Microstory 1391: Poison

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Fiore Stern: Good afternoon. I’m looking for books about poisonous plants, particularly those with flowers.

College Librarian: Okay. Well, all the books about plants are in the 580s. Why don’t you follow me into the stacks?

Fiore Stern: Okay, thanks.

College Librarian: I might be able to narrow it down further. What is the assignment asking you to do?

Fiore Stern: It’s not for an assignment. I’m just learning about them on my own.

College Librarian: Oh, all right. Let me see. Yes, 582 is all about flowering plants. I’m not sure there’s a section about toxic plants, though. I would say 581 is your best bet, though. Those books get really specific about plant life topics. Oh, here we go. Here’s one that looks promising. This one might be of use to you as well. I also recommend something like this. It appears to contain a lot of beginner’s information, so you know where to start with your research. Let’s see, this one is about hiking, and what to do if you come across poison ivy, or something.

Fiore Stern: Nah, I don’t really need that. I’m more interested in plants that can be turned into teas, or something.

College Librarian: I thought you needed to know about poisonous plants.

Fiore Stern: Yes.

College Librarian: Mister...

Fiore Stern: Stern.

College Librarian: Mr. Stern, are you looking to do something bad or violent with this knowledge?

Fiore Stern: Of course not, that would be ridiculous. Besides, how could anything I learn in the library be bad?

College Librarian: Actually, lots of information in these books can be used for malicious purposes. Why, even a sports book that teaches you how to swing a bat at a ball could theoretically also teach you to swing it at someone’s head.

Fiore Stern: What are ya gonna do, call the cops, or something?

College Librarian: If you tell me you’re planning to use these books to hurt someone, in any way, then I have to do what I can to help you channel your emotions into something positive. Is there someone who’s angered you? Are you having unwanted feelings?

Fiore Stern: I wouldn’t call any of my feelings unwanted.

College Librarian: Well, the psychology books are all in the 150s, and that’s as far as someone in my profession is going to be able to go for you. If you think you need some real help, might I suggest the mental health floor in the university clinic? I can walk you down there, if you would like.

Fiore Stern: I don’t need any help, I’m fine. You’re blowing this way out of proportion. I just wanted to study hemlock, and all the ways people have died in history. Like, I wanna know how we found out they were poisonous? I mean, nobody had a bunch of science equipment hundreds of years ago, or whenever it was, yet we figured out it should be called poison sumac. Well, how did that happen? Who got hurt figuring that out? Who had to die first?

College Librarian: So, your interest is purely academic?

Fiore Stern: Absolutely.

College Librarian: Okay. In that case, this book here is about botanical history. I’m no expert in the field, so I can’t tell you if it’s going to give you exactly what you’re looking for, but you should be fine if you take this whole stack.

Fiore Stern: I really appreciate it, thanks.

College Librarian: You’re welcome.

The Advancement of Mateo Matic: Tuesday, April 4, 2028

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The first thing they did was let Leona get caught up with her mother, whose last few years of her life were somewhat uneventful. Despite this being a harsh world to live in, there were, at least, no dangerous people around. Having never seen humans before, some of the predatory animals posed serious threat to the camp, but they weren’t impossible to deal with. They did once see a creature that looked more like a dog, and less like a wolf, so that suggested humans evolved at some point, but died out however long ago after that. An archaeologist or anthropologist would probably have a grand ol’ time studying this whole planet. Their first encounter with another person came when FBI Agent Austin Miller found them one evening after spotting the smoke from their fire. Miller was not happy with the fact that they knew his real name was Hello Doctor, but it was once part of Declan’s curriculum. For his training, he was expected to learn as much past and future history as possible. His teacher, Darko didn’t want him to be surprised by the appearance of anyone in his life; friend of foe. It was the only subject he studied that his classmate, Slipstream did not also study. She remained in the dark about time travel until years later.

Evidently, Agent Miller discovered time travel himself in 2026, when one of the Springfield Nine wreaked havoc on Kansas City, for hazy reasons. Paige Turner was able to erase most of the damage he had done, so that few could remember anything had ever happened. Miller happened to be one of these few, though he wasn’t entirely sure why. Either way, it inspired him to investigate the matter in secret, starting with a temporal object he found called The Omega Gyroscope. He discovered this thing could either create or access alternate timelines. He was in the middle of a long-term study of one of these realities when Paige returned with her fathers, and a group of other people who were trying to stop whatever he had planned. Miller was reluctant to explain his motives clearly to Declan and Carol, but whatever they were, they resulted in him becoming trapped in the other timeline, along with the Reaver-Demir gang. Everyone else managed to escape, but Miller had to sacrifice himself to make it happen. When he did, he somehow ended up here, in this empty world.

“Can you get me back?” Miller asked.

