats so they could continue watching the sudden reunion, then he turned towards Arcadia. “I don’t know who you are. You’ve never given me the chance. But no one has to be like this. No one has to do this to people. It’s a choice.”

“You’re not given a choice,” she said to him. “You’re a salmon. Everything you do is at the mercy of someone else.”

“So what’s your excuse?”

“Centuries of being just like you. They didn’t call us salmon, but that’s what we were. We were slaves to our nature, as well as to them.”

“Well they no longer control you, so you don’t have to be like them anymore.”

“I’m not like I was. Now I make the decisions. You’re right, I have a choice...and I still choose this. For now.” Her whole body faded to black, and then faded away. Her voice remained in the air for a few seconds, though. “Paige and Horace will never again be separated by my hands.”

Horace broke free from his little girl, and approached Mateo. “Is this over? Is she really back?”

“She’s back,” Mateo assured him. “I can’t tell you what happens tomorrow, but Paige is safe.”

“Is there anything we can do?” Darko asked. “Can we fight back?”

Mateo and Lincoln exchanged that look again.

“No,” Mateo said. “We just have to get through it, and we can’t let it break us.”

“Well, what are we doing today?” Mario asked.

Mateo had no answer for this, but Horace did. “We cherish every moment.”

That night, they had a feast, provided for them by Arcadia, who never appeared herself, but apported any food to them upon request. As they were joking and laughing during desert, a one-armed man walked through a door that was hovering just over the table. He was followed by another man who held his own arm at his back, presumably holding the door open.

“Keanu,” Horace said, angrily and under his breath.

“Tauno,” said Paige in the same way.

“I am not so generous,” the one Mateo guessed was Keanu said.

Horace knocked his chair behind him as he was standing up to reach for Keanu’s legs. Tauno raised his free hand to him, sending Horace falling through a hole that wasn’t there before. They then heard the same yelling from a football field away where he was falling out of the exit portal. The rest of them tried to stop the two intruders as well, but were met by the same fate. They all began running back towards the table, but none of them was able to make it there before Keanu had pulled Paige into their main portal door, and closed it permanently.

“Arcadia!” Mateo screamed.

As if on cue, Arcadia teleported in herself and said, “looks like you’ll get a Paige expiation after all.”

“Where are they?” Mateo asked.

“I don’t know,” she answered. “That’s what’s gonna make this one so difficult.”

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Flurry: A Sound of Thunder (Part VIII)

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If this were an unrealistic action film—one that, for some reason, featured a gay couple—Serkan and Ace would have taken the time to hold hands and look into each other’s eyes one last time. And this time would last a lot longer than it would actually take to fall from x amount of height. The picture would probably smash to black just before the characters hit the ground, spending a few seconds of suspenseful silence before starting the music score and credits, letting the audience know that this truly is the end. But what’s happening here isn’t an unrealistic action film. It’s an unrealistic slipstream fiction story, and in this story, there exists a series of walking deus ex machinas known as Saviors. In recent times, there has only been one Savior alive at once. It is their job to teleport all over the world, and save people’s lives, before zipping away to save somebody else. Of course, this was not Serkan and Ace’s end. Having been from the future, Serkan didn’t think it was either, because Ace should still be alive come two years, but it was also possible that he changed things by time traveling. There was just no telling what would happen, because he didn’t have all the information. One important bit of information he was missing was that the two of them were in the best position to take care of something for a powerful group of people. These people needed the two of them to remain alive, at least for now. So they sent their Savior to rescue them.

Just before Serkan hit the ground, he felt something around his waist, and then found himself standing safely in a sparsely wooded area. The snow was gone. Ace was standing next to him, just as confused as he was. A woman was resting her hands on her knees and panting. “I hate the falling ones,” she said in between breaths. “I wish I could apport people. That would make my job a lot easier.”

“Thank you for saving us,” Ace said to her, even without knowing her motives.

“Don’t mention it.” She reached to her back, but came up with nothing. She touched her shoulders, and then started looking around. “Where the hell’s my bag?”

