Microstory 930: Writing

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As you can read in my bio, I started writing when I was thirteen years old. Before then, though, I had the sneaking suspicion that I was a good writer, and figured I would write science textbooks. In fifth grade, I half-assed a short paper about why I would never do drugs, and ended up winning a class-wide competition. Sidenote: I don’t do drugs, while it seems everyone else does, so maybe it worked. I had to read my paper aloud to an audience of other students and parents, and then they gave me a bunch of D.A.R.E swag. Then there was the fact that I rarely worked hard on my papers, and almost always received good grades for them. A couple years after I decided to switch to writing, I started thinking about my canon. I didn’t know to call it that back then, but up until that point, I had been focusing on fanfiction, in order to hone my craft. I wrote some Quantum Leap and Harry Potter stories, which have thankfully been lost by now, but it was time to try something original. I had recently returned from a trip to the Florida Keys with my Boy Scout troop, and my father. We spent a week on an island where I experienced no problems; no injuries, no fights, just fun. The beach smelled of rotten eggs, which is why I now like the smell of rotten eggs. That’s all it took to condition me. I struggled a lot with this first book, and it’s gone through a great deal of changes since then. It began as original, but I couldn’t help but find some way of connecting it to the Lord of the Rings universe. So I had to scrap it, and try again. It still wasn’t working out, so I scrapped the second draft too, and tried it a third time. I didn’t like that one either, even after ten years of this, so I buckled down, and started working on version number four, which is the one I have today. I’m looking for a literary agent to represent me, if you happen to know anyone.

While I’m glad I didn’t stick to my Lord of the Rings plan, it did make me realize that I would never be satisfied with individual stories that were completely separate from each other. I wanted to create a whole new world—or six worlds, as it were—and I wanted them to connect to each other in complicated, and sometimes subtle, ways. This too went through a number of changes, but at some point, I had a sturdy foundation, from which every story must originate. Later on, if I came up with a story that would not be internally consistent with the narrative, or even physical, laws set forth by other stories, I would have to create a new universe for it. But even that bothered me, so I invented a machine called The Crossover, which has the ability to travel between these universe, so in the end, I really do only have a single canon. Some stories are more connected than others, though. For instance, Magnate exists within a universe that allows none of the more—shall we say...unrealistic science fiction elements. People will start using it as a refuge from the craziness of time travel, ghosts, and whatnot. Anyway, I’m starting to talk about the planning of my stories, which is not what this post is about. This is about the writing itself, which I actually don’t love all that much. My fingers are in a permanent state of pain, so I can never type too long. I believe my strengths lie more with storytelling than with the narrative itself, or maybe I just feel that way because an artist’s work is never done. I would much rather come up with ideas, and micromanage every small detail of a story, then have someone else write it up for me. I believe they call people who do that producers. But that doesn’t mean I don’t like it at all. I still appreciate the feeling of typing out paragraphs, and seeing the finished product of my accomplishments. Hopefully the readers who are hopefully reading this in the future feel the same way.

Microstory 929: Netflix

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It was the year 2010. Some dumb team I don’t care about had recently won the superbowl. A good man was still president. And I had just graduated from college. My sister gave me three months of Netflix as a gift. I hadn’t thought much about trying the service before then. I had seen my evil roommate’s DVDs strewn about the apartment, but didn’t think I would get much out of it, especially since I did not yet have a job. I went to the movie theatre a lot during college, usually by riding my bike two and a half miles down the hill. My record was five movies in one day, which was pretty much the maximum with their hours. What I didn’t realize was that I was on the cusp of a better Netflix, and because of that, I ended up never cancelling the service, and still have it today. The library was already huge at that point, but was really picking up speed. It had existed for over ten years by then, but was only starting to become ubiquitous. Of course there are still plenty of people in the developed world who don’t have a Netflix account, but those people are becoming harder to find. The greatest part about the service is that it’s generally pretty reliable. It can be accessed on myriad devices, with varying levels of internet speeds, and they even let you download titles to your phone, to be watched offline. I still encounter errors, as one does when using a computer, but most can be solved fairly painlessly. Netflix has tons of their own original programming, and they keep them up there all the time. My OnDemand services usually only keep five episodes of a series at a time, and sometimes it’s not even the last five, but some inappropriately random order. Netflix does occasionally only offer certain seasons of certain shows, but I’m certain the fault lies with the studio from which they bought the rights for the content. I can say nothing more about it, except that they should renew Lost in Space for a third season now, instead of waiting until season two comes out. And they should do the same with season four of Travelers. Also, please Netflix, don’t change your intro sound effect. You’re going to try to “update” it in a few years, as some belated response to the Kevin Spacey scandal, and it’s going to upset me, because I find this one quite comforting. Oh, I do have one more thing to say. The phrase “Netflix and chill” never had to be sexual in nature. It could very well have described a pleasant evening sitting innocuously in front of a screen, but noooo, you people can’t help but ruin everything. So thanks for that.

