Friday, June 23, 2023

Microstory 1915: The Other Bond

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Fugitive Agent: So, how do you feel, man?
Fugitive Agent: What was in that stuff you had me drink?
Fugitive Agent: It was just bitterwater. Literally water with rhubarb and hops.
Fugitive Agent: Well, I feel...
Fugitive Agent: Free? That’s because of the decision you made to join us. It’s not magic, and there was nothing in the water, or on the knife that cut your palm. This is all you, buddy. Welcome to The Bond.
Fugitive Agent: I caught all the rules, but they never mentioned how to ask for a favor. Do I have to give one to get one, errr...?
Fugitive Agent: Nah, man. We all know your situation, and that it’s time sensitive. You’ll have to reaffirm your promise that no harm will come to the escapees you’re looking for, but our network will find them for ya. Someone in this town has to know something.
Fugitive Agent: I appreciate it. Can I put my clothes back on now?
Fugitive Agent: No one told you to take them off.
Fugitive Agent: What?
Fugitive Agent: *laughing* I’m kidding. Yeah, here you go. I’ll meet you outside, okay?
Fugitive Agent: Thanks.
Freewoman: We don’t have to do that.
Fugitive Agent: Whoa. Who are you?
Freewoman: I’m an ex-con too. We meet in the other basketball court.
Fugitive Agent: Sorry, I didn’t know anyone else would be in this supply room.
Freewoman: It’s okay. You ain’t got nothin’ I’ve never seen before.
Fugitive Agent: So, what were you saying?
Freewoman: The nudity thing. And the blood pact. We don’t do that to form our bond.
Fugitive Agent: Oh, they never said that there was another bond group.
Freewoman: Well, there is. We heard about you. I have to say, by only bonding with them, you’re missing out on about eleven percent of the people who could help you.
Fugitive Agent: Like I said, I didn’t know. I wouldn’t be able to join, though, would I?
Freewoman: *smirking* There’s a way for you to join without joining.
Fugitive Agent: I don’t understand.
Freewoman: You would have to go through another ceremony, but it’s not like the one you just had, or even the one I had for mine.
Fugitive Agent: What does it involve?
Freewoman: It’s like...a sort of...marriage.
Fugitive Agent: Come again?
Freewoman: If you were to get couple bonded with—say, me—I could conscript my girls to look out for your escapees, in addition to the guys you already have on it.
Fugitive Agent: That really does sound like marriage.
Freewoman: You would be free to marry someone in real life, if you wanted. We don’t go get a marriage certificate at the law station. It’s for cross-promotional purposes only.
Fugitive Agent: Can I think about it?
Freewoman: Of course, but I’m not the one working under a deadline, am I?

Thursday, June 22, 2023

Microstory 1914: The Bond

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Parole Counselor: Come on in, Officer. I don’t know how much I can help you, though. All of my people are accounted for. I never worked with any of the men who escaped from jail the other day.
Fugitive Agent: It’s Agent, and I’m not looking for information on your people. I’m hoping that one of them can help me find where the escapees are now.
Parole Counselor: What you’re talking about is a snitch. We don’t...encourage such behavior here. It tends to get the snitch killed.
Fugitive Agent: I understand that, and I want you—and your parolees—to know that I’m not looking for the escapees because I wanna lock them back up. Three of them are nonviolent, and honestly, I feel for the violent one. It’s only the fifth one that I’m interested in. I’m willing to listen to him, whereas other members of law enforcement were not. He may be able to help us with a global existential threat.
Parole Counselor: We don’t call them parolees in this context. They’re freemen.
Fugitive Agent: I’ll remember that. Do you think they would be willing to help? Is there any way I could guarantee that I won’t arrest anyone in this matter?
Parole Counselor: A way to guarantee it? From their perspective?
Fugitive Agent: What is it? Why are you laughing?
Parole Counselor: Well, there’s a way to do it, but you may not like the consequences.
Fugitive Agent: What? Am I gonna have to prove myself by committing a crime with them, or something?
Parole Counselor: No. In fact, one of the rules is that they’re not allowed to ask you to help commit a crime. And that’s not just because you’re a lawman. It’s our rule.
Fugitive Agent: Well, then what does this entail?
Parole Counselor: It involves a ceremony. There will be blood. What it will do is bond you to them for life. The counselor who trained me came up with it, and it’s been proven to work. You basically commit your loyalty to them. You agree to leave your old life behind, and start a new one with the group, and adhere to our ideals. Once you do that, they’ll help you with whatever you need, within reason, but you’ll be obligated to do the same. I can’t promise they’ll go for it. I’m the only bonded member who’s never been arrested before. They’re understandably wary of people like you. There’s a reason we don’t operate out of the law station with the other departments in this ambit.
Fugitive Agent: If you convince them to let me in, I’ll do whatever it takes to stay in, even after this case is over, and I return to the central office. But I do want to make sure they won’t ask me to help them get their records expunged, or any other abuse of my power. I still have to maintain my commitment to the badge.
Parole Counselor: They won’t ask you anything like that. Leaving their old lives behind doesn’t mean they forget them. It’s important that they recognize where they come from, and how much they’ve accomplished since. Besides, they would see it as an abuse of power just as much as you. It’s enough to get them kicked out of the bond.
Fugitive Agent: All right. Tell me what I have to do.
Parole Counselor: You’ll have to wait here while I confer with them. Like I said, they may not even consider letting you in. I cannot compel them. I’m not their leader.

