Microstory 1320: Team Dynamics

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Food and Health Department Head: Thank you for coming in one more time. I know it’s been a long process.

Communications Major: It has, but it’s okay. I only a few days ago gave my current employer my two weeks’ notice. Though, to be honest, I’m a little worried. I was told unofficially that I had a position here already. Should I...contact my boss again?

F&H Head: Oh no, definitely not. You have a position here. We just need to find you a good fit. That’s what this final step is for. It’s a suitability interview.

Comms Major: I’m not a hundred percent sure what that means.

F&H Head: We presently have four teams you could be placed with. You might be working in the Agriculture section, or with the Biomedical section, because of your scientific background.

Comms Major: I wouldn’t say I had a scientific background. I took a few science classes in college.

F&H Head: Did you take any engineering or robotics?

Comms Major: No.

F&H Head: Then F&H it is. Did the other interviewers tell you a little bit about how we do things here?

Comms Major: Only a little. I understand you operate in small teams, each of which is always the same size?

F&H Head: That’s right. There’s a reason why the few science classes you took are relevant. We want you to be able to communicate effectively with the rest of your team. You don’t have to be a field expert, but you have to have some idea what the others are talking about when you’re discussing the topics. Each team is composed of a Leader, a Researcher, a Communicator—that will be you—a Mediator, and a Writer.

Comms Major: Oh, okay. Interesting.

F&H Head: They did studies, and found that the best teams are based on diversity of skill. There are five skills, so each of them plays to the strengths of each team member. If you were particularly good at researching new topics, but also a really great leader, you might not do well in this organization, because we’re designed for permanent placement. There aren’t a whole lot of promotions going on here, because everyone is assigned to contribute in a particular way. I believe you went over that in the other interviews?

Comms Major: They did. I found that quite intriguing. It sounds like you have a robust merit increase program, but people aren’t meant to move up the ranks.

F&H Head: This is true. I was hired externally, as is most of the other higher level leadership. Some people don’t really care for that. They’re ambitious, and they think, if they’re good enough, they should be able to move up. But all you should truly care about is the success of the magazine, the positive impact we have on our readers, and the money you make that allows you to be happy in your personal life. It’s a radical stance, but it’s been working for us for the last three years.

Comms Major: Yeah, I love this magazine, but I had no idea it was organized so differently. Can you tell me more about how the teams work?

F&H Head: Well, obviously the Researcher and Writer are responsible for laying out the content in each article. They’re the ones who have to be field experts. The Communicator and Mediator have similar duties to each other, but we think you’re better suited to round up all the experts your team will have to talk to, while someone else handles the discussions themselves. We’re not opposed to you and the Mediator trading responsibilities now and then, though, or blending them together a little. It all depends on which team you’re on, and who you’re working with. This is all about group cohesion. Like I was saying about those studies, teams aren’t successful as long as everybody is smart, or even qualified. The most successful teams are the ones where everybody is good at something the others are not. Does that make sense?

Comms Major: It does. So, how do we decide which team I would be able to help the most?

F&H Head: We have to go meet them. Follow me.

Microstory 1319: Perfect

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Homicide Detective: I know this is a difficult time for you and your family, Madam Grieving Mother. These questions are going to be really hard to hear, and even harder to answer. They are important, though. Please understand that I mean no disrespect to your daughter. I have to ask these to get a clear picture of who she was. I don’t care what mistakes she made in the past, or what things she was caught up in. I only care about catching the person who did this. Does that make sense?

Grieving Mother: I get it. And I know you’re expecting to find out she wasn’t as great of a person as people thought she was. She secretly did drugs, or she had a gambling problem, or a boyfriend convinced her to break into that museum. That wasn’t her, though. I know a lot of parents are delusional when it comes to their children, but she really was perfect. It was actually kind of annoying sometimes. Kids are supposed to mess up, and disappoint their parents, so when the parents mess up, they retain the moral high ground. She never gave us that luxury, though. When we screwed up, the whole family felt it, because she put forth a standard that no one else could have reached.

Homicide Detective: Okay. Well, that answers a lot of the questions I normally ask, but it doesn’t answer all of them. You’re right, TV shows like to depict flawed victims, because it makes for compelling storytelling. It often, though, detracts from the fact that the perpetrator is the one at fault here. Unless it was an assisted suicide, your daughter could never truly be at fault anyway, because everyone knows murder is wrong. So, I’ll focus our efforts on criminology for now. Can you think of anyone who had a problem with her.

Grieving Mother: No, everyone loved her, like I said.

Homicide Detective: You also said it could be annoying. Perhaps there’s someone out there who took unreasonable offense to her, not despite how good she was, but because of it. Maybe someone at work didn’t like all the praise or attention she got?