A third of the group looked to Holly Blue for the answer, while another third sought Leona’s expert opinion. The last third waited for Ramses to respond. “We sure can,” J.B. said, confusing everyone. He was a great guy and all, but he had been a salmon his whole life, so his educational experience was sadly limited. “What? Jupiter said we could go back with the people we return to the main reality. If we could go back, then anyone else should be able to as well. All we need to know is when and where the transition window is.”

As if commanded by J.B.’s words, their cuffs all beeped simultaneously. It was directing them to the northwest, for a distance of about nine kilometers. Carol Gelen was very fit and young for her age, but she was still seventy-eight years old, and nine kilometers was a lot. It would take them around two hours to get there at regular pace, but if she slowed them down, they might not make it in time. There was no way to know, because the Cassidy cuff didn’t give them a window deadline.

“She’ll be fine,” Declan explained. “I built something for this exact problem.” He led them around back, to a tool shed sort of thing. Inside was a little cart, just large enough for one person to sit in. Straps were attached to the front, suggesting that it could be pulled by a goat, or a large dog. But that wasn’t the case. Declan put the straps over his own shoulders, and rolled it out of the shed to give Carol more space to step in. She did so with no argument, implying that they had already discussed this, and it was the plan all along. Declan grabbed the end of a second set of straps from just inside the cart, and handed them to Mateo. “We’ll go ahead and get going. The rest of you should fill up on fourth meal, and catch up with us.”

Austin Miller pulled a portable torch out of the stockpile, and lit it from one of the ground torches. Then all four of them headed out. They were over halfway through the trek by the time the others caught up with them a couple hours later. They weren’t exactly walking on a paved road, so the wheels still slowed them down, but at least Carol didn’t have to exert all of her energy.

Once they were at their destination, Ramses lifted up his cuff, and looked through the augmented reality. “They’re train tracks. Like. A lot of them.”

“Ah, the railyard,” Declan said. “Makes sense.”

A familiar horn rang out while Mateo was sitting in the cart to have a rest. “Am I the only one who can hear that?” he asked.

“No, we can as well,” Holly Blue confirmed.

“The Transit will probably be coming from another universe,” Mateo said, “rather than just another reality. Why are we here?”

“I don’t know what it is,” Holly Blue admitted. No one else did either. Leona and Ramses had both heard of The Transit from The Stitcher, but neither of them knew anything about it.

Only Mateo seemed to have any real knowledge. “It’s a giant train that recruits people for some multiverse army.”

As proof, the Transit appeared from its portal, and stopped before them. The doorway opened, and none other than Slipstream herself stepped out. “Declan.”

“Bo!” he shouted at medium volume.

“It’s been a long time,” she said. “Longer for me, I bet.”

“What’s going on here?” Holly Blue demanded to know.

“Declan Aberdeen,” Slipstream continued, sort of ignoring her. “You have been conscripted to The Transit Army to fight the Ochivari.”

“Do I have a choice?” Declan asked.

Slipstream hesitated to answer. “We’re the good guys. You may technically refuse, but...I wouldn’t recommend it. We need you.”

“Dec,” Holly Blue said, “no.”

“You let me train to become a superhero,” Declan said to his mother. “This is my chance to finally put my skills to good use.”

“A superhero, and a soldier, are two very different things,” she argued.

“He’ll be using the skills he has,” Slipstream explained to her. “Some people, like me, will just be there for hand-to-hand combat. Other people have powers. Others, like Declan, have tech. He’ll be fighting alongside the greatest warriors the bulkverse has ever seen, across thousands of worlds. We don’t plan to die. This isn’t that kind of war.”

“I don’t want him going to any kind of war,” Holly Blue maintained.

“Mom,” Declan started, “I gotta go. I love you.”

“No.”

“No, you don’t love me too?”

“No, I’m not letting you go.”

Declan took her into a hug, and repeated, “I love you.”

She hugged him back, but could not echo his words, because in this situation, I love you was just a synonym for goodbye, and probably from her perspective, also meant you’re going to die, so I won’t ever see you again. So she couldn’t say that.

And then he went off to war.

When the Transit disappeared through its portal, no one’s memories were erased, and Mateo didn’t understand why. They didn’t have time to question it, though. Just like before with Carol’s arrival, the scenery flickered in and out of existence. They saw a man standing on the tracks, his legs tied to both rails. His eyes were shut tightly, waiting for the train on its way to come clear him from the face of the Earth. It was only meters from colliding with him when the transition completed, and pulled him all the way into The Parallel. Now that he was no longer flickering, Mateo and Leona could see that they knew the man. It was Elder Caverness, also known affectionately as Guard Number One. Along with Kolby Morse, he once detained Mateo in the second main reality, and sent him off to meet his police detective cousin, Danica.

Elder reopened his eyes, but kept his face scrunched up. Once he looked over, and found that he was perfectly safe, he breathed a sigh of relief. “Ah, you saved me! Thanks a bunch!” He tried to step towards them, but couldn’t. “But why am I still tied up?” Now he narrowed his eyes. “What do you want?”