Wednesday, June 21, 2023

Microstory 1913: Special Investigations

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Special Investigator: I appreciate you coming to me, I just couldn’t get away from the office today. It’s a madhouse. Unrelated.
Fugitive Agent: That’s all right, I don’t mind. Is this about my current case?
Special Investigator: It’s about one of the escapees. We don’t care about the others.
Fugitive Agent: Let me guess, it’s this mysterious so-called parole officer that no one knows anything about.
Special Investigator: We are very interested in who he is, and how he got here.
Fugitive Agent: Does the Office of Special Investigations think that he’s some kind of major threat to national security?
Special Investigator: Perhaps, perhaps not. I’m going to show you something that pertains specifically to your case, and then I’m going to show you something that may have nothing to do with it, or it may mean everything.
Fugitive Agent: Okay, go ahead.
Special Investigator: Watch both monitors closely. This camera is showing the lobby of the hotel. This other one is showing the exterior. Wait for it... Wait for it...there.
Fugitive Agent: Hm. That’s weird. Are you sure these are synced up correctly?
Special Investigator: Absolutely certain. Your man walks out of the hotel without ever actually being in the hotel. He appears out of nowhere, and it doesn’t seem to faze him one bit. To him this is normal.
Fugitive Agent: No, there has to be a logical explanation. A glitch, erased footage...
Special Investigator: That what I would guess if I were in your shoes, but then again, I haven’t shown you the other footage yet.
Fugitive Agent: Can I see this one one more time?
Special Investigator: Certainly.
Fugitive Agent: [...] Wow, that looks so real. The door doesn’t open from the inside. It really looks like it’s just two different scenes spliced together.
Special Investigator: It’s not. Look at that newspaper blowing in the wind on the sidewalk. You can see it on both cameras.
Fugitive Agent: You’re right. I don’t understand it.
Special Investigator: Then you definitely won’t understand this.
Fugitive Agent: *peering at the screen* What the hell is that thing?
Special Investigator: We’re still figuring that out.
Fugitive Agent: It looks like a giant...dragonfly, or maybe a cicada.
Special Investigator: It won’t speak, but it clearly understands English. It reacts predictably to verbal threats. It showed up six months ago. We’ve been studying it.
Fugitive Agent: Fascinating, but forgive me, what does it have to do with my guy?
Special Investigator: This...thing showed up on camera too. A meteorologist happened to be doing some kind of weather research nearby at the time of its arrival. It presented very unusual readings, so we’ve been secretly installing sensors all over the country, including near enough where the parole officer showed up.
Fugitive Agent: He set off the sensors, didn’t he? What do you want me to do?
Special Investigator: We want you to do what you were doing. Find him. For us.