Grieving Mother: I see what you’re saying, but I can’t think of anyone. Though, I probably wouldn’t have heard about it if there was someone. You would have to speak with her colleagues about it, because she never would have complained to others. Not only was she a little too perfect, but she also thought everyone else was perfect. That was also a little annoying. I guess that was her one flaw; she could only see the good in people, which is, of course, unrealistic.

Homicide Detective: So, maybe she did associate with the wrong person, but she didn’t realize it until it was too late.

Grieving Mother: It’s possible.

Homicide Detective: Tell me about this break-in at the museum. What was stolen?

Grieving Mother: Oh, I don’t really know. It was a lot of different stuff, and I don’t think any single item was all that valuable. The police thought it was—not quite a crime of opportunity—but also not extremely well planned out. They missed some big ticket items, so they think the thieves were just grabbing what they could, and hoping to get lucky.

Homicide Detective: Did the detectives on that case have any reason to believe it was an inside job, or that your daughter knew anything she wasn’t saying?

Grieving Mother: Why would my daughter have covered up a crime?

Homicide Detective: If she knew who the thieves were, she might have been protecting them; urging them to do the right thing, and turn themselves in, but protecting them nonetheless.

Grieving Mother: That’s a fancy story you’re weaving. It assumes a lot that you can’t possibly know.

Homicide Detective: I’m just gathering a suspect list right now. I only need to prove what happened, not what didn’t.

Grieving Mother: Just...be careful with your accusations, okay?

Homicide Detective: I will. Say, that’s an interesting little elephant ornament you got there. My grandmother used to have just one like it. Funny enough, I think she found out it was worth something, and ended up donating it to the museum. They weren’t on display yet, though. They’ve just been sitting in storage for a couple years.

Grieving Mother: Oh, that’s interesting.

Homicide Detective: Yeah, she actually donated a few...other...umm. Where did you get that little wooden teapot? And those glass insulators? Wait.

Grieving Mother: Your grandmother was the thief! My mother spent years curating this collection! It belongs to us!

Homicide Detective: All right, turn around.

Microstory 1318: Self-Representation

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Accommodating Judge: Mr. Self-Representing Defendant, I feel compelled to remind you that you did not finish law school, nor did you pass the bar exam. You probably know—though you may not—that you have the right to waive your opportunity at a closing argument.

Self-Representing Defendant: I understand, and I shall proceed as planned.

Accommodating Judge: If you choose to waive it, I will strongly encourage the prosecution to waive theirs as well.

Accommodating Prosecutor: We are prepared to waive it, Your Honor.

Self-Representing Defendant: I’m fine to go ahead.

Accommodating Judge: All right, then.

Self-Representing Defendant: Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, my client—which is me, of course; I will be referring to myself as my client. My client has done no wrong here, and I believe the trial I conducted adequately demonstrated this fact. As you already know, though I came close, I am no lawyer. I dropped out of law school for personal reasons; not academic issues, but I do recognize what I am lacking. I chose to represent myself, because I’m confident that the evidence speaks for itself. Do not fault the prosecution for the conclusion it came to. They have every reason to believe that I am guilty, but that does not mean that I am. It is true that I knew the victim, and I will admit that I became a little obsessed with her. I wouldn’t lie to you, even if I were not under oath. But there is one bit of evidence I wish to reiterate now. Miss Stalking Victim’s house was broken into. Anyone could have done that; my client is but one in a billion. Well...one in eight billion, more like it. There is one thing that my client had that no one else did, and though the prosecution used this fact against me, I consider it contradictory when taking the break-in into account. I—my client had a key. I know I shouldn’t have made a secret copy, but I did, and the past cannot be changed. Now, why would I—dammit—my client need to shatter a window to get into Miss Victim’s house if he had a perfectly good way of getting in without causing a stir? And why is she not here today? It’s because she did not press charges. Even she isn’t convinced that my client is guilty. Whose word are you going to take? If not mine, then at least respect hers. I certainly trust her; I always have.

Accommodating Judge: Mr. Defendant...

Self-Representing Defendant: Apologies, Your Honor. My point is that my client is not a perfect man, but that does not, on its own, lends itself to such grotesque violence. Yes, I had access to the lab where they keep the acid, but it was locked up in a chemical cabinet to which I did not have access. My client missed her deeply, but that is not enough to prove his involvement. If we were in the real world, I might have sided with the prosecution. But we’re talking about a college campus, where security is lax, at best. You cannot just limit your suspect pool to a handful of people. It’s too easy to frame somebody.

Accommodating Judge: Careful, Defendant...

Self-Representing Defendant: Apologies, apologies. I will say nothing more about it, but I urge you, good people of the jury...to wonder why it is that the police only questioned one other person regarding the horrible incident. It’s always the jealous ex, they say. Well, I say that’s a dangerous sentiment. Everyone is an ex.