“Someone else saved you,” Mateo explained to him. “He kept you tied up. We can free you, but just give us a little bit.”

Austin Miller stepped over with his torch. “I can take care of those ropes, since we don’t have any real knives, and those knots look impossible.” It took some time, but he managed to burn Elder’s ropes enough to free him.

“Thanks, Geri Thomas,” Elder said.

“Who?” Miller questioned.

“Don’t worry about it.” A traumatized Elder walked some distance from the tracks, and looked around some more. “Where the hell is the highway?”

“You’re in a different reality now,” Leona replied.

“Oh, okay,” Elder said.

J.B. consulted his cuff. “The next transition window is thirteen hours that way.” He pointed. “I guess the exit is sometimes in a different place than the entrance.”

Before they could formulate a plan, the Transit horn sounded again. It reappeared in the exact same way as before. Slipstream didn’t walk out of it this time, though. Neither did Saga or her new partner. It was someone none of them seemed to know, and she didn’t walk out at all. She literally flew over to them, and landed gracefully on the ground. “Hi. My name is Ellen Snider. I’m looking for Elder Caverness.”

“That’s me,” he piped up.

“You wanna go fight some aliens?” she offered.

“Yeah, okay,” he agreed. He took her by the hand, and let her lead him back up towards the train.

“Wait,” Holly Blue stopped them. “Where’s my son?”

“Who’s your son?” Ellen asked.

“Declan Aberdeen. He may be going by Declan Blue.”

“Hmm,” Ellen said. She pulled up a phone, and started swiping through it. “Declan Aberdeed. Yeah, he was conscripted four years ago. They dropped him back home a few months later. You haven’t seen him?”

“No, he must be back in the main timeline, in some other time period.” Holly Blue looked relieved.

“Oh wait,” Ellen said. “This is called salmonverse, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” Holly Blue replied.

“Yeah, he’s not here,” Ellen said apologetically. “Most branes don’t have names, and this particular world is one of the unnamed. “I’m sorry, I’m just a recruiter. I don’t know why they placed him there, but it indicates that they did it on purpose, or that he requested relocation. I wish I could help.”

Holly Blue was seething. “Just go.”

The tried walking away again.

“Wait,” Austin Miller jumped in. “Can I come with?”

Ellen tilted her head. “You’re not on my list.”

“So, what? You need fighters, right? I’m a trained FBI agent.”

“I don’t know what that is,” Ellen said. “But come on. We do indeed have a few volunteers. They have to go through more rigorous testing, though, since their timeline doesn’t exhibit their abilities well.”

And so Hello Doctor went off to war as well, along with Elder Caverness, leaving Holly Blue at a loss. At least her son was still alive. Of course, time travel being what it was, being alive at any point in time wasn’t really relevant to someone who existed at some other point. Things were even less concrete when accounting for other universes, whose timelines didn’t sync up with each other in the slightest. She had to find a way to get to this other world, and she had to be there in the same time period as him. She should have thought to ask for a ride before the Transit left again. There were no more fighters in the group, so it probably wouldn’t show up a third time. She just wasn’t thinking clearly. Or perhaps she was only trying to believe he was exactly where he belonged. Surely innocent people required his services in this other brane.

Mateo, Ramses, and J.B. took turns carting Carol towards the transition window. Everyone else scouted ahead, and did their best to clear a path to make it go more smoothly. There wasn’t much time to blaze a trail, though, so they mostly just picked up sticks, and kicked rocks away. They arrived with plenty of time to have another meal, and send Carol back home. Unfortunately, she would be alone, but they gave her directions to the Salmon Civic Center, where someone there would almost certainly help her get her life back on track. Either way, she would most likely be dead by the time they had any chance of seeing her again. The next jump took them just over nineteen years into the future.

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Varkas Reflex: Thought (Part III)

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Osiris seemed like a genuine person, who legitimately wanted to help people. Hokusai probably needn’t worry about what he was going to try to do with her technology, but that was rarely the problem. Most technological advancements didn’t risk falling into the wrong hands so much as each development inevitably led to further developments. Sure, you have things like the Manhattan Project, which was specifically designed to kill people, and the scientists working on the problem of fission knew exactly that that was the goal. But most of the time, science must, and will, press forward, and the best one can hope for is understanding consequences. At first, dimensional gravity was used to allow people to walk around on this heavy world in designated areas. Then it was used to launch ships into the sky. Now it was being used to help people move around anywhere, with their own personal gravitational field. This all sounded very good and benevolent, but each application could transform, and that could happen in the blink of an eye.

