Microstory 1384: Journalistic Objectivity

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Celebrity Interviewer: Truth be told, I do not care for being on this side of the interview.

Entertainment News Colleague: We’ve not even begun.

Celebrity Interviewer: There. That’s the attitude I had, and I was fired for it.

Entertainment News Colleague: Like I said, we haven’t begun.

Celebrity Interviewer: Ugh. I know.

Entertainment News Colleague: We don’t have to do this. I can go run with another story.

Celebrity Interviewer: No, I’m here. I wanna tell my side of the story.

Entertainment News Colleague: Your story is that you were fired recently. Tell me about what precipitated that.

Celebrity Interviewer: First of all, I want to make sure the public understands that I’ve learned my lesson. Journalistic objectivity isn’t something to be taken lightly, but it’s also something that’s very easy to lose sight of. I wouldn’t have gotten the job in the first place if I had developed a reputation of being completely unbiased during my earlier reporting. It starts off small. You make one quip here, inject a bit of your own personal opinion, and it snowballs. I didn’t realize how bad my work had gotten until I watched that supercut.

Entertainment News Colleague: You’re referring to the viral video going around the internet that shows you disrespecting your interviewees.

Celebrity Interviewer: Yes, that’s right. Obviously, I always watch my own interviews, but seeing the worst parts of them all stitched together really opened up my eyes. I was, as you said, disrespectful, and dishonorable. I don’t do that anymore.

Entertainment News Colleague: How did you react when you learned your former assistant is the one who edited and uploaded that supercut?

Celebrity Interviewer: I was relieved and proud of her. She saw an injustice, and she took it upon herself to report that.

Entertainment News Colleague: So, you weren’t mad?

Celebrity Interviewer: Absolutely not. We’re still really great friends. And I don’t mean that as a polite white lie for the public to believe. We really are, and I’m sure she’ll corroborate that.

Entertainment News Colleague: But she’s no longer your assistant.

Celebrity Interviewer: Of course she isn’t. She’s going places, and I wouldn’t have wanted her career to stall by wasting her time managing my calendar, and getting me coffee.

Entertainment News Colleague: Okay. So you mentioned that you don’t conduct interviews in the way you were criticized for doing. I assume that means you’ve gotten another job as a reporter?

Celebrity Interviewer: Yes. I had no shortage of offers from competing media organizations after I was fired. Unfortunately, I had to wait six months before I could accept any one of them, because I signed a standard six-month non-compete clause with my former employer.

Entertainment News Colleague: Was your new employer sympathetic to your situation, or did they agree with your critics?

Celebrity Interviewer: I don’t think those two are mutually exclusive. They agreed completely with my critics. They knew, however, that I would never do it again, because the whole situation humiliated me, and I don’t want to feel like that again. The six months I was unemployed were pretty difficult. I had trouble keeping up with my bills and rent payments. I was never living under and overpass, or anything, but it was rough. Honestly, I believe my former employer would have hired me back, knowing I’ve corrected my behavior, but that would have been bad publicity.

Entertainment News Colleague: So, you harbor no resentment from them?

Celebrity Interviewer: I harbor no resentment for anyone.

Entertainment News Colleague: What about Ex-Cop? Your interview with him was said to be the last straw.

Celebrity Interviewer: Legally speaking, I’m not allowed to discuss Ex-Cop, the scrapped film he was cast in to play himself, the interview itself, or anything related.

Entertainment News Colleague: Okay. So, you said you had some financial troubles after you were let go. But your public image doesn’t seemed to have taken a hit.

Celebrity Interviewer: That’s true, and part of the reason I was able to get hired again so quickly. The public was actually on my side. Most of them couldn’t see anything wrong with how I treated my interviewees, or the news itself. But that’s because they’re not journalists, who agreed to be impartial, objective, and unbiased. I’m grateful for them, for sticking by me, but that doesn’t make what I did okay. I still apologize to my audience for that.

Entertainment News Colleague: Well, I would say good luck with your career, but that wouldn’t be very unbiased of me, so instead, I’ll just say thank you for the interview.

Celebrity Interviewer: Thank you as well. I appreciate the opportunity to explain myself.

Microstory 1383: Solitude

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News Reporter: Solitudinarian, thank you so much for meeting with me. It is a great honor.

Solitudinarian: Thank you.

News Reporter: First question, have you found it difficult to reintegrate into society, because of all the technology you’re not familiar with?

Solitudinarian: Because of all the technology with which I’m not familiar.

News Reporter: That’s one thing that’s changed in the forty-two years you were away.

Solitudinarian: Grammar? Grammar doesn’t change.

News Reporter: Okay.

Solitudinarian: It’s been tough, but I’m not sure I would use the term reintegration. I have no interest in remaining in your world, even after all I’ve seen.

News Reporter: But you returned to society because you needed something?

Solitudinarian: Yes, I was dying of an infection. I was feeling desperate, and I came back for help. I had no idea there would be this huge media frenzy about it. I only agreed to this interview, because you work for a station that I recognize. I don’t understand all these padcasts, and computer bogs.

News Reporter: So, you still feel disillusioned with civilization?

Solitudinarian: I can’t really answer that honestly. I mean, I don’t know everything that’s been going on. I still see racism, though. And I see the government is still standing, which I’m opposed to. It may be a better government. It may even be the best possible, but I still do not wish to remain under its rule.

News Reporter: Fair enough. Tell me about how you were living. What did you do day-to-day?