Microstory 1317: First Resort

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Resort Supervisor: Well, Mister Retiree, this is quite an impressive résumé. You have done well for yourself, haven’t you?
Retiree: Well, I wouldn’t have been able to retire here if I hadn’t.
Resort Supervisor: Yes, Panama is a beautiful country. We’re happy to have you. The question is why are you here, at this resort?
Retiree: Well, I stayed here once a couple years ago, and in fact, that’s why I fell in love with this country, and why I decided to spend the last of my days as an expat. I had such a lovely experience for that first week, so I already knew this would be a great place to work.
Resort Supervisor: It is indeed a great place to work. Our people are very happy here. But they are also—shall we say—less fortunate than you. They work here, because this is where they’ve been able to make their money. We can’t all have run multi-billion dollar companies in the states.
Retiree: It was only multi-million dollar. Not that that matters to you, I see your point. I don’t want to take a job from anybody. I’m just looking for something to do. I spent my whole life on the grind, and didn’t ever find any hobbies, so now I’m just bored out of my mind. I need something to keep me busy.
Resort Supervisor: We definitely don’t have any full time positions available right now.
Retiree: That’s okay. I don’t have to stay busy all day. I just need a few hours to feel like I’m contributing positively to society. I’ll still sleep ten hours a day, and read my books. You know, I have no intention of breaking my back at this.
Resort Supervisor: Right. Well, like I said, people come to me because they need to. I’m not saying they can’t get work anywhere else; we only hire the best. But I’m not sure I can justify giving something to a millionaire. I mean, it just wouldn’t be fair.
Retiree: I understand. I just don’t know what to do.
Resort Supervisor: Well, just because you haven’t had any hobbies before, doesn’t mean you can’t have them now. You can try bird watching, or hiking, or maybe something with arts and crafts. We do all those things here, so you are not wanting for options, I’ll tell you that. You could also look into some volunteer work. Panama has hungry people, just like the U.S., you know. There are plenty of options out there. I don’t believe paid work is a good fit for you anywhere. I know at least that this resort is out of the question.
Retiree: Okay, I understand.

Microstory 1316: Wags For Days

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Local Anchor: That’s right, Co-anchor. Some of those dancers probably do have children of their own, who would enjoy it just as much. Well, it may not be as controversial as a park being built next to a strip club, but a new planned development in Twin Hillside has caused quite a stir. Local Reporter has more on the story.

Local Reporter: Thank you, Local Anchor. It’s called Wags for Days, and it’s a new pet care facility that does not yet exist, and if some of the neighbors have anything to say about it, it may never.

Local Anchor: Oh, that sounds interesting.

Local Reporter: Pet Expert was smiling on his way from the bank, where he managed to secure a big enough loan to found his own animal boarding-slash-groomer spot, but things quickly took a dark turn when he continued the process, and found himself butting heads with people he hoped would be his neighbors. They didn’t want him there, and at first, he didn’t understand why. For more, I’ve found a few residents who have a few things to say about Pet Expert, and his plans for Twin Hillside. Hello, and what’s your name?

Angry Resident: Hi. I’m Angry, and I’m angry. Pet Expert thinks he can come in here and ruin our quiet little neighborhood, but he doesn’t know who he’s messin’ with. We’re gonna fight back, and we’re gonna win.

Local Reporter: What exactly are you worried is going to happen if Pet Expert succeeds in his plans?

Angry Resident: He won’t! We’re gonna fight back!

Local Reporter: Right, but why are you fighting? What do you not like about Pet Expert’s plan?

Angry Resident: We’re upset about the noises.

Local Reporter: You mean you think the pets, particularly the dogs, will bark too much.

Angry Resident: Yeah, that’s it.

Local Reporter: Have you read Pet Expert’s proposal?

Angry Resident: Why would I do that? We’re gonna fight back!

Local Reporter: Yes, you’ve said that. What if I told you that Pet Expert’s development plan includes a soundproof simulated outdoor area where the dogs can do their business, and see the sun?

Angry Resident: Uh...what?

Local Reporter: The dogs won’t ever be outside. You shouldn’t be able to hear much barking.

Angry Resident: We still don’t want it, and we’re gon—

Local Reporter: Okay, thank you, Angry Resident. Let’s talk to someone else. What about you? Are you aware that you shouldn’t have to hear too much barking when this development goes up?

Annoying Resident: I don’t care about that. I got seven dogs myself, and my neighbor’s got pet squirrels, so my dogs don’t ever stop barking.

Nasty Resident: It’s true, it’s really annoying!

Annoying Resident: Shut up, Nasty! Your leaves fell on my lawn again!

Nasty Resident: I can’t control where the leaves fall! The wind takes ‘em!

Annoying Resident: Oh, you listen here, buddy!

Nasty Resident: Ya know, she only doesn’t want Wags for Days, because she’s trying to start her own doggy daycare place.

Annoying Resident: I’m not trying to start; it’s already started, I just can’t find any customers.

Nasty Resident: Gee, I can’t figure out why.