Given enough time and motivation, someone with dimensional gravity could create an execution platform. They could launch a vulnerable living being into the empty, or they could increase gravity, and crush them like a soda can. They could create a handheld weapon that tore a target apart, with each limb being drawn in a different direction. They could design regular-sized missiles that traveled interstellar distances at such mind-boggling speeds—and thus contained ungodly amounts of energy—and destroy a whole planet. Plus, manipulating gravity also means manipulating time, so something like this could be used to imprison people for years, while only seconds passed for those outside the prison. These were just the risks that Hokusai could come up with on the top of her head, and they only involved the artificial gravity aspect of it. Tapping into other temporal or spatial dimensions could come with even worse consequences.

Osiris appeared to sense that her concerns had not gone away, which they never would. Still, he was determined to help alleviate them any way he could. “Come. I want to show you one last thing for the day.” He led them farther down the hallway, until reaching a very ominous door at the end. The sign said, Gravity Weapons Laboratory.

“This. This is exactly what I was worried about. I can’t believe you—!”

“Open the door, Madam Gimura,” Osiris said.

Hokusai could only shake her head in disappointment, so Pribadium decided to open the door herself. On the other side was nothing but a stone wall. “Is it a hologram?” she asked. To answer her own question, she reached up to find a real, physical wall.

“What is this?” Loa questioned, kind of protectively of her wife.

“It’s a symbol,” Osiris began to explain. “This is no trick. It’s not a secret transporter that takes you to the lab. The lab doesn’t exist, and it never will. We built this door to remind us that nothing we need is on the other side of it, and it never needs to become a room. As long as we’re in charge of this technology, it won’t be abused, and we will remain in charge as long as we’re alive, and if we do die, it dies with us. We’ve been very careful to quarantine the information. Only a few key people understand how it works.” He reached into his pocket, and pulled out a small spherical cube box with a single button. It almost resembled a detonator. He handed it to Hokusai.

“Conceptual understanding of dimensional gravity was copied and sequestered on eight neural implants. Every time we want to do something with the knowledge, those in the know have to access the data using the implant. Practical application runs directly from this chip, and into our hands. Incoming data runs directly back to the implant, and we no longer share information. I, for instance, don’t actually know how gravity clothes work. Nor does anyone else, except for Dr. Petrić.”

“What is this?” Hokusai asked, indicating the sphube.

“The implants are airgapped, and they come with a single vulnerability,” Osiris went on. “A radio signal sourced from this box will disable the implants almost instantaneously. Now you’re the one in control of it. If you decide to erase everyone’s access, that’s what will happen.”

Hokusai looked down at her doomsday device. “Will it hurt?”

“I don’t think so,” Osiris answered. “Even if it does, the pain will be minimal, and temporary.”

She now half-frowned at the device. “Okay.” And with that, she pressed the button. A squeal escaped from it, and made its way through the air beyond them.

Osiris pressed his fingers against the top right side of his head. It didn’t look extremely painful, but more like he had accidentally bumped it against the edge of the coffee table after retrieving his contacts from underneath. Tiny massive weights hooked themselves to his eyelids, and he only barely fought against them. He quickly succumbed to the fatigue, and collapsed to the floor.

“Was that supposed to happen?” Loa asked.

“It’s not what he said.” Pribadium knelt down, and checked his pulse. “He’s still alive, just sleeping.”

“I don’t feel bad,” Hokusai said. “He gave me the button.”

“No one’s blaming you,” Loa assured her.

Pribadium walked a few meters down the hallway to the emergency box. There were two buttons. One was for urgent need, and the other simply connected with dispatch. She pressed the latter.

“Can I help you?”

“We need assistance transporting an unconscious man to the nearest medical facility.”

“A carrier is being sent to your location. It has been programmed to transport him to where the others are being taken. Please follow behind for routine questioning.”

A couple minutes later, a hover gurney appeared, and wedged itself under Osiris’ right side. Hokusai and Pribadium worked to drag him onto it, so it could take him to the infirmary. An investigator was waiting for them. Five unconscious people were already there. The other two were hopefully on their way, so they too could be treated. The investigator was taking someone else’s statement, and adding notes to a computer system that had been grafted onto the skin on his forearm.

“This is what did it.” Hokusai handed him the detonator sphube.

“What is it?” he asked her.

Hokusai felt no need to hide the truth. “You should find neural chips in each of their brains. These chips contained very sensitive information. The box was engineered as a failsafe, to prevent this information from leaking.”

The investigator nodded. “The gravity data. Yes, I know of it. Why was it activated?”

“He placed me in control of it, and I decided to use it.”

“Forgive me,” he said, “but we’ll have to wait until we revive them to determine whether you’re telling the truth.”

“Of course.”

“I’m sure they are.” The scientist who was observing the gravity children before stepped into the room. The seventh hover gurney followed her through, and took its place next to the others.

“How are you awake?” Hokusai asked, almost accusingly.

“That’s what we need to discuss,” the scientist replied. She faced the investigator. “You may go now. I’m invoking scientific immunity for everyone involved.”

The investigator switched off his arm interface. “Very well.”

“I’ll take that,” the scientist said before he could leave. Then she snatched the box out of his hand.