Microstory 928: The Materianet

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I have to start this off by explaining what the word “materianet” means. It’s just the internet of things, but with a more succinct name. I’ve always hated the conventional term for the concept, because it sounds so childish, and on the nose. I don’t need it to be sexy, or trademarked, but come on...“internet of things”? Why did we all just allow that to happen? I propose this new term. It still describes what it is, and differentiates it from the more traditional form of internet, which is presently in its Web 2.0 state. The original world wide web was designed for basic communication only. Someone put information on a website, and people could go look at that information. There was some room for response, or collaboration, but for the most part, it was static. Now collaboration is the whole purpose. Even more static websites, like Wikipedia, require the input of millions of people. You’re always logged in, connecting accounts to other accounts, and leverage your social circles to crowdsource data. That is/was Web 2.0, but now it’s time for the next step. The materianet marks the beginning of Web 3.0. Those early elements are still there, but we’re starting to access them in new ways. It used to be a family had a single computer that everyone had to share. Then, individuals began owning their own machines independently. But now we each have multiple devices. A single person in the developed world will sometimes use several ways of connecting. They’ll have a desktop for long-term tasks at home, or at work, a laptop for portable long-term tasks, a phone for spontaneous needs, a tablet to play games while they’re on the toilet, and a smartwatch for convenience and behavior tracking. Google came out with niche glasses that were a bit ahead of their time, but are recently making a comeback, and a few companies are working on other types of glasses and goggles, so a few people have things like that too. And again, this is just all one person who owns all this, and few question those choices. Go back to 1960 and list all the computers you have to someone, and they’ll think you’re lying. Now things are expanding even more. Coincidentally, I just received my Google Home Mini speaker last night; free from a new wind energy program I signed up for. This uses extremely limited artificial intelligence to answer questions, keep track of my schedule and favorites, and even make jokes. There are tons of useful auxiliaries that the people who were working on the early internet could only dream of, if that. It can control personal security cameras, lights, thermostat, this machine that heats baby bottles to the optimum temperature, and more. We will one day be able to control everything we have in the home from a phone, or a smaller form factor, like electronic clothing. I haven’t even mentioned how much smarter cars are becoming, or how virtual reality, augmented reality, and mixed reality, as well as true artificial intelligence, are already giving us glimpses of what may someday be called Web 4.0. So thank you materianet, or whatever your name is, for making my life easier, and keeping me connected to all my things. I can’t wait to watch you grow.