Tuesday, June 20, 2023

Microstory 1912: Henhouse, Outhouse, and Doghouse

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Fugitive Agent: Thank you all for coming to this meeting. I promise that we won’t take up too much of your time, but we do have a few questions regarding this recent jailbreak of yours, which is—let’s see—the fourth this year? Whew, that sounds like a lot? Does that sound like a lot to you, Fugitive Agent 2? That sounds like a lot. Let me check the area stats. Yeah, that’s a lot. Okay, so. Who’s to blame here? [...] No takers?
Fugitive Agent 2: I don’t think they heard you.
Fugitive Agent: Didn’t hear me? Is that right, folks? Did you not hear me? Well, if this station hired a bunch of deaf people, maybe we need to run a clean sweep. Do you agr—
Senior Guard: That will not be necessary. We heard you just fine.
Fugitive Agent: It won’t—let’s see—Senior Guard? Are you taking responsibility?
Senior Guard: I didn’t say that.
Fugitive Agent: Well, one of your men was on duty on the night in question, correct?
Senior Guard: He was, but we were understaffed. Street Proctor arrested a fifth detainee, which overbooked our cell in terms of guards.
Fugitive Agent: Proctors can’t make arrests.
Street Proctor: I didn’t arrest anyone. You can check the records. Police Officer 11 is the arresting officer of record.
Police Officer 11: I am? I wasn’t even there. I was off work for the last two days.
Fugitive Agent: Street Proctor, did you falsify records?
Street Proctor: No, I didn’t. Of course, I didn’t. He probably was here. It was probably him who falsified the records. Like you said, I can’t make arrests, and everyone knows that, so even if I tried, the so-called detainee, who I supposably arrested should have refused, but he didn’t even argue against me. I mean, because I didn’t even try, because I can’t arrest people. I don’t even have handcuffs. Look.
Fugitive Agent: Yes, I wanted to ask about the last person who was placed in the jail cell. He claimed to be a parole officer, and even presented a badge? Evidently it was this that he used to escort the other four men out of this building without so much as picking a lock. Senior Parole Officer, care to comment?
Senior Parole Officer: All of my men are accounted for. If this man really was on the job, he was from a different station, and since there aren’t any records of his arrival, I can say nothing more about it.
Fugitive Agent: Thank you, Senior Parole Officer; the only man here whose words I believe to be actually true. Speaking of which, now that we know that it was Street Proctor who tried to arrest this mysterious parole officer, I assume it was you, Senior Proctor, who received him? [...] You may as well be honest; the order of events is pretty obvious here. Lying now isn’t gonna save your job.
Senior Proctor: I received him, yes. I interrogated him for a few minutes, then asked my subordinate to detain him. But I didn’t know that an officer didn’t make the arrest.
Street Proctor: Bullshit! You’re a liar!
Fugitive Agent: Settle down, now. I still have more questions. I wanna know who else knew about it. Senior Police Officer, what was your involvement in this mess?

Monday, June 19, 2023

Microstory 1911: Shift Laws

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Senior Guard: Jail Guard, could you come into my office?
Jail Guard: Yeah, boss?
Senior Guard: I noticed that the male jail cell is empty at the moment.
Jail Guard: Oh, you’re right. It is, isn’t it?
Senior Guard: Why do you think that is?
Jail Guard: Looks like they broke out, sir. Happens about once a year.
Senior Guard: True. Care to hazard a guess as to the number one way detainees and inmates find themselves capable of breaking out of whatever lock up facility they’re in?
Jail Guard: Bad craftsmanship?
Senior Guard: Help from the inside. You were posted at that cell earlier today.
Jail Guard: I suppose I was. I did have to go out for coffee.
Senior Guard: How long were you gone?
Jail Guard: Only about ninety minutes.
Senior Guard: [...]
Jail Guard: I didn’t help them escape. I just didn’t watch them.
Senior Guard: Of course. Were you aware that the law states that at least two guards are required to be posted at a holding site where five or more detainees are being held?
Jail Guard: I think I did know that. Does that mean you erred?
Senior Guard: It does not. My roster is sound. It was a proctor who brought in the fifth detainee, which means it would have been the proctor department’s responsibility to supply your backup. Just for confirmation, did they fulfill this requirement?
Jail Guard: They did not. I was alone.
Senior Guard: And you are allowed to leave for food, beverage, and personal hygiene reasons once every two hours, correct?
Jail Guard: Correct. That is also the law.
Senior Guard: When you left for coffee, and...personal hygiene reasons, had it been two hours since your last break?
Jail Guard: *frowns* No, it had only been about an hour.
Senior Guard: No. No, look at this, see? You logged your break at 17:00 earlier this evening. I have it right here on the records. Those are your initials, aren’t they?
Jail Guard: Impossible, sir. I eat my dinner at exactly 18:00. I’m on a particular diet.
Senior Guard: Yeah, I remember, but something was different about today. You were so hungry, you took a break at 17:00, and then at 19:15, you needed another break, and since you were alone, you had to leave the detainees alone. And that’s not your fault. It’s not my fault either. It’s the proctor department’s fault. Do we understand each other?
Jail Guard: I think so, sir.
Senior Guard: *sighs* I know you have trouble remembering things sometimes, so when the fugitive department questions you regarding this matter, just tell them that you do not recall, and ask them to defer to the records, because you may not know much, but you know that the records are one hundred percent accurate. Okay?
Jail Guard: Okay, I think I can do that.
Senior Guard: Perfect. Now go finish your shift. They won’t come until tomorrow.