A robot surgeon removed itself from the wall, and began to perform brain surgery on the patients, starting with Osiris.

“My name is Katica Petrić. I was responsible for human gravitational adaptation, and there’s a secret I never told anyone; not even Osiris.”

Hokusai figured she understood. “You’re immune to the button.”

“Not exactly. I mean, no more or less than anyone else who didn’t have a gravity chip in their brain. Eleven years ago, my colleague was experimenting with dimensional energy. He was taking his job beyond his mandate, and because of it, something went wrong. I had to go down and release the energy before it blew another crater into the planet. Obviously I survived, but the incident had a side effect. The chip—for a reason I don’t know, because I’m not a neurologist—released all of its data into my mind, and then it melted. I was under the knife for hours while a surgical robot cleaned the chip out of my gray matter. It could do nothing for my memory, however. That button won’t work on me, because I possess knowledge of dimensional gravity that can’t be erased without seriously damaging my mind. I’m more like you now.”

Hokusai nodded. “No technology is foolproof.”

“Are you going to kill me?” Katica asked.

“Of course not.” Loa was more insulted than her wife. “We used the button as it was intended, for people who we presume consented to the eventuality. We don’t kill, and if your team hadn’t thought of the chips in the first place, then we just would have trusted that you wouldn’t do anything wrong with the knowledge.”

“You obviously didn’t want anyone using this knowledge anymore, though,” Katica began, “so I agree to retire.”

Pribadium had been searching her own memory archives since the first time she heard the name. “You’re a Petrić, as in the Kansas City Petrićs?”

“Yes,” Katica confirmed. “Third generation.”

“Thor told me about you,” Pribadium said. “I mean, he told us about your family, and the other three Croatian families. You’re kind of the unsung heroes of Kansas-Missouri history.”

She laughed. “I dunno, they sing songs about the Matics, and Bozhena.”

“But no one else,” Pribadium argued lightly. “That’s not my point, though. From what I gather, your family, in particular, has always been fully aware of salmon and choosers.”

Katica knew she had been found out. “Every Petrić is born without the ability to move backwards in time, but we’ve all been protectors in our own human ways. I’ve been deeply invested in what happens to salmon since we found out what my adoptive brother and sister were.”

“Who were your brother and sister?” Hokusai asked.

“Mario and Daria,” Katica answered. “The Kingmaker, and The Savior of Earth from 1981 to 2034.”

“You don’t just protect salmon,” Pribadium pointed out. “You’ve been protecting the vonearthans from them. You got yourself onto this team to prevent it from growing out of control.”

Katica turned to watch the surgeon continue removing the neural implants from her colleagues. “I do what I have to.”

“Your story was a lie,” Hokusai accused. “There was no energy generation accident. You removed the chip, and kept the knowledge for yourself.”

“Oh, no, there was a definite energy crisis, and I did have to stop it,” Katica contended. “I also just happened to be the person who started it. If I didn’t do something to prevent them from learning too much, Beaver Haven Pen would have imprisoned them all.” She dragged her knuckles against her upper teeth, presumably as a nervous tick. “I modified the killswitch for the same reason.”

“Are you telling me this is a real killswitch?” Hokusai was horrified.

“No, sorry, that’s not what I meant. It’s just...”

“What?” Loa prodded.

“The chips didn’t work. No one else knew, but there was no way of sequestering the information. The longer the data was in their heads, and the more they used this data to invent things, the more their brains absorbed. Mine did it faster, because I already had some preexisting knowledge, but it would have happened to them eventually, and I can’t be sure they would have all been as noble as Osiris was about it.”

“What did you do?” Hokusai pressed.

“I didn’t just modify the button,” Katica started to say. “I had to alter the chips themselves. I turned them into gateways to the brains. When you pushed that button, it did exactly as you wanted, but because the chips were no longer the only issues, the memory wipe had to be more...comprehensive.”

Just then after a few minutes of recovery, Osiris started to reawaken.

Ever the mothering type, Loa glided over, and placed her hand on his shoulder. “Are you feeling okay?”

“I think so,” he replied. “I do have two questions, though. Who are you? And who am I?”

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Microstory 1390: Growth

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Fiore Stern: Hello? Mr. Botany Professor?

Botany Professor: Yes, that’s me. Office hours begin in a half hour, but I think I can make an exception. Are you struggling with the cambium assignment? I can give you an extra day, if you need it.

Fiore Stern: No, sir. I’m actually not a student yet. I was hoping to interview you, so you can help me get accepted into the program.

Botany Professor: Well, Botany is part of a liberal arts and sciences degree. All you have to do is get into the school, and you can choose Botany as your major—if you’re really sure this is what you want to study, that is.

Fiore Stern: You don’t think you could give me an edge? Maybe write me a letter of recommendation?