Local Reporter: And what about you, Nasty Resident? Why do you not want Wags for Days to be approved?

Nasty Resident: I ain’t got no problem with Wags for Days. I got a problem with Pet Expert.

Local Reporter: And why’s that?”

Nasty Resident: I heard he’s a homo.

Local Reporter: Okay, thank you, everybody. Please remember this is live. For ZZZZ News, this is Local Reporter, keeping you updated on everything you care about. Back to you, Local Anchor.

Local Anchor: Thank you, Local Reporter. Well, it may not be as divisive as a new pet care facility, but diners at a certain fast food restaurant are protesting its new menu, claiming its new Vietnamese owner might be feeding them dogs. In related news, I took a job in Kansas City.

The Advancement of Mateo Matic: December 6, 2274

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Most of what Athanaric Fury told them about Erlendr probably wasn’t all that useful. If the killer they were after was some kind of complete mystery, they probably could have used their knowledge of him against him in some way, but a lot of it Nerakali already knew. Even for the things she didn’t know about her own father, there was one important thing that made all of it obsolete. Erlendr Preston did not respond well to emotional appeals. He was driven almost exclusively by logic. Now, whether that logic was reasonable was an entirely different issue, but the point was they wouldn’t be able to stop him by bringing up all the people the hundemarke has hurt. Nor could his mind be likely changed by presenting him with new logic, because he was also stubborn, and he didn’t really believe that other people in the world were worth listening to. He was sounding a lot less like Nerakali and Arcadia—who were, even at their worst, always willing to listen to the other side—and more like their brother, Zeferino. They were only able to stop him because Gilbert Boyce protected them from the violence. That was no longer the case, so if brute force was the only option, would they be able to stomach it?

They still didn’t know how they were going to find the guy, even if they came up with a decent plan of attack. Then Leona seemed to come up with an idea. “We need help,” she began. “That’s been our problem this whole time. We keep trying to go out and find people one by one, and they’ve never been enough. They’ve also been very hard to track, especially since we’re getting so late in the timeline. From everything I’ve seen, time travelers seem to stick predominantly to the centuries surrounding the turn of the millennium. No one seems to know why—”

“I can kind of explain why,” Nerakali interrupted. “Well, I have a theory, because I have talked to people about it. Movies and the computer. People in the advanced age are more intelligent, and less superstitious. Mateo, when you first disappeared from the timestream for an entire year, your parents were very upset, but they didn’t freak out, and they didn’t try to exorcise a demon from your body when you came back. They figured it out, because humanity as a whole was capable of recognizing its own ignorance, and not attributing every good thing to God, and every bad thing to the devil. They wanted to understand, and that was enough to keep things sane until they did understand. Imagine going back to the seventeenth century, and explaining yourself. Why, a lot of people wouldn’t even be able to grasp the concept of time travel itself, so you’ve already lost before you began. Of course, that doesn’t mean time travelers can’t go back that far, or that they don’t. But a lot of it is uninteresting to them. They do it mostly to gain a rare perspective on history, and not everyone cares about that. There are just more things to do in the future.”

“That doesn’t explain why there are fewer travelers in the 24th century, and later,” Leona pointed out. “It’s even more advanced then.”

“Right, well now it’s too advanced. Now, it’s boring because everyone’s immortal, and life’s not as dangerous, so there aren’t as many people to save. A lot of entertainment exists in virtual constructs, which time travelers tend to shy away from, because again, it diminishes who they are. You control the laws of physics in a virtual world, which means anyone and everyone can have powers. No, it’s better to stay in the middle; not too early, and not too late. It’s a temporal goldilocks zone. If travelers were more aware that they were limiting themselves, they would probably deliberately stop doing it, but we’re mostly talking about the subconscious.”

“Okay, okay,” Leona said. She wasn’t upset about having been interrupted, and was genuinely interested in Nerakali’s tangent. It actually seemed helpful. “Well, regardless of how time travelers act normally, we know of one moment in history where a whole hell of a lot of them are going to be gathered, right? And though it’s happened in the past, it takes place in my future. I haven’t experienced it yet, but it is there that I can find help. I’ll have the pick of the litter.”

“You want to recruit from Mateo’s memorial service?” Nerakali questioned. She wasn’t reluctant, but she wasn’t quite on board with the idea either.

They looked over at Mateo, who had already experienced the memorial. He could give them insight into whether this was a good idea, if he were so inclined to divulge such information. “Uhh...careful, spoilers?”

“Is that a question?” Nerakali prodded.

“I don’t have a problem with him not being able to tell us,” Leona said. “My only problem now is I have no apparent way of getting to Dardius in 2263. Well, I guess Nerakali and I could jump back in time, and then use the Great Pyramid to jump there.”

“Great. It looks like you have it figured out.” Mateo released his Cassidy cuff, so when the other two started jumping through time, he wouldn’t be tethered to them. “Don’t worry, you’ll see me soon,” Mateo told Leona after she frowned at him.