Microstory 927: The Universe Itself

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The anthropic principle is an infamous, and oft misused, scientific maxim that basically states that we exist within a universe that has itself come into existence to allow us to exist and evolve, so we can observe it. That was a bit of a whirlwind. So I’ll break it down some more. This does not mean the universe exists, or exists in the way it does, in order to support our lives. It simply points out that if it did not allow us to exist, we would not be observing it at all, and couldn’t remark on it. This may sound mundane, and even obvious, but it’s actually a perfect way to illustrate the rarity of life. Take this further, and recognize that even a minute change in the cosmic temperature would result in a wildly different set of circumstances. So we have heat going for us. Gravity is at a constant, allowing objects to coalesce, and form the heavenly bodies, so we have somewhere to stand. Atoms contain varying subatomic particles, which allow for an array of useful fundamental chemical elements, and by extension, molecules. Our solar system lies at an ideal distance from the galaxy’s central black hole, and the its edge, to support the creation of topographically asymmetrical rocky worlds. The gas giants, the moon, and interplanetary gravitational interference in general, protects us from many bolide impacts that once created life in the first place. We have an atmosphere and magnetic field to protect us from solar and cosmic radiation. The primordial ooze that started it all adapted to suit an ever-changing environment, to eventually evolve into the creatures we know today. Your biological mother and father joined at the exact right time, under the exact right circumstances, and your mother carried you under the exact right conditions to eventually make you the person you are today. I say all this, because it barely scratches the surface of what it took to get us to this point in time. While the universe is an unfathomably massive place, literally—and it would be practically impossible for alien lifeforms to not exist somewhere, in some way—the chances that anything exists is negligible. The math was never in our favor. The fact that the universe is here at all is, quite honestly, a miracle. There is just too much working against reality to allow for the creation of something, in place of nothing. A lot of people believe in a God, the creator; some supreme being that has determined what shall be, and what shall not, and some believe this entity continues to make decision. But I worship the universe itself, along with time and reality, because it’s far more a marvelous thing that it just suddenly came into existence, when it really shouldn’t have. This entry began as nothing more than an ode to the powerful force of the tides, but the moon and sun are only a fraction of what I’m grateful for cosmically speaking, so I just had to mention everything.

Microstory 926: Goats and Elephants

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I added this entry, because I didn’t speak much on animals themselves in my second post. I’ve had a lot of different favorite animals, for different reasons. Each time I add one, the others don’t go anywhere; they just all stay my favorite. I like penguins and polar bears, even though I don’t much like the cold. I like okapi, because they look like they should be related to zebras, but they’re not. I remember discovering them when a character mentioned them during the series finale of Six Feet Under. I had not once watched that show up to that point, but my aunt and I had nothing better to do. I ended up noticing a small okapi figurine in a museum gift shop soon thereafter. I still have it, and keep it on my desk. I like dogs and cats, because I’m a human being with a heart. I used to hate cows, because I thought they were stupid, which is less true than you probably believe, and even if not, that’s no reason to dislike them. I got to know a calf once, and she was great; never talked back to me. I like horses and donkeys, because they’re majestic and beautiful, and horseback riding is in my blood. And I like goats and elephants. I’ve met a few goats in my day, and though they weren’t the nicest of creatures, they were cool, and they always look at you like they secretly understand your language. Elephants are just great, because...well, look at them. Ya know, they bury, and mourn for, their dead, and when a mother dies, the rest of the herd will try to raise her young. They’re one of the few animals naturally born with souls. Not even dogs can boast that. I’m afraid I’m not feeling well, and need to go back to the Church of the Porcelain God, so this is where I leave you.

The Advancement of Leona Matic: September 19, 2196

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The world, and the way people lived in it, had changed dramatically since Leona’s original time in the early 21st century. The millions of cities, smaller towns, and rural countrysides were reduced to several hundred central locations. While still spread across the globe, people primarily lived in one of only a few kinds of constructs. There were the landlocked arcologies—like the one Leona and her friends had been living in for the last couple weeks—of varying designs of capacities. There were floating seasteads, for people who liked to wander around over the mysterious deep. They did so above underwater habitats, similar to those depicted in seaQuest DSV. Others lived in permanent orbiting satellites, off world on Mars, or the moons of Jupiter, or on generation ships bound for the great unknown. The rest lived in the Northwest Forest Circles, or the North Korean Isolate. Only a few pockets of anarcho-primitivists survived in secret camps, but most technology-resistant people were law abiding citizens of the inner forest rings.

Kansas City had asserted itself as the most dominant superpower of all exmunden establishments, which was the designation for any intelligent species ultimately deriving from Earth, be it human, android, combination thereof, or something else entirely. It was only used to distinguish from entities originating from alien locations, of which none had so far been discovered. It was odd being back in the closest thing to her hometown. Everything Leona had known had been completely demolished, and replaced with wildlife. This made her a little sad, but everyone else around her seemed perfectly fine with it, even those who had been alive to see the old world. It was time to move on, and what better way to do that than to lay her friend to rest in the safest place in the solar system.