Botany Professor: Not really. This is Hillside University. They let pretty much anyone in who’s graduated from high school. The failout rate is lower with that method than you might think, because our professors are really invested in student success. Once you’re accepted, and start classes, you can join the program, and I can become your advisor. But I doubt you’ll need help being accepted.

Fiore Stern: Well, the truth is, I’m a...I’m a felon. I got out of prison a few months ago, and I’m trying to get my life on track.

Botany Professor: I see.

Fiore Stern: I don’t even know if the college will accept me with all that.

Botany Professor: I believe this institution does have a way of doing that. You have to acknowledge it on your application, but then they’ll have you meet with some special advisor. That has nothing to do with me, though, so I’m not completely clear how it works.

Fiore Stern: Can I still ask you a few questions?

Botany Professor: Yeah, that should be fine. Students probably will start coming in fifteen minutes from now, though.

Fiore Stern: Okay. So. How would you define botany?

Botany Professor: Botany is the study of plants, and pretty much everything that goes with that. It’s about how they convert energy, and grow, and support the environment.

Fiore Stern: What is the difference between a plant, and a flower?

Botany Professor: Well, a flower is just one part of a plant. Not all plants have flowers, because they have different ways of reproducing and spreading, other than sexually.

Fiore Stern: I have heard that. Plants have sex?

Botany Professor: Flowering plants reproduce sexually, yes. The male will transfer its gametes to the female. We call that pollination. It’s not quite the same as the way animals do it, though.

Fiore Stern: Interesting. Do you teach plant toxicity? Will you teach your students to tell the difference between a poisonous plant, and one that’s safe to eat?

Botany Professor: That sort of specificity isn’t what we do in the undergraduate department. Poisonous plants do not all share a single trait you would be able to use to determine if it fits into the category. You just kind of have to know what’s good, and what to stay away from. As far as edibility goes, there’s something called the universal edibility test. It involves a long process of slowly interacting with the fruits, roots, or leaves, to find out whether it’s safe to eat. It takes a really long time, and we don’t teach that here, because we don’t expect our students to find themselves in a survival situation where such knowledge means life or death. It’s a liability issue too. I’m not even allowed to tell you how to learn about the test.

Fiore Stern: Well, let’s say someone does die, because they ate the wrong thing. If a decomposing body helps fertilize the soil, in the circle of life, will plants and flowers grow out of the dead body?

Botany Professor: Um. Well, no. A dead body is not an ideal environment for growth. Sure, a lot of nitrogen will be released into the soil, which may support any life growing around it, but the body itself doesn’t just isn’t fit for that. Why?

Fiore Stern: No reason. Thanks for talking to me. It’s been really helpful.

Botany Professor: Yeah...okay.

Microstory 1389: Flowers

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Nature Surveyor: Good afternoon, sir! I was hoping you could answer a few questions about nature, and the environment.

Fiore Stern: Are you trying to get me to save the whales, or something?

Nature Surveyor: No, agenda here, sir. We just wanna know how you feel about the arboretum, and whether you think there’s anything we should change.

Fiore Stern: Well, I think you could do with a few more flowers.

Nature Surveyor: Okay, so we were considering expanding to become partly a botanical garden as well. Are there any examples you know? Like, is there a botanical garden you’re particularly fond of?

Fiore Stern: I don’t understand why you can’t just plant more flowers. You don’t have to change the name.

Nature Surveyor: Well, we do have some flowers, and there’s nothing wrong with that, but an arboretum will focus more on the trees. It’s less open, and you can kind of get lost in it. With a garden, you’ll be able to see a lot more from any one vantage point. So there is a difference, but I’m not rejecting your idea. 

Fiore Stern: Okay.

Nature Surveyor: We were also considering building a second arboretum on the other side of town, but a land developer is also lobbying for that acreage. Would you rather have something like this—or, I suppose, something with more flowers—or a high-tech intentional community that doesn’t allow cars?

Fiore Stern: It doesn’t allow cars? How the hell do people get around?

Nature Surveyor: The developer is hoping to build a robust public transport system, and keep the buildings close to each other, and more vertical, so they take up less land.

Fiore Stern: Weird. So, I guess you do have an agenda.

Nature Surveyor: Both projects are designed to enrich the community, and support the environment. We’re not fighting against them so much as both sides are trying to figure out which development the people would prefer.

Fiore Stern: Well, like I said, I want more flowers.

Nature Surveyor: Yes, I understand that. I’ll write that again over here, to reiterate that you would want less of an arboretum, and more of a botanical garden.

Fiore Stern: Okay, good.

Nature Surveyor: So, this question isn’t on my list, but why is it you like flowers so much? Do you have fond memories of planting with your mother, or something?

Fiore Stern: Not really. When I was a kid, our neighbor planted toxic flowers, and then covered them with this meat paste so our dog wouldn’t be able to resist eating them. It was retaliation for him eating all her good plants.

Nature Surveyor: Oh, dear. Was the dog okay?