Solitudinarian: Well, I stuck near my cabin. It’s by a bountiful stream so I never wanted for food. I learned what plants were edible in my area, and eventually cultivated, so I could grow them in a more controlled environment, and in sufficient quantities.

News Reporter: Did you hunt?

Solitudinarian: ...

News Reporter: I’m sorry, I didn’t know it was a trick question.

Solitudinarian: I’m ashamed to say I did. Very infrequently, though. If I had a bad winter, I might have to catch a rabbit or two. But I still consider myself a pescatarian. I don’t even keep a goat for milk, or anything.

News Reporter: When you started getting sick, had you experienced anything like that before? What were your thoughts?

Solitudinarian: I’ve been sick before, of course, even after I left home. I always got through it, but I do understand that I’m an old man now, and my body doesn’t get over things like it used to. According to doctors, all I needed were antibiotics, and they were pretty convinced I did the right thing by seeking help. It was definitely a last resort, though. I didn’t want to do it.

News Reporter: Well, we’re all glad you survived.

Solitudinarian: For your interview?

News Reporter: Nope. Just because you’re a human being, and we could all do a little bit better at looking out for one another.

Solitudinarian: I see.

News Reporter: Let’s switch gears a little bit. Has anyone tried to teach you how to use a computer, or a phone, or any other tech that wasn’t around before you went into the woods?

Solitudinarian: They’ve taught me some. The social worker the state assigned me gave me something called a flip phone. They tried to give me this crazy device that you’re supposed to use with your fingers. There aren’t any buttons on the thing itself. It all comes up on the screen. Anyway, I’m sure you know what I’m talking about, and I sound like an idiot.

News Reporter: You do not, sir.

Solitudinarian: I couldn’t handle it, so they just gave me a regular one, so they can keep in contact with me. I still have to remember to plug it in every week, which has caused some problems, because in my day, phones just stayed plugged in.

News Reporter: So, they set you up with housing too? You have a room?

Solitudinarian: Yeah, I live in something called a halfway house. It’s for people who just got out of prison. They got ‘em all over, but this particular one is designed for old men like me, so I don’t have any problems with them.

News Reporter: But you’re trying to get back to the woods?

Solitudinarian: The doctors say they want me to stay to run more tests, but I’ve made peace with my condition. If anything like this happens again, I’ll just stay in my cabin, and wait to die. Like I said, I’m old. When I was born, life expectancy was only around seventy, so I would say I did okay. My life’s been pretty great. I don’t pay taxes, or deal with nosy neighbors. I’m ready to go, if it’s my time.

News Reporter: In terms of taxes, how does that work? Are they saying you broke any laws by leaving society?

Solitudinarian: My social worker is helping me with the legal stuff, to make sure I didn’t do anything wrong. I think it’s gonna be fine. He’s confident, even if I do technically owe the government money, they’ll waive it, because I haven’t actually done anything bad. The fact that I was so young when I left, I don’t own any guns, and I’ve never stolen, works in my favor.

News Reporter: That’s interesting. Thanks for speaking to us. I hope you go back to the life you want, but I also want you to be safe and healthy.

Solitudinarian: Thank you very much, madam.

Microstory 1382: Social Psychology

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Roommate: Oh my Gosh, this is so weird.

Psych Major: It doesn’t have to be weird.

Roommate: So, you want me to make up new problems?

Psych Major: Yes, don’t talk about any real problems. I am not a licensed therapist yet, so it’s not really within my purview to ask you about your real life. I mean it, you’re supposed to come up with something new. It’s okay if you have to take a little time to come up with a good cover story.

Roommate: Okay, just give me a minute.

Psych Major: We can do this later tonight, or even tomorrow, if you would rather. It’s not due until Friday. I do need some time to organize a little presentation.

Roommate: No, I’ve got it. Go ahead.

Psych Major: Okay. So, what brings you in today?

Roommate: I assassinated the king of South Canada, and I’m feeling really depressed about it.

Psych Major: Okay...

Roommate: Ha, I can come up with something more practical.

Psych Major: No, this is good practice. Except for the fact that South Canada doesn’t exist—which is probably for the best, honestly—that’s a technically possible scenario, just maybe not in our universe. So. Tell me. Why did you feel the need to assassinate the king?

Roommate: I asked him for help irrigating my corn, and he refused, so our crops failed, we couldn’t sell enough, and my youngest son died of starvation.

Psych Major: So, are you depressed about having assassinated the king, or are you more depressed about your son?

Roommate: Hm. I guess that’s a good point. I didn’t care for the king, and I’m glad he’s dead. But I loved, and miss, my son.

Psych Major: So, if you could go back in time, you would do it all again, just like that?

Roommate: I would, yeah. I wasn’t caught, of course, so I stand by my actions.

Psych Major: Do you have any other violent thoughts? Are there other people you feel deserve to die?

Roommate: Ah, I’m not falling for that trickery. I know you can’t report me to the police, because the crime has already happened, but you would be free to do so if I admit to the intention to commit some crime later.

Psych Major: That’s not quite how the law works, but I see your point. Still, ignoring what you’ve done in the past, if you really do feel like you need to hurt someone, perhaps we can work on channeling your frustrations, so they come out in more productive ways. Have you tried talking to these people who frustrate you?

Roommate: Not really.

Psych Major: I want you to pretend that Penka Penguin, sitting on that shelf, is your worst enemy. This is a judgment free zone, so tell Penka whatever you want. What would you want to say to her that you wouldn’t be able to without getting in trouble?