Sunday, June 18, 2023

The Advancement of Mateo Matic: April 8, 2400 (The Conclusion)

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Mateo teleported himself to Lebanon, directly into the Constant, which he thought wouldn’t work because of the safeguards, but he entered just fine. He landed in the master sitting room, which was where they always hung out in the version of this place in the Third Rail. It has been completely cleared out. All of the books were gone, as well as the furniture, and the snack bowls. Even the bookshelves have been removed. It looked like a room in a house that the previous owners were trying to sell after they had moved out. Maybe Danica was just trying to do some renovations. He stepped out and walked down to the security room. The door was wide open, and it too had been stripped. He looked farther down the hallway to see the rest of the doors open too, including ones that he had never been allowed to enter before. What the actual hell was going on here?
He kept walking through the complex, searching for any sign of life, but everything was gone. Only the walls remained, held up by the floors, and holding up the ceilings. It was completely bare. What. The. Hell? He called Danica’s name, but no one responded. “Constance?” he questioned nervously, but she didn’t answer either, which was a good thing, because this version of the superintelligence was evil. Maybe she had done something to Danica. They had always been told that his cousin was immortal, but in every story about someone who could not die, there was always a loophole, and if anyone had the smarts to find it, it was a Constance. “Danica?” he called again, but still nothing. Finally he found something. It was the garden, and so far, the only place with anything still in it. This particular area was untouched, looking just as it did before. He stepped in, and walked down the windy path a little. He rounded the bend just in time to see Zeferino Preston and Dalton Hawk disappear. “Danica!” he shouted one last time.
“Matty?” Danica asked. “When did you get here?”
“About fifteen minutes ago,” he answered. “I’ve been looking for you. What did those two assholes want?”
“One wants a purpose,” Danica replied. “The other says he can give it to him.”
“Did Dalton seem like he had...um, become a villain already?”
“No. If that’s happened, I don’t think it’s happened to him yet.” She eyed the space where he was once standing. “Perhaps this is where it begins.”
“I don’t know,” Mateo said. “I think this would be before he sent us to the Third Rail, which he seemed to have done by accident, out of benevolence. “I just don’t know. Anyway, it’s inevitable, and it can’t be undone. We got through it. No one died...permanently.”
“You’re looking at me weird,” she pointed out.
“Did you know that there were other versions of you, in the parallel realities?”
“I suspected. I mean, that’s the point of the Constant, to begin so early on in the inception of the solar system that it can’t be undone without the kind of effort that would wipe out humanity before it could evolve anyway.”
“Did you know that...Constance was evil?”
Danica sighed. “Yeah, which is why I erased her thousands of years ago.”
“Well, it didn’t take, and the other Danicas did not make the same choice anyway. They all came after us, except for Constance!Three. She was pretty helpful.”
“I apologize for any trouble she, or the other Danicas, have caused you.”
“You can’t apologize for them. Four and a half billion years is a long time to become entirely different people.”
She nodded appreciatively.
“Are you shutting down? Is that why this place is empty?
“It’s over,” she explained. “Evidently, it was always going to end like this. The people who contracted me for this job never told me that there would be an endgame, and I didn’t give it much thought. I only had real work for the last few millennia.”
“So you know about the Reconvergence too?”
“No. Maybe I knew it before, but everything’s been taken from me, including my immortality, and what knowledge I possessed about the timelines.”
Mateo frowned. “I’m sorry.”
“Yeah, well, like you said, four and a half billion years. I wasn’t awake that whole time, but who can complain about getting that much time? I accept my fate.”
Mateo shook his head. “Who’s making you do this? You said you deleted Constance? I thought she was your boss.”
Danica looked up to search for the right words. “She was more of a consultant. Management selected her to keep me on track, and give me advice, as well as keep this facility running, but she couldn’t actually tell me what to do. If the other versions of her made you believe that they were in charge, they were lying.”
“So who is your boss?”
I am; the first me. Danica!Prime. That’s what I decided to call her, at least. She’s even older than me, especially now. That’s why she chose me as The Concierge, because she figured she could always trust herself to do it right.”
“Wow. I had no idea.”
“Yeah, and now it’s over. You better go. I have to press the big black button.”
“Wait, I came here to ask you for guidance. But...you don’t even know about the Reconvergence, so maybe...”
“So maybe I can’t help you,” she finished for him. “Sorry that the last time we saw each other was so unsatisfactory.”
“No, you don’t have to—why are you acting like you have to die? Press the button, and I’ll teleport us out of here.”
She shook her head. “I told you, I accept my fate. Go on and get out of here.” She held out Dalton’s Cassano Cane. “Take this with you, would ya?”
“Dalton uses this in the future,” Mateo said without taking it yet. “I don’t know how to get it back to him.”
“I’m sure the time gods will show you the way.”
Mateo frowned again, or still, really, and accepted the burden.
“Now, go on. I started this alone, I’ll end it alone.”
“There but for the grace of God went you...in the other parallels.”
She smiled at this. “I love you, Mateo.”
“I love you, Danica.” He teleported out, and landed in the chapel on the surface. It was funny, after all this time—the gradual phasing out of the world’s religions, including Christianity—the bulldozing of all the tiny little buildings to replace them with megastructure arcologies, that this tiniest building of all should survive this long. This year really was The Edge, wasn’t it?”