A few ceremonies were performed to honor the fallen heroes who worked tirelessly against the Arianation, but a special one was scheduled specifically for Ecrin Cabral, and the cadet who had fought and died alongside her in the final battle, whose name was Platinum Creaser. Out of all the interesting names she had learned during her hurried journey through time, his was probably the best. The service was attended by tens of thousands of people, and watched by the whole world, along with parts of other worlds. A journalist had spent Leona’s interim year uncovering what she could about what had happened on that Panama arc, and how Ecrin had been involved. She had apparently uncovered proof of temporal manipulation, but agreed to leave that part out of her series for the sake of everyone. She even lied in one article in order to explain away why the memorial had to wait an entire year, by claiming that an important family member had to make the return trip from the inner Oort cloud. At the moment, Ecrin was probably the second most famous person in the system, bested only by Ulinthra herself. Even though her real name had long come out, most people were still referring to her as Arianrhod.

“That was a nice service,” Vitalie said to Leona as they were leaving the stage after having been silent honored guests. She had disappeared from the timestream about a week after Leona’s jump, and come back to it a month ago. Leona’s marrow transplant was waning in her, rather than quitting all at once. It was good that she would most likely eventually fall completely off of Leona’s pattern, but it also meant Ulinthra would not stay on it for much longer either. She had received a far smaller dose than the others, and if she returned to full strength before being found, things could get bad again. Brooke had spent the year leading the search, but came up short. Many presumed she’d managed to make her way off world in a darkburster, but this was unlikely. The few people who knew about time travel guessed she had escaped through some portal, but that was even less likely, because this was when and where Ulinthra had built her empire, and she would need to be here to do it again. No, she was hiding out somewhere, probably random, waiting for her link to Leona to be severed, so she could restart the war.

“It was,” Brooke agreed.

“What are you gonna do now?”

Brooke took a deep breath, then looked back at Ecrin’s service photo. “She and I talked about working together.”

“You did?”

“Yeah, she was gonna come out of retirement, and go back to her old ways.”

“Would you restart the IAC?”

“IPSEC.”

“I don’t know what that is,” Vitalie said.

“Interplanetary Security. It handles crimes committed on multiple worlds, or elsewhere in interplanetary space. I would be the pilot, she would be an investigator.”

“You would be perfect for that,” Leona said awkwardly. Though Brooke turned out to be a double agent, and still operating on their side, their relationship had not yet healed from the irreversibly traumatic experience.

“I’m cooking tonight,” Brooke said after they walked a little further, speaking only to exchange pleasantries with random mourners. “That was an invitation,” she added after they didn’t respond.

“That would be lovely,” Vitalie said cordially.

“Great, come at six. I think we should probably...catch up.”

Leona and Vitalie returned to the executive safehouse where they were staying with Governor-Councilor Tribaldos, who had spent the year running the Panamanian reconstruction remotely. It was a large mansion that accommodated all Panamanian arcstate leadership, like a trashy reality show, but without the cameras. They were presently locked in the situation room, where they were coordinating the continued hunt for Ulinthra, and her loyalists. Brooke normally led these missions, but she needed the week off. The two of them ate a little brunch, and then took a nap, before getting up mid-afternoon to prepare for the dinner.

That evening, they found Brooke’s door to be ajar, and an unusual smell coming from inside. Vitalie urged Leona to call security, and not go in herself, because of the baby, but Leona had spent this whole time as a time traveler doing things herself. She rarely had the luxury of calling for help, so it just wasn’t really habit anymore. She nudged the door all the way open, and cautiously stepped inside, keeping her head on a swivel. The place was a mess. It didn’t look so much like a struggle, but more like someone wanted it to appear like there had been a struggle. Objects had fallen out of their respective places a little too neatly. The cabinets above the food synthesizer were open, with rarely used supplies spilling out. That would never happen from a fight, unless maybe someone went looking for something afterwards.

The screen on the wall flipped on once they had come inside far enough. It was showing them either footage, or a stream of a group of soldiers walking towards a black ship. They appeared to be using helmet cams, but the view occasionally switched to a drone perspective.

“Is that a...?”