Roommate: I would look her in the eye, and tell her how irritating she can be, and how I feel like I can’t be myself around her.

Psych Major: I’m sorry to hear that. What does she do to make you feel this way?

Roommate: Well, she’s always talking about her classes, and how rewarding it is to be learning all these things, and I just feel inadequate because I’m only a business major.

Psych Major: You’re a business major.

Roommate: Yes.

Psych Major: No, I mean you, Roommate, are actually a business major. You’re meant to be making this up.

Roommate: Oh, right. I’m a...art history major.

Psych Major: Roommate, do I make you feel like what you’re studying isn’t good enough?

Roommate: I was just playing a character. I slipped up when I mentioned a fact that’s true about the real me.

Psych Major: I feel like maybe you slipped up when you started talking about how someone you know irritates you because she’s always talking about her classes.

Roommate:  Psych Major, I don’t want to kill you.

Psych Major: I’m glad to hear that, but maybe there’s a little bit of truth to what you said?

Roommate:  ...

Psych Major: We need to have a discussion. I don’t think being a business student makes you inadequate, and if I’ve done anything to make you feel this way, we should talk about it. Not a therapy session, but a real talk between us.

Roommate: It’s not that big a deal, and it’s certainly not worth failing your psychology assignment. 

Psych Major: I won’t fail, I’ll just cut this part out.

Roommate: I really don’t want to kill you.

Psych Major: What you said is what we in the business call parapraxis. It’s when your subconsciousness rises to the surface, and you accidentally vocalize your true feelings, even if doing so could damage your social health. Obviously the assassin bit was just a fabrication, because you having access to a king is an absurd notion. But then when I asked you about other people you’re having trouble with, your gut reaction was to think of the honest answer to the question. Then you said it out loud before you remembered we were pretending.

Roommate: That all sounded really smart. You’re kind of proving my point here, but I recognize that you’re not doing it on purpose. So let’s talk.

Microstory 1381: Vibes

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Office Manager: Welcome, Recent Graduate.

Recent Graduate: Thank you.

Office Manager: Based on our interview, I see no reason you won’t thrive in this work environment. Still, we would like you to get to know the team before you begin next week. We called this a suitability interview, because that’s what legal says we have to call it, but it will be really informal. Don’t stress about answering questions, or anything. Just act like you’re at a party. Don’t emulate Office Drunk, though.

Office Drunk: Hey, I heard that.

Office Manager: Great. So go on, mingle. I’ll leave you all to it. I already know I like this guy.

Office Motormouth: Hello, hi, how are ya? What’s goin’ on? You feelin’ good? You’ll be sitting here, right next to me. New hire always gets the old office chair. Have you lived in Hillside your whole life? Do you have a boyfriend or girlfriend? Do you have any kids? What do you wanna be when you grow up? I don’t suppose you want to be an office assistant your whole life. You just graduated from college, right? What did you major in? Would you major in that again, if you could go back and start over?

Office Aspirant: Stop overwhelming the boy, Office Motormouth.

Recent Graduate: No, it’s okay. I can handle it. I was born in Hillside, but moved to Kansas City before I could walk. I came back here for college, and decided to just stick around. I do not have a boyfriend, nor any kids. I’m here to climb the corporate ladder, and go as high as I can go, so being an assistant is just the beginning of my career, but I have no current plans to leave the company to work somewhere else, if that’s what you’re asking. I did just graduate, of course, with a general education degree. I like to learn about a lot of things, and pinning myself down to just one field of study seemed too normal. No offense, I hope. If I could do it all again, I would do it the same way. It got me here.

Office Motormouth: Oh. Those are great answers. Now—

Office Aspirant: You’ve had your turn, Motormouth. Listen, kid, you remind me a lot of me when I was your age.

Office Busybody: That was, like, two years ago.

Office Aspirant: I had aspirations, just like you. And look at me now, I already have two direct reports. You could be just like me one day too, if you work hard.

Office Busybody: Those aren’t your direct reports, Office Aspirant. They put you in charge of the seasonal temps this year, because no one else wants to do it. They don’t actually answer to you, though.

Office Aspirant: Don’t mind her.

Office Busybody: No. Don’t mind him.

Recent Graduate: I’m looking forward to working with all of you. Equally.

Office Motormouth: Another great response.

Office Busybody: Anyway. Those temps I was telling you about? Well, they’re sleeping together. But word is that Seasonal Temp 2 also has a thing going with Accountant from accounting. But you didn’t hear it from me.

Recent Graduate: Hear what?

Office Busybody: Good boy.

Office Creep: So, speaking of sleeping with people, if you could sleep with any celebrity, who would it be?

Office Motormouth: Office Creep, stop being a creep. You’re gonna make him call HR on his zeroth day!

Recent Graduate: No, it’s okay. But. I’m not going to tell you that.

Office Drunk: Do you have any mints?

Recent Graduate: I do, actually. Right here.

Office Drunk: Hey, is that a purse?

Office Aspirant: It’s called a satchel.

Recent Graduate: No, it’s a purse. I carry a purse, because it’s 2018, and men can have purses. I don’t believe in gender roles.

Office Drunk: Right on, right on. Hey, we’re probably gonna grab drinks after work. Are you in? What’s your favorite bar? What’s your poison?

Recent Graduate: I don’t care to drink much. I’m sure I’ll just get something with a lot of sugar to cover the taste of alcohol.