He stepped out into the bright sun, and smiled softly. He was sad that his cousin was maybe dying, but she was right, it was certainly less sad than a child, or even a centuries old transhuman. She had lived so much longer than most. It was poetic, really, that she should not see the Reconvergence. “Hey. Who are you?”
A couple was standing by the picnic tables under the little shelter next to the table. “We’re just tourists. We’re sorry to bother you.”
“No. This place is dangerous right now. Have you seen anyone else?”
“What’s the matter?”
“Have you seen anyone else?” Mateo repeated.
One of them pointed. “There are a bunch of people in that field. I think they’re birdwatching. We’re not with them.”
Mateo pointed too. “Get in your car, and go now. Leave all of your belongings, and just go. Now. There could be a bomb.”
They ran for their vehicle while Mateo walked around the chapel. They were right, a ton of people were wandering around a football pitch’s length away from him. He might not have time to teleport them all away, not if what was going to happen when Danica pressed that button was what he thought would happen. The chapel was the secret entrance to the Constance. The rest of it was, of course, completely underground, but not spread out all around them. The elevator was on one side of the building, and the birdwatchers were right over the bulk of it. If they came this way, and managed to cross the road, they might be okay, but they had to come now.
“Bomb!” he yelled as he ran towards them. “There’s a bomb! Get across the road!”
“Huh? What?” They were asking, confused, and not used to living in such danger. Every structure these days came equipped with bomb detection systems, Mateo assumed. The average person in the 25th century was not under constant threat of such explosive risk. People in his time were usually not too worried about it either, unless they lived in a war zone, but that threat was always looming. These people were completely unafraid, and could probably not so much as fathom what he was even trying to tell them. They just stood there watching him as he drew nearer.
“Bomb! Come this way! Now!”
It was too late. It was far too late. The ground beneath them all blinked out of existence, leaving them a kilometer in the air, and starting to plummet to their deaths. Giant pipes were filling the crater up with water, but it wasn’t full yet. He would not have time to teleport more than a few of them out. Some of them may have been androids, or were beaming their consciousnesses to a satellite in orbit. Maybe all of them were, or maybe none of them were. They were all screaming. He had to use the only tool he had with him if they were to survive, which was this magical reality-hopping cane in his hands. He didn’t know how to use it, but if there was ever a moment to learn on the fly, this was it. He pointed towards the smattering of people, and just thought about what he wanted. A beam of light shot out of it, and overcame a good chunk of the people. They disappeared, hopefully to another reality...a safer one. He swept it rightwards, picking up more and more until they were all gone. He looked around, still falling, hoping that there weren’t any stragglers, and he didn’t see any.
Just before he hit the shallow water alone, he teleported himself a few meters away, but upside down. He learned this trick in the Parallel once. His momentum was now carrying him upwards, and slowing him down gradually, instead of all at once in a momentous splat. For a second, he was at an equilibrium, and that was when he took the opportunity to teleport again, this time to the surface next to the newly forming lake. He finally exhaled, and huffed to catch his breath.
The only couple he was able to warn in time was still there on the side of the road. “Our car wouldn’t start. It’s an antique. We were trying to live as the ancients did.”
“It’s okay. This is the edge. The danger is over.”
“What could have done this? Is that filling with water?”
Mateo nodded. “This, my new friends, is Danica Lake.” He was there when it happened in the Third Rail. It was what triggered his mind to erase the memories that could have explained it. It would seem that the creation of Danica Lake was always the plan, and not just something the other Danica came up with.
“What happened to the others? Did they all die? How deep is it?”
Mateo stood up straight and adjusted his clothes. “Did you see the message in the stars last night?”
“Yeah. Everyone did.”
“What did it say?”
DON’T PANIC.”
Mateo nodded. “Exactly. They’re fine.” He winked, and teleported away.
“You made it!” Angela noted.
“Did you make a choice? Did Danica help you?” Marie asked.
“She couldn’t. She’s never heard of this and now, she’s...gone.”
The girls both winced, and didn’t say anything.
“You knew I would come here, though,” Mateo said, looking around at Stonehenge. “You knew I wouldn’t just bail.”
“Of course we did. We know you.”
“But we don’t know what choice you’ve made,” Alyssa said, coming into view from behind one of the stone sarsens. “So what will it be? Which reality are you saving?”
Mateo drove the Dilara Cane into the dirt so it could stand on its own. He did it for effect, and effect alone. “The main sequence; leave it here.”
“Don’t tell me,” Alyssa responded. “Tell it to this.” She reached behind her back, and produced the Omega Gyroscope. She wasn’t holding it in her hand, though. It floated above, active and glowing.
“How do I have that power?” he questioned. “Why would it listen to me?”
“Because you’re the current owner of that.” She pointed at the cane.
Mateo looked down at it. “This? I just got this. It’s a coincidence, and I’m not keeping it.”
“You should know by now, Mateo,” Alyssa began. “There is no such thing as coincidence; not in our world. You don’t have to keep it. You just have to use it in this moment. Kyra and the other Keys are going to try to pull every inhabited world in this universe through a quantum array of portals. All you have to do is close the ones that are opening up in this reality.” She gently nudged the gyroscope towards him. It floated through the air, and settled itself over the Cassano Cane like it was home.
Mateo stared at them for a moment before looking up at Alyssa, and the Walton twins. Then he wrapped his hand around the cane, holding it there. Alyssa nodded at him, so he thrust the powerful objects towards the sky, and closed the portals.