“Yes,” Leona said. It was a darkburster. They were a special class of extremely illegal, and dangerous, rockets. They were illegal because they used incredibly sophisticated stealth technology that rendered them almost perfectly invisible. They were dangerous, because the only way to achieve this level of invisibility was to block the darkburster’s sensors as well. Like human-driven semi-trailer truck drivers of old, who couldn’t see you behind them if you couldn’t see their mirrors, if the darkburster can see where it’s going, someone else can too. They were programmed to shoot straight up into the air, pass through the atmosphere, and head for a blindspot, while completely blind themselves. If something went wrong during this exercise, not even an artificially intelligent pilot would be able to compensate. They were used by smugglers and other criminals, to transport contraband and people between worlds, and their success rate was at about 50%. The more time that passed, the more advanced the solar system became, and the more difficult it was to avoid being detected without passing the system’s termination shock. Darkbursters were having to calculate longer and longer routes to stay hidden, and it was just not a sustainable business model. Before too long, the only thing small enough to not be sensed by a planet, a ship, or a monitoring buoy within the confines the helisphere, will be a coffin-sized escape pod.

The soldiers were not alone. The one with the helmet cam started slowing down, and allowing those behind him to pass. Two of them were dragging an unconscious Brooke Prieto between them. A small window popped up in the corner of the screen, showing Ulinthra at a desk, facing the camera. She was wearing a headset, and drinking a can of soda that was probably banned years ago. “Oh, I can see you. Can you see me? Can you hear me?”

“What are you doing?”

“Uh, you’re breaking up a little. Can you repeat that?” Ulinthra joked.

“Ulinthra! This isn’t funny! What are you doing?”

“Ah, you’re comin’ in better now. Yes, as you can see, this is footage of my personal darkburster, which I could have used to escape to Orcus and Vanth. I hope you appreciate what I’m sacrificing here.”

“Where are you taking her?” Leona questioned.

“I just told you. Orcus and Vanth.”

“Why?”

“Well, he was a god of the underworld. He punished betrayers, like Brooke. He’ll have a lot of fun with her.”

“Look up Orcus,” Leona whispered to Vitalie.

“What was that?” Ulinthra asked.

“It’s a bad place,” Vitalie said after pulling up a summary of the dwarf planet, Orcus on her tablet. “Only bad people live there.”

Leona glanced down at the tablet. “It’s a bloody crime den.”

“That it is!” Ulinthra agreed with excitement.

“She won’t make it. Not if you send her there on that thing.”

“Oh, not necessarily,” Ulinthra said. “She has a fifty-fifty chance. You seem to be such big fans of those, I thought I’d flip my own penny. I will admit that I flipped tails, but screw that, I make my own fate. Unfortunately, Miss Prieto doesn’t. The darkburster is going to choose for her. I promise that I have not sabotaged it in any way; I am a fair tyrant. If she lives, she goes to Orcus, and you might one day see her again. Hell, the powers that be might even just send you a solar teleporter, so you can retrieve her next year, who knows? That is a long time for her to wait, though. She’s gonna be there by tomorrow. If the darkburster doesn’t make it, then she dies. Not even a transhuman can survive the vacuum of space. But now it is out of my hands.”

“No, it’s not. Call them off.”

She sighed. “I’m good. But again, maybe the PTB are lookin’ to help you out. We can watch together, and see if Étude comes through for ya.”

Étude did not come through for them, and the darkburster did not survive its journey through the atmosphere. It barely made it off the ground before exploding. Just like that, Brooke was dead. Add her to the list.

“Now you really are dead,” Leona said.

“Nevertheless,” Ulinthra began, “she—”

“No,” Leona interrupted. “You can’t have that.”

“Fine.” Ulinthra frowned. “Bye, Felicia.”

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Fervor: Sandlot (Part X)

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I’m standing in front the mirror, staring at myself. I still look like me, but also not really. This isn’t the first time I’m seeing the new me, of course. I got some good hard looks yesterday, soon after Jesimula Utkin rapidly aged me, but I just can’t stop. We discussed it a little, and estimated that I was maybe twenty years old at this point. A part of me feels violated, but I can’t honestly say that I’m upset about the results. I’ve always been mature for my age, so maybe this is my outside finally reflecting my inside. My biggest problem always been people not taking me seriously, and this could solve all that. Then again, she technically stole six years of life that I could have lived. If I’m to die at the age of eighty, I’ll now have only experienced seventy-four years of time. Perhaps later on, once I’m starting to feel self-conscious about my wrinkles, I can call Jesi back, and have her do the same thing in reverse. Hell, is there any reason she can’t just keep doing that for me? If this doesn’t prove that immortality is possible, I don’t know what will. Maybe there’s a limit, I don’t know. I would at least like to live to be two hundred. I guess that’s just an arbitrary choice, though. No, this is all stupid anyway. It was difficult enough to explain why my father, Serkan was only five years older than me. Now I’m meant to be the older one? Then again...