“I’m worried about you being alone after I leave.”

“We’ll be gone and back in a blip,” Nerakali said. “And who knows how many friends we’ll have with us?”

“Go,” he said kindly. “It was a nice ceremony. I can tell you that it didn’t turn into a red wedding situation, or anything like that. It happened, and then it ended.”

“Were I you,” Leona said.

“Were I you,” he returned.

They both disappeared.

“God, I thought they’d never leave,” came a voice behind him.

Mateo wasn’t surprised to hear it. “I was worried they would stay too long, and you would get impatient.”

“No, that would screw up the timeline. I’m immortal. I have all the patience.”

Mateo turned around to face Erlendr Preston, who he met officially at the former’s memorial, just the other day. “Screwing up the timeline; isn’t that what you’re doing anyway?”

“You mean what we’re doing. And no, of course not; we’re fixing it.”

“I’m not so sure about that.”

“You agreed to the deal.”

“So, I can’t back out now?” Mateo asked.

“No, you can,” Erlendr assured him. “You can remove yourself from the equation, but that doesn’t mean it’s not happening. It just means you and Leona won’t be part of it.”

“I just want her to be safe,” Mateo argued. “You promised me that.”

“I can make her safe. I can’t get you away from the powers that be...but I can render them powerless. They’ll still be able to watch, but they won’t be able to change anything. No one will be able to change anything.”

“Then why are you changing things?” He still didn’t understand what Erlendr was going for here. Why was he sending the hundemarke all over time and space if he was ultimately planning to use the hundemarke against itself, and undo everything it had ever done? Arcadia seemed confident it made sense, but Mateo wasn’t much smarter than he was when this all started.

“I have to use the hundemarke a lot. I have to create so many fixed points in time, so when we finally screw with that, the universe will have no choice but to split in half.”

“Is it gonna be destroyed?”

Erlendr shook his head. “You can’t destroy a universe. This will work, Mateo. I’m going to create a world where time travel doesn’t exist, but I can’t do that without a paradox. The hundemarke, and the nonexistence of the hundemarke, have to be at profound odds with each other. If it’s not like that, one of the two realities will simply concede to the other, and collapse in on itself. If you want them both to exist at the same time, each one’s persistence must depend on the other’s. Does that make sense?”

Mateo didn’t start out with the intention of betraying Leona and Nerakali when he went to his memorial. He was hoping to get close to their enemy, so he could defeat him without involving either of them, or any of their other friends. Erlendr and Arcadia’s pitch was too compelling, though. He had long ago surrendered to the idea that there was no escape from the powers that be, but this was his opportunity to change that. Perhaps Leona would never forgive him for it, but at least she would be free. There was still one question, though. “Why did I get Bhulan to go to 2027? Your plan doesn’t work if she destroys the hundemarke.”

“It’s a contingency,” Erlendr explained. “If this doesn’t succeed, at least there’s a world where all those people I killed stay alive. I was only able to do this knowing it could all be undone, even if it’s not the way I wanted.”

“But it’s another paradox?”

“Yes, a third paradox. It’s not safe, I’ll tell you that.”

There was a brief pause in the conversation.

“So you’re sure Leona and Nerakali won’t be back until tomorrow?” Erlendr went on.

“Nope. I mean, yes, I’m sure. I told them to come back in 2275. I didn’t explain why, mostly because I don’t have a real explanation. I just needed to make sure you, Arcadia, and I have some time to discuss this in more detail. Where is she, by the way?”

“I think she’s here,” Erlendr replied cautiously, “watching us.”

“You can never tell with her,” Mateo noted.

“No. She’s, uh, wily.”

“She is coming, though, right? Whether she’s here now, or not, she’ll join the conversation soon?”

“Yeah, I’m sure she’s on her way.”

Arcadia suddenly appeared, but she wasn’t alone. Tons of water flowed out of her portal, and filled the room. It didn’t look like she had done this on purpose, because she was struggling to stop it. Back at the turn of the 22nd century, the Earthans were in the middle of a process to destroy all of their cities and towns, and replace them with arcological megastructures. Each tower was capable of housing tens of thousands of people, and though these towers were meant to be constructed in clusters, they still took up a whole hell of a lot less land than the metropolises of before. They were incredibly efficient, and were designed with emergency protocols in mind. Small ships were kept in vast hangars underneath the towers, which would allow the whole human race to evacuate within a single day, should a massive external threat come upon them, such as an alien invasion.