Saturday, June 17, 2023

The Edge: The Eagle Has Landed (Part I)

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Leona closed the door behind her, and let the portal close along with it. She turned and reopened the door on this side to confirm as much. A part of her hoped that her husband and friends would be able to join in on this special occasion, but she was not surprised that they weren’t. There was a reason they called this group The Shortlist. It will presumably be even shorter now that Ramses was dead. Either that or they’ll pull him from earlier in the timeline, which seemed a little unlikely since there was not much the two of them didn’t tell each other prior to his death. He probably would have let it slip at some point. There never had to be eleven members, though. That was just how it worked out. Perhaps they will find someone worthy of replacing his seat, or maybe they won’t. She didn’t know who was organizing this whole thing. No one was really in charge, but Hokusai Gimura often found herself in a pretty strong leadership role.
They were here to discuss the future of the Milky Way Galaxy in the main sequence parallel reality. Most of the public had seen or learned by now that there was something else going on in the universe that they didn’t understand. A message appeared in the night sky that could not have formed using conventional technology. Light just does not move fast enough to join stars together like that in a brand new constellation. Plus, the stars that were used to display the message weren’t even on the same celestial plane, as they never were. There was just no logical explanation for the message. For now, no one had to come up with one yet, but the longer they put it off, the trouble it might cause. Someone has to answer for it, and the energy god who actually wrote the message wasn’t going to do it.
“The Eagle has landed,” Thor Thompson said into his watch as Leona passed.
“Hey. What are you doing here?” Leona asked. He was intelligent, and well-versed in the world of salmon and choosers, but he was not part of the Shortlist.
“I’m just here to watch.”
Pribadium Delgado glided up, and took Leona by the hand. “He’s been saying that to everyone. Everyone is The Eagle.”
“What does he mean that he’s here to watch?”
“Come. We’ll explain.”
As Pribadium was leading her down the corridor, they heard Thor repeat the phrase when Weaver walked in through her own portal, from wherever it was she was.
They turned into a room which might have been the observation deck of a space station. A large array of windows was showing them the star that they were orbiting. “Where are we?” Leona asked.
“Altair. The locals have agreed to host,” Pribadium answered.
Leona kept looking at the beautiful star for a moment before turning her head. “I’m not familiar. Not the star, I’ve heard of Altair. I just don’t know who lives here.”
Pribadium smiled. “The Altares, of course.”
Leona chuckled. “All right.”
“Follow me. This is their diplomacy station, which they call Diplomacht.” She continued through the corridor until they came into an open space. It was a huge expanse with simulated daylight, plantlife, including trees that would be the envy of the tallest redwood, and walking paths. And these paths were being walked on, but not by humans or other humanoid entities. They were animals. They were intelligent animals. Some were wearing clothes, some were carrying on conversations with each other. The majority of them were the great apes, like orangutans and chimps, but there were plenty of canines, felines, and even birds. It was difficult to tell whether the birds were smart too, because they were just flying around and hanging out, but everyone else was definitely of comparable intelligence to humans.
“Uplifted animals. How did I not know about this?”
“You’ve been pretty busy, going to other worlds, other realities. Besides, this is a different timeline than the one you left. It’s close to what you recall, I’m sure, but you can’t trust anything you thought you knew from the past.”
“You seem to know a lot about what I’ve been up to,” Leona noted.
“Your grandfather filled us in.”
“Labhrás is here?” Leona questioned.
“We sent him back to where he belongs,” Pribadium explained. “He still has to father your father, so your father can father you.”
Leona nodded, and continued to watch the animals moving about like a creeper.
A bonobo hopped over to them. “Take a picture! It’ll last longer!”
“I’m terribly sorry,” she said to him.
“I’m kidding,” the bonobo replied with a laugh. “It’s okay to be intrigued. If I saw a cricket pushing a baby carriage, I would probably stare too.” He held out a hand. “Hello, my name is Gresham Oberti, Exalted Ten. I run this station. If there’s anything you need, you can ask me, and I’ll do what I can.”