Office Drunk: A man who knows what he wants. I agree with Office Manager; I like this guy. Come on, new guy, lemme show you what’s what on this floor.

The Advancement of Mateo Matic: Tuesday, March 29, 2022

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As soon as the final bullet landed in its target, everyone stopped. Two sides of the battle dropped their weapons, and watched Anatol Klugman as he was dying. People were dying all around them, but it was as if they knew this death was different. Were they somehow aware that Mateo had pulled the trigger, with a weapon that wouldn’t exist for nearly a century and a half? Anatol fell to the ground, and exhaled his last breath. And then, just like that, everyone else disappeared. Arcadia had said that this battle wasn’t even meant to be part of the Franco-Prussian War. The hundemarke had created the battle that would create the hundemarke. But if the hundemarke were never allowed to exist at all, the war wouldn’t exist in this time period either. It was ended months ago in this new timeline. It didn’t make any sense, but then again, when it came to the hundemarke, nothing really made sense anyway.

Anatol’s body lied there alone. The screen slowly turned black. And then, so did all the others. Some of them had been shaded red, which meant Jupiter wanted to paradox them by killing killers before they could kill with the hundemarke. The screens shaded blue, however, were ones he wanted to persist, even in this new reality. None of them was safe, though. They were all turning black, because none of them ever happened.

Jupiter watched the whole chamber turn, and with it, his apparent plans for world domination. “What did you do? What? Did? You? Do?”

“Leona?” Mateo said in the form of a question, but he didn’t really know what he was asking of her.

“I think you did the right thing,” Leona said. “I know it doesn’t sound like me, but...”

“I agree,” Ramses added. “Hard reset. The hundemarke is responsible for so much death. The world is a better place without it.”

“Are freaking kidding me?” Jupiter was seething. “The moment that you destroyed was everything. It occurred in the first reality ever.” It was like he was experiencing true grief. “Three temporal objects were created on May 23, 1871. First, the hundemarke. It creates fixed moments in time. The second, was the Sword of Assimilation. It can transfer time powers. Well, actually, I think it can transfer any special property from one individual to another, but in terms of our world, time powers are the only things that matter. The third...” He couldn’t finish his sentence.

“What is it, Jupiter Preston?” Declan prompted.

“Don’t call me that!” Jupiter cried. “My name is Fury.”

“I thought it was Rosa,” J.B. said.

“My alternate goes by that name, but I’m Fury.”

“Keep explaining,” Leona coaxed.

Jupiter composed himself. The third object that was created on May 23 was the Omega Gyroscope. It was...kind of a toy that one of the soldiers was carrying with him. I guess he planned on giving it to his son, or something? It can manipulate reality in any way imaginable, and any way unimaginable. It can do literally anything.”

“Well, that sounds dangerous,” Mateo figured. “I’m not sure it’s a bad thing it doesn’t exist in this timeline.”

“You don’t get it.” Jupiter was shaking his head profusely. “The Omega Gyroscope is responsible for time travel.” He waited for a reaction before continuing, “it led to everything! It led to everyone you’ve ever known existing. It led to the Saviors of Earth, to the salmon, to the Gallery. This world is nothing without it. It’s..nothing!”

Mateo approached Jupiter, and placed his hand on his shoulders. “It’s not nothing. It’s what the world should be. It’s what nearly everyone believes the world is...until someone like us shows up, and reveals the truth.”

“You still don’t understand, Matic. You erased time travel from history. We may not be in what we were calling The Parallel, because it might not be running parallel at all. You might have just destroyed the timeline you come from. We could be stuck here forever. You know how many trillions of people you just killed?”

“I know how many people I killed,” Mateo defended. “I killed one person here today. At least in terms of traveling through time, I only killed one person. Every time you go back, even just one second, you’re collapsing the timeline you came from, right? So I’m not any more of a killer than any of you. Don’t try to guilt me. I stand by what I did, even if it means this is just where we live now.”

“Yeah,” his friends backed him up in relative unison.

“And I’m not so sure we can’t call this the Parallel,” Mateo went on. “I just carried out Arcadia’s plan, and I hardly think she would have wanted to undo the creation of this gyroscope thing, if it’s so important to you people.”

“She wasn’t going to do that,” Jupiter argued. “She was only going to erase the hundemarke. There is a moment that we mapped that could have prevented the one, but not the other two, from existing. She was going to act on that moment, but you preempted it. You stopped the whole thing. You essentially went back too far.”

“I’m sorry you lost,” Mateo said. “I guess, if time travel doesn’t exist, there’s nothing you can do about it now.”

“Oh, to be sure, time travel doesn’t exist in this timeline, because we’re still in the miniature Gallery chamber. But when we step out, we’ll integrate ourselves fully into the timestream.” He held up his primary Cassidy cuff. “We’re just the only six people with time travel capabilities right now.” He reached out to the keypad, input the code, and opened the door. The basement was a total mess. Furniture was strewn about the floors. Leaky pipes were hanging from the ceiling. Exposed wires were sparking. A little fire was burning in the corner that probably wasn’t going to get much bigger. The walls were blown out.

“I’ve seen this before,” Leona said as she was stepping out. “This is what it looks like in our timeline...sometimes. It spontaneously switches back and forth between perfectly pristine, and destroyed.”

“I guess now we know where that temporal anomaly comes from,” Mateo said with a smile. “I think that’s pretty good evidence that this really is the Parallel, and not all there is.”

“Maybe,” Jupiter was forced to admit the possibility. He started tapping on his cuff screen.