Fiore Stern: Nope. I’m the one who found the body. It was the most interesting thing I had ever seen. Of course, I was only a few years old at the time, so pretty much anything fascinated me. I started learning about flowers after that day, though, so I guess it was particularly important.

Nature Surveyor: Oh, my. You wanted to be able to make sure something like that never happened again?

Fiore Stern: No, why would I do that? I don’t eat flowers.

Nature Surveyor: Right, but...okay. Well, that’s all I have for you, so I better get going.

Fiore Stern: I’ve learned a lot since then.

Nature Surveyor: I’m sure you have. I need to go find more people to interview.

Fiore Stern: If you’re hiring, I could use a job. I know a lot about plants, which ones are poisonous, and which ones are fine. The reason I’m in the area is because I’m hoping to go to college here next year. I know I look old, but I was held back one year, and then I took a gap year, and then I was arrested...

Nature Surveyor: Oh, that’s interesting. You can ask for an application at the front office. I gotta go. Bye.

Fiore Stern: (Bitch.)

Microstory 1388: Bullies

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School Counselor: Middle Schooler 1, do you have any idea why you two were brought in to see me today?

Middle Schooler 1: Because he’s bullying me.

School Counselor: No, because you’re bullying him.

Middle Schooler 1: He started it!

Middle Schooler 2: No, I didn’t!

School Counselor: What did Middle Schooler 2 do to you, Middle Schooler 1?

Middle Schooler 1: He stabbed me with a candy cane.

School Counselor: He what?

Middle Schooler 2: Oh, it wasn’t that big of a deal.

Middle Schooler 1: He sucked on it until one end was sharp, and then he stabbed me in the arm.

School Counselor: Is this true, Middle Schooler 2?

Middle Schooler 2: Wull...I guess.

School Counselor: Middle Schooler 1, why didn’t you report him to the principal?

Middle Schooler 1: Because I’m not a whiny little baby like him!

School Counselor: Now, you know we don’t call people names at this institution.

Middle Schooler 1: Whatever.

School Counselor: Did he break the skin? Do you need to go to the nurse?

Middle Schooler 1: No, I’m fine. But that doesn’t mean it’s okay.

School Counselor: Of course it’s not. Middle Schooler 2? You know what you have to do.

Middle Schooler 2: I’m sorry, Middle Schooler 1. Ugh.

School Counselor: That didn’t sound like a very sincere apology.

Middle Schooler 2: Well, he hasn’t apologized to me either!

School Counselor: That’s true. Why don’t you two apologize to each other at the exact same time. Okay? One...two...three.

Middle Schooler 1 and Middle Schooler 2: I’m sorry.

School Counselor: That was very good. Now. Let’s talk about why you two are so upset with each other.

Middle Schooler 2: He cheated off me on our homework. I know I shouldn’t have stabbed him, but it was annoying.

Middle Schooler 1: I wasn’t cheating. We were doing homework together.

Middle Schooler 2: Yes, but you weren’t supposed to just copy what I wrote. You were supposed to come up with the answers yourself.

Middle Schooler 1: No, we were working together.

Middle Schooler 2: You said you wanted to work together, but then you just had me do it myself, and copy it later. I didn’t even realize I did all the work until it was all finished. You tricked me.

Middle Schooler 1: I didn’t trick you. You’re smarter, so you finished it faster.

Middle Schooler 2: Don’t try to say nice things to me to get out of being in trouble. He’s still in trouble, right?

School Counselor: Neither of you is in trouble. You’re here to work this out, and I think you two are doing a pretty good job on your own, so I’m going to sit here with a game of sudoku, and let you keep going. I don’t want you to stop talking until you’re friends again, okay?

Middle Schooler 1 and Middle Schooler 2: Okay.

Microstory 1387: The Medium Psych Zone

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Law Enforcement Officer: Hello, can I help you?

Supposed Psychic: Actually, it is I who can help you.

Law Enforcement Officer: Do you have a crime to report?

Supposed Psychic: Not exactly, but if you provide me with a little information, I’m sure I can come up with something.

Law Enforcement Officer: I’m sorry?

Supposed Psychic: Oh, forgive me. My name is Supposed Psychic, and I am a psychic.

Law Enforcement Officer: You’re a psychic?

Supposed Psychic: That’s right. Now, I’m sure you don’t believe in people like me—

Law Enforcement Officer: No, it’s not that. I believe there is more to this world than science can explain, but you’re going to have to prove to me that you’re someone who can tap into these truths. I can’t just take your word for it, and hand you off to the detectives. They would laugh me out of the station. So you’re going to have to prove it somehow.

Supposed Psychic: I can most certainly do that.

Law Enforcement Officer: Go ahead.

Supposed Psychic: I can’t just do it on command. I would need to shadow you for some time, and pick up on energies. Visions don’t come to me automagically. Something I see or hear has to trigger it.

Law Enforcement Officer: You want me to show you confidential police files?