“Maybe you dropped it at the castle,” Serkan suggested.

“What castle?”

“Do you know how far we are from where you caught us?” Ace asked her.

“Are we even in the same time period?” Serkan added.

“I’m not a time traveler,” the woman explained. “And no. They don’t tell me where I’m going. But yeah, I must have dropped it wherever that was.”

Ace introduced himself, which prompted Serkan to do the same.

“Daria Matic,” she said. “Salmon Savior.” She looked around again, but it was more like she was taking in her environment. “I don’t know why I’m still here, though. They should be sending me off.”

“Perhaps they wanted you to stay long enough for me to cook a thank-you meal,” Ace said.

She pointed to his stomach. “Are you the guy with the quiche?”

This surprised them both. True, that was his go-to move for getting people to like him, but he wasn’t famous, or anything. “Uhh...I believe I am.”

She nodded and took a deep breath to finally get back to equilibrium. “Sounds good. Where are we, by the way? They wouldn’t have had me teleport us very far from where you’re supposed to be.”

“Kansas City,” Serkan said, pulling up the Escher Card to find their exact location. “Ever been?”

Daria looked longingly to the distance. “My home.”

They made their way back to the city through a ride-sourcing service. All the while, Daria stared out the window, admiring the sites. “City of Fountains,” she whispered to herself. “Hey, who runs this town now?”

Serkan wasn’t sure what kind of answer she was looking for, or how long she had been gone, so he just did his best. “The Tracers.”

She nodded. “Slipstream alive?”

“Uh, she should be?” he answered.

“What about Fairware?”

“What’s that?”

“Never mind.” She smashed her face against the glass. “Mendoza Park?”

“Yeah, it was named after—”

Daria interrupted him, “he died?” She looked down at the floor and thought for a few moments. “I’ll need to see his grave.”

“We can do that. I just have to find out where it is,” Serkan explained.

“I don’t know how long I have.”

“We’re here,” the driver announced.

“Take me to Slipstream,” Daria demanded.

“I don’t know who that is, lady,” the driver retorted. “If you don’t request the destination, I can’t take ya there.”

“Here’s fine,” Ace said as he was stepping out. “Now we have our own car.”

Once they were out, Serkan said to their new friend, “I can’t let Slipstream see me. I’m from a couple years in the future. She’ll never understand.”

“That shows how much you know about Slippy. But if you won’t take me to her, then I suppose Kyle Stanley will do.”

“Kyle Stanley?” he asked. “The lawyer?”

“Yeah, don’t tell me seeing him will interrupt your timeline too.”

“I don’t...think so,” he replied. “I never met him. I only ever worked with Rutherford, and he’s never been much help.”

“I just wanna find my friend’s grave. Stanley will know.”

Before either of them could assure her that they would help, the snow returned. It didn’t just start falling. At first, it would blink back into existence, and then blink out. It did this a few times, like the interface of a cracked phone struggling to keep the screen on after having been in the toilet. The three of them could see that something was wrong, but people in the street seemed to be part of it. They too would spontaneously switch between summer clothes and winter clothes, without having any clue that anything was changing.

“What’s...going on here?” Daria asked.

“We don’t really know. I guess I thought someone went back in time and stopped the snow from ever happening, but maybe Keanu found a way around it.”

This scared her. “Keanu? You’re dealing with a Snowglober?”

“Yeah, so it would seem.”

“Oh my God,” she said, more frightened than ever, “I have to get away from you two.” Just as she turned to put distance between them, the weather stopped oscillating, and remained in its wintery state.

Former founder of High Castle Corporation, Keanu ‘Ōpūnui appeared suddenly to block her way. He was still missing one arm. “You must be the Savior.”

She slowly back away. Ace and Serkan shielded her about as well as was possible when dealing with someone who could manipulate time.

Keanu continued, “don’t worry, I cannot hurt her. The powers that be would be all over me about that. You, on the other hand, are fair game.”

“We didn’t do this to you. It was that woman you were keeping as some sort of slave.”