There was a sharp gust of wind, and the fire disappeared, but other than that, things looked about the same. “What did you do?” Declan asked.

“I wanted to test the new pattern,” Jupiter answered. “Nailed it too. This is March 29, 2022.”

“What is the significance of this date?” Leona asked.

“I just said it. It’s your new pattern. It combines yours with Jeremy’s. You were designed to jump forward one year at the end of every day. He only lives on Tuesdays and July. There are certain instances where these dates intersect, and now that is all you will ever know.”

“What is the point of that?” Mateo questioned. “What are you getting out of this?”

“Well, I did have plans for you, which is why I chose all five of you to come with me to the Parallel. Those have since changed, but I see no reason to change everything. You’ll still remain on this new pattern until I decide otherwise. I guess we’ll find out if you were right about the old timeline staying intact.” Without another word, he teleported away. Not that it mattered. They would eventually figure out how to break their connection to him and his primary Cassidy cuff, and when they did, they would be free of all control. The powers that be had no jurisdiction here, and as the man said, there weren’t any other time travelers either. This could have been everything Mateo had been searching for since this all began.

“Let’s get out of here,” Ramses decided. “We need to find out what the rest of the world looks like in this reality.”

They struggled to climb up the stairs of the basement. Even though they were made of concrete, and remained mostly structurally sound, they were covered in debris. Large chunks were torn off as if bitten into by a dinosaur, and the whole thing could come crashing down eventually. The steps didn’t lead them to the first floor of Fletcher House. They had to pull themselves up a wall of dirt and dead grass, and push other vegetation out of the way. When they finally emerged from underground, they saw little else but a meadow at the edge of a forest. They should have been standing in the middle of the suburbs, but it was all gone. They didn’t know what to think.

Declan pulled one of his pant legs up, and removed a cuff from his shin. He started fiddling with the screen.

“You hid that from Jupiter?” Leona asked.

“It’s just my backup teleporter cuff,” Declan started to explain. “I keep it there in case my primary one is damaged, not if an evil clone steals it from me.”

“That could come in handy,” Ramses noted.

“No, it won’t.” Declan wrapped it back around his leg. “Well, I could use it to transport us from here to over there. He shut one eye, and pointed to the distance. “If we wanted to travel the globe, we would need at least one satellite to do it. There aren’t any satellites, though.”

“There aren’t?” Leona was the most shocked by this, but obviously everyone understood how strange this was.

Declan went on, “my mother dispatched a very small and undetectable constellation so I could navigate the world. If those failed me, however, I should still be able to hack into any number of other artificial satellites up there. It’s like when you go hiking, and can’t find a single WiFi signal. There’s nothin’ up there. At all. This world is not space-capable.”

“Thoughts, Leona?” Mateo prompted.

She started to pace around, and work through the problem. The others gave her time to come up with a theory. “One thing I wondered when I first learned about time travel, is whether it explains some of the more wondrous things that humankind has accomplished. Were they responsible for the world’s pyramids? Stonehenge? The moai on Rapa Nui? When I was on Tribulation Island, I spoke with The Historian, and it turns out...no. Humans built those magnificent structures, and they did it with their present-day technology, and that technology was as advanced as it should have been given the constraints of logical progression.

“Still, time travelers do exist, and they do make an impact on the past. They spread future diseases, and save lives, and open people’s eyes. Perhaps they make subtle changes to our species’ development that not even the Historian has noticed, because there are too many variables. If time travel doesn’t exist here, maybe that was enough to slow progress. I mean, Horace Reaver went back in time and made a lot of inevitable technology happen just a few years earlier than in his original timeline. That sort of thing may be happening constantly. Of course, we still need more information.” She looked around. “We’ve yet to see anyone here. That could indeed mean the human race died out centuries ago, and all that’s left is this basement. Or it just means they live on the other side of that hill, and everywhere else on the map, but they haven’t gotten into orbit yet.”

Mateo smiled, and looked over at Declan. “You can’t teleport to China, but you can see over that hill. Why don’t you scout around, and see what else is in the area? It’s not an order, I wanna be clear. I recognize you don’t owe us anything.”

“I want answers too,” Declan said. He removed the teleporter cuff once more from his leg, and placed it on his arm, higher than it normally would be, because of the Cassidy cuff that he was unable to remove. “Well, that’s gonna be annoying.” With a smile of his own, he aimed his special device down West, where the golf course used to be. He appeared on top of the hill, though he was far enough away to be barely visible. Fortunately, Jupiter didn’t disable the feature that let them communicate with each other through the Cassidy cuffs. “Nothing here. I’m gonna keep going. Go ahead and search for shelter, and make camp. I don’t think we should go back down to the basement.”

“Roger that,” J.B. replied.

They watched Declan’s silhouette disappear. He fell out of comms range after an hour of running a circular grid search, and didn’t return until long after nightfall.

“Did you find anything?” Leona asked.

“Nothing. We’re alone for miles and miles.”

“I’m sure Jupiter’s pissed,” Ramses figured.

“Good,” Mateo said.

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Varkas Reflex: Time (Part I)

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Pribadium Delgado, Hokusai Gimura, and Loa Nielsen were standing awkwardly in the hallway. The former hadn’t seen the latter two in however long, and they didn’t know what to say to each other. It was ridiculous, though, because they were all friends. “It was a lovely service,” she finally blurted out. Mateo Matic was dead, and being honored on a very distant planet called Dardius. He was still alive, though, because...time travel. So he was around as well, though far too popular at the moment for them to have any hope of catching up with him.