Supposed Psychic: Only if you want to solve them.

Law Enforcement Officer: Okay. You can sit in here for a few minutes. I have to find the right file; one that can do no harm in your hands.

Supposed Psychic: Okay.

Law Enforcement Officer: [...] All right. Here we go. This should be fairly harmless. Here we have a picture of a tow truck driver who has been stealing cars all over the suburbs. His truck doesn’t have any markings, and this is the best photo of him, so we don’t know much. If you can tell us who he is and/or where to find him, I’ll consider telling my superiors about your abilities.

Supposed Psychic: Hmm.

Law Enforcement Officer: Do you need—

Supposed Psychic: Shh.

Law Enforcement Officer: Okay.

Supposed Psychic: [...] This is a fake. The man’s name is Tow Truck Driver Jr. Your car broke down four days ago, and he’s the guy who showed up when you called for help. You were charged seventeen dollars on a bill you believe the roadside assistance company you used should have covered in total. You were pleasantly surprised that your engine needed more work anyway, and it could have been much worse if you hadn’t needed service that day.

Law Enforcement Officer: Anything else?

Supposed Psychic: No, that’s about it. Do I have the job?

Law Enforcement Officer: You absolutely do not.

Supposed Psychic: What are you talking about? I gave you a good reading. Just because it wasn’t a case, doesn’t mean I didn’t prove myself.

Law Enforcement Officer: I posted all that information on social media. I don’t remember what the driver’s name was, so who knows where you’re getting that? I saw you standing in the lobby, pretending to be looking at the public bulletin board, but really you were just waiting for me to walk by, because I was your mark all along. I don’t know what you’re really after, but you’re not getting a look at our cases.

Microstory 1386: Marriage Counseling

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Marriage Counselor: Welcome, you both, to marriage counseling. Before we begin, it’s important that you understand that this is a safe space. There will be no judgments here; not from me, and not from either of you. This is not just a guideline, but a rule, and I will be enforcing it strictly.

Husband: I understand, and agree to your terms.

Wife: As do I.

Marriage Counselor: So, what seems to be the problem?

Wife: I cheated on him, and he doesn’t care.

Marriage Counselor: Is that true, Mr. Husband?

Husband: I suppose it is, yes. I would love to say that I simply didn’t react the way she would have wanted, but I see where she’s coming from, and I honestly can’t explain it.

Marriage Counselor: Walk me through it. What happened, and how did Husband react? Mrs. Wife, you go first.

Wife: I’ve been feeling a little neglected, and spending a lot of time on my own. I didn’t go out seeking a second partner, but I often found myself at the rec center, even when I didn’t have a fitness class to get to. I met this woman there who’s kind of going through the same thing with her girlfriend. At first, we were just talking, but then things escalated. It just so happened that Husband walked in on us during the one time it went too far.

Marriage Counselor: Let’s switch perspectives before you proceed. What were you doing that led up to this, Mr. Husband?

Husband: I’ve been pretty busy at work, but that’s not the whole story. I could get it all done on time, but I’ve slowly lost the motivation to do so. The work is overwhelming, and it’s also total nonsense. I used to get really frustrated about it, but now I’m just indifferent. It’s not like the work slows down just because I don’t do it with so much haste, so it builds up even more, and I end up having to stay late just to catch up. One day, I finally just said screw it, and left for home at the time I’m supposed to. Like she said, I walked in on her.

Marriage Counselor: How did you react?

Husband: I barely did at all. My first instinct was that I was pissed; not that I was actually anger, but that I ought to be. As I stood there, looking at them in our marital bed, though, I realized it didn’t bother me. I felt like, if that’s what she wants, she should have it, because I obviously can’t provide for her.

Marriage Counselor: Did it excite you, or just not bother you?

Husband: I felt nothing. I feel nothing. I’m completely numb. I don’t feel joy or jealousy anymore, or anything else, for that matter. I don’t know why, and I don’t want to be like this. I wish I had gotten angry at her, because then we could have worked through it. But she’s just sitting here in this marriage, and neither of us is happy, but she’s the only one who’s trying anymore. I think I might have become a sociopath.

Wife: I don’t think that.

Marriage Counselor: Me neither. You would not have become a sociopath, Mr. Husband. It’s something you’re born with, or possibly develop at a very early age. And even if you hadn’t realized what you were until now, just from my first impression of you, I doubt it would be a good diagnosis. You obviously still care about her, if only in a lesser sense than you used to. Sociopaths aren’t capable of even that. You seem to be having trouble manifesting emotions, but I don’t think they’re not there at all. Are you taking any medication?

Wife: He’s not taking anything.

Marriage Counselor: Well, he’s mimicking some of the symptoms of certain antidepressants, so if it’s not that, then there’s some other imbalance in the brain. Mr. Husband, you mentioned your work. I believe that may be at the heart of what’s causing all this. Let’s dive deeper into that.

Husband: Okay.