“Yes. I didn’t actually come for you.” He nodded to their house. “I hear she lives here. I was hoping to pay her a visit and return a favor she did for me.” He presented his shoulder stub.

“We live here,” Ace told him.

“Exactly.”

“What?”

“Ugh,” he sighed. “You two will never understand time travel.” He started heading for the front steps. “Anyway, I have to go kill your daughter.”

With zero hesitation, Ace planted his leg in front of Keanu’s, and then slammed his face right onto the pavement. The snow was painted red...and could probably go for a cool mil if seen by the right obnoxiously rich white people. Keanu calmly picked himself up, wiped his mouth, and dialed his phone. “Twenty seconds oughta do it.—Thanks Jesi.”

Time suddenly started rewinding. They could perceive their own actions in reverse, but could do nothing to alter them...not until time restarted at its normal pace, and in the proper direction.

“Let’s try this again,” Keanu proposed. Again, he started walking towards their house, and again, Ace forced him to the ground.

“I don’t care how many time friends you have!” Ace yelled at him. “I’ll never stop droppin’ you down!”

Keanu stood up, but did not wipe the blood from his face this time. Instead, he aggressively placed it right in front of Ace’s. “You think you have any power? You think you’re safe? You think your daughter’s safe in that pocket world? I got a friend who can cross dimensions, bitch! You can’t stop us!”

Ace moved his feet in closer. “That’s the second time you’ve used that term. The third will come with consequences.”

Keanu lowered his voice and looked at Ace with crazy eyes. I said biiiiiiiiiiiiiii...”

Ace reached up and struck Keanu in his throat, which caused him to stumble backwards and try to protect himself. Ace wasn’t done, though. He punched Keanu in the face with a nice right hook. Keanu’s arm broke his fall, but Ace took this opportunity to kick him right in the stomach. He then proceeded to whale on Keanu’s face over and over again, each blow as chilling as thunder. Serkan tried to pull him away, but wasn’t strong enough. “Think you can talk on the phone now? Who ya gonna call? Huh? HUH!? You killed her. You killed Leona, you piece of shit!”

“STOP!” Serkan ordered.

Ace looked up to see a few bystanders on the sidewalk, a couple of them holding their phones down at the scene.

“Who the hell is Leona?” Serkan asked after someone he thought he knew stood back up and hunted for his breath.

“I don’t know,” he answered before starting to walk away. “I don’t know,” he repeated, mostly to himself.

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Microstory 595: Atlantis Will Sink

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When our people first came to this world, it was by accident. Our ancestors found themselves trapped in a scary new universe, with primitive technology, and superstitious inhabitants. We wanted to live in peace with them, but this was not possible. We would have to reveal our scientific understanding to them at a time when we felt it would not be appropriate. Or we would have to live like them. Of course, since then, Priority Two has altered our perception of best practices around the rest of the universe, but for this world, the rule remains. We must not come out to the natives, or we will face consequences from several authorities. Long after the first accidental trip, we came upon a large island in the ocean. At the time, the natives were barely venturing out to the sea, so we knew we would be safe so far from the mainland. Over time, more of our people came through the tear in spacetime, sometimes accidentally, but not always. We monitored these crossings, tracked their movements, and read them into the situation. Since then, our established culture has grown on this island, which has been named Atlantis. Unfortunately, the rest of the world has advanced to the point that we are no longer a secret. Already rumors are spreading across two continents, telling of the City of Atlantis, with its powerful magic, and its dangerous army. We know that we remain here in peace, but we’ve found it next to impossible to convince the natives of this. So a choice was made, and soon, it will be realized.