“Indeed,” Hokusai replied.

“Yep,” Loa agreed.

“So, where have you been?” Hokusai decided to ask.

“Lots of places,” Pribadium answered. “It’s been a whirlwind. Do you know who Arcadia Preston is?”

“We do,” Hokusai answered. “Not well, but we know of her.”

“She’s the one what took me from Varkas Reflex, and transplanted me to a ship called the Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez.”

“That’s Leona’s ship.”

“Yes, I met her at some point. Two versions of her, actually. We jumped through time quite a bit. I went back to Earth in the past. Now I’m here.”

They nodded their heads. It wasn’t much information, but they could discuss the details later, if there was going to be a later.

“So, what year is it for you?” Pribadium asked.

“It’s actually 2263 for us,” Loa said. “We came here across space, but not time.”

“Well, time and space aren’t really all that different.”

“Yes, dear,” Loa said jokingly.

“Do you wanna come with us?” Hokusai asked. “I mean, it’s where you were, which theoretically means that’s where you wanted to be when you stepped onto the colony ship. But if too much has changed since then.”

“Ya know, I’ve spent all this time just trying to get through the next hour that I haven’t thought about what I want to do in the future. Things have finally slowed down, and I don’t really know what to do with myself. I suppose I would like to see how Varkas has changed in the last seventeen years.”

“Quite a bit, actually,” Loa said. “We would love to have you see it.”

“How did you arrive here? Would I be able to latch on?” Pribadium asked.

“Invitations,” Hokusai began. “It’s just like with Mateo and Leona’s wedding. We just have to press this return box right here.” She held up the piece of paper that allowed her to shoot across space at speeds far exceeding the speed of light.

“I should be able to latch onto one of you,” Pribadium said. “That’s what Mateo and Leona did to go to their own wedding.”

“Are we ready then?” Loa asked.

Hokusai held onto Pribadium tightly by the shoulders. Then she initialized her return protocol. They went right back to Hokusai’s lab together.

“Everything looks the same,” Pribadium pointed out.

“Has as much time passed for everyone here as it did for us at the memorial?” Loa asked.

“According to the invitation, this should be a mere second later; just enough to avoid a temporal paradox,” Hokusai explained. “Hey Thistle, what is the current time?”

“Eleven-fifty-seven Earth Central Standard,” a voice responded.

Hokusai went over to inspect her desk. Things looked slightly different than they had when they left. It wasn’t enough to make her think that she had been robbed, but perhaps someone had come in, searching for a pen. Though, if it truly had been only one second, that shouldn’t be possible. “Thistle, what is the standard Earthan year?”

“Two-two-eight-seven,” the computer replied.

“Thistle, using all available resources, including stellar drift data, please confirm that the year is indeed twenty-two-eighty-seven.”

“Working...” It took nearly twenty seconds for her to continue, but this was an illusion. The computer’s response should be immediate. This data was easily accessible, and while it was certainly possible for there to be some kind of error, it was unlikely, especially when it came to a question such as this. Hokusai was simply exercising her right as a flawed human being to deny the truth as it stood before her. Asking for confirmation was nothing more than an attempt at psychoemotional comfort. Artificial intelligence, at its core, felt no such desire, nor did it appreciate this kind of need in others. To make them easier to communicate with, AI programmers coded these entities, however, to at least approximate human emotion, and respond accordingly. Inflections, pauses in speech, and in this case, a delayed response to pretend it was searching more thoroughly for a solution to the problem, were all about making the human requester feel better about the inevitable conclusion. “Confirmed. The year is twenty-two-eighty-seven.”

It’s been twenty-four years,” Loa noted the obvious. “We’ve been gone twenty-four years.”

“Why?” Hokusai wondered out loud. “Why did the invitation return us to the wrong point?”

“It’s me,” Pribadium said. “I’m the variable that the invitation didn’t account for.”

“Is that what happened when Mateo stowed away to witness his own wedding from the audience?”

“No,” Pribadium answered, “it took us back exactly when it should have once it was over.”

“Well, in that case...no valid conclusion.”

“All things being equal, Madam Gimura, I’m the culprit. We can’t deny it. I screwed this up for you.”

Then Loa just started laughing her head off. “We’re all immortal here. We spent nine years on a scouter ship to get here in the first place, while you were spending slightly less on the colony ship. Time ain’t nothin’ but a thang.”

“Well, that was only four years from our perspective,” Pribadium pointed out.

“Exactly,” Hokusai agreed. “And just here, we only lived for a few hours, and now it’s over twenty years later. I don’t see the problem. When you’ve got eternity, this is shorter than an eye blink of time. Let’s assume you’re the thing that caused the delayed return: whatever, I don’t care.”

Loa was still laughing a little bit. “Let’s go outside, and find out what we missed.”

“See?” Pribadium began. “You even say that you missed it.” She couldn’t bring herself to not feel guilty about this, even though she didn’t purposely make them late.

“We’ve also missed everything that’s been happening on Earth, and Gatewood, and Thālith al Naʽāmāt Bida,” Loa argued. “FOMO is a state of mind, but you’re always missing something, because you can’t be in two places at once.”

Hokusai stopped, and tilted her head ten degrees.

“Oh no, I know what this look is,” Loa said.

“Is she thinking?” Pribadium guessed.

“She’s inventing,” Loa clarified.

They waited about three minutes for Hokusai to step back into the real world. She was like a sleepwalker in that it would be dangerous to try to pull her back to reality before she was ready.