This wasn’t good enough for the humans, though. They wanted to be safer, and they wanted to be able to do it faster, so they repeated the process. For Project Airtight, they replaced every megastructure with a nearly identical one right next to it, and moved everyone over to it. Most of the look of the new structures remained the same. A time traveler from the past would have a hard time telling the difference just by looking at them. There was one extremely important difference, though. Instead of running drills every year that saw everyone rushing down to the bottom level, so they could enter their respective escape modules, and evacuate the planet a handful at a time, they just turned the whole thing into an escape pod. Each tower was a spaceship in its own right. Accounting for technical delays, and residents who were on safaris hundreds of miles away from the nearest arcity, the planet could now be evacuated within a few hours. This all meant the room the three of them were standing in now was completely sealed up. If someone didn’t figure out how to close the portal, or just teleport them out of here, they would drown. Even if they did escape themselves, what did that mean for the integrity of the room, or that of the rest of the ship?

Mateo looked around, but couldn’t lock eyes on his allies. He saw legs and heads thrashing about, but neither of them were making an effort to reach the surface. Had they both been knocked out? My God, this was up to him, and there was only one way out of it that he could think of. He reached into his bag, and pulled out his Cassidy cuff. Then he reinstalled it on his wrist, punched in the necessary sequence of buttons, and held his breath, because the water had reached the ceiling. He activated the instructions, causing Leona and Nerakali to appear, confused and scared. Now that he had the latter’s teleportation powers back, he prepared to use them. As he was swimming over to take hold of Arcadia’s body, Nerakali was swimming over to Erlendr’s, though there was too much chaos for him to know whether she knew who it was she was trying to rescue. Once they were all ready to go, Mateo teleported them all out of there, and dumped them onto the bank of a rushing river. He didn’t really do that on purpose, but water was kind of the only thing he could think about at the moment. Now the truth of his betrayal would have to come out. Oh, boy.

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Dardius: Horace Reaver (Part X)

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Horace Reaver was in prison. It wasn’t the first time being locked up, but he still had not gotten used to it. A bunch of stuff went down when an unhinged reality manipulator came to town, and started wreaking havoc on his and his people’s lives. Ace, as he was called at this time, and in this reality, submitted himself here somewhat voluntarily, in order to free a friend of theirs who never should have been here in the first place. It was under duress, though, so voluntary was probably the wrong word to use. He had so far been in here for six days, knowing full well that this didn’t mean his family was off schedule. They could get him out if they completed a mission for the prison, and their new partner advised them that it would take at least a week just to plan it. So he wasn’t worried, but he was already sick of it.

This place didn’t have yard time, cafeteria time, or anything. Prisoners remained in their cells permanently, because it was safer that way. Most of the inmates had special time powers, and The Warden said it wasn’t worth the risk to let anyone out for anything but medical or logistical reasons. Fortunately, each cell had access to its own pocket dimension, full of creature comforts, and wide open spaces. It wasn’t the same as being free, but it was better than a six-by-nine. To be clear, the six-by-nine regular cell did exist, and the pocket could be closed to punish prisoners for bad behavior, but according to a man named Tracker, that was rare, because prisoners knew there was no escape, and there wasn’t any point in causing trouble. Ace liked to spend time up in the front, outside of his pocket, because it allowed him to see outside the cell, into other people’s cells, and at the guards patrolling the area. It made him feel more trapped to be in a windowless room with low lighting, even if that room had a couch, bed, and entertainment. He ordered a lot of books. At the moment, he was sitting in his chair, reading one about bunnies, when he heard a commotion beyond his field of vision.

“Sir, please.” It was the Warden. Who could she possibly need to call sir with such deference? Was it possible there was someone even more powerful around here than her?

“You can’t stop me,” came a voice Ace didn’t recognize.

“How do you know that?” the Warden asked as they were just coming into view.

“I spoke with Meliora. She told me everything.” The two of them stopped at Ace’s cell. The man was smiling as deeply as the Warden was frowning. “Hello, old friend.”

“Do we know each other?” Ace asked.

“Mister Matic,” the Warden began, “those contingencies were designed to get you out of prison, if a mistake like that ever happened again. They were not meant for you to come in, and break someone else out.”

“I’m doing it anyway.” He reached up with both hands, and grasped the bars. While a lot of the security measures here were time power-based, it was still fitted with good ol’ fashioned cement blocks and thick metal gates. It looked like this kind stranger was preparing to rip them off with brute strength, which should have been impossible. Then again, time travel should have been impossible too, but that was quite clearly real.

“Wait,” the Warden said desperately. “If you do this, you effectively declare war on Beaver Haven.”

The man stopped to think about it for a moment, but less like he was considering changing his mind, and more like he was working out how he was going to combat this new threat. “Then I better make it count.” He tightened his grip on the bars, and pulled at them. They didn’t tear off like rice paper, but they did come completely off, leaving about a foot of space for Ace to slip through. Some of the other prisoners saw what happened, and began to make a ruckus. This drew more out, so that everyone could either see what was happening, or was close enough to hear others yelling updates.

“Are you going to stuff me back in there?” Ace asked the Warden once he was free.

She shook her head. “He’s made his choice. I can’t undo it any more than he can.”