“Exalted Ten?” Leona asked with a slight grimace, embarrassed by her ignorance.
“There are degrees to which an organism may be uplifted. Level Ten means that I have the tools I would need to elevate myself to superintelligence status, but I have not actually done that. In my opinion, Ten is the best. I don’t wanna know everything, and I don’t understand anyone who does. Anyway, I have to introduce myself to the rest of the Shortlist, but remember what I said, I’m here to help.” He ran off.
“Altair,” Leona repeated. “Exalted ones. Cute.”
“We didn’t name them that, or choose this as their homestar. They chose for themselves, and the migration was authorized by the Earthan government. There are plenty of them who still live there, of course, and on the other worlds. They just wanted a home of their own, as we all do. You’ve been gone a long time, and as I said, this is not the timeline that you remember.”
“Yeah. Our actions changed a lot.”
“Not just yours. There were other teams crossing the parallels, creating new timelines. I’ve done it a few times myself.”
“What does any of this matter?” Leona asked. “The meeting, I mean. You know what’s about to happen, don’t you?”
“The Reconvergence? Yeah, we don’t have to worry about that.”
Leona shook her head. “I’ve spoken to people who know the fate of the universe. The main sequence will be taken into the Sixth Key. If there was ever any hope that the public could be kept in the dark regarding time powers, it has been sent down the drain. It will happen. If nothing else, the Parallel and the Fifth Division will see to that.”
“It’s complicated, but don’t you worry,” Pribadium began. “We’re not going to be in the Sixth Key. We’re staying right here. Now let’s keep going. We’ll be convening tomorrow in Lylla Hall. It’s across Town Square.”
Leona looked back to see Weaver in the middle of a conversation with Thor and Gresham. Everyone on the Shortlist was probably taking the same route. This was all planned and structured, but by whom? They walked across Town Square, and entered the double doors under the huge sign that read Lylla Hall. They first entered the vestibule. Standing there in full military dress was General Bariq Medley from planet Teagarden. He was once in charge of the Quantum Colony game that millions of people played without realizing that it wasn’t a game at all, but they were in control of real star systems light years away, some of which were inhabited by clueless natives.
“Madam Matic,” Medley said. “It’s nice to see you again.”
“Likewise, I hope,” Leona replied. “I did not expect you to be here.” She looked over at Pribadium, who wasn’t looking back. “I did not expect any of these people.”
Pribadium cleared her throat. “Is she free?”
“She’s inside, finalizing the audience roster,” Medley told her.
“Audience?” Leona questioned. “What audience? Pribadium Delgado, who is she, and what audience are we talking about? Will people be watching us?”
The door to the meeting hall opened. A familiar face stepped through. It was Divinia Tiongsong. They met her in the Third Rail, but she didn’t say who exactly she was, or why the global brain scanner logged her as an error who had experienced an unusual amount of time for someone in the rather primitive reality. “It’s okay, General, I’ll take it from here.”
He nodded, not just respectfully, but reverently. She was more powerful than him. “Ma’am.” He walked away with his entourage of officers.
“I could hear you talking from in there,” Divina said to Leona. “Yes, there will be an audience, and no, it was not our idea. Members of the Shortlist made this decision. Why you were not involved is not something that I can answer, but in your absence, they convened a quorum, and requested certain things from us. Firstly, they did not want to hold the meeting on Earth, Teagarden, or other politically charged locations. They chose Altair, and the Altarens obliged, following my facilitation. If you take issue with his, I suggest you speak with the others. As the term goes, the public has been deveiled. It’s my job to keep everyone safe while you decide what that means.”
“Okay.” It seemed wrong and weird, but what could she do? Leona wields the least amount of power and influence amongst the group. Honestly, she’s always felt that her inclusion was more out of pity than anything, so if this is how the others want to do it, then she won’t object unless someone else does first. The question was, who would be in this audience, and would they have any say in the decision-making process?
Weaver and Thor came into the vestibule. The former was just as confused as Leona was. Thor just acted fortunate to be included. Right behind them was Ramses Abdulrashid. He did show up. “Oh hey, Lee-Lee. Shocker I know. I’ll explain how I survived the destruction of Phoenix Station. But first...I found Olimpia.”