“Maybe you can be in two places at once,” Hokusai finally spoke. Though, she remained in her thinking position.

“How would you do that?” her wife asked.

“Extended consciousness,” she answered. “We’re already built for it. Project Stargate is building surrogate substrates for us as we speak. Right now, a mind can only be in one place at once, but that’s a very deliberate limitation. We could change it.”

“There’s a reason that limit is there,” Pribadium contended. “Hive consciousness muddies identity. You can move your mind from substrate to substrate all you want, and as long as you’re using a neurosponging technique, there’s no issue. If you want to spread that out amongst multiple separate substrates, though, who are you really? Are you everyone, or any one of them?”

Hokusai fully snapped out of her mind. “We can debate the ethics all day, as well as the technology necessary for it. That’s not what we’re here for, though. We want to see what Varkas Reflex looks like now.”

They stepped out of the lab, and prepared to climb onto a special hover platform Hokusai and Pribadium had invented together many years ago. It and the lab were both designed with artificial gravity. The mass and density of Varkas Reflex were very high, making it impossible for an average human being to stand on their own two feet. Transhumans were more capable, though it was still uncomfortable. Colonists instead lived in a special O₂-rich water, which they could breathe through their skin. They essentially turned themselves into water-dwelling creatures.

Unlike most people, Hokusai had knowledge of time travel, and parallel dimensions. She used her skills to generate lowered gravity for a given area by placing a different dimension underneath the regular one. A user wasn’t quite in one dimension, or the other, but simultaneously in both. She had built these dimensional generators in only a few key locations, however, including the hover vehicle they were intending to use as transport. It was gone, and seemingly unnecessary. The ground below them was perfectly fine, evidently calibrated for Earth gravity.

Loa was no scientist, but she understood what was happening, and why it was a problem. She was worried for her wife. “How is it like this?”

“I didn’t give anyone else the technology,” Hokusai answered. “Leona has some idea how it works, but the reason she couldn’t learn all of it is the same reason she couldn’t have done this; because she skips so much time. I also gave it to Pribadium, but she’s been gone as well.”

“Maybe you underestimated the people here,” Pribadium offered. “You left the tech unattended for two decades. They probably figured it out.”

“You mean, they stole it,” Loa said.

“It’s fine,” Hokusai said. “I didn’t want anyone to have control over it, because it could endanger natural technological progress. But I’m not Captain Picard, and this isn’t the Enterprise. The fact is that other dimensions exist, and let us do wondrous things. Time travelers have been hoarding these properties of physics since the dawn of man, but things are different now. We’re approaching the 24th century. Perhaps it’s time the vonearthans catch up. Perhaps...it was inevitable.”

“Do you think they placed generators all over the surface of the planet?” Loa asked. “Has there been enough time for that?”

“It depends on how long it took them to break into my second lab,” Hokusai answered. While she genuinely believed what she said about letting them have this technology, it was still going to be hard for her to come to terms with it. It had more to do with the damage already being done anyway, and less to do with real acceptance.

They ventured out to find answers.

< > Entire Story

Microstory 1380: No Remorse (Part 4)

< > Table of Contents

Celebrity Interviewer: Thank you all for sitting down with me. My audience is very interested to understand the reasoning behind this arrangement. I’m very sorry the warden was not able to be with us today.

Producer: Yes, I just spoke with him, and he has some important business to take care of with the government, but he sends his regards.

Ex-Cop: A private prison owner’s job is never done.

Celebrity Interviewer: Quite. Now, let’s get into it. Whose idea was it to make a film about Ex-Cop?

Producer: That would be me.

Celebrity Interviewer: And who decided to cast Ex-Cop to play himself?

Producer: That would be me as well.

Celebrity Interviewer: That wasn’t Casting Director’s responsibility?

Casting Director: I was responsible for securing the casting, but it was an executive decision. I wasn’t even part of the project yet.

Producer: Yes, my vision started in my head, and I didn’t tell anyone about it until I had a really good idea of what I wanted to do.

Celebrity Interviewer: That makes sense. But, Casting Director, you had to convince the warden to go along with it, correct?

Casting Director: It was a team effort, but I was his primary point of contact.

Celebrity Interviewer: Tell me about the film. Where does it begin?

Producer: We start before the beginning, actually. The first five minutes follow Mr. Ex-Cop’s parents as their relationship evolves, from their first date at the zoo, to the day Ex-Cop was born. The next five minutes follow Ex-Cop’s upbringing. He has said that he knew he wanted to be a law enforcement officer because of a presentation an officer did at his middle school in eighth grade, so that’s where we stop moving so quickly through the narrative. We keep it linear, though. We don’t have any flashbacks.

Ex-Cop: That was my idea. Flashbacks, honestly, confuse me.

Celebrity Interviewer: I’m not surprised by that. Walk me through the reasoning behind not casting any other actors for the role. Are you using visual de-aging technology for Ex-Cop? How does that work? Can you really make a full-grown adult look like a child with CGI?

Ex-Cop: I’m not doing any CGI.

Celebrity Interviewer: So, you just haven’t cast the younger parts yet?

Casting Director: I can explain this. Ex-Cop is going to be playing himself throughout the entire film, and no digital editing will be employed to make him look younger. In fact, he’s not even going to be wearing makeup. This is a gritty, true-to-life experience. We want the audience to see him as the real world does, so they better understand what he’s gone through.