“It’s not the last choice I’m gonna make,” the man said. He walked over to another cell, and tore the bars off of that one too.

A man named Curtis came out of it, and tipped his head cordially.

The man stepped one cell over, and did it a third time. “Oh,” he said when he saw Lucius just stand there. He pulled off two more bars, because Lucius was big as hell. That wasn’t it, though. Lucius still just stood there. “You can’t be put back in here. These people can’t move against me in that manner.”

“I deserve to be here,” Lucius replied in his low sexy voice. This guy was a god. If Ace weren’t with Serkan...

“No, you don’t,” the jailbreaker said. “You and Curtis have a destiny. I need you to take care of him.”

Lucius looked over at Curtis. Neither of them knew what he was talking about, but they trusted that the man was telling them the truth about their future together.

The Warden was extremely displeased. “Anyone else, Mister Matic?”

“Are Missy and Darko here?” Mr. Matic asked.

“Not in this reality,” the Warden answered, seemingly truthfully.

“Then my work is done here.” He pointed over to Curtis and Lucius. “You take them wherever they want to go. I’ll be taking Horace myself.

The Warden reluctantly looked up and over her glasses at a guard on the second level. She raised her hand, and gestured for him to come down, and presumably help transport the other two empardoned ones. Is empardoned a word? Well, it is now.

“Hey, Mateo,” Lucius called up to them as the mysterious savior and Ace were starting to leave. “I owe you a favor.”

Mateo smirked. “Nope. Now we’re even.” Time, right?

“Not that I’m not grateful,” Ace said as they were winding their way through the corridors. Guards were letting them through with no question. Who the hell was this guy, and why was everyone so afraid of him?

“Why did I break you out?” Mateo presumed. “You and I have had a complicated multi-timeline relationship, but I need to make sure you understand who you are.”

“I don’t understand.”

“One day, someone is going to come to you, and restore your memories. You will remember how much you hated me, and the terrible things you did to express that hate. I got you out of there, and I’m taking you to see something important, not so that you’ll remember how good of friends we are, but so that you’ll remember how good of a person you are.”

“Huh?” They opened the exit, and started to walk away from the secret prison. Ace chose to not look back. That was in his past, and he needed to get back to his family, and move forward. Mateo opened the back door of a car, and ushered Ace in. “Dave?”

“I’m not meant to be a literal chauffeur,” the driver said as Mateo was getting in as well. “That’s just a nickname.”

“Meliora agreed to help me get to either 2027, or 3413. I chose to come here, so you could help me with both missions. And you’re gonna do it, because this is your boss’ father. He’s your grandboss.”

The Chauffeur rolled his eyes, and restarted the car. “That’s not a thing.”

“You know Meliora?” Ace asked.

“Not super well, but yes,” Mateo confirmed.

“And you know me too?”

“From other realities, and the future in this reality, yes.”

“But you’ve seen my darkness.” Ace didn’t know it had anything to do with alternate timelines, but there were some things about himself that he couldn’t explain. He sometimes experienced...outbursts of violence that didn’t make any sense. They didn’t feel like him, but at the same time, they felt more like him than anything else. This all scared him a great deal, and if this Mateo guy could save him from that, he was willing to try just about anything.

Dave drove them to a hospital, and waited in the parking lot while Mateo took Ace up to a room. It was empty, but lived in, and the bathroom door was closed. They heard a flush, and a hoarse voice Ace thought he recognized. “Can I get some help here?”

“Stay here,” Mateo instructed. He slipped into the bathroom to help, and came out two minutes later with Jesimula Utkin.

“Thank you,” she said graciously. “Ace! What are you doin’ here, man?”

“Uhh...I’m here to see you.”

“Oh, that’s cool. I’m on drugs.”

“It sounds like it. Are you okay?”

“Oh, I’m great! I’m on this new diet, and just lost three ounces in a few hours!”

“Her kidney,” Mateo clarified as he was helping Jesi back into bed. “She just donated her kidney.”

Jesi placed her hand to the side of her mouth. “It was anonymous,” she told him in a loud whisper.

“I don’t understand,” Ace repeated. “Who did you give it to? Or was the recipient anonymous too?”

“The hospital thinks she was,” Mateo began to explain, “but we know who it was.”

“Yes,” Jesi agreed. “Leona Mulaney.”

“Delaney,” Mateo corrected.

“Right. Delaney Mulvaney,” Jesi said.

“She saved Leona’s life?” Ace asked. “She’s my daughter’s friend.”

“She’s my future wife,” Mateo said. “I mean that literally. I couldn’t give her my own kidney in this reality, so Jesi stepped up. How can you prevent her from adapting your time power, though?” he asked Jesi.

“I don’t have any powers anymore,” Jesi explained. “I assimilated myself into my alternate, and used her body as primary. I’m just a normal forty-five year old now.”

“You don’t look forty-five,” Ace pointed out.

“I still got friends,” Jesi argued. “Damn, man!”