Friday, June 16, 2023

Microstory 1910: Detained

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Street Proctor: Here you are, boys, fresh meat! And look, he’s a cop! Have fun!
Detainee 1: Is that true? Were you a cop?
Leonard: I was—I am—a parole officer. It was my job to keep guys like you out of jail after you left. I’m trying to get back to that life.
Detainee 1: I see. *stands up*
Leonard: Look, I’m not here to fight.
Detainee 1: Me neither. My parole officer kept me out for ten years before she was murdered. I’m in here because I found the dirty cop who did her in, and put him in the ground. I just wanna shake your hand.
Detainee 2: Heh. They probably thought that we would kill you for wearing that badge.
Detainee 3: They’re proctors. Proctors are morons. All they do is observe and report.
Leonard: Observe and report? He arrested me when I told him that I was homeless.
Detainee 2: Yeah, he’s technically not allowed to do that.
Detainee 1: Cops are cops. Since when do they care what the law says? Present company excluded, of course.
Leonard: I’ve barely been here an hour, and I already don’t understand this world.
Detainee 2: What’s to understand? Everyone’s corrupt. That’s all you need to know.
Leonard: *whispering to himself* I gotta get outta here.
Detainee 3: I’m in.
Leonard: Huh? I don’t mean out of jail. I can’t break any more laws. I just mean this area. I’m far from home, and I want to get back to my family.
Detainee 1: It’s not illegal to break out of jail.
Leonard: It’s not? These laws really are weird.
Detainee 1: The only catch is if you get caught, you’ll go back to jail to await trial, and they will probably use your attempted escape against you. Though it will not technically be a charge, the judge will rule based on his personal feelings on the matter. Obviously most of them frown upon it, so if we’re doing this, let’s not get caught.
Detainee 3: Oh, but if you physically harm someone in the process, that can be an added charge. The good news is, as you’ve already seen, the police at this particular station are incredibly incompetent...easily embarrassed. We should be able to slip past.
Detainee 2: Yeah, and they won’t want to open an investigation, or initiate a pursuit, because that makes them look bad. They’re liable to wipe us from the system, and hope that no one else finds out.
Detainee 3: Plus his badge.
Detainee 2: Oh yeah, you have that badge. I don’t recognize it, but if you’re clever, they won’t notice. We’ll just wanna wait until a shift change, so no one will recognize you.
Detainee 1: So how about it, paroler? You wanna break out of here?
Detainee 4: I got somethin’ to say.
Detainee 3: Detainee 4, you’re awake.
Detainee 4: I heard every word, and I have one question. What do we do about him?
Jail Guard: I hate proctors too. Anyway, I need some more coffee. Don’t you go breakin’ out while I’m gone, ya hear? It’ll probably take me about an hour.