“Paige, we’re going to get you fixed,” Slipstream says to me when I try to start brainstorming over breakfast. There aren’t supposed to be such thing as a bad idea.

“I thought this was a safe space. I don’t need you yelling at me,” I complain.

“She wasn’t yelling,” Hogarth says.

“No, she’s right,” Slipstream says. “I’m sorry, Paige. Your feelings are paramount here, but I want you to understand the ramifications. You can’t go back to high school, so your only option would be to get your equivalency. It may not be right, but employers perceive that to be an inferior education. This is all assuming someone can create for you yet another identity after the first two, because everyone beyond this room, other than your fathers, thinks you’re fourteen.”

“That’s a lot to assume, yes,” I counter, “but it’s not as bad as assuming we can get Jesimula to reverse this. Everyone needs to be prepared for the possibility that this is my life now.”

“Oh,” Slipstream says as she starts to tear her toast into little strips—there’s probably a story behind that behavior. “I’ll get her to reverse what she did. Don’t you worry none ‘bout that.”

“What are you going to do?” Leona asks.

“I’ve already called my tracers. We’re taking a little field trip to Independence. I don’t want you to have to come with us, Paige, but you’ll have to be closeby.”

“No, you can’t involve the tracers,” I say, remembering something Serkan told me back when.

“Why can’t I?”

“It’s the tenth of April.”

“So...?” She doesn’t know why that’s significant, nor should she.

“Serkan starts to run with you today,” I explain. I don’t want to say too much about what I know of these people’s futures, but this is important.

“I thought he was stuck in another dimension,” Slipstream says.

“I’m not talking about that Serkan,” I tell them. “I’m talking about the original Serkan; the one who doesn’t know a thing about time travel yet.”

“Isn’t he still a minor?” Leona asked. “New Gangs are only for adults.”

“The tracer gang makes exceptions for Frenzy winners,” I clarify.

“Is this true?” Leona asks Slipstream.

She doesn’t answer right away, but keeps her eyes on me.

“Slip,” Leona presses.

“Yes,” Slipstream finally says, eyes still on me. “It’s true, even before I met Paige here, we had our eye on Serkie. He’s a force.”

“If he doesn’t go on probation in your gang starting tomorrow,” I begin, “after today’s audition, everything he does after that is ruined. You wanna talk about reversing, this decision could prevent me from ever coming to the 21st century. Jesi releases a virus, Keanu freezes the real Kansas City, dogs and cats living together.”

“I get it,” Slipstream says shortly. “Your father has to join the gang. But the longer we wait...”

The longer we wait, what?” I ask. “The unobtanium in my quantum injector solidifies, and there’s no longer a way to reverse the time polarity? I can wait a few days. History can’t. And remember, just because it hasn’t happened yet, doesn’t mean it’s not history.”

Slipstream considers her choices, but ultimately relents. She recognizes what’s top priority here, so she finishes eating, and heads out to the gray district, so she can meet my future father, and close the time loop. We all have to make it to July 17, 2026, which is the day after the ninth annual City Frenzy, before we can stop worrying so much about altering the timeline.

For an hour after Slipstream leaves, I’m once again in front of  the mirror. I’m not just staring at myself anymore, like a creepy ghost-child in a Japanese horror flick, though. Little Brooke the other day discovered a magical closet behind one of the normal bedroom closets that’s the size of a clothing store, maybe even larger. I’m trying out new clothes. This is more than just a safehouse for time travelers. The clothes I normally wear are pretty loose, so they don’t fit too badly, but I still need something better.

I’m currently wearing a cute little blue dress with a daisy pattern when I hear a voice behind me. “That looks perfect on you.”

“Jesimula,” I say with a sneer.