“I’m sorry.”

“Forgiven. No, you’re threegiven, because I’m still a little mad.”

“Jesi, your light’s on,” Mateo informed her.

Jesi smiled, and lifted a little button. “Cool.” She started pressing it over and over again, still smiling dumbly at it.

“Don’t worry,” Mateo said. “It won’t give her more pain medication than she’s allowed to have.”

“I don’t know what to say.”

“You did this,” Mateo said as Jesi was falling asleep. “You saved Leona’s life, because you didn’t give up on Jesi. You helped her become a better person, and I’m trying to keep you the same way. When someone comes to blend your memories with those of your alternates, focus hard on this moment. You’ve done a lot of good in your life, even in the other timelines. But let this memory be your anchor. I was told to come here to take you to my funeral. Don’t ask how that works, it’s complicated. The point is that I’m not going to do that. If you make it to the service, then great, I have a job for you. But I can’t let you do that job if you don’t remember everything about what we’ve been through together. So after they blend your brain—and once you’re ready—come to Dardius in the year 2263. Can you do this for me? I don’t know when it will be for you, but I want you to be prepared for it.”

“I can do that. I don’t really get what’s going on, but I will do my best.”

Mateo smiled softly, and placed a hand on Ace’s shoulder. “I know you will.” He took him into a warm hug. “I gotta get to Stonehenge, but be careful. I hear this Omega Gyroscope thing is a real threat to the universe.” And with that, he left.

Not two seconds later, someone else came into the room, and for a moment, Ace couldn’t believe it. Then he recalled Serkan’s advice to act like ya been there, and contained his confusion. It was another Horace Reaver.

Future!Horace reached into his shirt, and retrieved the hundemarke; a special object capable of creating moments in time that cannot be changed via temporal manipulation. He handed it to Present!Horace.

“What am I meant to do with this?” Present!Horace questioned.

Jesi woke up, but just long enough to cry, “throw it in the portal!”

Future!Horace shook his head no. “She’s talking about something else.” Then he just walked out of the room without another word.

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Microstory 1315: Fear For Life

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Bad Cop: Stop crying!

Little Girl: Wha?

Bad Cop: STOP CRYING! Big girls don’t cry!

Little Girl: I’m not a big girl.

Bad Cop: You got that right. How old are you?

Little Girl: Six and a quarter.

Bad Cop: You should be able to stop crying once you turn six and an eighth.

Little Girl: What does that mean?

Bad Cop: Oh my God. Get in the car.

Little Girl: I can’t reach up that high.

Bad Cop: Why not.

Little Girl: My hands are handcuffed behind my back.

Bad Cop: They’re not handcuffed, you idiot, they’re zipcuffed.

Little Girl: Okay.

Bad Cop: Fine, I’ll pick you up.

Little Girl: Please don’t arrest me. I wanna go home.

Bad Cop: I’m taking you to the police station. We’ll call you parents from there.

Little Girl: Nooooo!! Just let me go!

Bad Cop: It ain’t gonna happen, Elsa. You’ve been a bad girl.

Little Girl: I just wanted to wear my hat. I didn’t do anything.

Bad Cop: Why did you need to wear the hat?

Little Girl: It’s the last thing my daddy gave me before he went to sleep.

Bad Cop: You mean he died?

Little Girl: Mom called it going to sleep.

Bad Cop: Well, that’s not what happened. He died.

Little Girl: ...

Bad Cop: What did I just tell you about crying!

Little Girl: Please! Just let me go.

Bad Cop: No. I’m taking you to holding, so you can think about what you did.

Little Girl: Holding what?

Bad Cop: Holding is a place you go when you do bad things, before a judge sees you, and sends you to prison.

Little Girl: I don’t want to go to prison.

Bad Cop: Well, you may not have to, if you promise not to hurt people again.

Little Girl: I didn’t hurt anyone.

Bad Cop: Your teacher said you screamed so loud, you hurt his ears.

Little Girl: I didn’t mean to.

Bad Cop: That doesn’t matter. You did it.

Little Girl: Pleeeeeeeaaaaaaassssseee-uh!!

Good Cop: What’s going on here?

Bad Cop: I’m dealing with it, Good. I don’t need backup.

Good Cop: Are you arresting a seven-year-old girl?

Bad Cop: No, she’s six. Youngest I’ve ever arrested.

Good Cop: You say that with such pride.

Bad Cop: I’m just stating a fact.

Good Cop: Bad Cop, you are not under arrest for assaulting a minor, but I still recommend you keep your mouth shut. Anything you say will definitely be used against you when I talk to the captain about this. A union rep will be provided to you, but I don’t think she’s going to be pleased with what you’ve done. Let the girl go, and follow me back to the station. That’s an order. Decent Cop, please handle things here. I’ll check in with you later. And find out who called the cops on a kindergartner.

Decent Cop: Yes, boss.