Ex-Cop: That was my idea too. I don’t wear no makeup. Do I look like I got titties?

Producer: Ex-Cop, we talked about this.

Ex-Cop: Whatever.

Celebrity Interviewer: No. I want to know what he has to say. I think you’re right that it’s important the audience sees him as he is, rather than some cartoon on the screen. And to that, I’m still confused. The world sees him as he is today, but when he was six years old, they saw a six-year-old. Sure, you could never find a single-digit child who looks exactly like he did when he was that young, but how exactly can you claim this to be an authentic portrayal when you have a fifty-year-old running around in diapers?

Ex-Cop: I’m not fifty!

Celebrity Interviewer: Assistant, please make note of the time. We’re going to want to put a fact-check up on the screen, making sure my audience knows Ex-Cop is indeed fifty years old.

Assistant: Yes, sir.

Ex-Cop: You go to hell, the both of you!

Celebrity Interviewer: Don’t talk to her like that.

Producer: He didn’t really mean it.

Celebrity Interviewer: No. I want him to apologize. He can say whatever he wants about me, but he will leave my assistant out of this, or he’s gonna wish the state had just sent him to some hole in the ground where I can’t find him.

Ex-Cop: Fine. I’m sorry.

Assistant: Thank you.

Producer: Let’s get back on track. I understand where you’re coming from, but Ex-Cop expressed to us that he’s always felt more like an adult, so we wanted to illustrate that by having him play his younger selves as well. It’s a creative choice, and I stand by it.

Casting Director: As do I.

Celebrity Interviewer: And do you stand by casting a convicted murderer in your film at all?

Casting Director: I’m sorry?

Celebrity Interviewer: You should be.

Producer: I would like to clarify this. We’ve obviously heard all of the criticisms. It’s not my job to judge whether Ex-Cop is racist, or if he’s guilty of his crime—

Celebrity Interviewer: He’s guilty. He was found guilty by all six peer arbiters, all four professional arbitrators, and a highly respected adjudicator. He’s considered guilty by the majority of the country’s population, and then some. The film that started this all—the one that shows Ex-Cop pounding his fist into the head of Innocent Victim until he dies—proves that what they said he did, he did.

Ex-Cop: You can’t talk about me like this!

Celebrity Interviewer: On the contrary, sir, I can. You gave up your rights when you abused your power, and murdered an innocent blackman on the streets of Hillside. This film is outrageous! This private prison is outrageous! And you, Ex-Cop are the most outrageous of all. Why, if I had—

Assistant: Celebrity Interviewer? Your boss is on the phone. He’s watching the closed stream.

Ex-Cop: You’re in trouble now, bitch.

Celebrity Interviewer: You fucking piece of shit. I’m gonna put you on the ground. Why you runnin’? Get back here, coward!

Producer: Stop.

Celebrity Interviewer: Get your hands off me. You’re as bad as him, because you validate his sentiments!

Assistant: You better take this call.

Microstory 1379: No Remorse (Part 3)

< > Table of Contents

Ex-Cop: I don’t even wanna be here.

Prison Counselor: I understand that, but if you want to stay in protective custody, this is how its done.

Ex-Cop: I’m a cop, I should be in protective custody no matter what, and since I’m a cop, I know that this is not how it works. I shouldn’t need a psychological assessment to see if I’m fit to not be murdered by some big black man.

Prison Counselor: This isn’t a psychological assessment. This is regular counseling that’s required for you to maintain your right to protective custody. It doesn’t matter what you stay here, as long as you agree to these sessions, the warden will let you stay.

Ex-Cop: So, I can say whatever I want?

Prison Counselor: I understand that it is your instinct to rail against minorities, and all the other people that you believe are responsible for you losing your job. But we won’t get anywhere until you admit that what you did was murder, and wrong. First step towards that, I believe, is admitting that you’re no longer a law enforcement officer.

Ex-Cop: Once a cop, always a cop.

Prison Counselor: I can see how you would feel that way symbolically, metaphorically. But literally, you are not. I’ve read the court transcripts. You expressed no remorse for your actions. Has anything changed in that regard?

Ex-Cop: Yes, absolutely.

Prison Counselor: Oh, good.

Ex-Cop: I regret that I didn’t notice that bitch holding her cellphone camera at me sooner, and that I didn’t rip it out of her hands as soon as I finally did see it.

Prison Counselor: You’re referring to Innocent Victim’s boyfriend, who identifies as a man. Acceptance of non-heterosexuality is another thing we’ll need to work on.

Ex-Cop: Where do you get off telling me what we need to work on? I’m fine. I just need to stay away from all these black people who keep trying to kill me in here.

Prison Counselor: You are protected now. This is a safe space. You can be honest. I want you to be able and willing to change, though. That’s what life is, a constant progression towards an improved state.

Ex-Cop: If I’m not willing to change, you’re gonna kick me back to gen pop?

Prison Counselor: That’s right.

Ex-Cop: Is that even legal?

Prison Counselor: No one behind these gates is guaranteed protection. Do you think you can do this? Do you think you can entertain the possibility that you’re wrong, and that you need to become a better person? Or are you convinced you’re an infallible god?

Ex-Cop: I never said I was a god.

Prison Counselor: ...

Ex-Cop: Yes, I can do that. I suppose it’s possible that I’m just a little bit racist, and that there’s a slight chance I haven’t been my best self.

Prison Counselor: Great. Now, let’s start from the beginning. What do you remember your parents teaching you about race, ethnicity, and skin color when you were a child?