“You can call me Jesi.”

“We’ve decided you need to put me back as I was.”

“Back as you were?” she echoes. “As a scared thirteen-year-old girl in 1972?”

“Not that far back,” I correct with a roll of my eyes.

“I see, so you’re looking for the ideal?”

“I’m asking you to reverse everything that you’ve done to me; nothing more, nothing less.”

“Is that really what you want, or is that what your friends told you that you need?”

I don’t hesitate. “It’s what I want, and it’s what is right. If I want you to change my age, I’ll ask for it, which is what I’m doing right now.”

“I’m afraid I can’t do that. It would be unethical for me to send you on this mission as a child. I had to age you up.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, but what you did is already unethical. You’ve violated my body, for one, and you haven’t even matured me. I’m still a minor; the difference now is I can pass for an adult. Barely.”

“I don’t see it that way. Don’t you want to know what the mission is?”

“It doesn’t matter, because I’m not doing a single thing for you.” I know it’s dumb as soon as I say it it, because I obviously have no choice. Jesi is here on behalf of her own agenda, and it’s irrelevant what anyone else wants. I dart my eyes toward the exit, but she’s blocked it.

She almost frowns when she notices, but does not doubt her plan. She sprays some sort of odorless, tasteless something in my face. Then she creates a bubble around me, and disappears. I expect everything around me to start changing, but it doesn’t. I’m stuck in the bubble for about twice as long as the clinic was last time, and when it finally dissipates, and lets me out, I see that the closet is still just as it was before. It must exist in some other dimension, because I seriously doubt Jesi created a bubble for me that didn’t do anything. I cautiously walk over towards the door, and open it up.

Before me is a darkened and empty hallway. On the opposite wall, however, is a bright light. At first I think it’s just a lamp, or something, but then my eyes adjust, and I can see the truth. It’s the sun. It’s the sun as viewed from space. I step closer and admire the view. Yeah, I’m definitely in the future. I can’t tell whether I’m in a ship, a space station, or something I can’t even comprehend, but the sunlight illuminates a few structures to the side of me that all look exactly the same. I suspect that I’m just in another one of whatever they are. Oh, and there’s also a little planet below called Earth.

I can hear what sounds like sand being sifted to the side of me as the lights inside the hallway turn on. I look over and see a figure forcing itself out of the wall; or more like part of the wall is becoming something else. Tiny little pieces come together to form the general shape of a human being, and eventually rearrange themselves into more and more detail. In the end, there’s a person standing there. “Our sensors indicate that an entity has suddenly appeared in this sector. What is your designation?” she asks of me.

“Paige Reaver-Demir.”

“Species.”

“Human.”

“Species of human.”

“Uhh...regular?”

“You are short for a regular human.”

Not really. “Am I?”

“You clothes, anatomy, and wonderment in your surroundings better resemble the average teenage human girl from early 21st century.”

I don’t say anything.

She lifts her head to examine me from a slightly different angle. “Right. Well, you are not authorized to be on the bubble relay. I can return you to anywhere on Earth that you would like.”

“Um, does Kansas City still exist?” I ask, knowing whatever this thing is, she already has the whole woman out of time thing figured out about me anyway.

“It most certainly does,” she replies. Then she starts walking down the hallway, expecting me to follow her.

We board a small ship, and drop down to Earth. I ask to land on the edge of civilization. I don’t tell her this, but I want to do some recon before I run into anyone else. Jesi wants me here, and she’s not a good person, which means I shouldn’t be here. I could hardly ask her to let me go to, like, a moon of Jupiter, or something, though. The only thing I can do is investigate.

“Wait,” I stop the sand entity before she takes off. “This may sound strange, but—”

“It’s April 10, 3117, by your calendar.” she interrupts.

“Oh. Thank you.”

“What the hell am I doing here?” I ask out loud after the sand creature flies away.

“You’re helping me build this fire,” a young man answers from several meters away.

Startled. “What?”

He stands from his crouch and draws closer, but not threateningly. “My parents put me in this program that teaches you how to do things the way people used to. Maybe you know how to start a fire with nothing but these tiny pieces of wood?”

I look down at his fire, and at the box of matches he’s holding. “How did you know I would be here?”