After long deliberations, and input from all current residents, our leaders have decided to hide Atlantis from the rest of the world. This will be the largest project Atlantians have ever attempted, and it will not be easy. A number of plans have been proposed, all of them with their faults. Some want to drop Atlantis into a simplex dimension, but the power requirements would render life inside difficult. We would need to take drastic precautions to protect ourselves from plex radiation. To avoid this, there are those who say we should phase ourselves out of perception, but this is a class of technology we do not possess, and we do not feel it to be in our best interests to ask for it from our allies. Some say we should build a dome that covers the entire island, and then sink it into the ocean, but the construction alone would be noticed by outsiders. This we cannot risk, but the suggestion did give us an idea of what we could do. The new plan incorporates the best aspects of all other ideas, but removes most of the dangers. Make no mistake, this will be dangerous as well, but experts believe it to be the safest choice imaginable. We are going to sink the island, but instead of building a dome, we are going to keep the waters at bay using a series of redundant telekinetic fields. Scientists have begun work designing TK field generators to be placed all along the border, and later on our tallest buildings. To make up for the gaps, and before the buildings can be raised, witches will use their learned telekinetic gifts. The best witches can secure telekinetic fields with little effort, and walk away. Others will have to operate in shifts. They will take turns maintaining the protective barrier until something more permanent can be installed. Scientists are still working on the details of this mission, with no intention to reach our goal for at least another half year. Within one week, our progress will be released to the public. We are asking for help from anyone and everyone. Even if you do not have the educational background to understand the plan from an engineering standpoint, we urge you to speak up with any thoughts. We welcome all perspectives, for if we do not get this right, only the vampires will survive. Instructions will be sent out by email in time.

Microstory 594: Miscalculation of Largest Particle Accelerator in the World

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The Adnington Joint Global Accelerator was designed to be the largest in the world. Sixteen nations came together to draw up these plans, with five more agreeing to sell, donate, or lease the land necessary for the completion of the project. The Adnington Institute also needed Confederacy approval to operate across the ocean bed in international waters. The AJGA, affectionately nicknamed Aggie, was hoped to be not only the largest particle accelerator in history, but also the largest manmade structure in the universe. At a length of just over 145 shemko, Aggie would circle the entire globe. Due to geographic constraints, it is not possible to build her at the planet’s equator, but it will still be a milestone ingenuity, and a testament to the human spirit. Noted slipstream fiction author, Jeloni Jax first proposed the concept in her mid-16th century novel series The Chronicles of Pastel, though only in the third book. The series relates the fictional future development of the human race, symbolized by the ever-increasing size of our particle accelerators, the largest of which circles the whole galaxy. The series is notable for its fairly accurate prediction of technological advances, and has been used by scientists as roadmap to that end. Unfortunately, it’s possible that this particular dream of hers may never be realized, as least not by Aggie.

The accelerator was not started in one place with plans to move ever Eastwards. Instead, each participating nation began construction simultaneously, with the intention of eventually connecting the multitude of sections. Engineers spent years prior to this construction surveying the land, and designing the structure. Ever minute detail matters. Even a slight perturbation in the construction could result in a complete failure of the experiment. This type of ring must be a perfect circle if it is going to be able to accomplish what Adnington proposes. At the moment, it’s estimated that about 31% of the construction is finished, with sections from two nations having already joined together. However, a surveyor has recently discovered there to be a literal disconnect between two other locations. Still thousands of nayko from each other, it’s already been discovered that the Usonian and Moroccan sections will not match up perfectly when they meet in the middle of the ocean. Both teams are off in their calculations, resulting in each one already heading in conflicting directions. A few suggestions have been made by the scientific community, one being that both countries could remove the offending sections and start again. The problem with this is that Usonia would have to rebuild over one hundred nayko, while Morocco would be responsible for about four nayko. Neither country is sure at the time whether this will be a financially feasible option. The Adnington Institute has begun an audit of the process, and will make a determination as to the fate of the project in a month. For now, nine of the other countries have put their construction on hold, while the remaining five have continued under the assumption that these issues will be resolved. Some say that this venture is too soon, citing Jax’s estimation of an accelerator this large not being built until around 1915. The future of particle acceleration may be uncertain, but lead researcher at the current largest accelerator, Megarelativstic Ion Collider (Mick) in Greenland put in his two cents. “We’re happy to keep the lights on, so to speak, until the globotron is completed, in whatever form that takes.”