“I didn’t,” he says, laughing. “You just fell from the sky, like an angel, right on top of my solo lot. I was going to ask how you knew I would be here.”

If all Jesi wants me to do is help this poor kid light a fire, then I guess it can’t be too bad. Then again, this could start a fire that ravages the entire continent, for all I know. I decide to risk it. I step over and take the matches from him, and prepare to light the fire. “What the hell is this?”

“It’s my woodpile,” he says, like I’m the stupid one.

“Where’s your tinder?”

“My what?”

“Have you been trying to light these big sticks and logs?”

“Bigger sticks, bigger fire,” he starts off confidently, but clearly starts questioning his own logic by the end of the last word.

“Oh, dear. Let’s go get some bark. You got a knife?”

“Yeah.”

I have him shave tinder strips off the bark, then place the remaining pieces of top to act as kindling, so we can get the fire going. “Start small, and let it grow. You can’t just light the whole thing at once.” I pull a log off, and toss it across his camp lot. “This one is wet, it’s useless.” I continue the lessons, as needed, until we have a pretty good fire going that will be able to sustain itself for a good long time. “Did they teach you anything, or just throw you into the deep end on day one?”

“They threw us into the deep end on the second day,” he says.

I laugh, but realize that he isn’t. I think that his instructors literally threw him into a pool of water. Science and humans had both presumably advanced so much that people weren’t even swimming anymore. Not knowing how to light a fire from a match is one thing, but swimming should be an essential skill in any time period.

We watch our creation for a few minutes, at which point I abruptly turn around. “Kay, byeee.”

“Wait, can’t you stay?” he begs. “I’m supposed to make mores.”

“You mean s’mores?”

“See? I still need you.”

I suppose I won’t be able to get home until Jesi shows up, and sends me back through one of her sliding bubbles. “I guess I can stay a little while longer, Smalls.”

“My name is Asuk. I told you.”

“You’re killin’ me, Smalls. We make s’mores, but then I have to go.”

“Great.”

I help him with his cute little history project, then I proceed to stay with him for almost an entire year.

« < » > Entire Story

Microstory 925: Nanotechnology

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Let me start this off by explaining that nanotechnology does not exclusively deal with teeny tiny robots. Those are a big [sic] part of it, but they don’t tell the whole story, and are only being studied in some of the fields that can benefit from the subject as a whole. Nanotech refers to the manipulation of technology at nanometer scales, which can still always be incorporated into larger devices, like your phone. There’s this concept known as Moore’s Law, and in order to stop this from getting too technical, it basically means that computer processors are getting smaller and smaller all the time. Nanotechnology allows us to get so incredibly small that, not only can your phone itself be smaller, but it can be more powerful, allowing you to perform more complex tasks, faster. But again, that’s not all there is. Nanomedicine will do wonders for the development of cures for an array of diseases. You see, when it comes to your body, it’s all about the processes happening at miniscule scales, in the background, that you aren’t even conscious of. Little cells are floating around you, interacting with each other, and foreign objects, and performing the duties they’ve been programmed to carry out. This is what allows us to fight off diseases, while at the same time, it is the exploits in these microscopic systems that allow pathogens to take advantage of us in the first place. Our microbiome is under constant external threat, and certain cells are consistently required to learn to deal with dangers they’ve never seen before. But what if we could subvert all that? What if, when a new disease comes along, artificial cells could be the ones to attack the invaders, and heal the patient, just by more efficiently mimicking cells that evolved to do that for you. Highly specialized superserums can be injected in the early days, but as technology marches on, we will one day just have an army of these nanoregulators inside of us that can be updated over the air at the click of a button. You can request new resistance using an app on whatever device people are using in those days, or maybe there will be some central server that blasts a security patch to everyone all at once. Of course this all comes with risks.  What if someone figures out how to hack this? What can they program your system to do against your will? How far can they go? Can they order your body to literally start attacking itself? Can patches be reversed, or otherwise corrupted? What long-term effects would this regimen have on your system? Could it have a negative impact on your body’s natural functions, or those of your descendants? I don’t claim to have all the answers, which is why I love that thousands—maybe millions; what do I know?—of people are all working together to figure this all out before anything bad happens.